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fizzydrink698 · 2 years

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passenger | jennie

kinktober day 3: car sex

pairing: kim jennie x female reader

word-count: 5.2k

genre: romance, fluffy smut

warnings: swearing, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, the inherent awkward manoeuvring of car sex, some real fuzzy emotions

summary:

Settling herself down into the space next to you, she draped the blanket over the two of you, shifting closer ever so slightly when it proved not quite big enough to cover you both easily.

…You know, if you’d had to guess where this night would take you, snuggling up with Kim Jennie under a blanket wouldn’t exactly be your first thought.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Those were Jennie’s first words when she got into your car, her expression cold as she tried to manoeuvre her dress skirts inside so that she could close the car door without trapping them.

Amazingly, despite the rain beginning to pour down outside, she looked incredibly put-together. You’d only really met her a few times – maybe enough to count on two hands – but she always seemed so chic and well-dressed. Designer clothes, perfect hair, and just that…like, aura of elegance.

You didn’t know Jennie particularly well, but when you got the call just after midnight from Rosé that Jennie needed a lift home and the situation was, quote, “really not good”, you didn’t hesitate to make the hour-long journey to her.

You had expected her to be at some kind of house party, or some kind of typical date location – like a restaurant, or something. Not a black-tie gala hosted at a hotel so grand and towering that it made your eyes water just to look at it.

Still, you knew Jennie ran in slightly different circles from you and Rosé. Maybe this was a typical Friday night for her.

You didn’t hesitate to start driving, pulling out of the hotel courtyard with as much speed as you could get away with – but you couldn’t deny the vague flicker of unease in your gut.

“Bad night?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the road.

Jennie didn’t reply.

You continued, trying to keep your voice light. “Like, ‘the food was gross and my foot got stepped on’ bad, or…you know, ‘police report’ bad?”

Jennie sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “Just…people being assholes. No laws broken, I just…didn’t want to be there anymore.”

Slightly reassured, you let the subject drop and continued to drive on in silence.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jennie rummage through her clutch purse, draw out her phone – and promptly sigh. “Do you have a phone charger port in here?”

Phone charger port? Your car still had a tape deck. Phone charger ports were a little beyond your budget.

“No, sorry,” you said, glancing over at her. “Do you need one?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you realised how dumb they were – a realisation only compounded by Jennie’s slow blink at you as she held her dead phone.

“…That was a stupid question,” you mumbled, turning back to the road.

Jennie had the grace not to respond verbally, but her facial expression was enough.

You made the resolution there and then that, for your own pride, it was probably best to keep your mouth shut in front of the pretty girl for the rest of the journey.

That resolution lasted all of twenty-five minutes, ending dramatically when you found yourself stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere and your back wheels stuck over half a foot deep in mud.

You stood there, outside, staring at the wheels in disbelief as rain just bucketed down from the heavens and drenched you. You barely felt it, a little numb with shock and the pervasive thought of just…what the fuck?

You’d tried everything, but there was no way you were getting out of this without a tow.

Reluctantly, you looked back towards the front of the car – where you could just about see the silhouette of Jennie in the passenger seat, her body turned and leaning over the seat to look back at you.

Shit. This was not your night.

Well, to be fair, it was definitely not her night either.

Putting on a brave face, you squared your shoulders and headed back to the driver’s side, pulling open the car door and wincing slightly as your soaked clothes made contact with the fabric seat.

“Uh, so the car is like stuck in that mud,” you explained, trying your best to keep your voice light. You grabbed your phone from where it had been resting in your cupholder, giving you something to look at that wasn’t Jennie’s face. “We’re going to need a tow truck, I think, so let me just…”

With such a – and you say this lovingly – heap of junk for a car, you had the good sense to save the number of a roadside assistance company in your contacts.

That good sense was wasted, however, when you tried to dial the number and were immediately met with a ‘call failed’ message.

No service.

Of course.

“OK,” you said, lifting your phone up as high as it could go and trying to call again, just in case – but to no avail. “There’s no signal here. I can try walking around when the rain stops to find some, and–”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Jennie pointed out. “There’s not going to be signal for, like, miles around. And…”

She trailed off, attention turning towards the window. Without your car’s headlights, you knew it would be completely pitch-black outside. You briefly imagined trying to stumble around in the middle of the night, the ground still slick with rainwater and mud, and your stomach immediately knotted with dread.

Jennie sighed. “Wait until morning, at least.”

Morning?

Morning was still several hours away, which was a very long time to be stuck in a car with someone you barely knew.

To make matters worse, you were starting to shiver. Your wet clothes were clinging to your skin, growing colder and colder with every passing minute. There was a spare change of workout clothes in the gym bag on your backseat, but there was a very obvious problem with changing clothes right now.

“You look freezing,” Jennie noted, eyebrows raised as you tried not to visibly shudder from the cold in front of her. “Is there, like, anything in this car that you can use to dry off?”

“I mean, I’ve got…I’ve got some other clothes,” you admitted, jabbing a thumb towards the bag behind you.

“Maybe you should put those on, before you get pneumonia.”

“I mean, I can, but are you OK with…I mean, I should probably make sure that you’re–”

Jennie rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Believe it or not, I’m capable of turning around while you’re getting changed.”

You wanted so badly to defend your reluctance, to press your argument further, but you managed to bite your tongue. You awkwardly clambered over the centre console and through the gap between the front seats towards the back, thankfully managing to avoid contact with Jennie as you did so.

With one last glance towards Jennie, just to make sure she was fine with this and facing the other way, you began to peel off your wet t-shirt.

Aware that undressing in complete silence – especially when that undressing involved a long, protracted struggle with wet clothing – would be horrifically awkward, you cleared your throat and tried to make conversation. “So, what’s up with the big fancy party in the middle of nowhere?”

“It was this fundraiser thing. Work-related,” Jennie explained. “One of our biggest donors owns that hotel, and they offered to host. What about you?”

You paused, one arm out of your shirt, confused. “What about me?”

“What were you doing around here, if you were close enough to give me a ride back to the city?”

“Uh…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say. “I wasn’t?”

“What? You were at home?” Jennie asked, her tone incredulous.

“Yeah?”

She paused, seemingly at a loss for words. “That’s…wait, how far is that? An hour away?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. What should you have done? Downplay it?

You watched Jennie tilt her head, and when she spoke again, her voice was a little softer. “…Rosé said you were nice.”

Your face warmed, unused to compliments. You stalled for a second by taking off your shirt entirely, tossing it onto the driver’s seat. Reaching for the dry t-shirt in your gym bag, you managed to reply with a shrug. “Yeah, I like to think I am, I guess.”

“Maybe too nice,” Jennie pointed out. It wasn’t accusatory, not at all, but it was almost like a warning. Like a piece of advice.

You thought this over, putting on the t-shirt. “…Nah. I’m the perfect amount of nice. Everyone else should step up and get on my level.”

To your surprise, Jennie laughed. Kind of. Her version of a laugh was apparently a soft exhale through her nose, but you caught the way her cheekbones lifted for the briefest of smiles.

You cringed at the feeling of peeling off your wet jeans, throwing them away to join your shirt on the driver’s seat, and pulled on the thick, comfy pair of sweatpants instead. They were a little worn, maybe, but so soft. After suffering in those soaked clothes, they felt like heaven.

Now that you had solved the wet clothes issue, you took a moment to assess the situation the two of you had found yourselves in.

Staying the night in a car was not exactly ideal. The biggest concern was security, but in this regard, you were somewhat reassured. Your car might have been ancient, but it was big and sturdy, with strong thick windows you could barely see out of, let alone into. Nothing was getting in.

The next biggest concern, and one in which the solution was less obvious, was how the fuck you were going to stay warm. You couldn’t keep your engine running forever, which meant eventually, the heaters were going to have to turn off.

You might have been fine with your new clothes, but Jennie’s dress wasn’t exactly built for cold weather. You looked it over for a moment, how bare it left her arms, her shoulders, her delicate collarbones. She’d probably get so cold, even if she did look…

An idea suddenly came to you, and after a second of rummaging around in the dimness of the overhead light, you found what you were looking for, folded up and hidden away in one of the footwells. “Hey, Jennie?”

She turned around, eyes dropping for a second to note your new clothes, before bringing them back up to your face. “Yeah?”

“You want a blanket?” You asked, grabbing the item in question and extending it to her.

Her gaze shifted towards the blanket, brow furrowing. “You have a blanket in your car?”

“Yeah, it’s from…” you paused, debating whether it was worth telling the whole story, and decided you might as well. “I went on this star-gazing date thing with this girl who was super into astronomy a few weeks ago. The date kinda fizzled out, but the views were nice and the blanket was warm. I just forgot to take it out of my car.”

“Oh,” Jennie murmured, pausing for a second. Then, she reached for the blanket, taking it and drawing it over her shoulders. It was big enough that she could bundle herself within it, and you couldn’t help but smile as she took a moment to do just that, her hands pulling it tight around her.

It was…honestly, kind of cute, which was something you definitely didn’t expect to come from someone as cool and sophisticated as Jennie.

“It should be nice and warm,” you said, brightly. “It’s super thick.”

“Yeah, it’s fluffy,” Jennie murmured, almost to herself.

“I just figured you’d need it. I’m going to turn the engine off soon, so it’s going to be freezing in here.”

Jennie looked over at you. “Wait, do you have a blanket too?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, with a shrug.

Jennie made a face. “Again, like I said, you’re too nice. This is your car, and your blanket, and you’re going to spend the whole night freezing here without it. Stop inconveniencing yourself just for others.”

You frowned. “It’s not an inconvenience, you just need it more than I do.”

“Your hair’s still wet.”

“You’re wearing spaghetti straps.”

“Fine, we’ll just share the blanket then,” Jennie declared with a huff, like it was no big deal. Before you could even react, she was already tossing the blanket onto the backseat. “Do you want me to turn the engine off now? It’s already been running for ages.”

You blinked, still thrown by this sudden news of blanket-sharing. “Uh…yeah, I guess?”

You watched her lean over and turn off the ignition, retrieving your keys easily. The car engine, once a comforting steady hum of background noise, fell silent, as did your heaters.

Now, there was a strange air of quiet as Jennie made her way through the gap to join you on the backseat – and how the hell did she manage to make the journey over the centre console look that smooth?

Settling herself down into the space next to you, she draped the blanket over the two of you, shifting closer ever so slightly when it proved not quite big enough to cover you both easily.

…You know, if you’d had to guess where this night would take you, snuggling up with Kim Jennie under a blanket wouldn’t exactly be your first thought.

You weren’t quite touching, but you could feel her warmth, the unmistakable sign of just how close she was, just almost within reach.

You cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts before they wandered into more dangerous territory. “So, I don’t think I’ve ever heard how you and Rosé became friends?”

The corner of Jennie’s lip turned upwards into a half-smile. She reached up to her artfully arranged hairdo, began to carefully remove the hairpins holding it together, and talked as she did so. “We went to high school together. I only joined halfway through the year, and my English still kind of sucked. She…took me under her wing, I guess.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“Yeah. She’s always been great with things like that. With people,” Jennie said, before looking down at the blanket, and she shrugged one shoulder. “And I’ve just always been the bitch.”

You jerked upwards a little, affronted on her behalf. “I’ve never thought you were a bitch, Jennie.”

She removed another hairpin, and made a thoroughly unconvinced noise. “Pfft.”

“I haven’t!”

“Yeah, well…” she paused, eyeing you for a moment. “There’s not exactly many of you.”

“Well, screw what everyone else thinks,” you said, unable to stop yourself from raising your voice just a little. “They didn’t see you at Pride.”

“Pride?”

“Yeah,” you said. You remembered it clearly, even now, two years later. It was Rosé’s first time going to Pride after coming out, and she was so nervous. And then Jennie had turned up, sunglasses on and stone-faced - with a little Etsy-sourced handmade ally flag pin on the lapel of her Chanel jacket, and waving a pocket-sized rainbow flag in solidarity. “That’s always what I think about when I think of you. How good of a friend you were to Rosé that day.”

Jennie blinked at you, her face completely slack with surprise. You felt your stomach drop just a little, and you couldn’t tell if you’d said something wrong, or if maybe you’d said something perfectly right.

After a long moment, Jennie turned away, frowning. “…You really are too nice.”

You sighed, leaning back against the seat. On a whim, you shuffle just the tiniest bit closer, just so you can properly envelop yourself within this blanket. “I’m really not. I shouldn’t be, anyway.”

Jennie didn’t reply to that. Instead, she looked up at the roof of the car, and you pretended that you didn’t notice the brief second she bit her lip in thought. “So, I’ve never really asked, but…are you and Rosé a thing?”

You were caught off-guard by this question, but not by much. This wasn’t the first time you’d been asked something along these lines, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. “Nope. Just friends.”

“OK. And are you going to stay just friends?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” you remarked.

“It’s just…I figured that since you both like girls, and you’re really close…”

Jenny might have trailed off, but you could catch the gist of the sentence pretty easily – and you were determined to give a definitive answer to such an open-ended question. “

“No. She’s great, I love her but…you know, you don’t have to be into someone to love them. It’s like your dude friends, right? They like girls but that doesn’t mean they want to bang?”

Jennie’s expression faltered, and for a brief moment, you caught a flicker of emotion in her eye. “I wish.”

Those words were edged with something, and you realised you might have stumbled onto something a little too personal.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Jennie asked, and you were so startled by the sudden question that for a moment, you forgot all about that fairly obvious change in subject.

“…Yeah. Not many,” you admitted, but you weren’t particularly filled with guilt or shame or anything like that. Just a vague sense of embarrassment for your younger self, but that was pretty standard. “I’m always busy with school and stuff.”

With what was apparently the final hairpin removed, Jennie made quick work of the hair tie keeping her hair in such a perfect bun. Her hair – long, black, smooth, shiny – fell around her face, framing her perfectly. “What’s it like?”

“Um. Nice? I haven’t really dated-dated dudes, but I found that girls usually understood me a little more. The ones I’ve dated anyway. They could pick up all my little emotional tells. Intense, maybe. You can get very attached very quickly.”

“Hmm.”

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Jennie said. She opened her mouth like she was going to say more, closed it quickly, but there was a lingering thoughtfulness in her eyes. Like she was thinking very hard about something.

“What is it?”

“…I think…uh, well, it’s something I’ve…” Jennie sighed, frustrated at her uncharacteristic stumble with words, and tried to simplify it. “Girls are pretty.”

“They are.”

“And…some of them are more than that.”

“Yeah, quite a few.”

“Some of them are…” Jennie trailed off, looking at you. “You know, some are…”

You waited for her to finish her sentence.

She didn’t.

Instead, she leaned forward suddenly, and kissed you square on the mouth.

You barely had time to think, frozen, and she withdrew almost immediately.

“Oh, God,” she lamented, burying her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t even respond, wordless from shock.

Jennie kissed you?

Jennie kissed you.

Jennie – like, Jennie – kissed you.

…Huh.

“You don’t have to apologise,” you said, words slowly coming back to you. “It’s fine.”

She made a face – or, you thought she did, it was hard to tell through her hands – and muttered back. “No, I…I didn’t even ask, at the very fucking least, let alone…ugh.”

She sharply turned away, curling in on herself. Even from this angle, with her back to you, you could tell she was hoping for the ground would swallow her whole.

And still, from the glimpse of her cheek in profile, you thought you could see a blush.

You swallowed, looking down at your hands, trying to seem cool and composed as you shrugged. “You can ask now, if you want.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jennie still. She turned, slowly, fixing you with the wariest of looks. “…What?”

You glanced over to her, trying your best to stay calm despite the way your heart was starting to pound, and repeated. “You can ask now if you want.”

Jennie stared at you for a moment, silent.

And then…

“Can I…” she paused, the pink of her cheeks darkening even more, but she managed to stay strong. “Can I kiss you?”

You swallowed. “Yeah. Yes. Yes, you can.”

She leaned forward – and paused, just for a moment. The briefest moment in which to double-check one’s actions, to decide just what exactly one should do, and to change course if needed. Jennie paused for all that time, and still chose to follow through and kiss you again.

This time, you were ready. You met her halfway, one hand lifting up to cradle Jennie’s face. The kiss was sweet, tender, and when you pulled away to breathe, she chased after you tenaciously to reconnect.

Her lips were soft, full, and you couldn’t help but want to run your tongue along the bottom lip, just a little.

Not yet. Let her adjust, let her get used to….

You felt her hand find your waist under the blanket, and you shivered at the feeling of her fingertips just brushing the sensitive skin below the waistband of your sweatpants.

Taking that as an encouragement to start exploring, you let your hand wander from her cheek to her jaw, to the softness of her hair. You let the little strands wind around your fingers, combing through it, and you murmured against her lips. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, Jennie.”

Jennie didn’t respond in words, but instead by pressing her lips to the soft skin under your jaw. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the seat, and your breath left you shakily.

Her other hand found your thigh, pressing down slightly as she used it to support her own weight, to move even closer.

You were sat there, back pressed against the seat, legs parted, Jennie’s mouth on your neck, wishing for her to take notice and climb onto your lap, maybe slide that hand upwards underneath your shirt, maybe–

And then it hit you.

You stilled, muscles tensing, and you tried to pull away. “Jennie…”

She made the softest whine, protesting, and you had to very purposefully grip her by the shoulder and gently but firmly push her away before she realised just how serious you were being.

“Jennie,” you breathed, voice still uneven. You tried to stay firm, even in the face of her newly mussed hair, in the pink of her cheeks and the parting of her lips as she drew much-needed breath. “Jennie, you’re…you were upset tonight. I don’t want to–”

“No, I wasn’t,” Jennie argued, her gaze dropping to your lips.

You swallowed. “You were. Maybe this isn’t the best idea right now.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t…I don’t want to take advantage, if you’re feeling–”

“You’re not.”

“Jenn–”

“You’re not,” she repeated, insistent, and there was an unmistakable edge to her tone. Frustration, maybe? Anger? “Because I’m not upset, I…”

She paused, sighing bitterly, glancing upwards as she debated something.

“…Look, you want to know what happened tonight?” Jennie said, finally, jaw set with a determination to prove you wrong. “One of my guy friends asked me out. I turned him down, the fucking nicest way I could, and he still made a huge scene over it. My ex was there, they got into a whole thing, and I didn’t want to be there anymore to witness their dick-measuring contest. That’s it.”

She took a deep breath, as you tried to absorb her words, tried to wrap your head around this information, and continued with a new vulnerability in her voice.

“It didn’t upset me. It…it embarrassed me, sure. It fucking pissed me off, definitely. But it didn’t upset me. You’re not taking advantage just because I was in a bad mood. Was, because then we started talking, and…”

She glanced away, not quite brave enough to finish that sentence, but you could fill in the gaps yourself. Something – some warm feeling – bloomed in your chest.

“So, if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Jennie finished, squaring her shoulders, keeping her head held high as she stared you down directly. “But don’t pin it on me. I know what I want.”

You held her gaze for a moment, saying nothing.

And then, silently, you rested your hand on the curve of her hip, and watched the way her chest swelled with a surprised intake of breath.

“And what do you want?” You asked, voice very purposefully light, even as your thumb began to trace circles into the thin fabric of her dress.

Exhaling, slowly, Jennie let herself relax into your touch. “…More of that.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“You to kiss me,” Jennie said, bold, defiant.

You smiled, blinking innocently. “Kiss you where?”

The memory of her reaction – the way her face flushed, the way she almost choked on her own breath, the swallow that made her throat bob – would burn itself into your mind, never to be forgotten.

This time, it was you who initiated the kiss. You let your tongue run over her bottom lip, just as you’d wanted, before turning your attention elsewhere – the pink of her cheeks, the long column of her neck, the collarbone you’d been trying your best not to stare at the moment she got into your car.

You looped an arm around her waist and gently, carefully, pulled her onto your lap – not quite all the way, just enough for your thigh to slot itself comfortably between her legs.

“This is such a nice dress, Jennie,” you noted, running one hand up her side, from hip to waist to just brushing the side of her chest before coming up to her shoulder. Carefully, you hooked your index finger under the thin strap of her dress, letting it fall just off the shoulder.

You pressed a kiss to where it had once been, then a little lower. Then, a little lower again. And again. Slowly, carefully, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted. She didn’t, and when your mouth finally found its way to her breast, she let out the quietest little sigh.

It was becoming very obvious that Jennie wasn’t wearing a bra. You’d thought maybe she could have been wearing a strapless one, but no, it was becoming increasingly clear through the thin material that she absolutely was not. When your lips closed around her nipple through the fabric, Jennie’s hand found itself curling around the back of your head, and she let herself…press against your thigh.

That could be fun, you thought idly, getting distracted by Jennie’s first whimper when you let your teeth scrape against her. It could be fun to let Jennie ride your thigh.

Except there was something in you that wanted something a little more…hands-on. Maybe, just maybe, deep down, you’d admit that you wanted to show off a little.

So, you pulled away from her breast to press your lips to hers once more, bringing your left hand up to cradle her jaw.

And with your right, you let it slide under her tangle of dress skirts, and gently rested it on her bare knee.

“Is this OK?” You asked, pressing a little peck to the corner of her mouth.

“Only if it doesn’t stay there,” Jennie mumbled, tilting your head with her own hands to resume kissing.

Just as she wished, you very slowly slid your hand up her leg, along the soft and sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Jennie rolled her hips against your thigh, just once, impatient, but you didn’t rush yourself. This was half the fun, letting the anticipation build.

A fucking rush of satisfaction filled you when you felt just how wet Jennie had gotten for you. What an ego-boost it was, to run your fingers over where she and your thigh connected, to feel the damp lace against your fingertips, to hear Jennie breathily accuse you of teasing.

With another kiss, this time open-mouthed and against her neck, you pushed her underwear to one side and found her clit with the pad of your thumb. You rubbed circles into it, slowly, just to test what she might like.

Jennie moaned, loudly, her head falling forward. Her mouth was so close to your ear, allowing you to hear every single little catch in her breathing, every choked noise, everything, as you began to learn her body. She was sensitive, she liked it slow, and she especially liked when you murmured her name. You learned how to tell when she wanted something, when something was too much, how the muscles of her thighs tensed and clamped down at just the right balance of almost ‘too much’.

Your free hand drifted to the curve of her ass, squeezing slightly as you gently lifted her up – giving you just enough space to slip your middle finger inside of her.

“Fuck, Jennie,” you breathed, as she groaned and rocked backwards onto your hand. Before long, you could add your ring finger – and with the smallest repositioning of your hand, you made sure that with every motion, your thumb would drag across her most sensitive spot, and you felt the breath that punched its way out of her chest when she first discovered this.

You could make her come like this. And what’s more, you realised, you could make her come like this easily.

But there was something else that tempted you, an image that refused to leave your mind.

Why not leave it up to Jennie?

“You want me to keep doing this?” You asked, breathless, pausing to kiss the underside of her jaw. “Or do you want my mouth? It’s up to you, baby.”

The endearment slipped its way out of your mouth before you could stop it, but Jennie didn’t seem to mind. You watched her struggle with the decision, eyes dark and dazed with lust, biting her lip.

“Are you…” Jennie began, before pausing to let out another choked moan, eyes squeezing shut for a second, “…good?”

There was no way to answer that question without sounding like you were bragging, so you settled for a semi-sheepish grin. “Haven’t had any complaints.”

Jennie exhaled shakily, and nodded. “OK. Mouth, then.”

Carefully, you moved Jennie off of your lap, laying her down on her back across the backseat. You couldn’t deny that your new position, kneeling between her legs, one of your feet jammed in one footwell, the other leg awkwardly pressed against the edge of the seat, was cramped – but it was so, so worth the noises that forced their way out of Jennie’s mouth when your tongue brushed against her clit.

Fuck, it was so worth it. It was worth all the confined space and awkward manoeuvring that sex in a car provided, it was worth the hour-long journey, it was worth getting stuck in the mud and the inevitable wait for a tow truck and the freezing cold of the night, because all of it brought you Kim Jennie grinding up against your tongue, close to sobbing as she finally unravelled, coming with a sharp cry and thighs clamping down around your head.

You let her ride it out, watching her shake as she came down from the high, hooking your arm around her thigh as you turned your head to press a kiss to the soft skin there.

It took a few minutes, the car perfectly silent except for the heavy breathing coming from both of you, almost in unison, and the heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Until, finally, Jennie managed to push herself up to a seated position, chest still visibly rising and falling with every breath. She took in the sight of you, letting her head loll to one side against the headrest, and she gave you one of her little half-smiles.

“I never thanked you for driving all the way out here, did I?”

“No,” you replied, slowly, trying to keep yourself from smiling back.

Jennie reached out, offering her hand to you.

“Then, get up here and show me how to.”

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rin-vana · 10 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀───◌┈┈─── ♡ 𝇄 𝇃 𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐔𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 ┋ 𝐅𝐓. 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

⎯⎯ ( 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 ) : Blade x Reader

⎯⎯ ( 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 ) : Blade needs relief from his racing mind, and it's in between your legs that he decides how to relieve himself after his duties.

⎯⎯ ( 𝘾.𝙒. ) : Lots and lots of oral, Blade is a munch fr, implied multiple rounds, watersports (squirting), mentions of bondage bec readers hands are tied, implied established relationship, as always black reader

⎯⎯ ( 𝙒.𝘾. ) : 1,003, a drabble

⎯⎯ ( 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 ) : This is for a friend after I promise I'd write this and here it is. I'm tryna get more consistent with posting I promise <3

”𝑆𝐼𝑇 𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐿𝐿. '𝑆𝐴𝐼𝐷 𝐼'𝑀 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝐷𝑂𝑁𝐸.”

What has it been, hours? Blade continuously lapping in between your legs, his bandaged hands keeping you in place.

A numb feeling crept where his hands gripped your thighs, knowing that without his support they’d fall limp. You don’t know what has him so worked up like this, but it’s the least of your problems when you feel a harsh sting hit your side.

”Blade— oh my God, please.” You pleaded yet they fell deaf on his ears, his tongue working wonders on your engorged clit and you flinched every time he would do so much as flick it slowly. Not to mention his fingers, two of them plunging in and out of you, curled just the right way that had your brain turning foggy.

He wouldn’t even let you touch him, having your wrist bound and pinned above your head. He knew how to get you weak in the knees whenever he needed, whether it’d be a whisper in your ear about something mundane, or his habit of brushing hair past your shoulders to let his hands graze the skin on your neck.

Blade wants what he wants in that very moment, and very little hinders him. So your useless begs and pleas did go in one ear and out the other.

You were writhing so much that the navy blue haired male knew you were close, detaching his mouth from the swollen bud with a pornographic pop. His fingers continued applying pressure until you coated them in your milky essence, eliciting a satisfied hum from Blade that hardly looked at you, but at your fluttering and spasming pussy instead. ”Good, you can do one more for me, right?”

You only let out a mewl, words being stuck in your throat because Blade hardly gave you time to respond. The choice wasn’t yours to make. He was going to get what he wanted regardless if you were a crying mess or not.

This time his mouth replaced his fingers entirely, lips suckling ever so harsh to push you over the edge again. Your back had long since been arched off the soft duvet he had you on, with Blade on his knees. Your body was buzzing all over, vision blurred from the amount of fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

His hands were more-so gripping onto the edge of the bed, sheets becoming wrinkled under his touch, so you slowly pulled yourself back for any form of break, to get away from his warm mouth. But Blade was quick to pull you back to him, his lithe hands squeezing the underside of your thighs until they wrapped around your legs as a whole. ”I thought..,” he started, chest heaving from being breathless, ”..I said to sit still. You like making me feel good, don't you?”

”Yes-! Yes I do.. But—”

He promptly cut you off. ”Then you’d listen and let me indulge.” It was useless to fight against him when he so easily overpowered you in terms of strength. Your body was already shuddering and weakened from the amount of times he was able to make you cum from his fingers and mouth alone.

Not once did his grip falter, spreading your legs apart so he could get a better look at how he left you. Your slightly agape hole fluttered around nothing, and Blade reveled in the sight. It was practically crying for him, gushing your addictive flavor because of how badly you yearned for him to stuff you full.

Nothing compared to this, not even Kafka’s voice repeating like a mantra in his head. Your body was the temple he wanted to protect, to worship, to give his time towards. He wanted to watch you fall apart and be the reason for it, yet put you back together in the quiet of night.

You crumbled for him, voice whining about it “being too much” or you’re “getting close!” Blade wanted to see every bit of it. His tongue licked from your clenching hole up to your clit so slowly it felt like torture, closing his lips on your bundle of nerves as he looked up to your tear-stained face. He’s painted the expression in his mind countless times, but each was better than the last.

His groans and pace pick up and so does your movement, your upper body failing to keep still because all you want to do is close your legs, but Blade keeps you wide open. You’re close again, you don’t really want me to stop. It’s obvious by how loud you’re getting, a sheen building up all over your skin.

”Blade… Blade Blade Blade– stop.” You repeat his name over and over, but all it does is push him further. He’s groaning nonstop, sending so many pulsations throughout your lower body that it gets harder to hold back.

Your hands struggle further against your restraints, nails digging into the palm of your hands. If only he would answer you, but he clearly has a goal to reach.

One hand retracts from your thighs to give your clit more attention, two bandaged fingers giving it just the right amount of pressure. Blade’s tongue dips into your hole again, warm and wet and so good. All it takes is a few more rolls of his fingers and your spewing all over his face. Clear liquid squirts from one hole and another your cum that Blade damn near moans at.

From his nose down, Blade’s face is covered in you. Most of your cum dripped from his swollen lips, but he finally pulled away from your spent and sore hole. Your movements ceased and once he finally let go of your thighs, they fell limp onto the bed. He rose from his knees, undoing the belt around his waist and letting his coat fall from his shoulders.

You looked at him with tired eyes, clearly in a stupor as he loomed over you. ”I already told you, I’m not done.”

#blade hsr #honkai smut #honkai star rail #hsr blade #hsr blade smut #blade smut #blade x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader

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rottenpumpkin13 · 8 months

Note

Speaking of Lucrecia, Sephiroth is presented with a posthumous gift from his (supposedly deceased) mother. Since this has always been a sore subject with him and the gang of idiots, what sorts of sad or happy hijinks ensue?

• Sephiroth has a package delivered to his office one morning. Far too busy for unsolicited gifts, he asks the delivery person to take it back. The person insists he keep it, as it was part of the delivery instructions.

• After letting it sit in the corner of his office for most of the morning, Sephiroth caves and grabs the small box, brings it up to his desk and checks the shipping label.

• How curious. The package is clearly for him, with the correct address and name. But the return address....

• From Lucrecia Crescent had an added note under it done in blue ink: To Sephiroth, my baby.

• His hands grow numb from gripping the box so hard. He rips the tag off, then promptly makes for the R&D floor.

• "Who is is Lucrecia Crescent?" he demands of Hojo as soon as he sees him.

• The scientist doesn't look up from his work, and barely acknowledges Sephiroth's question with a cryptic smirk. He can sense the trembling, panicked undertone in Sephiroth's voice.

• "And where did you hear such a name?"

• Sephiroth doesn't have the patience for this. Not today. "Who is she?" He pushes, finally prompting Hojo to face him.

• The scientist lacks the urgency Sephiroth demands of him, and surveys his creation with a judgemental look he hides behind his dark glasses.

• "If you must know, boy, Lucrecia Crescent was a coward, a vessel for the development of my work and nothing more."

• "She was my mother, wasn't she?" Sephiroth presses.

• Hojo's response is laughter. His wheezy cackles fill the tense air, and last as long as Sephiroth can take them. He can't stand the sound mocking him, and finds the professor's crass response an answer enough. He leaves.

• Genesis and Angeal find him two hours later at a secluded area on the building's rooftop.

• "Running away like a rebellious teenager now, are we?" Genesis scoffs as soon as they see him.

• Angeal, on the other hand, is far more concerned with the box sitting beside Sephiroth and the small tab in his friend's trembling fingers.

• "We've been looking for you," he says. "Why did you run off? Is everything okay?"

• Sephiroth shakes his head, and takes the box in his hand as Angeal and Genesis sit on either side of him. Silently, he hands Angeal the tag and Genesis the box.

• Genesis analyzes the box, then looks to Angeal for a clue.

• "From Lucrecia Crescent," Angeal reads. "To Sephiroth.....My baby?"

• Sephiroth looks down, avoiding what he assumes to be judgemental eyes pinning him in place.

• "Lucrecia..." Genesis repeats breathlessly. "Is she your—" He looks at Angeal for help. "—Is this–is she...Is she your mother?"

• Sephiroth nods. "I think so. And if she is, what you're holding is what I assume to be a posthumous gift."

• Angeal nods. "She organized it before her death?"

• Genesis looks down at the box. "What's inside it?"

• Sephiroth squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. "I don't know. I don't know. I can't bring myself to open it."

• "I'll open it for you!" Genesis starts to rip the packing tape, but is reprimanded by Angeal before he can.

• "Gen!" he snaps "Don't even think about it!" Then he turns back to Sephiroth with a gentler tone. "Seph, you don't have to open it right now if you don't want to. These things take time to process. You need to go at your own pace."

• Sephiroth doesn't respond, and Angeal doesn't dare overstep.

• After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Genesis shrugs. "And whenever you do decide to open it, we'll be there with you."

• Sephiroth looks up at him, and Genesis can't help but gently brush a stray hand of hair away from his face. "For whatever you need," the redhead assures.

• Sephiroth nods, then looks back down at the box.

• A few more minutes pass, then Sephiroth takes it in his trembling hands.

• "We'll do it on three, alright?" Angeal says.

• Sephiroth and Genesis nod.

• "One, two..."

• Sephiroth tears the tape away and rips open the box flaps. A note is the first thing he sees, quickly reaching in and pulling it out.

Sephiroth, my darling baby boy and brightest star in the whole sky,

May your life be filled with more light than I could have ever given you, my love, and may the future be kind to you. I love you more than words can say, my son, my star, my baby. Forgive me.

Be good.

- Mother

• They sit in silence huddled over the letter. When Sephiroth finally finishes his nth read through, he peers inside the box.

• Staring back at him is a teddy bear.

• That was the first and only time in Sephiroth's life that he ever broke down crying.

• Angeal and Genesis are there with him, pulling him close, rubbing circles on his back. Angeal tells him it's okay to cry, whispers sweet words and gently takes the box away from him. Genesis ties his hair back and dries his tears.

• That night, Sephiroth doesn't let go from the stuffed toy for even a second. He's an unconsolable mess. Angeal has him stay in his apartment to keep an eye on him, and Genesis stays over too.

• They finally get him to eat a little bit of dinner, then get him to bed. Sephiroth falls asleep clutching the toy so hard his knuckles stay in a permanent blanched state.

• Angeal and Genesis sit back afterwards.

• "We could get him to try therapy," Angeal suggests.

• "We could also torture Hojo for more information on Ms. Crescent," Genesis shoots back.

• In the end, they both look at each other and crack small smiles.

• "This won't be easy, but at least we're starting somewhere," Angeal says.

• Genesis reaches over and fixes the blanket around Sephiroth. "At least now he knows who his real mother is."

#ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #ffvii crisis core #final fantasy #ff7r #angeal hewley #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 crisis core #lucrecia crescent

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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year

Text

Dealing with anything outside of the agency was just not your forte. Being stuck to your desk 24/7 hardly helped either but desperate times called for desperate measures so you turned to the only thing that felt familiar. To any sane person, turning to the mafia was an act of absolute lunacy but you were scared and in desperate need of protection and frankly, you didn't want to stress out your coworkers more than you already did. You knew that if you told them the extent of your fear and worries that they would drop everything they were doing and would assist you immediately but ... So much has happened these past few months. It wouldn't be fair to burden them. The mafia was your only option, if they'd have you.

Oddly enough you were welcomed with open arms and by an executive of all people.

There he sat across you in all his mighty glory, a cup of blood red wine on the table, legs crossed and the usual smirk you had come to expect from the ginger man. Despite being in a rival agency, Chuuya was always oddly curt towards you, maybe even downright polite. Well, that was his usual attitude towards strangers (unless he was being provoked that is) but with you it felt... Different. Did you like it? You didn't know. But that didn't matter at this point in time.

"I didn't think you'd come so openly to us." said Chuuya smugly, never once breaking eye contact with you. Feeling yourself tense up you opened your mouth to say something but he interrupted you instead.

"It's alright babe, I know a poor soul when I see one."

Wow, he was oddly intuitive. Uncrossing his legs Chuuya slightly lowered himself, possibly to grab the glass of wine that lay dormant on the table. With a sharp breath you finally spoke up:

"I'm being followed and I no longer feel safe in my own skin anymore. I don't want to bother anyone at the agency but I can't defend myself either so..."

Raising his finger in the air he promptly silenced you.

"So, what you're saying is that you want us to take the fall for whatever happens to you?"

Crap you didn't even bother thinking about the implications. A sudden wave of nausea hit you like a truck but it soon was magically replaced by confusion as the executive started to laugh.

"I'm kidding. I can be funny too, when I want to be."

You couldn't help but to break out into a tiny smile yourself, albeit a very crooked one. Chuuya didn't seem to mind though. You suddenly felt something warm on the top of your hand and you came to the realization that it was most likely Chuuya's hand. You felt his fingers trace various patterns across the soft flesh, like he was trying to get you to talk more, maybe even to soothe you?

You honestly weren't too sure.

His eyes shined with conviction, like a man on a mission. "Tell you the truth, I don't mind you coming here." he said gently. An odd feeling of warmth filled your chest as you blushed but Chuuya didn't allow you the luxury of turning your head.

"Look me in the eye when you speak to me, please. That's all I want."

Was he always so gentle? The Chuuya you knew was brash, loud and, and...

And like magic, he was suddenly next to you, both of your wrists trapped in a tight grip. Feeling his hot breath fan your face you almost felt like squealing but your stupid brain immediately went into overdrive, causing you to say the absolute worst possible thing.

"Dazai-"

"Dazai?"

Shit. Shit, shit, he was going to crush you -

Chuuya was beyond vocal with his distaste for the suicidal maniac and you always understood his reasoning.

But you were a fool and Dazai was charming. It was a very common occurrence for him to flirt with you in the office, to hold you close like this. Dazai was always light and airy, he would be gone almost as fast as he came.

It was fascinating how Chuuya was the complete opposite.

His presence was heavy and the way his eyes glared daggers at you almost made you regret your decision coming here. However, instead of numb pain or a sharp impact you were met with only softness as you could feel him climbing on top of you, your head and back making contact with the soft couch in the process.

"You are here with me and you have the nerve to say that bastards name?"

If he said anything else besides that, you wouldn't know. After all, how could you focus when the mafioso held you so tight but oh so sweetly, almost like a flower you were to scared to drop. You saw his lips move but you couldn't hear any noises that came out of them. For the tiniest second, you imagined what would be like to kiss him, to kiss the fiery man that hovered above you, to taste the bitter wine on his delectable lips.

Your fantasies soon crashed and burned the moment Chuuya said:

"You really should consider leaving the Agency and join us, y'know."

He... He can't be serious. He was joking, you were sure of it. Confusion was written all over your face but Chuuya's stayed the same, no cracks whatsoever. He tsked, his left eye twitching ever so lightly.

"Those detectives can't keep you safe, obviously. But, the Port Mafia can, I can. I can give you anything and everything, just say the word and it is yours."

His words echoed loudly inside your mind and you gaped like a fish, looking at literally anywhere that wasn't him.

Well, what will you do?

The choice is yours.

ENDING 1. (you leave the ADA) // ENDING 2. (you stay in the ADA)

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justmeinadaze · 10 months

Text

Head Filled With Demons Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N with Warnings: Demon Steddie and Human Fem Reader.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Read my warning and heed what I'm telling you. This chapter (kind of like the others) deals a lot with grief. With Eddie in part 2 it was grief of a partner and in this one its the grief of a parent. The guys do give her memories of her and her parents and reader does talk about her pain of losing her father. Yes he dad passes. I dont want you going in blind to that.

A lot of her feelings in the beginning are based off of my own when my dad passed away.

If this triggers you (which I completely understand) DO NOT read further. It is only in the beginning but still.

SMUT (DP, Steddie gets intimate, dom qualities seep through especially between them, choking, scolding, I think that's it), Angst, I am me so there is all the angst, Besides the mentions above there is talk about the grief of losing their realm (their home) , Steve talks a lot about feeling lonely and his guilt over not being able to protect his friends, Eddie talks about feeling their predicament is his fault. A war from their world is talked about and a vision is shown about how Steve saved Eddie <3, there is a cliffhanger ending so enjoy that :)

Fluff of course, they care about her and vise versa. There is also a lot of love mentioned and expanding on between these two demons.

ENTER WITH CAUTION! THIS WILL MAKE YOU FEEL!

Word Count: 7976

“Y/N. Y/N, sweetie. Wake up.”

You grumble at the sound of your father’s voice before fully sitting up. “Dad. Oh my goodness. Are you ok?”

“Yes, baby. I’m fine. I haven’t felt this good in a long time actually.”, he chuckles as his finger brushes your hair behind your ear like he always did when you were little. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

Without waiting, he exits your room as you throw off your blankets. Suddenly remembering where you were the night prior, your hands flew down expecting to feel the silky red fabric but you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw your pajama shorts and tank top.

When you entered the living room, you found your dad staring out the front window. Once again, Hawkins was engulfed in flames but this time it didn’t frighten you. You had come to see this sight so many times that you were beginning to feel numb to it.

“I asked them to look after you for me; your friends.”

“Dad, they aren’t going to be here for too long.”

He smiles as he turns away from the glass and takes your hand in his. “Your mom used to say that about you. ‘Honey, you have to enjoy the kid years because they aren’t here for too long. Soon she’ll be off to college and married.’”

When his gaze shifted, you reached to bring it back to yours.

“Dad, I don’t blame you for how my life is. This isn’t your fault. I love seeing you every day and spending time with you.”

He nods, grasping your other hand. “I guess this task you have to complete is the last time you’ll be taking care of someone. Funny it would be the whole world.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Promise me, Y/N, when this is over that you’ll finally live your life for you and be happy.”

“When what is over? Dad? Wait…”

After kissing your forehead, he released you from his hold and started heading for the kitchen where your mother was waiting with a smile of her own.

“Don’t be too hard on them, Y/N. This isn’t their fault.”

“What isn’t?! No! Come back! Don’t leave me here alone!”

As they walk down the hallway, sunlight blinds you as you fall to your knees.”

Your eyes shoot open and you promptly jump out of bed to run to your father’s room.

“Honey, hang on a minute—” Steve tries to stop you as you push him out of the way. His head hangs as Eddie glares towards the opposite end of the house. He closes his eyes as they hear you scream and listen to you sob.

***

“Miss Y/L/N?”, Detective Hopper said your name with so much delicacy as he kneeled in front of you from your place on the couch. “I…I know how hard this is for you right now but I want you to know if you need anything, of course, feel free to come by the station. We have, uh, services that can help you and you’re not alone.”

You nodded without saying a word causing him to sigh as he stood up and headed out the door. Once everyone was gone, you headed for your father’s bedroom and laid down on his mattress, inhaling his smell. Steve’s hand caressed your leg but you barely felt it; you couldn’t feel anything.

Eddie sits in front of you and music suddenly fills the area. Glancing his way, you notice a guitar in his hands as he gently began plucking the strings. His soothing voice began to sing and you feel your body practically melt into the mattress as your soul calmed and your eyes closed.

“You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you You'd be like Heaven to touch I wanna hold you so much.”

Your mother gathers her things and jacket as she heads out of the dressing room door.

“Um excuse me. I…”, your fathers words trailed off as she stopped to face him. “I just, um, I… oh shit!”, the man cursed as he tripped over his feet and fell onto the ground right in front of the beautiful ballerina.

“Oh no. Are you alright?”, she giggles as she helps him up.

“Yeah, um, I guess I’m not as graceful as you are with your feet.” Her grin grows as a happy sigh leaves his lips at the sight. “I just wanted to tell you that I think you did great out there. You dance very, uh, very well.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes scan his as he nervously nods, scolding himself as he turns to walk the other way and leave her alone to hide from the shame. “Hey, I was going to grab some food. Would you like to join me?”

“At long last, love has arrived And I thank God I'm alive You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you.”

Your father sings those lyrics to your mother as they dance together in their wedding wardrobe.

“You’re such a goofball.”

“Yeah, but I’m YOUR goofball.”, he smiles wide as he spins her and her dress twirls.

“Till death do us part.” She leans forward to kiss him, giggling when he lifts her off the ground.

Guests clap as they join them on the dance floor and begin swaying to the music.

“When do you think we should spring the news on them about the baby?”

“I love you, baby And if it's quite alright I need you, baby To warm the lonely night I love you, baby Trust in me when I say.”

“Daddy!”, six-year-old you cries as you run into the house.

“Oh no, sweetheart. What happened?” Your father meets you halfway lifting you up onto the counter.

“I fell.” He makes a small hm noise as he inspects your bloody knee.

“That’s ok, my love. We can make it all better.” Reaching above you, your dad grabs the band aids and rag that he quickly wets before coming back to you to clean you up.

“You know, mommy falls all the time when she’s practicing.” He poses like a ballerina, making you giggle. “But she gets right back up and keeps dancing.” After placing the bandage over your cut, he leans in to kiss the top before kissing your forehead. “Alright, go get back out there and keep playing!”

“Oh, pretty baby Don't bring me down, I pray Oh, pretty baby Now that I've found you, stay And let me love you, baby Let me love you.”

“My daughter; the high school graduate. I’m so proud!”

You roll your eyes playfully as your dad snaps another picture.

“Dad, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is! You worked hard to get here and I know your mom is smiling down from heaven agreeing with me. I heard our song on the radio this morning so I know. ‘I love you, baby. Trust in me when I say.’” You grin as he sings and tries to dance with you before he begins to cough. “No, no. I’m fine. It’s fine.”, he shoos as you rub his back.

“This is your day, honey. Come on. Let this old man take you to dinner and then I’ll set you free to hang out with your friends.”

The music stopped as your eyes opened to both demon’s looking down at you tenderly. Eddie’s hand reached out to touch your cheek and you immediately broke as you sobbed. Falling to his back, he pulled you to his side and held you tightly to him as Steve laid behind you, wrapping his arms around you to do the same.

#############

“Y/N, sweetheart.” Eddie tries to pet your head but you shuffle away from him as you roll over in bed.

“Honey, we don’t want to push you but we’re on week two here. You have to kill another person.”

They both sigh aggressively as you pull the blankets over your head. Abruptly the covers disappear and you find yourself standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror with them on either side of you.

“Maybe we can go for a walk outside, get some sun, find a victim. You know, fun stuff.”

“Stop it.”, you scold Steve as you try and leave but he blocks you with his body.

“Y/N, you have to do this.”

“Fuck off, Steven.”, you sneered. It took all of his energy to hold down his temper as his eyes met your own.

“I know you’re in an immense amount of pain, Y/N. I’m really fucking sorry about that. If there was anything we could have done, I swear we would have. That being said, you still have a responsibility to save the world.”

“Why?” His eyebrows furrowed together at your question. “My world is gone. Why should I help all these fucking assholes especially the assholes in this stupid, greedy fucking town! Fuck them! Let them suffer.”

“That’s not what your parents would have wanted.”

“Oh, fuck you, Eddie! You both didn’t know my mom and you met my dad once! You have no idea what the fuck they wanted!”

“How quick you forget, little one. We can see into your soul. We may not have been there but we saw and felt everything because you did.” His ring lace palm lands on your chest. “They were both good people like you and wanted what’s best for you. They would not have wanted you to die burning with the world.”

You exhale heavily as you push down the urge to cry again. “Fine. I’ll go for a fucking walk.”

***

You stroll with your head down in no particular direction and since they succeeded in at least getting you out of the house your demons don’t pester you but remain close behind. It isn’t until you hear the gravel under your feet that one of them finally speaks.

“What is the point of a high school?” Pausing you turn to glance at them, finding their eyes looking at the building behind you as Steve continues. “I mean, you guys have the little kid school and a middle one but then you have a high one? It feels excessive.”

“Demons don’t have schools?”

“Uh, not exactly. I mean, we have training or Steve and I did rather. It kind of depends on what you plan to do.”

“So you’re telling me you two planned to be killers?”

They blinked as their gaze shifted back to you. “Again…not exactly.”

You walked over to one of the side doors, huffing when you find it locked. With a quick snap, they open and the three of you wonder inside.

“My father wasn’t royalty like the king but he was respected. He was kind of like humans version of a general or captain. The princess’s father told him where he wanted us and he made sure things got done. He wanted me to be just like him.”

“Which is ironic because I don’t think your dad ever killed one thing a day in his long miserable life.”, Eddie muses as he touches some of the assignments hanging along the school walls. “Who needs this stuff? Fucking quadratic formula?” He grins when he notices you smile.

“You didn’t want that, Steve?”

“I don’t know what I wanted. Honestly, I don’t really think I had a choice.”

“What about you, Eddie?”

“I like singing and playing my instrument. That’s what I wanted to do with my existence but… I mean you do what you have to do.”

“Why did you have to hurt people?”

“Demons and creatures. Not people, sweetheart. We don’t usually play here in this realm, not our kind anyway. Um, so my father was I guess what you would call a deserter. There was a big war in our realm a LONG time ago and he, uh, he ran. Demons like Steve found him and brought him back. He, as far as I know, is still being tortured in a king’s cell. I offered to take his place in the army; youngest demon to do so.”

“That must have been hard. Your mom didn’t protest?”

“Kind of like yours, princess, mine died awhile back.”

You turn to Steve who softly smiles. “Mine did everything and anything my dad wanted so what I did or wanted didn’t really matter.”

You guys enter the cafeteria and they marvel at the simplicity of it.

“When did you two meet?”

“When he volunteered, I kept an eye on him. No offense, buddy, but in the beginning, you weren’t the fighter type.”

“That’s fair.”, Eddie giggles as he hops onto a table and walks along it.

“Out on the field he sacrificed himself to protect one of the younger ones and was about to die before I saved him.”

The metalhead looking demon clasped his hands together dramatically. “My hero.”

Steve playfully scrunches his nose at him as they both grin.

“Can I see it?”

“Are you sure you want to? There’s some violence. You hated that last time.”

“It’s ok. I want to see.”

He nods at your request and as soon as he snaps his fingers you find yourself on a red stained battlefield. Something screeched above your head and you ducked down nearly missing the winged creature that soared by. Off in the distance, you saw a young boy with a sword fighting a demon twice his size. He was doing alright until you noticed someone sneaking up behind him.

“Kid, look out!”, you screamed but you voice had an echo. Someone else had shouted the same thing at the same time. Before you could fully register what was happening Eddie swished past you and his sword blocked the other demon’s from hurting the young boy.

The kid continued to fight the being in front of him as Eddie fell backwards, his weapon keeping the other from penetrating his body.

“Eddie! Hang on, man. I’m coming.”

“No…rush…Dustin. Take your time.”, he hissed through gritted teeth. Suddenly, the demon above him grunted before collapsing to the side. Steve spit on the ground beside him before tugging his weapon out of the thing’s skull and extending his hand to his new friend.

“That was brave. Stupid but brave.”

“Thank you? You always have a way with words, Steven.” Eddie points towards the boy who finally slays his monster and beams over at them with pride. “Aren’t you their protector?”

“Yes, but this one keeps ignoring my advice.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not that mad at me.”

“I miss that little fucker.”, Eddie sighs as you guys head towards the hallway.

“What happened to him?”

“He’s still there in our realm. When we left, he was just starting a little family of his own.”, Steve smiled but you could see the pain behind it.

“So, it really has just been you two for all this time.” They nod but notice you make a thinking face as you enter the front office.

“What was that there? What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you guys something but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Their eyes narrow in your direction as they take a seat in the chairs in front of the principal’s desk and cross their legs.

“Well, have at it, little one.”

“You won’t disappear?”

“Scouts honor.”, Steve chuckles as he crosses his heart.

You grin as you sit in the comfy chair across from them. “When we were together last time, I, um, I thought I saw you two kissing and touching each other.”

Neither moves nor do they take their eyes off you.

“What’s your question, honey?”

“Is what I saw…real?”

Their heads tilt at the same time and you cross your own legs to suffocate the ache the sight gives you.

“When you spend…a millennia alone with one other being…things happen.” You can tell Eddie is choosing his words carefully but so were you so you couldn’t be annoyed about it. This past week had been one of the worst weeks of your life. You felt so numb and was desperate to feel something, anything. Even if that was them getting angry with you.

“Do you two fuck each other?”, you ask bluntly.

“Yes.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised by Steve’s equally blunt honesty.

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”, Eddie answers.

“Were you always intimate? Even in your realm.”

“No.”

“Answer me.”

“We did.”, Steve growls but it wasn’t exactly an angry growl. You had heard that before from them. This was protective; like with Eddie’s memories of his princess, for them this was personal.

“Do you trust me?”, you ask and they shift their gaze to each other.

“You don’t understand, Y/N.”

“Help me to, Ed.”

“Honey, do you know the last time we were out like this? 1932. Before that? 1885.”

“Maybe you can use some of that math you learned from high school to find out how much time Steve and I spend alone.”

“Even then, we meet you people and it’s never for long. Eddie and I are each other’s constant. We understand each other and what we’ve been through…what we are STILL going through.”

“What can you show me?”

Steve snickers at your question. “Nothing because it’s none of your damn business, little girl.”

“Why?”, Eddie asks causing his friend to whip his head in his direction. “Why do you want to see it? To get off?”

Without hesitation you shake your head. “I want to understand. I want to help if I can.”

Both their eyes soften at your confession. “We’re here for you, sweetheart, you don’t need to help us.”

“Ok. No, I understand. I just want you to know that if…if you two want to be together when you…when we…I don’t mind.” You smile at them as you stand up and exit the principal’s office. As soon as you walk through the doorway, however, you look around to realize you’re in the hall of your home.

Two hands grip your shoulders as fingers snap and images flash in front of your eyes. Since they can’t show you within the stone and where they stay, all you are able to see are flashes of small intimate moments like the one you experienced with them but with other beings who had summoned them.

“Fuck…” This was different than the other visions they gave you. This was like when they fucked you and you felt your soul leave your body before your climax brought you back to earth. “Why…oh… oh my…feel…”

You felt the feelings heighten as your core warmed between your legs. Steve’s voice cut through your euphoria but he sounded so far away.

“Because this is us. The way we feel about each other…is the way we feel about you, baby. Can you see it? The love we have for each other?”

A woman in a long fancy thirties style gown drops to her knees, taking his cock into her mouth. Eddie removes the demon’s jacket, throwing it to the side before leaning his forehead on Steve’s back and wraps his arms around to his chest.

“Fuck, yes, honey.”, he groans as the demon places tender kisses along his back.

Eddie pushes the man over the end of the bed and roughly thrusts into him. As his eyes close, Steve turns his friend’s head and kisses his lips as their tongues mingle together. Their hands caress each other’s face before pulling away as he pumps into him harder.

The pressure builds in your stomach as you feel the coil beginning to wind.

As you sleep, they lay on either side of you, gently caressing you before Steve reaches out to touch Eddie’s cheek.

“Are you ok? I know it’s been a while since you’ve talked about her.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just thinking about Y/N. I don’t want to leave her, Steve. She actually fucking cares about us. It’s been so long since I felt that.”

The demon leans over and places a kiss on his lips.

“I know. I don’t want to either but…no matter what happens…you’ll have me.”

The ball in your belly explodes as you begin to scream but it’s muffled by a palm as you blink back into reality. They were both standing in front of you with Steve’s hand in your jeans as his fingers continued to thrust you through your climax.

“Atta girl. Come back, sweetheart. Come back to us.”, Eddie cooed as he removed his own hand from your mouth.

Your panicked eyes began to look around as you pushed them both out of the way and ran to the living room. The metalhead looking demon appeared suddenly in front of you and captured you in his arms.

“Y/N, it’s ok, baby. You’re ok. Calm down.”

You turned around and smacked him, startling him as he dropped you to the ground. Your hair blocked your face as you pushed up on your hands and knees, heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

“Y/N, baby girl. Breathe. Talk to me. What’s happening?”, Steve asked in a stern protector filled voice. “I know this may be a bit of a shock but you’re scaring us.”

The room suddenly goes silent before your exasperated laugh fills the area. Falling to your side, he pushed your hair out of the way.

“Yeah? That’s funny?”, the demon smiles. “We’ve never shown anyone that before. What happened? Was it too much?”

“Do you two…recognize that it’s more…than love?”

Eddie slides down the to the floor, handing you a glass of water that you thanked him for.

“What do you mean, princess?”

You shakily sat up, their hands shooting out to help you. “I didn’t just feel the affection. I felt…the pain of being lonely…missing home. Of no one understanding you and what you went through. As…as I saw the later years, I felt the need and wanting to be left alone. I felt Steve’s anger at feeling out of control and your guilt, Eddie, over feeling like him being here was your fault.”

You started to cry again as you continued. “Then I felt how you feel about me. Please…please don’t love me. I don’t want you to hurt like that again.”

Steve almost aggressively pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. All Eddie could do was stare as he watched you shake in his friend’s embrace. A week ago, you had just lost someone who meant the world to you. Someone you had cared for most of your adult life. Within under 2 weeks, you needed to kill two more people, something you never meant to do or become to save humanity. You had been used for your kindness by so many people, yet you were still so empathetic and willing to help.

You had every reason to become bitter and angry, yet even now you weren’t thinking about how after the timer ends, they would disappear from your life to. You were worried about how that was going to destroy them. They had never met demons or creatures from what you humans referred to as hell but looking at you now he was pretty sure he was in love with an angel from heaven.

###########

“Thank you.”

Both their eyes shifted up to from their place at the dining room table to look at you. After they calmed you down, they were finally able to get you to sit and eat something even though you protested the entire time insisting you weren’t hungry.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to show me that. Like I said, I don’t mind if you two—”

“You’re welcome.”, Steve cut you off with a tight smile.

You understood without him needing to explain. You felt how important that bond with his friend was. Their current lives revolved around serving people and this was something that was theirs; something no one could take from them.

“Can I ask you one more question and I promise to leave you alone for tonight?”

They nod, preparing themselves for whatever was about to come.

“Did my dad ask you to watch over me?” Eddie heavily sighed as Steve nodded again. “C-can I…?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve been through so much tonight already.”

“Please, Edward. Please.”, you beg. His eyes lock with yours at the sound of his name. He blinks as a tear escapes them and you notice his irises are no longer brown but his red demon eyes. “I’m sorry. Are you…are you angry?”

He adamantly shakes his head. “No, baby, I’m not angry. I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”

You rise from your seat and find home in his lap as you keen into his neck, wrapping your arms around him.

His hand tenderly pets your head, running his fingers through your hair as he holds you close.

“Steve.”

The sound of him snapping echoes from behind you and as you look up towards the other end of the table, you see your father coughing as you run towards the bedroom to get his medicine.

His palm reaches out to grip Steve’s arm and the demon covers it with his own hand comfortingly.

“My daughter must…like you two if she…brought you home. Since I got sick, people stopped… coming by.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You two are amazing people.”

He grins at Eddie’s compliment. “Look after her for me…please. She deserves to be loved and cared for the way she does with everyone else.”

Steve nods as he leans closer to him. “Everything’s going to be alright, sir. I promise.”

Your father starts to cough again as you reappear with his medication.

“Ok, let’s get you to bed and then tomorrow we can go back out to look for lucky person number 2.”

“I have to go back to work tomorrow.”

“Even better. Definitely likely to find someone in that shitty environment.”, Eddie softly smiles down at you as he lifts you up and brings you to your bedroom.

“Can we—”

“No. Not tonight.”, Steve cuts you off again, this time with a bit more anger.

“I don’t care if it’s my way or the demon way. I just want you both. Please Steven. Please…”

An aggressively angry growl came up from his stomach making you jump as you hid behind Eddie’s shoulder. They both exchanged a look that seemed to make the other demon angrier.

“No, Eddie.”

“Steve, it’s ok.”

“It’s not fucking ok!” He abruptly disappeared until you heard frustrated grunts in the kitchen. “Goddamn it, Edward! Fucking stop!”

Eddie sighed as he calmly grabbed your hand and walked with you back out towards the area.

“She’s not even asking for that! Didn’t we show her enough?!” Steve tries to leave again and you watch as he blips from the kitchen into the living room. The demon turns around to face his friend, stalking towards him, and grabbing his throat as he shoves him against the nearby wall.

“Steve, Eddie stop! It’s ok.”

Eddie raises his palm in your direction, silencing you as he stares at the other demon.

“What are afraid of, Steve? Hm?” His nose brushes against the tip of his. “Come on, baby, tell me.”

“Y/N…you felt it…you’ve seen it. EVERYTHING we’ve been through.”, he shakily exhales. “What you didn’t see were the angry nights when the cabin fever sets in. The nightmares of home and memories of things we no longer have. Those nights where I just feel so out of fucking control. This demon, my friend, he keeps me sane. He holds me on those days I can’t stop shaking from just wanting to tear our fucking environment to the ground. The first time we were together…it was the first time in a long while I felt safe.” Steve chuckles as he leans back and lets Eddie go.

“It’s kind of funny, huh? A demon being scared and lonely.” He glances your way before shifting to his feet. “I’m afraid of that changing. I don’t want that safe feeling he gives me to go away.”

You tackle him into your arms, squeezing him tightly to you. “I would never do that. I would never change what you two have. You’re safe with me to, Steven. I promise.”

The two demon’s eyes meet, continuing to stare at each other as Eddie takes your hand and places it on his groin.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Get us started and we’ll do the rest.”

As you sink to your knees, their clothes disappear as their cocks come into view in front of your face.

“Y/N.”, Eddie says your name sternly as he quickly grips your wrist. “We may lose control here in the sense of keeping up our appearances. If you get scared or you feel unsafe, I want you to say ‘red’, okay?” Their eyes remain focused on one another but you notice Steve’s chest deflate as he exhales.

“Yes, sir. Say red if I get scared or feel unsafe.”

“Good girl, princess.” With that the demon releases his hold on you, capturing his friend’s cheeks and bringing his lips to his own.

Gripping both of them you stroke and suck their lengths as they groan above you. When your eyes glance at them, their tongues mingle together as Eddie takes hold of the other demon’s throat. Their cocks get harder in your hands at the action.

“Since when do you shove me against a wall and tell me what to do? Huh, little boy?”, Eddie murmurs roughly against his lips. “I may have given you too much control up here.”

“Fuck-- I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Eddie whispered something in his ear that you couldn’t hear but whatever it was made Steve growl like he did before in the forest. He nodded before abruptly leaning down to lift you into his arms and carry you to the couch. After tearing off your clothes, he places you vertically before sinking down on his knees and pushing your legs wide open as his tongue licked a few stripes between your folds.

“Oh, Steve!”

The demon promptly sat up straight as his palm shot out to slap you before roughly grabbing your cheeks.

“You’ve been saying my name properly all fucking day with an attitude or with that pathetic little pout. Now when I’m between your legs making you feel good you suddenly don’t feel the need?!”

“I’m sorry, Steven. I won’t do it again. Please, don’t stop.”

Without a word, his lips wrap around your clit as he sucks and flicks at the little bud. Eddie lowers himself behind him, pulling his hips flush with his own as he kisses up Steve’s back. His arms wrap around to his chest as he trusts forward making the other demon moan loudly into your cunt.

You tried to keep your eyes open as you watched Eddie pump into him, your fingers threading through his hair as his head pushed up into the feeling.

“Come on, Steven. Make our pretty girl—mmm—make her cum. Make her cum and I’ll allow you to, my good boy.”

Steve pushed his mouth deeper into you like a man possessed. With every grunt and flick, he had you coming undone.

“Yes, Steven! I’m gonna…” Your body trembled as you came. As the aftershocks coursed through you, you opened your eyes noticing his head was hung as Eddie thrust into him harder. Sliding to the floor between his arms, you placed his head in the nook of your neck as you ran your fingers through his hair.

You felt it as soon as his forehead touched your flesh, his demon skin mixed with sweat. Your nails ran down his back as the other demon leaned back on his knees, holding his waist as he groaned. His eyes locked with yours as he felt Steve tighten around him as he came, you pressing his face into your throat as he panted.

Eddie carefully pulled out and collapsed on top of him as he reached beneath him to massage his chest.

“Good boy, Steven. Very good. You feel so fucking good when you cum. Come on. We aren’t done yet.”

Without looking at you, Steve got up to sit on the couch beside you and lift you onto his lap. “Hold-hold open your ass for me, honey, and lean forward a bit.”

“You promise you’ll go slow?”

One of his palms lightly wrap around your throat as he tugs you against him where his lips are waiting. “I promise.”, he whispers and you nod before doing what he asked.

Gripping the base of his cock, he gradually pushes the tip into you causing you both to hiss; him more than you.

“It’s ok, Y/N. You’re doing good, sweetheart. Look at me.” A loud, deep snarl from behind startles you and on instinct you try to turn around but Eddie quickly cups your face in his hands. “No, no. I said look at me not him.”

“Fuck. Is he ok?”

“Yeah, baby girl. He’s fine. Maybe a little overstimulated but…”, he grins. “How does he feel?”

“B-big.”

“You’re not wrong.”, Eddie chuckles as he caresses your face, watching you carefully as his friend finally bottoms out. You whine at the fullness as he bends towards you to kiss your lips. “I know, princess. I know. Let me know when you’re ready for me, okay?”

“Don’t move her to much, Eddie. She’s—mmm—she’s so fucking tight.”

“Lean back, little one, but keep your eyes on me.”, he murmurs in a gentle tone as you do what he says. His arm forcefully shoots out to grab the boys face. “What’s my name, Steven?”

“Edward.”

“And who’s in charge right now, little boy?”

Eddie had leaned past you to scold the other demon but you kept your eyes in front of you for fear of that wrath being turned on you. At that moment, his palm was holding your head as you keened into his touch. You wanted him to keep gently praising you whether it be with his words or his hands.

“You are, Edward.”, he responded through clenched teeth.

When he came back to face you, his eyes were that red color you were beginning to get used to. Being in control again, having you both submit and beg reminded him of the glory days back home. Ironically, however, having this kind of control was making him lose control of his mask as the demon side of him was pushing through. It was the same for Steve. He may be vulnerable for Eddie but in moments like this it reminded him he was safe.

The protector just needed someone to take care of him for once and he found that in moments like this.

Your thumb ran under his eyes, giving him pause.

“Is this okay? It’s not frightening you, is it?” When you shook your head, he softly smiled. “Good. Full disclosure, Steve’s having a harder time than me so just keep those beautiful eyes on me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie’s palm took hold of your thigh as he scooted closer to you both between your legs. Even with just his tip, you felt full of them both. The demon’s fingers continued to caress your cheek and lips as he slowly pushed forward.

“Good girl, sweetheart. Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

His last couple of words came out deeper than what you were used to causing your pussy to flutter around him. His growl was low at the feeling, almost like a warning that just turned you on more. Steve’s palms looped around to firmly knead your tits as his fingers played with your nipples.

“Steven, ca-can I—mmm—can I kiss you?”

Tenderly, he tilted your head and placed his lips on yours. When his tongue slid into your mouth, a tiny gasp escapes you at how different it felt. The many times he had kissed you previously, he had a normal tongue, a human tongue. This time it felt longer, thicker, and tasted different…better. It tasted like Steve. When he tried to pull away, your hand shot out to the back of his neck holding him where he was.

The grunt that left him was guttural, coming straight from his stomach making you whimper at the sound. Fingers roughly grabbed your cheek and forced you to face forward.

“Y/N…”, Eddie warned. “You’re playing with fire, little one.”

With him being fully sheathed inside of you now, he was a lot closer to your face than he was previously.

“Can I taste you to?” He started to bring his lips to your own but you pulled back slightly before he could reach you. “I want to taste you, Edward.”

Slowly, he tilted his head to kiss you and you willingly opened your mouth to invite him in. When his tongue caressed your own, your whole body came alive and you relished the feeling. Sensing the change, he began to lean away but you hastily grabbed his chin.

“No, no, please. It’s not you. I just…all week I’ve been…having trouble feeling anything. It’s nice feeling this.”

Eddie heavily sighed, his breath warming your face as his forehead landed on your own. Hesitantly, you tried kissing him again and he allow it, tangling his fingers in your hair as they both thrust their hips. You mewled as he held your head to his, Steve groaning and whimpering behind you.

Guiding you back, Eddie laid your head on his friend’s shoulder as they both gripped your hips and slammed into you. You wanted to keep your eyes open but the euphoria of them working together this way was too much. You felt the sudden shifts against your skin as they struggled to keep up their appearances. Rough material grazed you every now and then and the sounds they made were deep like a predator asserting dominance.

You wanted to become accustomed to them…who they really were underneath the illusion they displayed for you. You tried your best to cling to the demon skin but it was too harsh on your sensitive human tissue. A ringed palm grabbed your throat as another came from behind to circle your clit.

“F-fuck… cum, pretty girl. You deserve it. Come on, baby.”, Eddie chanted as they both thrust into you harder.

In that moment, you opened your eyes to find his red ones watching you intently.

“You’re both…both so beautiful.”

He chuckled as he leaned closer to you. “Not as beautiful as you, princess.”

“Don’t take…your eyes…off me.” The demon nodded and your eyes remained locked with his as your body shook, screaming as you came.

The sight was almost too much for Eddie as his hips pounded into your own, growling as he released his seed inside of your cunt.

“I know. I know. It feels so fucking good. Thank you. Thank you.”, you cooed as your thumb ran along his bottom lip. Leaning back, you met Steve’s own red eyes as your arm circle around his neck to run your fingers through his hair. “Cum Steven. Fill me up to. Please. I need it.”

His limbs wrapped around you tightly and he thrust up into you roughly a few more times before you felt his seed warm your insides. Nobody moved as they panted against you.

“Eddie. Steve. Something is hurting me.”

Your protector’s head immediately comes to attention as he quickly scans you over. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, honey. I’m sorry.” Both demons carefully pull out of you and you wince as Eddie lifts you his arms as they head for the bathroom.

Looking into the mirror, you notice some cuts along your back that were bleeding.

After turning on your shower, they guide you in as Steve begins to take care of you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think when I held you to me. My skin is a lot tougher than yours.”

“Why is that?”, you ask trying to distract yourself from the slight pain.

“I mean…different realm, different environment and climate, constant fighting and war…take your pick.”, Eddie laughs. “Your skin protects you against the sun and your earths elements, right? Same thing essentially.”

“Thank you…for this past week…for being there.” You don’t see but they both exchange a look.

“I wish we could do more.”, Steve sighs as he turns off the water and they dry you off before leading you back to your bedroom. “These aren’t deep. They should heal in a few days.”

As you wonder around your room getting ready for bed, you notice they are both now fully clothed again as they sit on your mattress waiting for you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie rub his back before he tenderly kisses his shoulder.

“I wish I could do more for you.” They blink in confusion as their gaze shifts to you. “I know you said it’s not a prison but you both don’t seem happy. I wish I could set you free or something.”

They both look away as you turn off the light and crawl into bed between them, resting your head on your pillow. Eddie’s fingers play with your hair as they watch you close your eyes and scoot as close to them as possible.

“Princess, can we ask you something?” You responded with a small hm as you waited. “You said you felt the love we have for you?”

“Mhmm.”

“Did you feel that it’s real? How much we genuinely care about you?”

“Hmm…mhmm…”, you respond sleepily.

Steve laid flat on his side as his eyes scanned your face before reaching over to hold your hand which you immediately snuggled to your chest.

“I love you, Y/N.”, he whispered.

Eddie’s arm reached out to lay across both your hips as he kissed the back of your head.

“I love you to, sweetheart.”

Assuming you had fallen asleep, they laid silently thinking about everything that had transpired. They had tried so many times before to stay in this realm but everything they did failed. As soon as the task was completed, no matter where they were or what they did they were put back into their area until the stone summoned them again.

The worst part about going back was the silence which was ironically deafening. Coming from a loud world full of energy to nothing but them was its own kind of torture. There were so many times they considered running to Oblivion thinking it couldn’t be much worse. When they were alone, like you had mentioned, Eddie did constantly blame himself. Even though he didn’t kill Chrissy, he had still been on the run and it was Steve’s job to find him. If he had stayed where he was and took the punishment at least his friend would still be in their realm and happy.

What he didn’t know was that Steve wouldn’t have been happy. The princess was his friend to and if he had gotten taken in Steve would have no one he felt close to. Once again, he would be alone to fight endless battles day in and day out until really did become like his father. Running with Eddie was a no brainer for him but what he hated was that they had to run at all. He couldn’t convince the king to hear his friend out and just like Eddie felt that he failed to protect them both. He couldn’t even convince the other solider not to kill him, having to murder him so they could get away.

Steve desperately wanted them to have a new home but every place they settled into they ended up running again, hiding in a new realm to start over. When they found that stone and spoke to the woman that put them there, he begged her to take him instead of them both but she refused.

One night, Eddie watched as his once strong friend broke screaming and breakdown as he broke things in their makeshift house. That was the night he kissed him, passionately pushing him against the wall and giving Steve everything he had.

“I’m sorry, Edward. I keep failing you.”, he cried as he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Eddie sighed, trying to keep his own emotions in check as he lightly tugged on Steve’s hair, forcing him to look up at him.

“Listen to me. You didn’t fail me, okay? If anything, this is my fault. No. Don’t talk.”, he shooshed the demon as he began to open his mouth to fight back. “At least here we’re safe and I know no one is going to take you away from me. It’s just us now.”

“I love you to.”, you mumble causing their heads to snap in your direction. Their hopeful eyes glance at each other as they pull you in closer, clinging to you and the moment.

#############

“I still think you should kill Carol.” You smirk to yourself at Eddie’s comment as you continue to fold the inventory in front of you at work.

“Or Dick, your boss. Just a lovely man that one.”, Steve follows grinning at you from his spot on the counter.

Off to the side you notice a tall, blond-haired gentleman glancing at things against the wall as if they were amusing. Disconnecting from your pestering defenders, you head towards the man and flash him your best customer service smile.

“Do you think if I steal these rings, the stone will let me keep them?”, the demon inquires to his friend as they wait for you to come back.

“Something’s wrong.” Eddie’s head turns to look at Steve who is now fully alert. “Something’s wrong. Something’s off.”

“What is?”

“Someone doesn’t belong here.”

“Can I help you find something, sir?”

When his piercing blue eyes meet yours, it takes your breath away as he grins back.

“What are these things for?”, he picks up a hat and places it on his head. “Are they just for style or do they serve a purpose?”

“A little bit of both, I think. It doesn’t hurt to look good while doing your day to day.”

The man’s head tilts as he chuckles, placing it back on the rack in front of him. “I swear, humans are so creative especially when they are trying to hide how miserable they actually are under falsities like a new hat.”

Your eyes widen at the word “human” as you slowly back away.

His grin grows as he extends his hand for you to shake. “Where are my manners? I’m Henry.”

You know that name. Where do you know that name?

Strong hands tug you back as both your demons place themselves protectively in front of you.

“How did you get here, Henry?”

The demon cackled as he leaned against the wall behind him.

“You weren’t the only one who knew how to hop realms, Steven. Truth be told I’ve been doing it for a while. I got myself a gig of my own that just so happened to lead me here.”

“Hm. Prince like you doesn’t have anything better to do?”

“Not after my princess was murdered.”

Eddie didn’t even try to hide his anger as his eyes glowed and he stepped forward before being stopped by his friend.

“Y/N?” You quickly turned your head, meeting your co workers concerned gaze. “Are you alright? You look…scared.”

The observation made Henry smile wider.

“Um, no. I’m alright…just not feeling well. I’ll be ok. Thank you.”

She hesitates for a moment before nodding and heading back to her section.

“Let’s go somewhere we can all talk without being interrupted.” The evil demon snapped his fingers as the four of you disappeared.

########

@tlclick73 @iaminlovewithdilfs @tiannamortis @steeldaisies

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@strangerthings64 @howlingco @hellfire--cult @unfocused81

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railingsofsorrow · 1 year

Note

hi maybe do a klaus mikaelson x daughter!reader angst. reader and hope are the same age older pls!! maybe that reader! and hope get into a fight physically and use their powers against each other and maybe the reader or hope gets hurt. and we get blamed at and screaming and maybe daggered by our father. by our cruel actions against each-other . but our uncles and aunts prevent it from happening. ^idk im bad at storyline plot XD. reader daughter is a witch you decide :p

Always and Forever

A/N: hope is a bit of a dick in the beginning, just a heads up.

A/N²: thank you for this request I loved writing it! sorry for taking so long to post it, university is burying me alive.

summary: you and hope have a quarrel. there's spilled blood and a few apologies.

pairing: none.

w.c: 3K

warnings/content: mentions of a major character death; lucien castle (I fucking hate him so it's a warning); mention of minor characters death; siblings arguments; description of violence; blood; injuries; gore; lots of angst; happy ending.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

.ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙

“I am so done with you, Hope.”

The storm your feet were causing against the wood of the compound reached your family's sensitive ears quickly.

“Oh, you're done with me?” Your sister followed your harsh steps, earning a glare from you that you didn't need to look back at her for her to see it. “Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Like how stupid I am for making a decision? Isn't that what you always say anyway?”

“And you still don't listen!”

Rebekah was the first one to protest from the living room where a bunch of compelled men were being ordered around to redecorate the place.

“Girls, pitch it down. I'm trying to do some redecorating here,” her unhelpful jab was promptly ignored as you yanked the door open, the sound echoing through the room. “Hey!” Rebekah stared at your angry breeze in indignation. “Do not ignore me—”

“Come back. We're not done talking.”

Then, just as you were in the middle of the street, you went back inside the compound. Or rather, pulled back by an invisible force.

Did Hope just used her magic on you? Did she just—

“Say it. Say what you think. What you have always thought about me. Go ahead.”

“Hope.” Warned Elijah.

Your eyes narrowed into slits as your fists clenched, “Do not manhandle me with your stupid magic, Hope—”

“What on Earth is going on here?” Kol peaked below from the bannister. He could hear the screaming from ten miles away and he was trying to take a nap for goodness sake. “I thought we didn't have children in this family anymore? You know,” he starts to descend the stairs slowly. “It was the best day of my entire life when you both quit the shrieking phase—”

“Then don't turn your back on me when I'm speaking.” Hope said, completely ignoring Kol's irrelevant input in your argument.

“You sound just like Dad. Maybe that's why you bond so well. The reckless and the paranoid.”

Hope scoffed.

“Is that jealousy I hear? What, the second child couldn't accept the scrapes of left-over love?”

Finn arrived in the living room just as your whole demeanor switched from angry to numb in less than a second. The workers had vanished, Rebekah's doing because she read the situation previous to the outburst.

And she did not want an outburst. Less alone from you, a witch-in-learning since your powers had gotten out of hand due to the Mikaelson's last inconvenience — Lucian Castle.

He had done a number on you. The magic that used to run free and controlled through your fingers now felt like electric currents burning inside your veins. Not in a good way. Long story short, your abilities were in time-out. Until your emotions take over and you lose control.

Which was what was happening in that moment.

“Hope,” Rebekah walked towards your pair carefully as Kol and Finn watched from afar. “That's enough. Why don't you take a walk—”

“Why do you never stay on my side?” Hope snapped at her aunt, finally breaking your stare.

Rebekah let out a sigh, “I'm not taking any sides here. You both have got to take a minute and discuss this later.”

You could feel the slight twitch on the tip of your fingers.

“Do you remember how many people I've lost because of her, Aunt Beks?” You asked, the corner of your lips raising. Hope gave you a roll of eyes. “Some by choice, because I chose her above anyone else. Blood is thicker than water, right? Then, some because they were collateral damage. Why? Because the fucking world revolves around Hope Mikaelson?”

Hope's expression morphs into annoyance, “It was not my fault they died!”

“Of course, not. Who would've thought there would be consequences for your actions, Hope?”

“You're unbeleavible. You told me it wasn't my fault. You!”

“Well, I lied!” You marveled, taking a step foward as anger seeped within your body. “I lied when I said that it wasn't your fault. I lied when I covered for you all of those times. In fact, I lied when I said I'd always be on your side. I'm so done with your selfishness, Hope. Because although you're my sister, you've hurt me more than any other being has hurt me!”

A warm hand attempt to tug you a few steps back. You barely acknowledge it.

“I never asked you to do anything, you've made your own choices. Don't come blame me for it. If the people you care about were hurt, that's on you. Not me.”

“Enough.”

Your father's voice caused the both of you to freeze in your spot. Hope shoulders sagged as she let out a huff.

“She started it. I'm just telling the truth.”

“Shut up, Hope,” you exclaimed in exasperation. Your patience wearing thin. Everyone could feel your powers praying to be unleashed.

“I said enough!” Klaus's tone might have been final but your argument was far from the end.

Elijah said your name when he noticed the your eyes darkening lightly.

“You know what?” Hope took a few steps towards you. She, too, could feel your magic and a little sly smile grew in the corner of her lips. “If it weren't for you, mom might still be here,” even though she whispered, every vampire heard the affirmation and tensed.

They should've acted sooner. But now it had gone too far.

Just as she had moved you like a marionette previously, you raised your hand and threw her body next to the closest wall. The force created a ruptured in the outline of your sister, who let out a groan.

Your name was called in warning. You couldn't hear if it was your Dad or one of your uncles. You knew it wasn't Rebekah because she was already helping her dear niece out of the mess you made.

Too late.

“Say it again.”

Before she could use her own magic, you used your vampire speed to push Rebekah away and grab your older sister by the neck.

“Go on, Hope,” you shoved her in the adjacent wall. Why did no one was trying to stop you? Well. They were busy being held thrown in different areas of the house by your out-of-control stupor. “Tell me how I'm to blame for her death. Tell me how I have scrapes of our family's love. You got it all first, didn't you? I arrived to take it away? Is that what you thought? Is that what I am? A leftover?”

Hope's groans of pain didn't phaze your unstoppable strength, nor did her beaten-up face or her bleeding nose. You smirked upon seeing the glint of annoyance in her bright blue eyes. The color shifting towards yellow slightly. You were practically taunting her wolf.

“A leftover daughter, right, Dad?” the jab directed at your father wasn't unnoticed. “I'm sure he'd agree with you on that, sis.”

“Bitch.” Hope let out a sneer and kicked you on the stomach.

“For fuck's sake!” Kol used his vampire speed to push Hope out of your reach as Finn grabbed you by the shoulders. “That's enough. Both of you, stop.”

Ripping out a piece of a chair, you grabbed the pointed wood and stuck in his heart. His shocked expression didn't brought guilt to your chest, not when anger was still the bigger emotion gripping you wholly. You created an invisible barrier to keep anyone but Hope away. And when your sister is about to sink her hybrid teeth into your arm, you lift her from the ground with your powers.

You drowned out all the protests and focused on squeezing her neck with your mind.

“I'm so sick of you.” She struggled to breath. “I'm sick of being left out. I'm sick of being on the receiving end of your problems. I wish you weren't my sister!”

It was all too fast. Hope's body was released and she fell to the floor like a ragdoll. You walked slowly towards her. She wasn't completely weak, just recovering from being cut out of breath for a few minutes. At any moment, she could surprise you with the little souvenir of a deadly warewolf bite, one you didn't have the cure of because your warewolf gene was never activated.

You weren't scared of her. No. You didn't feel anything. Just frustration. All anger anger anger anger.

As your hand sinked into her chest and she screamed out in agony, satisfaction slipped through your fingers. Your sister's blood in your hands may have been the prettiest art you had seen till today.

Then, a gasp echoed throughout the room.

You blinked in surprise as you felt a cold, thin metal etched into your back. The stinging of the blade made you let go of your sister's heart and stumble back. Your vision blurring slightly.

“Shh, shh, it's okay,” your dad's arms were the ones you fell into as you moaned in pain. “You'll be fine.”

“What are you doing?!” Rebekah exclaimed. “Pull the dagger out, Nik. Now!”

“This is your daughter, Niklaus!” Finn took her side as he helped Kol to his feet. He had been the one to take out the stake out of his chest.

Hope stared at your unconscious body as her own healed. It was turning gray little by little, the blood from her chest painted in both of your hands. The lifeless expression should've brought her relief. It did for a glimpse of second. Then the guilt arrived like a bucket of cold water.

She didn't particularly like you at that moment. She wanted you dead, quiet, unmoving. But the images of your daggered family through decades flashed in her mind. Their unfamiliarity with reality. Their numbness with life all together.

Hope didn't want that for you. You were her sister. Even if you tried to kill each other occasionally, even if she hates you some times.

It was her fault.

“Dad,” she croaked out, “Dad, pull it out,” her tone had an edge of desperation, the situation sinking in.

Has it gotten that bad that their father thought this would be the only solution? “Dad.”

“We have to find a way to control her.” He said calmly, caressing a few strands out of your bloodied face.

“You're not protecting her like this, Niklaus. You know this isn't what this is.” Elijah attempted to step closer. “We can handle the matter,”

“Don't say that.” Kol gazed up at him with bitterness. “Don't call my niece a matter because you can't admit the truth.” He didn't care that you had just literally stabbed him through his chest. You weren't aware of your surroundings, of what you were doing. He knew how that feels like. Not being in control was an all-too-familiar place he had been before. “We can help her without inflicting pain. She's struggling. She was tortured, Nik. The girl is traumatized. Do you think it will help if you keep her away for— what, how long this time? Three, seven years? She's your daughter. Snap out of it.”

“She'll regret you for the rest of her life if you do this.” Rebekah let out. Everyone turned to her. “I almost did.”

Klaus's eyes flickered to your peaceful demeanor for a moment, hand pressed against your cheek softly. He looked up at Hope, her desperate matching blue irises silently begging him.

A leftover daughter, right, Dad? Had he made you feel like that? He couldn't tell. Ever since Hayley died, he crawled into a wheel of uncertainty. He was buried underneath the earth of mistakes and enemies he had acquired. His own mind being the mastermind of it all.

One thing he was sure, the two of you were always and would always be equal in his heart. He'd have to make sure that you understood that. The last thing he could do as he lived was fail you.

Hayley would be so disappointed.

Just like Kol requested him to, he snapped out of it. The fear of facing your uncontrolled abilities materialised in the image of numbness in your eyes. He couldn't lose you. And he wouldn't. But his brother was right, inserting a dagger in your heart wouldn't make the situation better.

He had to learn from his mistakes at some point.

Your gasp as you returned to reality sent guilt right into his chest. Hope cradled your body in an embrace, mumbling I'm sorry's repeatedly. Everybody watched in expectation of your reaction. The furrow in your eyebrows as you studied your surroundings were a small indication that you were coming back.

Blinking slowly, you looked down at your sister with widened eyes, “Did I hurt you?” the question slipped as you noticed the blood in her clothes and the hole in her blouse.

Hope's tear-stricken expression switched to an amused one, “What do you think?” then, she started crying again. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say those things, I—”

The pang in your head made you wince slightly. The memories coming back.

You squeezed her arm, shaking your head, “It's fine. I don't know why I lost it. I'm sorry.” a frown etched into your forehead. “I didn't mean it, Hope.”

Meeting your eyes, she knew what you were talking about, “No, I am. I shouldn't have pushed you. You were right. I'm reckless and irresponsible and paranoid and I never put your first. I'm sorry. I love you, I'll try, okay? I never meant to hurt you.”

You sighed, a sad smile pulling at your lips, “Yeah, okay. I love you too.”

She hugged you again and a grimace twitched your face, “Uh, you've got blood all over you, can you...”

“And whose fault is that? That was my favourite blouse!”

“That was not your favourite blouse. Your favourite is a red one with a sweetheart neckline—”

“And they're back.” Kol rolled his eyes fondly, leaving to go back to his room. He needed to get you form his bloody clothes, thanks to you.

“Should we stay?” Finn queried Elijah, watching you bicker over a blouse. Elijah smiled faintly.

“No. It's all dealt with.” His eyes caught his half brother's across the room before he and Finn left. Get rid of the dagger or I'll get rid of you. He knew Klaus could read his mind — not literally — as no one else were able to do. He hoped he would at least listen to this advice.

Or else.

“Did you dagger me?”

He blinked caught of guard by your sudden appearance in front of him. Face emotionless.

Hope and Rebekah had left as well. Probably understanding that you need to talk privately.

“I did.” He said, eyes softening. “Sweetheart, I—” he was cut off by your arms wrapping around him in an awkward movement.

You weren't the closest pair of father and daughter out there. You've had your disagreements, there was a lot in which the both of you were different. Hayley was the one that you clinged to. Ever since you were a child. He knew you missed her warmth, her words, her. One could never move on fully after losing a mother. It's heart-wrecking. If he had any say on it, he would've never let Hayley go. He'd surrender in a heartbeat.

“Thanks for bringing me back, Dad.”

Klaus let out a shaky breath, caressing the back of your neck. And still, with Hayley gone, there was so much of you that brought her back constantly. Your eyes. Your compassion, mostly. “Do not thank me. I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong. Once again I have let myself be taken my selfish reasons. Sweetheart,” he cupped your cheeks, and you looked up at him. “I'm sorry.” That was the sentence Klaus found more difficult in saying out loud. This turned on his back quickly when you and Hope were born. It wasn't a matter of ego, anymore. It was about not hurting you the way he had been hurt by the people that gave him life. He'd rather die than disapoint his daughters. “If you need time away, I understand. That was wrong—”

“Will you let me speak or I'm supposed to stay quiet the whole time?”

Klaus snapped his mouth shut.

You smiled, “Alright. Yes, that was wrong and selfish. But so was I. I was out of me, Dad. Honestly, I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't done that. Hope, she— I can't even think—”

“Don't think. Nothing bad happened.”

“It might have!” You cried out. “I'm not okay. I don't know how to be okay. And I don't want to hurt anyone else in this process. What if the next time I snap it's you? Or uncle Elijah? Or anyone else?”

Klaus pressed a kiss against your forehead and brought you closer again, your shoulders slumped as you let you a sob. “I'm scared, Dad.”

“I know, I know.” He whispered, tightening his hold on you so you would calm down. “We'll get you help. You've been hurt, sweetheart. It's not going to be easy, it never is. But you'll get better. We'll be there.” He paused. “But first and foremost, don't ever think you are not loved by me. Or any of us. Is that clear? You come first. You always have and you always will. You and Hope.”

Hayley would've worded it out better.

You nodded weekly, averting his eyes.

“I'm going to make sure you don't feel like that anymore, alright?” He tipped your chin so you would meet his eyes. “You're not alone, honey,” the sniffles slipped from you against your will and soon the tears arrived. He dried one by one to then cradle your head against his chest.

Letting out a shaky breath, you buried your face deep into his shoulder. You were tired, but your family could give you strength. Even your mother — especially your mother — who might not be present but she was still there. You could feel it.

Your father smiled down at your bloodshot features, bopping your nose which made you crack a laugh. “Always and forever,” he whispered.

A promise.

“Always and forever,” you mumbled back, smiling in response.

#reader insert #the originals fanfiction #the originals fic #requested #mikaelsons x reader #the originals imagine

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ofnightshadeandthornyroses · 13 days

Text

Don't Hide Pt 2

Paul x reader

"Look I just really don't know what to do with that, and what he said made it sound like he's a local or at least frequents the place." You sip your drink before flopping down on the bed, still clutching the phone and listening to you sister and her endless knowledge of the dating scene. "With what you said it sounds like he was interested in you. All those girls but still he stopped at you." A pause. "I mean he did say he hadn't seen you around so there's always that 'new shiny toy' factor, but!!" Your mind was racing. New shiny toy? I hadn't even thought about that! I was just to panicked that I actually flirted with someone somewhat successfully and they initiated it! "You could've caught his attention, you said he was pretty cute right?" Sounds of chips crunching on the other end interrupted your response of 'yeah' "So if you see him again, and if you want to, try and flirt with him again. See if he's interested. Anything else happen that wasn't on the carousel?" More crunching. Your finger was now curling and uncurling in the cord as you remember something at the end. "I guess? Maybe? After I left I looked back and he was with his friends but he was already looking at me but I might have done something before that, it's a little embarrassing..." "Go on!" The pleading demand coming out muffled through a mouth that was undoubtedly full of chips. "Before I told him not to hide, I kinda took his lollipop out of his mouth and after I sorta put it in mine in front of him?" The end of your retelling came out sounding more like a question and you could the sound of your sister inhaling and promptly choking on her chips. You didn't mean to kill her really. You grimace, "Sorry-" "Sorry? Why didn't you tell me this! Oh, you bold fucker! You definitely had to have hooked him a bit! If he doesn't come up to you he's fucking numb or shy from what you did. Please God or whomever the fuck let my sibling finally get someone or some action at least." "Oh my frog-" "No child you listen–" "I'm older tha-" "-you need to try to make a small a miniscule effort to talk to this guy. I'm talking at least eye contact, a smile, a wave, head tilt, whatever! Just something. Even a sign to him. You do this and it's a mile stone. You do this and you could do it again and build up to something more. Remember it's the anticipation of what hasn't happened that's scary." "So I do this and I can do anything? That's mighty cheesy" "I didn't say that. But you could build up to more. It certainly gets a little easier once you've done it. It was hard for me at first as well, but I had the advantage of semi-popularity and friends that would cheer me on and and we could laugh about it later. I know it's a little harder for you but remember you got yourself a personal cheerleader a phone call away." Laying on your side playing with the cord, a fond smile grew on your face. "Thanks sis, I really appreciate this. I probably would've been spiraling out of my head without you by now." "That's what I'm here for! I've got to go, but hey! You get ready and go out! FIND THAT MAN! Give a little smile and a wave, maybe a wink~." "Ughaagh!" "I love you, bye!" "Bye, love you." You put the phone back up and laid there for minute just looking at the wall not really seeing it, not even thinking. Then, your brain decided to start working on double time. If I do this would it actually go well? Would it go bad? He stayed looking yesterday. What does that even mean? Did you make a big mistake even looking at him? Did you do the stupidest thing in history by taking his candy? AND PUTTING IT IN YOUR MOUTH!? OH YOU DUMB FROGGER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! Maybe you should try? Maybe not, "no" or go "away" is NOT the worst he could say. Okay could it be that bad? He probably forgot about you, okay?

But the prospect of maybe having a someone made your heart feel like a ton of moths decided that it was their new home. You had always seen those couples on campus, one leaning on cars or walls wile the other leaned over them, making the other flustered or both laughing. Just thinking about maybe having a chance at that, having someone to fluster you or the other way around. Holding someone's hands because you could, holding them because you could, holding their face because–well.

This gave you a sense of anxious determination. With a hint of spite. You could never have something like that before, even when you tried. People were cruel, they hurt you, bones and shiny things couldn't hurt you. Maybe you would go, and maybe you would, if you saw him, smile and wave. This wasn't the campus or highschool, hell it's definitely not home. If you need to ignore him, you could. Why not? —•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— So, you're here, and have been for about an hour before the sun finally started going down. This wouldn't be an issue at all except you've had an eye out for that pretty hurricane of blonde hair from the night before, and the anticipation of seeing them again slowly frying your nerves.

You stroll along some small stores, the chains on your boots and hip clinking as you walk. Eyes catching a shop advertising they sell 'Assortments for the damned', immediately interested you walk closer and open the glass door covered with a thick curtain.

Immediately you can see small weapons, jewelry, and crystals on a display case. Walking around there's discovered to be books on witchcraft, Satanism, the supernatural, apothecary, rituals, and beginners manuals. In the back left corner there's a display of sex toys and lingerie which is out numbered by the amount of fetish wear and toys for those obviously into more hard-core stuff that's right by it. There a section of actually weapons; swords, axes, hatchets, maces, flails, etc. Many intricately made or decorated with stones. Along side it was gardening supplies along with gas masks. Sections of fabric took up half a wall along with dried plants, pastes, and animal parts.

It felt like a play ground honestly. Maybe you would need to work on more crafts to sell, because you just might end up broke before you have to go back. But was it really your fault? You hadn't seen most of this stuff anywhere else and it was like putting live prey with a starving animal and asking it to wait a while more– cruel, tempting, and plain fucking stupid.

By the time you made it up to the front desk someone came stumbling out from behind a beaded curtain behind it. "Oh- Hi! Sorry it took a bit. Looking for anything in particular? Find anything you like?" Their short curly hair looked as if it's been through a storm and silver bangles clink on their hands. You find a name tag on their long apron which reads 'Andy–they/them'.

"I practically love everything here, I just might go broke if I can't find clients." They chuckle and push their glasses up their nose looking thoughtful. "Well it's great to hear you're enjoying the shop and as well as the clientele part, depending on what you sell we might be able to help with that. My boss tends to house and sell many locals wears for them here, only taking a small amount, on agreement of course, for the pay of the worker who helped sell it. I can give you a card if you'd like?"

You were struck dumb for a second almost refusing to believe your luck. This store, this store, could possibly house your crafts and you might actually be able to one–extend your stay and continue to hide from your parents and two–by something shiny when you wanted. You were baffled not stupid, also you were quiet and they were still looking at you. "Um, yes, oh frog. I definitely would like one, thank you!" Were you getting to loud, maybe a tad, but they giggled and put their finger up as they crouched down behind the counter.

"Give me just a moment. We don't keep my boss's cards up top for the taking so they tend to get pushed around." You left them to it and looked around the front counter, smaller concelable weapons made to look like other objects and just straight up decorated to look as pretty as they are painful make up a good amount of the displays. Andy popped back up holding a card like it was a prize ribbon as you were checking out what looked to be modified brass nuckles with jagged ends in shapes of animals, one even a Christmas tree.

"Here's her card, it has her number and mailing address, but please do call to set something up first. Oh, do you like those? We just got a new shipment in this morning! If you give me just a minute I can go get them right now!" They scurried through the curtain and back in less than a minute and set a medium box on the counter. After taking out a box cutter, they opened it and started taking out thin foam layers separating the metal peices and laying them out.

"Now these ones are our self defense keychains, they have holes for you to slip your fingers in similar to regular brass knuckles but with a nice sharp, cute twist." You scanned over the items feeling like a little kid all over again. Honestly, you didn't know what to do when she disappeared behind the curtain in search of the shipment, so in a mixed state of confusion and curious, you stated put. Oh are you glad you did. There were so many, moths, presents, birds, cats, hats. One that really caught your eye was the teeth. That not even the right word, right one would be fangs. The finger holes were in the gums and part of the other teeth in between the the sharpened teeth. There were blood marks on them as well, leading to believe what ever they're supposed to belong to fed on something with fresh blood. You had to have it. "Oh now this is extremely beautiful!" You said holding it up. "It is, and it definitely fits your little bat necklace. It's cute." The bat necklace in reference was the one from the night before. "We have other hidden weapons here too if you like to see." A very quick nod. "We have these necklaces over here that look like little hearts with daggers in them, which," Andy takes hold of one and pulls the blade out."They are. Then for wrists we have bands with daggers in intricate sheaths. They could look like decorations until you actual pull them out." Shiny, sharp, and pretty! Your mind was probably breaking a sound barrier somewhere with how high pitched that came out in your own In the end you walked out with the fang keychain, a pair of arm bands, AND the necklace. Gosh you're asucker for shiny and sharp. You can't even blame Andy for your lack of self control, they were a great help and, really, were just doing their job. You fidget with the card in your hand a bit before finaly putting it in your bag. Passing by a food stand you see a container of bright candy in clear wrapping, lollipops, your brains supplies oh not so very helpfully. Did you decide you were gonna try? Yes, yes you did. Does that mean you're actually going to try and think about him the whole time when he already keeps constantly popping up and you have to constantly keep replaying the stunt you pulled. No, no you're not. And does this mean that because he keeps popping up in your head and making you feel more anxious and stupid by the second that in the end you might end up making a fool, tucking tail, and hauling ass? Uhhh- You were staring. The attendant was speaking. You hadn't even revised you had stopped. "I-I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" "I said," she looks exasperated already "Are you wanting one?" She had a pulled smile, the one you give customers when you want to add something else but you shouldn't. Just by her tone and expression you felt like you could hear the unsaid, "Or are you just going to block up the counter?" Feeling a bit embarrassed now you went went to say"No, sorry" but what came out was "Um, sorry, yes m-ma'am, cherry please. Thank you." This happened most times you were caught off guard, starring at something on a stand or store because you're either just in you're own mind or a memory. The embarrassment catches and usually ends with you buying whatever it was or doing a weird scurry of shame away.

Cherry wasn't even your favorite. Usually not even your top three choices, but you knew why you picked it. After your feet finally started moving again your brain, what was left of the flaming hot mush it had become, registered the flavor of the candy as cherry. It made sense really. You remember going over the memories before having the time to be properly mortified and remembering the way the sticky red residue you could see on his lips when you looked, shiny, pretty.

His teeth had a red sheen to it from the candy, even a little dribble of red dyed saliva could be seen at the corner of his mouth. Pretty. Shiny. He looked good with red. Reminds you of a glam rocker too. Oh frog.

You open the candy, plop it in then lean against a wall a couple feet into an alley to hopefully have a mental freak out in peace and not look like a total freak in public from going so far into your head. Glam rockers are shiny, and he's hot, and this is not helping. Seriously the intrusive thought of him in shiny red eyeshadow, hair all blown out, in shiny outfits with cut out and/or mesh, had you on your knees.

Like, actually, in the alley crouched down, head in your crossed arms, unable to stop the thoughts of a man who already had dressed like a hot punk, like a hot glam rocker, and now the thoughts are transforming saying 'hey you know, he'd look fucking hot if he was in a metal band'. The thought has you sinking lower on the ground, butt now firmly planted with your knees up so you can still successfully fold your arms on told and mock bury yourself a thoughts of glitter and tight outfits are joined by tight shiny leather, belts, spikes, and chains. The blown out hair stayed.

You stayed there for a while, tasting cherry and thinking, not relising that the very last light of sunset had finally passed, tuning out the foot traffic of the boardwalk, ignoring the way your butt and become numb and how your body tugged.

You tuned out this as well as the melodic sound of chains, boots, and rubbing leather. You didn't hear someone come into the alley or when they first said 'hey, sugar'.

Your brain only slightly registered the sound of chains hitting the ground. It completely registered the touch to your knee that your fairy skirt had had left bare, shocking your head up and into the chin of the unknown man who stumbled back from his crouch and landed on his rear.

You both groan, as you hold the top of your head and him his chin. "Damn sugar, didn't mean to scare you like that."

You look up finally noticing that this man isn't unknown at all, it's the man from before. Blown out blonde hair and blue eyes that were subjects of fantasies just moments before were in front of you, looking at you. You look down, not now, why now? "I'm sorry I didn't mean to hit you, didn't scare just, startled."

Trying to look everywhere but his face wasn't working. Today he was in his jacket from before and a band shirt, cut off and cut up, the jagged 'M' and 'A' being the only tell it used to say Matellica. The mesh shirt underneath it was pull tight by his position he was still in, legs spread and bent in criminally tight ripped jeans with chains and a fucking bondage belt.

Seriously why me, why you, why now!? He's holding himself up with one hand behind him and the other rubbing at his chin though seeming distracted –and what is that look? Oh frog I've been staring-ogling! He saw that! Saw me! Of course he saw you you're faces are maybe three feet away maximum. But does that mean he was looking at me? Well you just hit his chin dingus. But why is he here? Um, He lives here? Maybe? I don't know? But why is he here, with me.

"Hey sweetness, you alive?" You were staring, still. And he had that lazy smug grin on his face. Oh FROG. "Yeah, I'm alive." You say with absolute genius. Though in your defense you were also using about 90% of your brain power to be alive.

Flirting, interaction, crushes in general were never your strong suit. You always get flustered so easily, by the moment or your own thoughts. And being flustered leads to being embarrassed which leads to you fleeing or just silently standing there, awkwardly.

"Well that's great news sweetheart, hadn't been able to tell until you spoke up, those cute eyes of your staring my way. Would've thought you were a statue." He grins that grin and starts pushing himself more up.

What he says hits uou "sweetheart" "cute" "staring". You were staring. Oh f r o g. That feeling hits again, the one of embarrassment, your cheeks burning. "Im sorry, very sorry for your chin and staring." You start to turn the corner. Fleeing. You were fleeing.

Or was until you felt a hand tugged in your sleeve. You turn back and the he is with big blue eyes pand a slight confused look"No need to be sorry babe, where you going?" You look up at him "Away?" Not quite sure what's happening yourself. He pulls your sleeve, as well as you closer. "Well why that? Why don't we walk around see where to night takes us?" You didn't want to, not because of him, but you. Being by him made you anxious, his pretty face made you fidget nervously.

What if I mess it up, and he thinks I'm weird or disgusting? What if something goes wrong, there's so many people here? What if it goes great? Where do I go from there? Your sister voice filter through you brain. You won't know unless you try, something she's always saying, take a chance make a risk. If you never want to see him again you won't have to, live a little.

You get yourself together and look up at his waiting expression, "Yeah, I'd like too"

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#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #fanfiction #fanfic #fiction #paul the lost boys #paul x reader #the lost boys x you #The reader is a mess #So am I #It fits #I need some blueberry tea so bad

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urfavstargirl1 · 1 year

Text

don't dream it's over

Part 6 to the series Chemistry, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5-- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

stranger things masterlist | Spotify playlist

summary: thanks to Eddie Munson, Y/N faces the consequences of breaking her parents number one rule: no boys allowed. After a month of no fun, no friends, and no boyfriends, Y/N makes a harrowing realization about just how much she misses the "freak" of Hawkins High

cw: angst, fluff, anxiety, hurt/comfort, shy/nerdy!reader, pre-ST4, cocky!Eddie, swearing, strict parents,

a/n: this chapter was a long time coming so I thank you all so much for waiting patiently. I also meant to end the story at the 6th chapter but my last chapter did mitosis again and this isn't the end (just yet), but for now enjoy this extra long chapter

“Eddie,” Y/N cries out in despair.

“It’s ok sweetheart. I’m right here.” Eddie replies.

He tightens his arm locked around her waist and pulls her body closer to his. He breathes in the scent of her hair. Feels the warmth of her body pressed against his as they lay in his bed.

“I-I need you,” she calls out to him, too afraid to turn over and look him in the eyes.

“It’s ok, I need you too.”

“But I can’t. I-I’ve never needed someone like this before…”

***

When Y/N woke, there was a brief moment of reprieve.

Her swollen eyes struggled to widen amidst the soft sunlight peeking through her blinds. She breathed deeply, barely on the brink of consciousness to relish the last waking moment she would have before remembering the horrors of the past twelve hours.

Soon enough, the look on her mom’s face and the tone of her dad’s voice came flooding back to her. The memories loom accompanied by an intense pounding in her head.

She’s reminded of the tears she had cried throughout the night, but now, there’s only silence.

Numbness overcomes her, and for the rest of the day, Y/N simply floats by, barely interacting with the world around her.

At breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she looks down at her plate and only opens her mouth to take a few bites of whatever is in front of her.

In the calm clear morning air, her parents reinstate her month long punishment with the new addition of having her phone privileges taken away too.

Y/N knows from her sister’s many moments of being grounded that the punishment usually entails promptly coming home from school, with the exception of extracurricular activities, and only leaving the house for family outings. But for the first time, it’s Y/N’s turn to be on house arrest. Forbidden from seeing Eddie and any of her friends.

And if it wasn’t drilled into her head before, the whole, “no fun, no friends, and no boyfriends” thing was permanently embedded in her skull. That and the idea that those are all worthless distractions from the only thing that does matter: doing well in school.

Y/N almost wants to complain. A thread of anger in her shouts that this is all unfair, but a bigger, much louder part of her knows the harsh reality: life isn’t fair. And this is exactly what would happen by doing something as stupid as falling in love in a house that forbids it.

Now, she’ll have to pay the price for her idiotic actions and make sure nothing like this happens again.

Even when she hears a faint tapping on her window later that night, only to discover Eddie climbing up the roof of her house.

Y/N starts hyperventilating and feeling the blood in her veins scream.

“Eddie, what are you doing,” she whisper yells, from the window cracked slightly ajar.

Eddie, with his tongue slightly poking out of his full lips, lost in focus from trying not to fall and quietly make his way to her window, doesn’t hear her.

As he climbs Rapunzel’s tower, a small part of Y/N can’t help but feel her heart soar. On this cool autumn night, here Eddie is, climbing the edge of her parents house in his signature leather jacket he fills out so well and chunky ring clad fingers clutching the railing.

As Eddie nears her windowsill, Y/N stands in front of it like a guard, blocking his attempted entrance.

“Hey sweetheart,” he reaches forward and caresses her cheek with one calloused hand while the other holds him upright, balancing carefully on the rooftop. “You didn’t call. I was starting to get worried.”

“Eddie, you can’t be here right now,” Y/N frantically states before looking over her shoulder. “My parents could hear you. I could get in trouble for this.” “I know,” He sighs, “But I wanted to see you.”

Eddie smiles at her, not in that million dollar gleam way he always does that she loves so much, but in that bashful heart warming way that makes her stomach do a whole gymnastics routine.

Y/N shakes her head and firmly states, “I don’t care. You need to go home Eddie.”

Eddie frowns, partially at her words and also at the sudden realization that her cheeks have been stained with what were presumably tears.

“Eddie, please.” Y/N shoos him away. The pleading sense of urgency is audible in her voice.

Eddie takes a beat, realizing the events are not unfolding like he imagined they would have.

He knew it might take some convincing. Nothing with Y/N has been easy, but he thought throwing rocks at a girl’s window always worked, at least in the movies it does.

But the frazzled look on her face and the shaky look in her eyes right now say otherwise.

“Eddie, please, I’m serious. You need to go home, right now.”

She looks like she could be on the verge of tears and that alone is enough to make Eddie stop. His heart absolutely broke at the sound of her cries over the phone last night. It would practically kill him to be the one bringing tears to her mesmerizing eyes.

“Ok,” he replies reluctantly before slowly making his descent down the side of the house.

When his muddy Reebok sneakers hit the pavement, he’s left disoriented. Not that the climb had any effect on him, but Y/N’s mood was just so off putting.

He knew she would at least be bummed. He imagined her parents would get mad and maybe even ground her and that’d be enough to have her properly pissed off, but he didn’t expect her to be so… perturbed.

Maybe it should come as no surprise, given how anxious she was before she got home last night. And you’d think after all the things Eddie’s cynical eyes have seen, he would know better than to have hope, but something in him can’t help himself. For once, he wanted his expectation to meet his reality no matter how much he wished he didn’t.

For Y/N, all sense of hope disintegrated the night before. It feels like nothing even matters. Once in a tug of war between her parents wishes and her own, the rope got yanked out of her hands making her fall in the mud.

She couldn’t run away. She couldn’t fight it. All she could do was freeze. Freeze and retreat into a hole of safety and familiarity which was obeying her parents and keeping any hope of something with Eddie tucked away at the back of her bleeding heart.

***

The silence continued the next day at school, where a cloud of doom loomed over her incessantly. Y/N breezed by, narrowly escaping the minimum amount of effort required of her classes and demands of friends or teachers.

Until chemistry class.

As soon as she walked in, Eddie, who normally arrives as the bell rings, was already there waiting for her. He rushed over to her and engulfed her in a warm hug.

“Sweetheart, what happened? Are you okay?”

Y/N pulled away, acutely aware of the odd stares from her classmates. But those were pinpricks compared to the blistering pain of her parents' wrath.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He frowns.

She shrugs his touch away, “Meet me in the woods behind the school during lunch.”

Like clockwork, Eddie finds her sitting on the shoddy wooden bench in the clearing out past the track and field. The sound of his footsteps with leaves crunching under his feet and the chain swinging along his jeans announcing his arrival.

“Hey smarty pants,” he greets, gently teasing. He slides in the spot next to her and wraps a protective arm around her hunched over shoulders. He kisses the top of her head and the proximity of his actions brings the scent of soap and the sort of musky scent she doesn’t know what to call other than just, boy, to her nostrils. It makes her close her eyes and shoulders drop slightly.

“I was worried about you yesterday. Was hoping you might call, sweetheart,” he sweetly says as he cups her cheek.

Y/N turns the other cheek and looks down at her lap. His touch is too tempting. Her body yearns for him, but she can’t. She has to be strong enough to resist.

“My parents took my phone away. I’m not even allowed to use the main phone in the kitchen unless it's for an emergency,” Y/N glumly replies.

“I think a quick call to your local dungeon master counts as an emergency,” he teases.

“Eddie,” She looks up at him sullenly, “It’s not funny.”

Y/N looks down and Eddie frowns.

“Hey, look at me,” he softly instructs, turning her shoulders towards him.

She holds her breath and looks into his warm eyes. They’re so beautiful, she wishes she could just jump into his irises and swim in the warm lagoon of their honey hue.

“We’re gonna figure this out, okay?”

“How? My phone privileges were taken away and I’m grounded for a month. I’m pretty much not allowed to do anything but go to school.”

“Seriously,” he asks, arms tensing at the thought.

“Yeah,” she looks down dejectedly.

“That’s bullshit. Are you kidding me?”

Y/N frowns angrily and huffs. Like she doesn’t already know that.

“Those’re the rules, Eddie” she shrugs glumly. “I have to follow them.”

Eddie exhales through his nostrils. “And what if you don’t?”

Y/N looks at him incredulously, “Eddie are you serious? I got the ass-chewing of a lifetime. I’ve never gotten in trouble like this before. I-I feel horrible for what I did.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N did nothing wrong. Your parents are just blowing this way outta proportion. Teenage rebellion is good. Healthy even.”

“Look Eddie, just because you can get away with being rebellious doesn’t mean I can.”

Eddie huffs in frustration. “I’m just saying, you need to stand up for yourself. Your parents are only gonna keep controlling you if you let them.”

Y/N opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

“And besides, who are your parents to stop you? I mean, think about it. The first time you do something like that, it’ll shock them, but the more you do it, the more they’ll get used to it. Then they’ll have no choice but to face the fact that we want to be together.”

Y/N looks at him in disgust and shakes her head before looking up at him with fear in her eyes, “Eddie, what the hell? I barely made it out of there alive.”

Eddie drops his shoulders he hadn’t realized were tensed up.

“You just don’t understand. It’s never gonna get any better. And even if it did, I… I wouldn’t want my parents to just put up with us dating. I love my parents and I don’t want to disappoint them any more than I already have.”

Eddie looks her square in the eye and throws the curveball of a question, “Y/N are you really disappointing them or are you finally doing what makes you happy?”

Y/N jerks her head back. She doesn’t know why his words cut as sharply as a knife as they do, but it stings nonetheless.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters to me is being with you, the right way. I want my parents to accept us.”

“And what if they don’t?”

Eddie looks into Y/N’s eyes.

“Are you only ever going to do things they approve of?”

Y/N’s teeth clench and her lips purse. She grabs onto the wooden table for stability as she feels tears threatening to spring from her eyes, but she can’t let Eddie see her cry. She can’t.

The question in her mind that has her on the verge of explosion: Is it really so wrong for me to want to date Eddie and have my parent’s approval too?

Eddie’s features soften at the sight of her state of deep tension. He has to remind himself that Y/N isn’t the one he should be mad at, it’s her parents. Even though Y/N is the one freely letting her parents drive the wedge between them even deeper.

A small part of him is envious. He almost admires Y/N’s willingness to obey her parents. And the way she doesn’t hate them for what they’ve done. She hasn’t even thought to continue dating him just to spite them.

And yet, the bigger part of him, full of spite and resentment he has toward his own parents, is angry, both at and for her. He crashed and burned trying to get his own father’s acceptance way back when and doesn’t want her to do the same.

“Look, I’m just… I hate seeing you like this,” he presses a palm to her back and gently rubs. “I know you really care about what your parents have to say, but they’re wrong about us, about you,” he whispers as he brings a hand forward to caress her hair. “Y/N, listen, you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

Y/N breathes in deeply, “Eddie… You didn’t see the look on their faces. It was like-like I’d taken their hearts and just smashed them into tiny little pieces, right in front of them.”

Eddie wants to say something, but is rendered speechless. He wants to complain about how unfair her parents are being or how ridiculous it all is, but he can see how upset she already is. He doesn’t want to be the one to bring any more tears to her precious eyes.

He wraps his arms around her and whispers in her hair, “I know.”

Y/N leans into his touch but doesn’t wrap her arms around him back.

Eddie takes a deep breath in and slowly pulls away. “So what are we gonna do now?”

Y/N peers up at him, through her curled lashes. Her eyes like falling stars.

“I think we need to call it.”

“W-What?” He chokes.

“I can’t,” Y/N sniffles and shakes her head, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What?” He sighs and frustratedly runs a hand through his hair, “Is this really what you want?”

Y/N shakes her head, “No, but I–”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie calls out to her, making her heart constrict. Y/N looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Remember what I said to you that night, on the phone?”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at Y/N awaiting her answer as she reluctantly nods.

“I meant it, okay? Every word. I’ll do whatever it takes for us to be together. To have a shot at finding out whatever this is, it’s the least we deserve, right?”

He moves his head to meet her gaze.

“I want,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. If Eddie starts crying then Y/N will surely cry too and absolutely none of that can happen.

“I need you in my life, Y/N. And I know you feel the same way too.”

Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. Hearing Eddie say he needs her in almost the same way she did to him in the dream she’d had that night makes her heart drop to her stomach, but only for a moment.

“Eddie, it doesn’t matter what I feel. And there’s nothing you can do to change the fact that my parents won’t let us be together.”

Eddie takes one good look at her. The creases in her forehead. The tension in her shoulders. The pout on her pretty lips. And the nervous look in her eyes. The kind of look you have when you need to be on guard. Before, it was just her heart she had to guard, but now it’s her spirit too.

“And besides, what’s the end game here?”

“What?” Eddie shakes his head in confusion.

“I mean, even if we did… date, how long could it possibly last?”

Eddie blinks, completely thrown for a loop by her question. “I don’t know, as long as we can keep it going I guess.”

“Eddie, what’ll happen when we graduate? When I go off to college?”

“I-I don’t know. I hadn’t really planned out our relationship Y/N,” Eddie says in a snappier tone than he’d meant. He knows Y/N likes to plan ahead, but even for something like this?

“Maybe they’re doing us a favor. Saving us the trouble.”

Eddie tenses, fighting his lip from quivering at the thought.

“Do you really believe that,” Eddie’s voice cracks and Y/N looks away.

She wishes her father’s words could go away. That they could’ve just gone in one ear and out the other. But they didn’t. They stuck to her. And as much as she’d like to believe in the little dream that anything is possible, she knows it's better, safer to be realistic.

For Eddie, it doesn’t matter if their relationship lasts 10 days or 10 years. And yeah it’ll hurt like hell when it’s over either way, but for her, he’s willing to take that chance. Or so he thought

“So that’s it? We’re not even going to try and see what this could be?” He asks in a steady and calculated voice.

Y/N frowns and looks away. When he puts it like that, she feels ridiculous, idiotic. Like a fool for not even trying. But how could she? How could she be brave enough to stand up to her parents? To stand tall in the face of adversity?

To cower in fear and hide away is what she’s always done. She did it whenever her sister did something rebellious and had to face the ugly consequences.

Y/N thought she could avoid that fate. All she had to do was obey her parents. If she did what she was told her life was easy, familiar, and safe.

“Eddie, I just…”

Y/N can feel her heart being torn down the middle. It’s killing her to let the people she loves down. If it’s not Eddie then it’s her parents. But she can stand to disappoint Eddie. She can’t stand to disappoint her parents anymore than she already has. She never wants to experience that ridicule again.

“For the first time in my life, I felt brave. You made me feel brave. You made me feel alive. And happy. But maybe it was all too much because then…then it all blew up in my face. And now, I’m scared.

I'm scared it’ll happen again. I’m scared that even wanting something like this makes me a bad person. I’m scared that I’ll lose you again because of something I have no control over.

So yeah, I’m sorry if that’s not the answer you want, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. He’s surprised by her answer. And if she wasn’t giving him the worst news possible, he would be proud of how assertive she’s being. If only she could channel that energy toward her parents.

“I think it would be best if we just acted like none of this ever happened. Now that our chemistry assignment is over and done with, I think we should just go our separate ways.”

And before he even has a chance to say anything, Y/N gets up from the table and runs away in the direction of the school.

Her muscle memory has her making her way to the cafeteria, but as soon as she sees her friends sitting at their usual spot, she freezes in her tracks, almost bumping into someone walking with their lunch tray.

“Watch where you’re going,” they spit at her.

Y/N tenses up and looks back at her friends smiling and laughing. It should make her happy to see her friends so happy, but at this moment, all she can feel is the fragile lines of her heart cracking into broken pieces.

She can’t do it. She thought she could at least handle lunch with them, but not today.

She makes the great escape from the cafeteria till her legs bring her to the safe haven of the school’s library.

She takes a spot towards the back, behind rows and rows of bookshelves by a window with a view of the student parking lot.

She spots a few of the jocks cutting class. For a moment, she almost hopes Eddie might come and find her. But more than anything, she just wants to scream.

***

For the rest of the week, Y/N avoids Eddie like the plague. Much to her chagrin, Eddie’s persistence has resulted in many a chicken scratch written note in her locker.

Y/N please, can we talk? I miss you like crazy. If you change your mind, I’ll be waiting by my van after school today (p.s. I promise I’ll be on time).

You didn’t show up yesterday. I guess you had an after school thing. One of those clubs you’re in that I forgot about. Ever the lovely smarty pants. Anyway, I have to stay after school for Hellfire today. Just so you know, the drama club doors are always open.

I know you won’t talk to me, but I just wanted to say you look really pretty today. Well, you look pretty everyday, but especially today.

I listened to the mixtape you made me. I wish I could tell you in person, but I think I might not hate the Thompson Twins (Don’t tell the Hellfire boys though).

I miss you sweetheart, please don’t shut me out.

Y/N crumbles each of them up and shoves them into her bag, letting them collect at the bottom. It takes every ounce of energy she has not to succumb to Eddie’s poetic ways.

In the meantime, Y/N continues to laser focus on school and avoid her friends.

She stopped eating lunch in the cafeteria and came up with an excuse to get out of any conversation with them in class.

Y/N didn’t want to have to explain what happened or pretend like everything was normal to anyone, so instead she’s choosing to walk the paved path before her alone.

Whenever Y/N comes home, she hides away in her room like a crab hiding in its shell, only coming out at meal times or to leave for school in the morning.

By the end of that long miserable week, Y/N asks her sister to take her to the Radio Shack. She’s been saving up her birthday money for an emergency and this was as much of an emergency as anything.

Normally her sister would object to chauffeuring her around, but even she felt a little bad for Y/N.

Luckily, because her sister would accompany her, Y/N’s parents allowed the little field trip.

A brand new Walkman and a few tapes of her favorite albums might be the only beacon of hope she has for a while, at least until this all passes. If it passes. Unlike the storm that night in the back of Eddie’s van, she fears this torment may never pass.

Eddie feels equally tormented by the whole thing. For one, he never expected to fall for a girl like Y/N. And now that he has, she’s just out of reach. Just his luck.

He knows the universe is just laughing at him like it always does, because for the first time in a long time, he actually had hope. Hope that even he can have a happy ending. But it’s long gone now.

As the days fly by and there’s no sign of change, he realizes this isn’t just a setback anymore. That there really might be nothing he can say or do to change her parents' minds. To change her mind.

And even if by a miracle, they could be together, he can’t help but feel sort of hurt and rejected by Y/N's insistence on avoiding each other and acting like what they had means nothing.

Her act of obedience is not only taking her own happiness away, but his too.

It hurt, but he hated letting it show. So he exchanged his pain for irritability or anger.

He would lash out at the boys from Hellfire Club for the littlest things. He would drive home to the loudest most brash music he owned a cassette too.

At the trailer, he would angrily pluck away at his guitar. And sometimes, on the more difficult days, he would even pick fights with angry drunks at the hideout just to feel something.

When it inevitably didn’t, all he had to do was turn to that lucky little black tackle box to take his pain and anger away. And oh, what a familiar delight that was.

Anything to numb the pain of losing her. And what could have been.

As Eddie began to turn to his vices for comfort, Y/N found comfort in a few bad habits of her own.

Self-imposed isolation in times of turmoil was one. She hardly spoke to anyone at home or school. She couldn’t be seen without her headphones on or the Walkman attached to her hip.

It probably would have killed Eddie to know she couldn’t listen to Prince anymore. If she so much as listened to the first 3 seconds of any track on Purple Rain, she would fall apart.

But, on a hard day, she’ll pop in that one tape, lie in bed with the covers over her, and sob into her pillow as the ballad of Purple Rain flows into her ears like medicine.

The rest of her days include hiding away in her room or the library at school. She makes excuses to get out of hanging out with her friends. She cries at night and sleeps a lot during the weekends.

Another bad habit she turned to was extreme focus. All her newfound time and energy was devoted to the one and only thing in her life she could control: academics.

The self-imposed torture was alarming to many of the people in her life.

During the first week of her punishment, her parents were taken aback at her change of temperament, but figured she was just upset. But the longer it went on, the more worried they got. So did her friends and teachers.

When they all tried checking in on her she gave the same excuse that she was just stressed about college applications, which to a degree was true.

However, she could fool her teachers or her parents, but she couldn’t fool her friends.

Michelle especially knew something was up. Even though Y/N hadn’t told her anything about what happened that weekend with Eddie, Michelle figured it must have something to do with the reason Y/N was acting so weird.

And even though Y/N wanted it to be kept a secret, Michelle told the rest of the girls in their friend group, out of concern.

Just like Y/N thought, they were shocked at first, but she would be surprised to learn just how happy they were for her. Happy that Y/N finally found someone, even if it was a freak like Eddie Munson.

Immediately, they knew they had to talk to Eddie. Michelle was already at the defense, prepared to interrogate Eddie and literally fight him if he had done anything that would hurt Y/N.

Little did they know that what hurt Y/N the most was not being with him at all.

***

After her one month punishment was served, Y/N the zombie still hadn’t left. She continued to shut the world out.

Her parents tried to talk to her, wanting to understand why she was acting this way but she wouldn’t budge. She was giving them what they wanted, right? Anything more would be a death sentence.

And with early decision applications due soon, Y/N was in no place to waste time with friends or family or anything else that would distract her.

She mustered up the energy to craft them to perfection. With near perfect SAT scores and gpa, all that was left was to refine her resume and essays.

It only took many a sleepless night, but by the time she had a decent application together, she put them through an extensive review process.

She reviewed them with her current English teacher and every English teacher she had since she started high school.

She found another school counselor who could review them and even reviewed them with the school librarian.

And just when she thought they might be good enough, she even went to review them with the librarian at the public library in town.

Countless hours of editing, hundreds of pencil shavings, and red pen ink stains later and she was almost there.

Before she knew it, that dreaded November day was upon her. If she wanted her application to arrive by the deadline, she would have to mail them in soon.

One fateful Saturday morning, she sat in her room and rifled through her materials at least ten times to make sure every element of her application was present and accounted for, pristine, and completed to perfection.

She put them in the envelope and sealed it shut. With the packet addressed and ready to go, she left the house and bicycled over to the post office.

She walked through the doors setting off a jingling noise to her ears. She walked over to the counter and handed over the packet to the person working there.

In the blink of an eye, she sent three and a half years worth of work off its merry way to be scrutinized for her aptitude at the University of Chicago.

She had time before she would submit applications to her safety and reach schools. And with an application perfect enough for U Chicago, she knew she could reuse those same materials.

But this was it. All those hours studying, volunteering, and working built up to this moment. And suddenly, the pressure built on herself was free to flow from her shoulders down to her hands into that packet and on their way to Chicago, IL.

As she walks out the door and the bell chimes again, a sudden and intense pang feeling hits her chest.

Like a bomb, this gut level feeling hits her: she has no more control at this point. Between now and the time admission decisions get released, there is nothing she can do.

There is nothing now.

As she reaches the bike stand, she begins to weep and instinctively, her hand flies to cover her mouth.

At first it was a few hot tears quietly slipping their way down her cheeks. But then it became a deep seated cry, starting from her lungs and chest working their way up to her throat then her eyes and finally her head.

It had been weeks of crying, but now it felt explosive. For the first time since that dreadful night, she truly feels lost and alone.

Without a goal to keep her company or give her hope anymore, she’s never felt so small.

As she hops on her bike and cycles past a park, she wanders through a clearing in the woods. She finds access to a stream and hops off her bike to gently kneel before it, watching as the current lazily washes over the rocks. The light breeze in the air swooshes against her hair.

For a moment, she can see her muddled reflection in the water. Her teary eyes blinking rapidly and her cheeks red hot.

Once she was sure no one was around, she let it all out. No holding back. She held her head in her hands as she cried and screamed till her cheeks and lungs burned.

All these years, she’d spent 110% of her effort trying to be perfect for others, to submit to their scrutiny. It took every ounce of energy she had. The weight of it all that's been crushing her down all these years is suddenly gone.

For the first time, the pressure is gone. The need to be perfect, at an all time low.

It doesn’t matter what she does. Whatever is meant to happen will happen. The earth will still spin on its axis at a 23 degree angle. The sun will rise and fall no matter what she does. Or who she is.

At the very least, she’ll want to maintain her gpa to graduate as number 3 in her class, but otherwise… She doesn’t really have to do anything to prove herself anymore.

She can finally breathe.

She lowers her hands and looks at her reflection in the water. She laughs aloud and sighs.

When there were no tears left to cry, she regains her breath, dusts herself off and cycles back home.

***

Y/N feels a shift in her spirit. Like she's a new person, well, sort of. She’s no longer the girl that grinds herself to shreds to achieve her goals, well not until the next goal presents itself. But for now, she can relax. She can surrender to life.

What sort of person will she become with this newfound freedom? She doesn’t quite know.

When she gets home, she ignores the sounds of her parents and sister and goes upstairs. She locks herself in her room and searches through her closet. She takes out the dusty old half-used sketchbook. She sits at her desk, puts on her headphones, and starts her Walkman.

She takes out a perfectly sharpened, long, yellow, number two pencil. She lets the pencil hit the paper and it flies.

She draws and draws and draws for the rest of the day.

Without even thinking, she just draws whatever her hand feels like drawing. She fills pages and pages of the sketchbook. She never stops to eat or drink or even use the bathroom. She has years worth of drawing she needs to let out.

She draws pictures of Hawkins, her friends, memories of Chicago, her favorite album covers, her room the way it is now, her room the way she wished it had been decorated, her favorite movie posters, outfits she’s seen other people wear that she thought looked cool, people from school, landscapes of school, college applications, the stress of maintaining a perfect gpa, herself when she graduates, and Eddie.

She draws so many pictures of Eddie. Eddie in the library, Eddie at the diner, Eddie in his van, Eddie at the lake, Eddie and his beautiful long hair, Eddie’s lovely hands adorned with chunky rings, Eddie's tattoos, the new tattoos she had drawn on him that day, Eddie in a Hellfire shirt, Eddie in his Metallica crop top, Eddie in that jacket he wears like a uniform, Eddie with the chain on the jeans hung loose on his hips, Eddie with a bandana hanging out of his back pocket, Eddie in his room, Eddie playing guitar for her, Eddie teaching her how to play guitar.

Eddie Munson, the first boy to ever steal her heart.

It all comes out of her so fiercely. It takes over her like a spell. She was in the zone. She didn’t realize the magnitude of the force of her drawing till she woke up the next day still seated at her desk. Light seeping through the slits of the curtains. She turns to the side and sees a plate of what must have been dinner off to the side of the desk.

What? Who brought her that? When did they come in? Was Y/N already asleep? Surely they wouldn’t have left it if she was asleep. How did she not notice them?

She looks back at the clock on her wall that reads 12:36.

Y/N’s never woken up this late. What happened yesterday?

She looks down at the sketchbook opened at a page with a drawing of the Grease movie poster reimagined with her and Eddie smudged at different places.

Her desk is littered with pencil shavings, eraser filings, and broken or shorter pencils.

She flips through the pages filled with at least dozens of new drawings. Some are messy and crude while others are bright and beautiful.

She closes the sketchbook and holds it to her chest. She smiles and starts crying. She’s confused by the tears despite feeling relieved and realizes they’re tears of joy.

After all these years, she’s still got it. More than ever before, drawing has brought her so much joy. Joy she almost forgot even existed.

She takes a deep breath in satisfaction. This alone is enough to keep her happy. Even if she never makes a penny on her drawings, she’ll continue to do them. She doesn’t care what kind of job she has, as long as it can afford her to live comfortably and have time for this. Drawing. It’s what makes her happy. It’s what feeds her soul. It’s what makes her spirit soar.

She loves it so much, she just wishes she could share it with someone. But who? Her parents never cared for her talent. Her friends might think it’s cool the first few drawings but after that? Who knows.

Someone knocks on her door and slowly opens it. And for some reason, Y/N’s mind instantly runs to Eddie.

But it’s her sister who peeks through the crack in the door before sighing in relief and opening it all the way.

“Phew, you’re awake. And conscious.”

“What happened?”

“You stomped home and shut yourself in your room which is what you usually do now, but whenever we called you for lunch and dinner you didn’t answer so we checked in on you to see a drawing demon possessed you.”

Y/N looks around her desk.

“Are mom and dad mad?”

“Nah. They were weirded out at first but then they were just glad you weren’t crying or sleeping.”

“Oh,” Y/N replies, not sure if her parents' reaction is a good thing or a bad thing.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been acting really weird.”

Y/N glares at her sister. So much for the, now short lived, joy of drawing.

“It’s nothing.” Her sister would never understand.

“Is it because mom and dad won’t let you date? Just do it in secret. They won’t know the difference.”

“That was me trying to date him in secret,” Y/N offhandedly admits to herself. “Guess I’m no good at it.”

“It sucks, but you’ll get over it and then next thing you’ll know, you’ll have moved on to the next guy.”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want to move into the next guy. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You of all people should know that it’s not about which boy I date, but about not getting to date period.”

“You get better about hiding the more you do it.” Her sister shrugs.

“I don’t want to have to hide or lie about it. I hate doing that. I always feel horrible after.”

What Y/N wants is for her parents to be cool with her dating like her other friends' parents are. Y/N doesn’t want to feel like a bad daughter for falling in love.

Before her sister can respond, her mom calls out from downstairs.

“Is Y/N awake?”

“Yes,” her sister yells out.

“Come down, lunch is getting cold.”

Y/N’s sister raises her eyebrows before turning around and heading down stairs.

Y/N sullenly follows suit, trudging down the stairs. As she walks into the kitchen, she sees her family sitting at the table. Her mom's eyes light up when she sees Y/N.

Y/N begrudgingly takes a seat.

“Good afternoon sleeping beauty,” her mom teasingly greets. The words make Y/N cringe, but she musters a half smile.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N shoves a fork into her food, “Fine”.

Y/N’s mom pointedly looks at her dad.

“We’re going to go to the grocery store after this, want to come? We can get your favorite cereal,” her mom excitedly offers.

What is Y/N, five years old?

“No thanks, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been up in your room an awful lot. Maybe it’ll do you good to go outside. Get some fresh air.”

Y/N shakes her head, “What’s the point? It’s not like I’m allowed to do anything fun right?”

“Drop the attitude Y/N,” her dad scolds.

“Y/N, you can’t be mad forever. There’ll be plenty of opportunities to have fun after high school.”

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in the clear. She thought things would get better again. But it turns out drawing was just the bandaid on a bullet wound.

The next day at school, Y/N’s mood slightly improves, only if she’s scribbling in her sketchbook.

Eddie notices her pulling it out in class and he could just cry. He’s so proud of her for getting into drawing again. He wishes he could say something to her or ask to see one of her drawings, but he knows there’s a line that’d be crossed if he did.

Later that day, Michelle and the rest of Y/N’s friends decide to finally talk to Eddie.

“You’re Eddie Munson, right?” Michelle asks as she approaches Eddie at his table at lunch.

“Who’s asking,” Eddie defensively replies.

“I’m Michelle, a friend of Y/N’s,” Michelle says and Eddie’s eyes soften. “We need to talk.”

Michelle leads him over to their lunch table where Y/N is undoubtedly gone again.

As Eddie sits down, the other girls stare at him, some confusingly, others surprisingly.

“What’s going on with Y/N. Is she okay?”

Michelle looks at him cautiously, “We could ask you the same thing Munson?”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asks in confusion.

“We know something’s wrong with Y/N and we know you have something to do with it.”

“Uh, I’d say it’s more her parents fault than anything.”

The girls look at each other confused. Eddie furrows his own eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Michelle asks.

“I mean, I know I’m kind of at fault for not being careful enough, but I just didn’t think her parents were going to find out, you know.”

“Y/N’s parents found out about you?!”

“Yeah,” Eddie responds looking at them curiously, “Did she not tell you?”

“Y/N hasn’t said a word to us since that weekend,” Michelle says. “Any idea why that is?”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “ I mean, I know why she’s avoiding me, but I don’t know why she would avoid you guys. She was grounded for a while and her parents wouldn’t let her go out or use the phone, but I’m pretty sure she could still talk to you at school.”

The girls look at each other in shock.

“Eddie, what exactly happened between you and Y/N that weekend,” Michelle asks. And Eddie tells the girls everything.

He tells them about how it all started with a simple chemistry assignment. That they’d seen each other practically every day after school. How she wanted to see him again, even though she was afraid of being caught. How much they’d grown to like each other, especially after that day at the lake.

But when he brought her home only thirty minutes past curfew, her parents absolutely flipped out. Her mom was outside waiting for her and saw Eddie. He had no idea what happened after that.

But when she’d called him later that night, she was crying. She’d sounded so heartbroken. And the following Monday at school, she called it off. And he hasn’t heard from her since.

“We need to go find Y/N right now,” Michelle declares as she stands up.

“And do what Michelle, interrogate her? It’s obvious she wants to be left alone.”

“She’s been left alone long enough. She needs us. All of us,” Michelle adds, looking pointedly at Eddie.

“And you, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you do anything? You left her to deal with all that alone?” Michelle asks Eddie.

Eddie stands up and scowls, “Listen princess, you don’t know a thing about me, okay?”

Michelle and the other girls look at him with wide eyes and slack jaws.

“And I didn’t… I didn’t leave her to deal with it alone. I wanted to deal with it together, but she wouldn’t let me. She kept… pushing me away,” he mutters the last words through gritted teeth. He looks up at her, and she sees the pain and torment in his eyes.

Michelle looks at him with pity. She doesn’t know Eddie well, but it comes as a shock to see his tough guy persona facade crackling right in front of her very eyes.

She sits back down and takes a deep breath. Eddie sits down with her.

“Guys, what are we going to do?”

“Michelle’s right, maybe we should go talk to her, see what’s going on. Let her know we’re here for her.” One girl says.

“I don’t think it should be all of us though. I think she might get freaked out. You said she didn’t even want us to know right?” Another girl adds and Michelle nods.

“Maybe you should talk to her, Michelle. I think if it’s just you, she might be willing to open up.”

The lines in her forehead crease and she contemplates. “I don’t even know where to find her. I’ve seen her hide out in the library a few times and even then she always avoids me.”

“If she’s not there, she might be in the woods just past the school,” Eddie suggests.

“I think she has honor society meetings on Wednesdays too,” one girl adds.

“That’s today,” Michelle exclaims. “Okay, I know just what to do.”

“Wait,” Eddie juts his hand out.

“What?” Michelle asks.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow and straighten. He blinks and opens his mouth, “I…”

The girls all look at him as he searches his brain for the right words to say.

“If you see Y/N, could you tell her that… I would let the whole world know I love Prince if it meant we could be together.”

***

For the rest of the school day, Michelle is lost in thought, planning out just what she’ll say to Y/N. A small part of her is worried the plan won’t work, but a bigger more determined part knows it will.

She knows Y/N tends to retreat inward when times get tough. That she hates letting it show when she has a moment of weakness, but that was usually over a bad test grade or minor problem she was having with someone in honor society. It’s never gotten this bad before.

Michelle waits for Y/N outside the honor society meeting room, nervously checking her watch. To her luck, Y/N is one of the last few to leave the room.

When Y/N walks out of the room, she doesn’t notice Michelle at first. Michelle stands straight and calls Y/N’s name. Y/N stops, like a deer frozen in headlights.

Michelle walks up to her and nervously smiles, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Y/N squeaks.

“Can we talk?” Michelle asks. Y/N looks at her nervously. “I was thinking we could go for a drive? I can give you a ride home too, so you don’t have to walk in the cold.”

Now that is an offer Y/N can’t refuse. But she still blinks nervously. “Ok.”

The two walk to the front of the school. “How was honor society today?”

“It was alright. We’re getting ready for winter formal.”

“Oh, that’s exciting,” Michelle says, “and stressful?”

“Exciting, yes,” Y/N laughs, “Stressful? Should be, but I just don’t have it in me to care anymore.”

“What?” Michelle asks in amused surprise. “Y/N, not caring about something school related? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Y/N weakly laughs. “It’s exhausting to care so much”

“Yeah, I hear that one” Michelle says as they get into her car.

They continue to make small talk as Michelle pulls into the parking lot of the public park by their houses. It’s the park they used to go to all the time as kids.

Michelle parks the car and looks over at Y/N.

“Hey girl, is everything okay? You’ve been really distant. The girls and I are starting to get worried about you.”

“Oh, haha, that?” Y/N laughs nervously, “sorry about that. I was just really caught up in college application season, you know? I just wanted to put all my time and effort into having the perfect application for U Chicago and didn’t want anything to distract me from it.”

Michelle sees through Y/N instantly. She knows there’s some truth in her explanation, but it’s not enough to explain the emotional distance too. But before she fully interrogates her, she decides to ease her way in.

“So how do you feel about your application? Have you submitted it yet?”

“Yeah, I submitted it over the weekend. I, um, I feel pretty good about it. I know I did the best I could. Just sort of worried it still won’t be…”

“Good enough?”

Y/N presses her lips together and nods.

“Y/N if U Chicago can’t see what a superstar you are, it is their loss, you hear me?”

Y/N smiles meekly, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Seriously. They’d be so lucky to have you as a student. You’re the smartest, most hardworking and talented person I know.”

“Thanks Michelle,” Y/N softly smiles. “It’s all just really nerve-wracking.”

“I know, but we all believe in you. You need to believe in yourself too, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… trying,” Y/N smiles weakly.

Michelle looks down at the sketchbook in Y/N’s lap and smiles up at her.

“You’re drawing again?”

Y/N’s eyes widen, “Oh, um, yeah.”

“That’s awesome!” Michelle compliments, looking Y/N sincerely in the eye.

Y/N smiles shyly and looks away, “Yeah, um, now that I don’t have to worry about college applications that much anymore, I have more time for, um, this.”

“That’s really great. I’m happy you’re drawing again. I know how much you missed it.”

Y/N winces and smiles. “Yeah.”

Michelle leans over and peeks at the pages between Y/N’s fingers “Can I see one?”

Y/N’s head shoots up and her eyes grow to the size of golf balls. She clutches the sketchbook to her chest and tenses her shoulders.

Michelle nervously laughs and leans back, “I mean, if you ever wanted to, I’d love to see what you’ve drawn.”

Y/N loosens her grip and looks down. In a dream world, no one would ever bear witness to her creations. To live inside her mind this way would be too invasive. But at the same time, what’s the use of creating something if it isn’t meant to be shared with the world. As scary as the world is, her best friend might be a good start.

She opens the book slowly and flips through the pages to find one she knows Michelle will like.

It’s a picture of all the girls together at Starcourt mall. The day they went to see Footloose together. She even drew the movie poster in the corner.

She puts the book on display for Michelle and shs grabs the ends.

“Y/N,” Michelle squeaks, eyes widened in awe. “I love it.”

“Portraits and faces aren’t really my forte, but it’s a bit easier to draw things from memory.”

“No, no it’s perfect. The girls would love it too.”

Y/N frowns and Michelle tenses. “I mean, if you ever wanted to show them.”

Y/N presses her lips together.

“Y/N, I miss you Y/N. We all do. Why don’t you come sit with us at lunch anymore?”

Y/N opens her mouth to reply but nothing comes out.

“Did we do something to upset you?” Michelle asks cautiously.

“No, no,” Y/N shakes her head. “I’m just… I’ve just been busy, is all.”

“Y/N,” Michelle scolds.

“I-I am.” Y/N shrugs.

Michelle takes a deep breath in, “I know you’ve been busy with college applications and everything, butThis… This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain member of the Hellfire Club, would it?”

Y/N eyes nearly pop out of her head as every muscle in her body tenses. “What?” She mutters between gritted teeth.

“I noticed you started avoiding us after that weekend you said you were going out with him. Did something happen?”

“Um, no, no. Nothing happened,” Y/N says nervously.

Michelle cocks an eyebrow, “Y/N, did Eddie do anything to… hurt you?”

“What?! No! No… Quite the opposite actually.”

“Oh, so what happened?”

“What happened?”

“Yeah, what happened with you and Eddie that weekend?”

“Um, it was… I just realized he wasn’t the right guy for me,” Y/N replies as she looks down and fidgets with the corners of her sketchbook.

Michelle glares at Y/N. Y/N peers up at Michelle.

“What?” Y/N asks innocently.

“Why are you lying?”

“I-I’m no—“

“Bullshit Y/N. I know what happened. Eddie told us everything.”

Y/N gasps, “You talked to Eddie?”

Michelle nods.

Y/N grows teary eyed imagining Eddie tell her friends about the moments they shared together in his trailer, at the diner, at the lake, in the back of his van.

“He told you… Everything?”

Michelle grabs Y/N’s hand and squeezes, “Everything.”

Y/N wiggles her hand out of Michelle’s grasp and brings both to cover her face. She hangs her head in her hands and starts sobbing.

“Y/N,” Michelle says endearingly. She wraps her arms around her and hugs her tightly. Y/N leans into her touch and continues to sob. Her teardrops run down her cheeks as her palms squish them flat.

“I know, I know. It’s okay,” Michelle comfortingly hums as she strokes Y/N’s hair.

She’s never seen Y/N like this before. She knows Y/N hates crying in front of others, so it must be something bad enough to make her act like this.

When some of her sobs soften, Michelle says, “Y/N I’m sorry things didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, but you were so brave for putting yourself out there. It took a lot of courage.”

Y/N sniffles and sobs even harder. “It was so hard. It hurts so much.”

“I know, I know. It took a lot of guts. I’m proud of you for even trying.”

Y/N sheds a few more tears before moving her hands away and looking at Michelle.

“Really?”

Michelle smiles at Y/N’s puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks.

“Of course! I know how you are. And I know how your parents are. For someone who hardly ever listens to their heart, I’m glad you did this time. I know it must’ve been scary, but not a lot of people have the courage to follow their heart and do what makes you happy, especially when no one else understands.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows. Michelle places a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “You deserve to be happy Y/N, even if it’s the school freak causing it ”

Y/N looks away and laughs. She mutters, “it doesn’t feel that way. My parents made sure of that.”

“Have you tried talking to them?”

Y/N glares at Michelle, “Not since the night it happened. They made it pretty clear they won’t budge on their stance.”

“Things are different now, right? Maybe that night they were just caught up in the heat of the moment. Maybe it’d be different if you tried talking to them now.”

“And what would I say? Hey mom, dad, can I please have a boyfriend? Pretty, please? All my friends have one.”

“No,” Michelle rolls her eyes and chuckles, “I’m just saying, let your parents know where you’re coming from. You’re a great daughter. They have every reason to trust you. And they should trust they raised a responsible girl.”

“Michelle,” Y/N shakes her head. “There’s no way I can do that. My parents aren’t like the parents you see on tv or in movies. I can’t just negotiate things with them. What they say is law and I have to abide by that if I want to make it out of there alive.”

Michelle frowns, “What if we were there with you?”

“Huh,” Y/N wipes her cheek.

“What if the girls and I were there with you while you talked to your parents? For moral support. And evidence of how great of a person you are to support your case.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “you still have 4 years till you go to law school Miche, you don’t need to practice your lawyer skills on me.”

Michelle rolls her eyes and smiles. “It’s not like that, I’m simply exercising my human right to support my friends. So what if the scales of justice propel my life?”

Y/N laughs. “Thanks, but, in all honesty, I don’t think it’d be worth it. We’d all be wasting our time. My parents tell my sister and I time and time again that they’re not one of our friends. I doubt they’d care what you all have to say.”

Michelle searches Y/N’s eyes. She won’t take no for an answer. If not this way, then she'll find another, but she has to know. “If you knew there was a chance they might listen to what you have to say, and that you could convince them, would you want that?”

“What do you mean?”

“For arguments sake, let’s just say you could somehow convince your parents to let you date Eddie and actually change their minds about the whole thing.”

“Okay?”

“Would you want that to happen? To be able to change their minds?”

Without hesitation Y/N says, “Of course.”

Michelle grabs her hand and pauses for a moment before asking, “Do you miss Eddie?”

Y/N peers up at Michelle before looking down at her lap, brows furrowed. “I’m trying really hard not to.”

“I think he is too.”

“What,” Y/N eagerly looks at Michelle.

“Yeah. That boy has a real soft spot for you.”

Y/N scrunches her nose, “I don’t know about that.”

“He wanted me to tell you he really did love Purple Rain. Wouldn’t have pegged him for a Prince fan, personally.”

Y/N sniffles and laughs, “I guess that’s kind of my doing. We don’t really like the same music, but Prince became the one thing we could agree on.”

Michelle smiles at her.

“He learned to play a few songs for me too. It was really sweet,” Y/N sighs happily before her features turn down again. “Anytime I listen to his music, I think of Eddie and it makes me really sad.”

Michelle sighs. Y/N, who’s always been so strong, has never looked more weak and defeated.

Y/N might have lost hope, but Michelle hasn’t. She knows they can find a way to make things right. But for now, she doesn’t exactly know what that way is.

***

For the rest of the week, Y/N carries on like usual. She starts making brief appearances at lunch, but she usually comes up with some excuse to leave early.

When Y/N’s gone, Michelle tells the girls what happened when she talked to Y/N. “I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but we are going to make sure Y/N’s parents let her date Eddie.”

“How exactly are we going to do that?” One girl asks.

“I don’t know,” Michelle slumps in her seat. “I really think they’d hear Y/N out if one of us was there too. Especially if all of us are there. She needs our moral support and there’s strength in numbers.”

“Wouldn’t her parents just think we’re ambushing them?” Another girl asks.

“Maybe,” Michelle contemplates, “But maybe it wouldn’t be a complete ambush if Y/N didn’t know.”

“What?”Another girl asks. “Wouldn’t that be worse to just walk up to their door like, surprise! Now will you please give us ten minutes to convince you why our best friend should have a boyfriend?”

“Not exactly. But I think if we showed up and really talked to them, we could find common ground saying how we’ve been concerned about Y/N from the way she’s been acting and wanted to check on her. We heard what’s happened with Eddie and wanted to let you know how great of a guy he is for her.” Michelle explains.

“Shouldn’t Eddie be here for this conversation then?” One girl asks.

“I don’t know, should he?” Another chimes in.

“Yeah, he probably should. I mean, we are trying to get them back together right?”

“Yeah, let me go get him,” Michelle says. She walks over to Eddie’s table and summons him back to theirs.

“Here’s the deal Eddie, I talked to Y/N and she’s doing a lot better, but she’s still really broken up by this whole situation. So, I propose we all go to her house and talk to her parents to see if we can convince them to let you two date.”

“What? Are you out of your mind?” Eddie scowls. “No way. It’s a miracle I left her house in one piece that night.”

“Eddie, don’t tell me you’re scared of Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“I’m not… scared. I just know what I’m up against. I know her parents don’t like me and don’t want us to be together.”

“Well, I can’t guarantee they’ll like you any more after this, but if you want to date their daughter, they’ll at least need to respect you.”

Eddie sneers. In what world could any of this possibly work?

“And we’ll be right there with you. They like us, so you’ll get like ten points by association.”

Eddie shakes his head. He can at least pretend to entertain the thought that talking to her parents could work. “Okay, so what do I have to do?”

“You need to come with us, be presentable and on your best behavior, and help us convince Y/N’s parents to let her date you.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “What? You want me to grovel to her parents? No way.”

“Eddie c’mon.”

“No, not happening. Why should I be the one to kiss their asses? Why should I have to change myself for their approval? I swore to myself I’d never do that shit again.”

“Eddie, we’re not asking you to change yourself. It’s obvious Y/N likes you just the way you are. We’re not messing with that. We just need to show her parents… your good side.”

“My good side?”

“Yeah. Show them what a gentleman you are. That you’re gonna take care of their daughter and treat her with respect. That you’ll be a good influence on her.”

Eddie scowls in disgust. “What else? Do you want me in a monkey suit too? Cut my hair to a suitable non-Beatle length?”

“Eddie, work with us, okay? We’re on the same team.”

Eddie sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, let’s try a little role play. I’ll be her parents and you just answer as yourself.”

“Not the kind of role play I’d willingly get into but okay.”

“Eddie.”

“I was talking about D&D,” Eddie snickers.

Michelle rolls her eyes, “Okay, Eddie, is it. What are your intentions with our daughter?”

“To corrupt her. Stray her away from the path of God. Convert her into a super senior freak like me,” he answers confidently and smiles crazily with his tongue hanging out.

Michelle smacks his arm, “Eddie, I know you think you’re being funny right now, but this is serious. Do you want to be with Y/N yes or no?”

Eddie sighs and looks away, muttering, “Yes.”

“Okay, let’s try this again. Eddie, what are your intentions with our daughter?”

Eddie closes his eyes and breathes in. He opens them and looks straight into Michelle’s eyes. “I want to date your daughter. I know she isn’t normally allowed, but I care about her a lot and want to have an honest conversation about why I should.”

“Ooh,” the girls all coo.

Michelle raises her brows and nods, “Okay, that’s a start.”

“Ugh,” Eddie sneers. “I feel like I’m in court, pleading my case.”

“In a way, you are Munson. Her parents are the judge and we’re all witnesses. But lucky for you, I’m your attorney.”

“What?” Eddie asks with disdain.

“I want to be a lawyer when I’m older. I’ve been able to argue my way out of pretty much anything since I was 5.”

“Where were you the night we got caught?” Eddie rolls his eyes.

Michelle shakes her head. “Okay, let’s try another one. Eddie, our darling Y/N is a stellar student on the way to becoming a freshman at the University of Chicago. How are you doing in school? What are your plans after graduation?”

Eddie begins sweating, throat growing dry. “I don’t know what to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know the answer to that question isn’t something they want to hear.”

“Here we’ll workshop it. Just give me the real answer and we’ll work on the wording together.”

“Um, this is my third senior year and I don’t even know if I’ll graduate so I haven’t even thought that far enough?”

“Yikes, okay—“

Eddie rubs a palm over his face, “See! This is stupid there’s no way they’re gonna say yes to this,” Eddie comments as he points to his face.

“Eddie, get a grip, okay,” Michelle orders as she grabs his shoulders and shakes him. “It’s really starting to piss me off how hopeless you and Y/N are being about this.”

Eddie scoffs, “I hate this. I never care what anyone thinks about me. But for Y/N… for some reason, I do. It was enough of a miracle for her to like me. And I normally wouldn’t care what her parents think either, but it means enough to her for me to.”

Michelle looks at him understandingly.

“And her parents… I barely met her mom so not enough to get a real impression. But from what Y/N’s told me… I’m terrified. I mean, you've met her parents right? How are you not afraid of them?”

“Well for one, I know how to kiss ass to get what I want. But two, I’m not really afraid of anyone. If someone doesn’t like me that’s their problem. And if they make it my problem, I know I can just change their minds. It’s really not that hard. Just takes a little work.”

“For you, maybe,” Eddie spits.

“That’s what I keep trying to tell you Eddie. I’m here to help you and Y/N. We only have a fighting chance if we all combine our strengths together.”

Eddie humphs knowing Michelle is right.

“So what should I say?”

“Well, you can admit that academics aren’t your strong suit in the way Y/N’s are. It sounds nice and it’s the truth. Then just tell them what other things you’re good at.”

“Um, so I could just say… Can you repeat the question?”

“Sure. What are you like in school Eddie? Any big plans after graduation?”

“Um, school is… okay… but not exactly where I shine. I leave that all to Y/N,” Eddie laughs nervously.

“That’s good,” one girl encourages.

“She’s right, that was good,” Michelle says. “Go on.”

“I, um, play guitar. I’ve been playing for as long as I can remember. I used to play for the school band, but stopped so I could form my own band. We, um, have a gig at a small venue just outside town every Tuesday.”

“That’s good. What about life after graduation?”

“Um, as for after graduation. I… won’t be going to college. I plan to start working. I used to, um… help my dad work on cars when I was younger. I still do it sometimes with my Uncle so I think I’ll probably try to become a mechanic.”

The girls look at him and contemplate his answer.

Eddie nervously looks across their faces, “How was that? Was that… good?”

Michelle looks off into space, “Yeah, I’m just trying to think if there’s anything they might find an issue with but no I think that answer was good.”

Eddie nods.

“And just so you know, humility goes a long way with them. Having confidence is good, but if you get cocky with them they’re gonna hate it. The nervous ums and stuff will help.”

Eddie quirks his eyebrow. “Remind me to hire you when you pass the bar.”

Michelle mocks salutes, “Will do Munson.”

“So, what else do you think they’ll ask?”

“Well they’ll probably just try to get to know you. Know what their daughter is getting into. They might ask you about your interests and hobbies or your family and friends.”

Eddie sharply inhales.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want to, but give them enough. They’ll want to know what Y/N’s getting herself into and trust that she’ll be okay.”

“No pressure right?” Eddie uncomfortably jokes.

“Eddie, the most important question you’ll need to answer is: why should we let you date our daughter?”

Eddie gulps. His forehead creases as he tries to find the right words.

“Because… I really like her. And… she’s a great girl.” Eddie winces and shrugs

Michelle furrows her eyebrows and leans forward, “Eddie, dig deep. Is that really all you’ve got?”

“No, I'm just… I don’t know what to say, man. I’m not good with words.”

“Well you better find them. This is your only shot at getting Y/N back and I’d hate to see you blow it.”

Eddie scowls at Michelle. She’s annoying, but she’s right. What other choice does he have? If he can’t change Y/N’s mind, maybe he can change her parent’s minds.

Will they be reasonable people? Who the hell knows. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t even try.

“Fine, let me try again,” He sys through partially gritted teeth. Michelle gives him a small encouraging smile. She takes a beat and repeats the question, “So Eddie, why should we let you date our daughter?”

Eddie takes a deep breath in. He furrows his eyebrows in concentration.

“Well Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N,” he cringes at the formality, “Dating Y/N is an honor I’m not quite sure I even deserve. Believe me, I don’t take it for granted one second that a beautiful girl like her, as smart as she is, even likes someone like me. Does Y/N deserve a guy like me? Probably not. She deserves the damn world. And I’ll do everything I can to give it to her.”

The girls all widen their eyes and say their “aw’s”

Eddie flinches, “And, um, I promise to take care of her. To respect her. To listen to her. To support her. Whatever she needs, I want to give that to her and more.”

Michelle nods, “That’s it.”

***

The next day drones on as usual, till Y/N stays after school for tutoring. After her session with a boy on the basketball team is over, she clears up her desk and packs her things in her bag.

“Good work Travis, I’ll see you next week,” she waves him off as he leaves his desk and exits the classroom.

She exits the classroom soon after and makes her way down the empty hall. She turns into a different hallway and nears the drama room. She slows down her pace to a stop before the closed door. She takes a deep breath in and edges closer to the small window on the door, only to find an empty room with the light turned odd. She lets a breath out and sullenly walks toward the front of the school.

She opens the doors and tightens her jacket to her chest as a blast of cold air hits her in the face. She grits her teeth, bracing for the cold, and nearly chokes on the scent of cigarette smoke nearby.

As she approaches the parking lot, a cloud of smoke presents the nearby offender, no doubt leaning against the pillar. She cranes her head in an attempt to see who it might be, but the view is blocked.

She shrugs it off and continues to walk, not caring enough to investigate further. She has to get home and out of this wretched cold. November is off to quite a frigid start.

“Y/N?” A voice undoubtedly coming from the smoker calls out to her.

Y/N freezes in her tracks. She should just ignore him and keep walking, but her body won’t let her.

“Y/N,” the voice calls out again and Y/N turn over her heels. She finds Eddie leaning against the pillar, one leg bent, foot pressed against the cinderblock. He drops the cigarette in his hand and lowers his foot to stomp it out. His hair shakes and the chain on his jeans jingle in the process.

Y/N’s throat dries as she nervously watches him, still very frozen in place.

Eddie cautiously walks, no struts, over to her, reeboks stomping against the pavement in the process, and offers her the smallest smile. Even after all this time, just seeing him like this is enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Shut up heart, It’s just Eddie.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers in a raspy voice, peering deep into her eyes.

“Hey,” Y/N squeaks, surprising herself by returning his strong gaze. She hasn’t spoken to Eddie in weeks.

They stare blankly at each other for a moment before Y/N is the first to break the silence. “What are you doing here?”

“Needed to clear my head,” he shrugs casually.

Y/N cocks an eyebrow up, “On school grounds, when last class let out an hour ago?”

Eddie shrugs painfully, “Yeah.”

Y/N gives him an unconvinced look.

“Was supposed to be at Hellfire, but I cut the meeting short.”

“Oh,” Y/N whispers, “What happened?”

Eddie presses his lips together, “The boys were just… their heads weren’t in the game, you know?”

Not really, but she nods as if she does. The tension in his eyebrows and clenched jaw tell her it wouldn’t be such a good idea to poke the bear.

“What about you?” Eddie asks.

“Tutoring,” Y/N meekly responds.

Eddie nods and notices the way Y/N tightens her arms crossed over her chest and the slight shivering of her shoulders.

“You headed home?”

Y/N turns over her shoulder and nods at him.

Eddie reaches back and scratches at the back of his neck. “Could I, uh, give you a ride home? If that’s okay?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Y/N mumbles.

“C’mon, it’s freezing out. Can’t have my local smart pants getting sick on my watch.”

Y/N slightly snorts at his comment and it brings a grin to Eddie’s face.

“Thanks Eddie, but I-”

“C’mon,” He gently grabs her wrist, “You’re off probation right?”

He winks and she surprisingly finds the humor in a joke about the longest month of her life.

Y/N nods and Eddie tugs, leading her to his van. “Your chariot awaits.”

Y/N complies in a stunned silence. As she climbs into the van, the worn seats feel foreign under her skin. They can’t be the same seats she sat in a little over a month ago.

But much like Hawkins, nothing in this van has changed, only her.

Eddie starts the car and remains stationary to let the vehicle warm up. They sit in a comfortable silence as Eddie tunes the radio to Y/N’s favorite station even though a commercial is on. Y/N refrains from smiling despite the tug she feels at the corner of her mouth.

Once the van has warmed up, Eddie pulls out of the parking lot and off to Y/N’s house. His rough slender fingers curled around the steering wheel.

The two remain in comfortable silence till they reach a stop light and suddenly, Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time comes on.

Both Eddie and Y/N instantly look at each other when the melancholy rhythm fills their ears. Before the first verse is sung, the light turns green and Eddie’s attention is back on the road while Y/N’s is on her lap. She can feel the blood pumping in her veins along the beat of the song

Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you

Caught up in circles

Confusion is nothing new

Flashback, warm nights

Almost left behind

Suitcase of memories

Time after

Sometimes you picture me

I'm walking too far ahead

You're calling to me, I can't hear

What you've said

Then you say, "go slow"

And I fall behind

The second hand unwinds

But before Cyndi can sing the heartfelt lyrics, “If you're lost you can look and you will find me, time after time,” Y/N lowers the volume to silence.

She looks up at him, “That song is…”

Eddie nervously laughs, “Yeah, ha, I know.”

He awkwardly looks back onto the road before him.

Y/N’s a bit surprised he even knows the song. She guesses no one can escape the heartfelt words of Cyndi Lauper, but they just ring too close to home, in a car ride with Eddie no less.

In a matter of minutes, Eddie is pulling up to Y/N’s house. She’s simultaneously thankful this carride is almost over and disappointed that this is all the time she’ll get with Eddie.

She looks out the window and glances at the red brick home. This time with a noticeable lack of tension in her shoulders or heart rate that would alarm several doctors. This time, she feels nothing.

She turns over and looks at Eddie who is intently observing her reaction. “Everything okay?”

Y/N nods sullenly. Eddie looks at her, waiting to see what she’ll do next.

Y/N looks out the window again and sees a few of the neighborhood children out riding their bikes. She turns back to Eddie and curves her lips upward slightly.

“Thanks for the ride Eddie.”

Eddie looks at her puzzled, but more relieved than anything that she’s not ardently avoiding him.

“No problem,” he nods, “I’ll always have your back.”

Y/N cocks her head to the side before shaking it and unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Goodbye Eddie,” she sweetly says as she opens the door.

“Goodbye sweetheart,” Eddie says. Y/N freezes for a slight second, feeling her heart constrict in her chest. She recovers by climbing out of the vehicle and shoving her bag over her back. She closes the door behind her and smiles at Eddie. He nods and waits for her to enter the home.

She slowly walks to the door. There’s no reason to rush and avoid the risk of being caught. She already has been.

She opens the door to the house and turns over her shoulder to see Eddie wave and drive off.

She steps inside, embracing the welcomed heat.

“Hey honey, how was school?” Her mom calls from the kitchen. For a second, her brain is on red alert, worried that her mom might’ve seen Eddie’s car. But as quickly as the thought enters her head, it leaves. What’s the worst that could happen? She gets grounded again? Her parents put some restraining order on Eddie?

“Hey mom. School was fine,” Y/N neutrally responds.

“Learn anything exciting?”

“Not really,” Y/N responds truthfully before excusing herself to go upstairs and work on some homework before dinner.

At the back of her head, she worried her mom might’ve seen Eddie and was just waiting to bring it up later, but as the evening turned into night, nothing ever happened.

Either she didn’t know or she wasn’t bothered enough to say anything.

***

When Friday night rolled around, Y/N enjoyed the refuge of her own bedroom, as she had for the past several weeks. But this time, she felt more restless than usual.

None of the songs on her tape deck sounded right. None of her drawings were coming out quite right. Even when she went downstairs to rummage through the pantry, none of the snacks appealed to her despite the loud rumbling coming from her stomach.

She trudged back up the stairs and into her room and decided to do something she hadn’t done in a really long time. She closed the door and turned off all the lights. She walked over to the window and opened the curtain. For a second, she almost hoped to find Eddie down below, throwing rocks at her window once again.

She brought her desk chair near the window and sat on it. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She sat in silence like that for a few breaths before opening her eyes and gazing out at the stars above her.

A lot of the streetlights were on, so it was hard to see, but the few she could, she decided to count them.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five Six. Seven.

She closed her eyes and pleaded to the stars, asking for answers as to what she should do.

The ritual began when she was a young girl, praying to God for an A on her test or for her parents to stop fighting. Over the years it turned into harder questions she couldn’t ask anyone else but the stars up above.

Something about starry skies was more comforting to her spirit than any church could ever be. Oftentimes, they had better answers too.

But tonight, there was only silence.

“Please, I need to know,” Y/N pleaded. She rubbed her palms over her face and rested her chin in her hands.

She wished the stars could tell her what to do. She wished they could give her an answer.

Ever since she’d spoken to Michelle and ran into Eddie, Y/N had been feeling conflicted. Once the heat simmered down and she served her sentence, Y/N kept laying low. School and drawing took up a majority of her time and she thought she would be fine with that. But Michelle and Eddie reminded her just how much she’d missed the people in her life.

She knows that Michelle and her other friends will always be in her corner. Sometimes she needs time alone to figure things out, but they’ll always be there when she comes back.

But Eddie… She almost lost him forever. Her car ride with him confirmed just how big that almost was, but she knows they’re on thin ice.

She looks out to the stars, hoping for an answer. They glimmer against the dark night sky, but say little else.

She wants Eddie back in her life, even if she can’t date him which she knows is impossible. But, since her parents don’t seem to be too upset anymore, Y/N’s willing to bet they might tolerate Eddie as a friend.

She knows it might take some begging and pleading, but she knows she’s earned it. And that Eddie would be worth fighting for.

But before she does any of that, maybe it would be a good idea to see Eddie and talk to him first. She knows she could call him up, but this is a conversation that needs to be had in person.

Maybe she could surprise him at the trailer tomorrow. She doesn’t know if it’ll go well, but it’s worth a shot.

***

The next morning Eddie and Y/N’s friends meet up at Michelle’s house.

“Glad you could finally show up,” Michelle greets Eddie as she lets him through the front door. “Even though you smell like an ashtray.”

Eddie huffs as he follows Michelle, “Excuse me for wanting to calm my jangled nerves.”

Michelle leads him to her room where the rest of the girls are hanging out. “Relax Eddie, we have your back. And with a few adjustments, you’ll be ready to go.”

Eddie cocks his eyebrow and looks over at the other girls milling about the room.

“Take a seat,” Michelle gestures toward her bed. Eddie cautiously sits at the edge and looks up at the other girls in confusion.

“Good to know you have a pair of pants without holes in them,” one of the girls quips as another starts working on his hair.

“Is it that hard to believe,” Eddie asks sarcastically.

“Little bit,” she winks and smiles. Eddie nervously chuckles and lets out a small sigh of relief.

“I’m not crazy about the Black Sabbath shirt though,” Michelle complains as one of the girls gently combs through Eddie’s hair.

“This is all I have. Sorry I can’t be Tom Cruise.”

“Well, you don’t need to be Tommy Lee either.”

Eddie scoffs and narrows his eyes, “You insult me.”

“Stop moving,” the girl doing his hair orders. She brings a hand to block his face and sprays water along his locks before combing through and applying a gel.

“And this jacket situation has got to go,” one of the girls comments as she glares at his leather jacket and jean vest.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Cmon, it’s the only jacket I have. It’s a part of me.”

“Keep still,” The girl doing his hair orders as she scrunches at the damp locks, creating a more defined curl to his tresses.

“Not to worry, you can still be you even without your metal uniform. I bet there’s a jacket my brother left behind that you can borrow.”

“Huh?”

“He’s off at Indiana State, so what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Eddie shrugs as Michelle rummages through the coat closet down the hall.

“At least it covers your tattoos. Y/N’s parents… aren’t the most fond of those,” one of the other girls comments.

Michelle walks over with a maroon cable knit sweater and cream colored carpenter jacket.

“When your hair is done, put these on.”

Eddie reaches out and touches the knit fabric, masking a look of disgust in his face, “I feel like I should be on the cast of Happy Days.”

“Take off your shoes too.”

“What?”

“Take off your shoes.”

“Why?”

“So we can clean them. Muddy Reeboks are very punk rock but that won’t impress Y/N’s parents.”

“Punk? Please, you insult me,” Eddie snarls. “There’s a very big difference between punk and metal.”

“Why don’t you tell that to Y/N’s parents,” one of the girls sarcastically snickers.

“Why don’t you bite me,” Eddie snarls.

“Eddie,” Michelle gasps.

“And you,” Michelle looks pointedly at the girl, “Knock it off.”

“Girls, could I have a moment alone with Eddie,” Michelle pleads.

“Fine, okay,” the girls grumble.

“I’m done with your hair Eddie. I kept it natural, but a little more defined at the curls. They’re gonna love it, and so will Y/N,” the last girl to leave pats Eddie on the shoulder and smiles.

Eddie’s shoulders relax and he smiles back at her as she leaves the room.

Michelle pulls the chair from her desk and sets it in front of Eddie. She takes a seat and tries to look Eddie in the eye despite his avoidant gaze.

“Eddie,” Michelle calls out to him. Eddie looks at her from the corner of his eye. “Look, it’s just us, okay?”

Eddie sighs exasperatedly. “What?”

“Eddie, relax okay. I know you’re nervous but–”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Then what are you Eddie? ‘Cause you’re acting really weird.”

Eddie widens his eyes and furrows his eyebrows. He turns away and reaches to scratch the back of his neck, “I don’t know man. Just feels weird.”

“What feels weird?”

“All of it. Feels like I’m about to take a test or something. I mean, this isn’t me. Changing my hair?”

“Well, your hair doesn’t look that different, just a little neater.”

“Changing my clothes?”

Michelle gazes at the sweater and jacket laid out next to him.

“Changing myself?”

Michelle’s eyes turn down.

“I know, we’re asking a lot of you. But we wouldn’t be asking this if we knew it wouldn’t make Y/N happy… We’re on your side.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows and nods.

“What’s wrong Eddie?”

Eddie shakes his head, “I mean we’re doing all this, but what’s the point? What if I’m still not good enough for them?”

Or good enough for her.

Michelle sighs and pats his knee. “Eddie, look, I don’t know you that well, but what I do know is that you’re a fighter.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie laughs.

“I’m no fighter. See this guy?” Eddie points to himself. “Textbook runner. When the going gets tough I… always seem to run.”

Michelle takes a cold hard look at him. “What are you running from?”

“What?”

“You said you’re a runner right? So what exactly are you running from?”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“There’s gotta be something.”

Eddie stares at her blankly.

“I mean, do you even want us to do this anymore?”

Eddie nods and looks at her, in a way she can’t decipher.

“So, what is it Eddie?”

Eddie can’t tell her he runs away because he’s scared. He’s afraid to fight because he’s afraid he’ll lose. That the voice of his old man still looms in his head telling him so.

“What have you got to lose?” Michelle asks.

Eddie thinks about it for a moment. He supposes there’s nothing to lose at this point. The worst her parents could say is no, again. That he’d spend another excruciating day without Y/N.

“Look, you gotta promise this stays between us, alright?”

Michelle nods and takes a finger to make a cross motion over her chest. “Cross my heart.”

“You flap your lips about this to anyone and your ass is grass you hear that?”

Michelle stifles a laugh, sensing the seriousness in Eddie’s tone. “Okay.”

“I know what people in this no good town think of me. I know it’s not great. And as much as I hate to admit, it’s a lot harder to let it roll off my back than I’d like.”

Michelle nods in understanding.

“I want Y/N’s parents to… accept me. It’s stupid and ridiculous, but I do. But I don’t want it to come at the cost of conformity.”

“Eddie, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re a surprisingly likable person. In all your dorky metal loving glory.”

Eddie chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“I think that’s why Y/N probably likes you so much. You’re someone who isn’t afraid to be themselves. And I think she is, but you show her how not to be.”

Eddie’s eyes soften at the surprising observation.

“When you’re not so guarded or sarcastic or cocky, you’re not such a bad guy. And I think Y/N’s deserve a chance to see that side of you. They might even surprise you.” Michelle adds.

Eddie thinks about it. He wonders if Y/N’s parents could truly surprise him.

“But besides that, this isn’t all just about you, you know? I mean, I know your ass is on the line, but so is Y/N’s. This is a battle Y/N’s been fighting her parents forever on and she needs our help.”

Eddie purses his lips and furrows his brows.

“So what do you say, hot shot? Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna stand up and fight for your girl?” Michelle roars

Eddie's eyes widen. He feels as though a literal fire has been sparked inside him.

His girl.

He doesn’t want to be a runner. Not anymore. He wants to be a fighter. If not for him, then for his girl.

“Alright. Okay,” Eddie nods.

“That’s not good enough. I need to hear you say it Eddie.”

“I’m gonna fight.”

“You’re gonna what?”

“I’m gonna fight,” Eddie exclaims.

“Who are you gonna fight for Eddie?”

“For Y/N!”

“And?”

“For us!”

“And?”

“Who else are you fighting for?”

“Uh, love?”

“No silly,” Michelle pokes harshly at his chest, “You’re fighting for you too.”

----------------------------------------------

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst ##stranger things fanfic #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #urfavstargirl1

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calmlypanicking · 10 months

Text

Gigglefish - a Castle Swimmer tickle fic!!

I loooove castle swimmer so much!! so i finally finished this fic i started a whillle ago lol.

750ish words, switches Kappa and Siren, fluffy, very short mention of injury in the beggining but its just like he bumped his hand into something. Enjoy!!

“Ow, crap,” Siren mumbled, trying to pull his hand free and accidentally hitting a rock with his knuckles.

“I’m back. Siren?” Kappa asked when he saw the odd position his boyfriend was in. Siren was in the cave they had been using to hide out in for a while, right up against the wall. And his arm was, gone? No, it was stuck. In the wall.

Siren took a panicked yank at his arm in a last ditch attempt to get out of the situation with some of his dignity left, but it didn’t budge.

“Siren, are you, *cough*, are you ok?” Kappa asked, couching to cover a laugh.

“I’m fine, I just, I was playing with this shell, tossing it, and it went into this crack, and now i’m stuck, and I look really stupid,” He said, blushing slightly,

“Aww, no Siren. You look handsome as ever. You're just, uhuh, stuck,” Kappa responded, giggling to himself at the predicament, but swimming closer and starting to grab his arm to help him.

“It’s not that funnyhy” Siren giggled, shifting as Kappa reached up to grab his underarm to pull.

“Yes it is, you're literally laughing too.”

“Not beca- because of thahat.” Siren laughed again, twisting as Kappa continued trying to pull his arm free.

“Oh yeah sure, then what are you laughing at, your highness?” Kappa asked sarcastically.

“Yourhe tickling mehe!” Siren squealed in response when Kappa's fingers drifted lower towards his ribs.

Kappa paused, looking contemplative. “Tickling?”

“Yehah, you were tickling me.”

“What’s tickling?” Kappa asked.

“What? You don’t know what tickling is? Its when like, your friends or whatever like, i dont know. It’s hard to explain. But someone touches you and it makes you laugh.”

“Touching makes me laugh?”

“Yeah, if you’re ticklish. Most mer are, some aren't, though.”

“So you’re, ‘ticklish’?” He asked, a small mischievous glint in his eyes.

“W-well yeah, but you probably are too, see?” Siren reached his free hand out and gently grabbed Kappa's side, smiling when he immediately folded over himself in giggles. “Now would you help me out of here, gigglefish. I’d like to have my arm back before it goes numb.”

“Gigglefish?!” Kappa gasped, “You’re the gigglefish, mister!” He said, reaching out and scribbling at Siren’s ribs again.

Cackling, Siren squirmed and pulled, trying desperately to avoid the quick hands that were steadily moving closer to his stomach. Once Kappa reached his stomach, he squealed and promptly pulled his arm free, landing on the sandy ground.

“Ohoho my God! That was so cute!” Kappa squealed, coming closer to watch his boyfriend continue riding out his giggle fit as he desperately tried to rub the tingles off his stomach.

“Noho, it was not!” Siren protested through his giggles.

Kappa swam closer, smiling at his boyfriend laying on the sand. “Sorry to say this Siren, but that was, in fact, very cute,” he said with a faux serious expression, but Siren could still see the glint in his eyes and the way he couldn't quite stop smiling.

“I’ll show you cute,” Siren replied, quickly getting up and tackling a very surprised Kappa to the seafloor.

“Sihirenn!” Kappa laughed as Siren once again targeted his sides.

Lightening his touch worked wonders, he realized, as he started gently scribbling against the spot. The lighter touch resulted in Kappa falling into tittering giggles and desperately grabbing onto Siren’s hand.

“You’re not pushing me away?” Siren asked as he continued his gentle torment.

“Aham I suhuposed to?” Kappa asked, his voice pitching up at the end because of Siren moving to his stomach for just a moment.

“Uh,” Siren started, slowing his tickling but not stopping completely. “I guess not? I mean, lots of mer do, but it’s okay if you don’t. It’s actually pretty cute,” he smirked, moving closer to the blushing boy’s face.

“Why do they push it away? I think it’s fun!” Kappa smiled, still holding Siren’s wrist even though he wasn’t tickling. “Am i- am I not supposed to like it?” he asked, expression faltering.

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with liking it, its just not as common I guess. But I like it, to a point. It's nice to be close and have a reason to laugh. And I definitely like that you like it. That gives me an excuse to tickle you more.”

“So… you can keep going then?” Kappa asked hopefully, squeezing Siren’s wrist, and his heart at the same time.

“Of course,” he paused, then smirked as he leaned closer to Kappa. “Anything for you, gigglefish.”

#tickle #tickle fic #tickl fic #castle swimmer #castle swimmer tickle #lee! kappa #Ler!Siren #Ler!Kappa #Lee!Siren #tickles #tword community #tickl #tickle community

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normal-person-i-promise · 4 months

Text

Bad Apple

chapter two

Nightmare's tentacles gently close the doors as he makes his way to you, steps confident, hands behind his back.

When he reaches for you, he tilts your head up to meet his eyes and presses his white teeth to your forehead, dripping the black sludge all over you. The rumbling starts anew from within his hollow ribcage, the warm sound loud enough to echo through yours. He brushes a hand down the side of your face, tender and loving, before he pulls you into a crushing hug, tentacles encircling you, pressing the air — and your cries — out of your lungs.

Petting your hair, he says, "You have no idea how much I've missed you, my love."

that scene inspired by that one drawing by itsxroxxanex. you know the one

same ao3 link btw

dreamtale belongs to jokublog, killer sans belongs to rahafwabas

× × ×

When you wake up, it's wet. Wet and cold.

You don't quite remember falling asleep on something with this kind of consistency, this chill that sent shivers down to your bones.

Though your eyes were still firmly shut, clinging to the last bits of sleep, you could feel... Things coiling around your body, the very same wet and cold being present on them. Everything was wet and cold.

It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

There's a deep, gentle rumbling from behind you, resonating through your body as you languidly blink open your sleepy eyes, and—

Where are you?! It was beautiful, yes, but—

"Finally awake, doll?" Nightmare's low tone fills the room you lie in, his voice reverberating through your ribcage from where your back was pressed up against him.

You'd nearly forgotten about him.

Your eyes flicker down to your body where his tentacles caressed your skin, entwining themselves in your limbs, securing yours to his. Preventing you from leaving. You instinctively struggle — though in vain — as the jet-black tentacles flex, elongating as they bind you to Nightmare.

"Leaving so soon, love?" You feel him press a bony cheek to the top of your head, nuzzling it into your hair, making the rumbling grow even louder — growing in tandem with your mounting discomfort.

You freeze when you feel his sharp, pitch-black hands caress your arms, feeling every inch of the skin on them as he brings the black phalanges up and down them in a slow, rhythmic motion. Every once in a while, he'd pause to trace small circles on your skin, leaving trails of black, viscous muck in their wake.

You nearly vomit.

The smell was horrible, a disgusting blend of food gone bad and rotting carcasses. It smelt wrong, like it shouldn't be in this state, and that it should smell pleasant and sweet — like how he used to, before...

You attempt to get away again as your limbs twist and turn against their black bonds, but the movements only make Nightmare tighten them. He breathes a sigh, your struggling doing nothing but increasing his sick pleasure.

You stop for a moment — heaving from your futile attempts at freedom — when you feel his sharp fingers gently rake through your hair, pressing strands of it to his nose every once in a while to breathe in your sweet scent, taking in slow breaths one after another.

He tenderly brings the back of his hand down the side of your face, contentedly sighing and shutting his eye as you squirm in his grasp.

He sits there for the longest time, unmoving — and when your muscles grow numb and your limbs feel heavy from struggling, Nightmare grins, the thin smile characteristically splitting his face nearly in half as his eye narrows in contentedness, not unlike the crescent moon.

You're tired now.

You feel him pressing his teeth affectionately against the back of your head, like a kiss, as the tentacles loosen, and— He's spun you around so that you're facing him, kneeling in his sharp, bony lap, your faces inches apart. The tentacles promptly tighten around you as soon as Nightmare moves, squelching and dripping as they coil around your body.

You look at him for only a moment, though it was all you needed.

There's a look of mania in his eye, blown wide — a sadistic sort of love that could only be satisfied by painful screams and tearful eyes.

By suffering.

You pointedly avoid Nightmare's piercing gaze as your eyes look everywhere but him, heaving heavy breaths as you press a hand to your mouth the keep the bile inside you.

He grips your shoulders tightly, leaving small indentations on the surface of your skin where his sharp fingertips lay as he stares into you, practically looking through you, his teal eye light a soulless imitation of a beating SOUL as it glowed like the moon on a dark summer's night. He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, shakily breathing as his whole body shudders to accommodate the slow, laborious breaths he took one after another.

That gentle rumbling grows even louder, impossibly so, just about shaking the bed you both lay on.

Sitting like this feels even worse than just now, what with Nightmare's fingertips digging into you and all eight of his limbs wrapped securely around you, making it hard to breathe.

...

Alright.

You're going to push against him, free yourself, and jump out of that window you saw.

Again.

After all, how high could you possibly be?

You take in a breath before you shove him away, freeing yourself from his surprisingly limp grasp and bolting for the window, adrenaline once again nulling the pain of your aching limbs and broken leg.

Pushing open the great panes of glass with such force you nearly fall out, you see...

Nothing.

Of course, there were black blobs, likely the rest of the building, but the rest was hidden by... Fog, glowing dimly under the light of the moon.

There was no ground.

You draw back slightly when pain erupts from your leg, clenching your hands and letting out a scream of pain as you vomit.

You can't escape in any way other than death.

The bed behind you creaks as Nightmare brings his weight off of it, his footsteps growing louder and louder.

"You would have never escaped my arms if I had so wished, darling."

You feel a bony finger find its way under your chin, gently turning your head and tilting it up, forcing you to stare into Nightmare's eye.

"What kind of lover would I be if I didn't let you breathe?"

His smile was gentle, even empathetic, but his eyelight, SOUL-shaped as it was, was full of a sort of... Madness, an insanity so inconceivable that no one should even be able to get a taste of it, but... There he was, staring at you with an adoration in his eyes as his expression turned fond, eye socket going half-lidded as he grinned wide.

"You're never leaving."

His voice was inappropriately warm and loving, the sort of voice you would use to say the words I love you.

Letting go of your chin and looking out to the fog, he absentmindedly added,

You're dead if you fall."

He chuckles at this, the low sound echoing through the quiet air.

As soon as the words register, you just.. Stare off into the distance, Nightmare turning to you with a sadistic grin on his face.

"I just love it when you're in pain."

Saying this, he bends down to your height, cupping your head in an inky-black hand and drawing a finger across your cheek as the tentacles wound around your limbs.

...

You've had enough.

You square your shoulders as Nightmare brings his hand away from you, tears streaming down your cheeks and falling into nothingness.

You shove him harshly.

Nightmare definitely wasn't expecting that, judging by how much he was set aback — tentacles slipping off your skin as he stumbles on his feet, all eight of his limbs worked hard to get him balanced again.

He looks up at you slowly, eye socket narrowed and grin having vanished.

"You wanna act like that?"

His bony lip curled, brow bones lowering with irritation.

"Fine."

He turns on his heel, tentacles trailing behind him as he briskly walks to the great double doors. He slams them shut loudly, the sound echoing through the empty room you stood in.

You hear the sound of keys turning, no doubt Nightmare locking your only exit.

His footsteps fade away until it's dead silent.

× × ×

It had been days since Nightmare locked those doors — days since he had taken away your friends, taken away your family, taken away your freedom. You hadn't had anything to eat since then, the only thing entering your body being water, supplied by what you hoped was an infinite fountain in the bathroom.

The only thing you did other than figure out how to walk with that piece of wood on your leg and stare longingly out the window was scrub at your clothes in a futile attempt to get the horrid smell off. It never went away, no matter the amount of soap and the intensity you scrubbed at it with. At least there was sort of a crutch you could use to walk, a roughly hewn piece of wood level with your elbows that you found leaning against the chair.

It's when you're looking out the window that you hear hurried footsteps growing louder, urging you to get up from your chair, pulling away from the view — the sound growing closer... Closer...

The sound of locks being rapidly undone fills the room as you back into the corner, your form shrinking defensively as the great double doors burst open and you see a skeleton, just like Dream, stumble into view.

Terror was all you felt. He (you assumed) does not look friendly. Black streaks of what you guessed were tears running down his bony cheeks, eye sockets devoid of any light, the black sockets widening when they met yours — oh! There's a pinprick of white light in the left socket, the tiny light flickering in and out of existence as it almost struggled to keep itself alight. He was wearing an unzipped blue jacket with a fur hood, a black turtleneck beneath it. A mangled red thing floated in front of where his SOUL would be in his ribcage, the thing glitching and warping every now and then. Shorts covered his legs until his knees, pure white except for the streak of black running down their sides.

He steadies himself, grinning widely as his eyes narrow, full of amusement. He raises a brow bone, head (and body) tilting to one side, a bony hand adorned with a black fingerless glove coming up to cradle his chin.

"what do we have here...?" His low, pondering voice is full of mirth, its cheerfulness unexpected to be found in a place like this.

You're shaking as his face scrunches in concentration, probably deciding whether or not to kill you.

"a... human?" His tone is confused, no doubt about the fact that Nightmare, the big scary bad guy, keeping a random human in (what is basically) his attic.

Your voice wasn't used to talking, having not been used for far too long.

"I'm... Yeah." It hurts to force the words out as you avert your eyes, choosing instead to stare intensely at the floor as the skeleton stands up straight from the corner of your vision. He walks towards you, his strides long and sure, extending a hand for you to take and leaving it hanging in the air.

Silence.

Then,

"don't you know how to greet a new pal?"

Hesitantly, you bring a hand up to his, shrieking and nearly fainting when a loud fart noise erupted from where they contacted.

He laughs, throwing his head up and grinning wide as the low baritone fills the room and vibrates your bones.

Wiping away the black tears, he looks back at you when his laughter subsides.

"heheh... the old whoopee-cushion-in-the-hand trick. it's always funny."

He tilts his head again.

"a human, huh? that's hilarious. i'm—"

"KILLER!"

Undoubtedly, that was Nightmare's voice, full of rage.

There's a loud stomping as his feet climb up the stairs, growing louder every second. The skeleton's, who you now knew as Killer, eyes widen in alarm, panic evident on his features.

When Nightmare finally reaches the entrance to the room, he's furious. His eye is narrowed, nearly closed, his white teeth set in a hard frown, displeasure written all over his features. His tentacles were spread behind him, writhing, making him look much bigger than he actually was.

It's nearly impossible to not run and jump out the window right there and then.

But the moment he lays his eye on you, he visibly relaxes, shoulders drooping and brow bones unfurrowing just a little, the tentacles appearing to soften as their movements stilled. He stares at you for a few moments too long before begrudgingly dragging his eye back to Killer, the irritated expression appearing once more.

"Leave. Now." Killer comically salutes at Nightmare's order, sweat beading down his forehead as he makes a break for it, the suspicious sound of someone falling down stairs echoing through the stairwell.

Nightmare's tentacles gently close the doors as he makes his way to you, steps confident, hands behind his back.

Petting your hair, he says, "You have no idea how much I've missed you, my love."

He shudders as you shake in his arms, pulling you even closer — as if you weren't close enough — and trembling, his shoulders rising up and down with each shaky breath he took.

After too long, he releases you, bending down to your height.

The tentacles feel your skin as he stares lovingly into your eyes, analyzing the faraway look in them with hands behind his back. As he does so, that SOUL-shaped eyelight comes back, beating and alive.

"Shall you eat? I believe your punishment has been sufficient."

The thought of food makes you salivate as you try to remember the last thing you ate, struggling. It has been far too long since you had eaten.

Upon seeing the look on your face, he grins thinly with a lidded eye, tilting his head a little and raising a brow bone.

"Hungry, doll?"

You look at him for a second before nodding your head frantically.

He pulls away, tentacles reluctantly leaving your form as he walks to the door, chuckling as he looks over his shoulder at you, saying,

"I'll be back, darling."

His tentacles unwillingly leave the room just before the door closes with a click, locking them.

You wait patiently at the little table in your room, busying yourself with studying the intricate engravings in the black glass, the swirls reminding you of how those black apples looked like, winding and twisting into infinity.

The door's locks click open one after another before eventually the doors themselves open slowly, drawing your attention to them as Nightmare emerges holding two hotdogs.

"I... Apologise for the quality of your food. This was the only thing those fools could prepare quickly."

He scowls at nothing in particular.

You practically fall out of your chair in your haste, snatching a hot dog from Nightmare's hand and shoving it down your throat.

It was absolutely heavenly, the flavour exploding in your mouth as you swallow bite after bite.

It's gone in a minute.

You're satisfied; full, as you sigh in contentment, leaning back in your chair.

Nightmare looks at you fondly, gaze softening once he catches a glimpse of yours, the thin grin he wore growing warm upon seeing your happiness.

Placing the other hotdog on the table, he saunters to where you stood, proceeding to smooth your hair, bringing a chunk of it up to his nose and shakily taking a deep breath, basking in the scent of you. He stares at you as he does so, his piercing teal eye making you uncomfortable as his tentacles make their way around you, entwining themselves around your arms and finding their way between your fingers.

A crash comes from beyond the door, Nightmare's calm expression vanishing in an instant as an irate one replaces it.

"And that would be... Forgive me, my dear, but I must leave now."

Holding your head with a hand and brushing your cheek with his thumb, he pulls the tentacles away and turns, quietly closing the double doors and locking them securely.

He left the other hot dog.

You stare, once more, into the distance from the glass window open wide, looking at nothing in particular.

You go to the bathroom, intending to freshen up (you feel horrible), washing your face with the cool water. Looking into the ornate mirror, you see a tired reflection staring back at you, eyes bearing dark circles and your hair untidy and unkempt. You don't remember having any good sleep. It was always the hunger, pressing into your stomach and sending waves of need through you, or the nightmares you always had every night, making you wake up in a cold sweat.

Well, at least the stars were always there, blinking and twinkling back at you as you vent your frustrations, as if trying to comfort you. You'd talk to them more often than not — and when the moon was out, you'd talk to that as well.

The following morning, there was a knocking on your door.

You weren't doing much; just staring out the window as usual. A knock meant food—!

The door opens slowly, a black tentacle making its way in, then another, then another, until Nightmare was standing in your doorway, clutching a plate of what looked like stir-fried hot dog sausages with bread, as well as what you assumed was a sandwich.

Nightmare walks to where you sat on your chair, placing the plate of food on the table in front of you, kneeling to your height. When you look at him, he's just staring at you, teal eyelight boring a hole through you as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

His black, bony hand comes up to your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He sighs longingly, watching you squirm in your seat as he intrudes more and more into your personal space. He's nearly sitting on your lap now, arms on both of the armrests. he traps you in your chair with his tentacles and arms acting as the bars to your cage. You swallow, averting your gaze as he brings his face close to yours and kisses your forehead lightly, reluctantly pulling back as he heaves a long sigh, eye socket still firmly shut in euphoria.

When he pulls his body away to admire you, you see that his teal eyelight is a SOUL again, beating to the rhythm of something that wasn't there, replaced by an inky black apple. He brings his hands off the armrests as you sigh, relieved, before Nightmare immediately picks you up from the seat and sits in it himself, settling you into his lap, arms securely wrapped around your waist.

He leans his head against your shoulder as he sighs once more, staring at you, leaning more heavily.

He moves, resting his head against the top of yours, the rumbling starting once more as his tentacles wrap around your arms and he delicately laces your fingers with his.

You stay in that position for too long, and you had a feeling that he wouldn't have left if there was no shout of his name from beyond the door.

That was almost always how he left, reluctantly leaving your side as the tentacles trailed off of you, locking the doors.

You ate your food, the hot dogs criminally unseasoned, then spend the rest of the day until lunch staring out the window or scrubbing at your clothes.

The sandwich wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst, either. Just a simple grilled cheese. A pretty filling lunch.

When evening rolls around, you shower before Nightmare enters the room once more, this time holding a plate of fried rice.

"Freshened up, I see?" He looks you up and down, seeing how the clothes he chose for you fit you. They were soft cotton, a lovely cream-coloured nightgown that fell halfway to your ankles.

He sits down in the chair, his tentacles coiling around your arms and dragging you to him, where he forces you to sit in his lap. And there he stays, for an indefinite amount of time, resting his head against the top of yours as the rumbling shook your body, tentacles and arms wrapped around you tightly.

Every minute or so, he'd bring a hand from your waist to your cheek, brushing it down the soft skin of your face gently, sighing.

Of course, there came the shouts.

The tentacles' movements stiffened, his whole body going rigid.

He attempted to ignore it before the shouts came again, louder and more urgent.

He stands up, you in his arms, and lays you gently down in the chair.

He caresses your cheek again before excusing himself.

You ate the fried rice, also criminally unseasoned, and brushed your teeth before going to bed.

And that was the routine.

Every morning, Nightmare would come in bearing your breakfast and a packed lunch. He'd hug you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, but would leave quickly, saying he had "important business" to attend to as the shouts would grow louder and louder.

Every night, he'd come again, delivering your dinner, and would hug you in bed, whispering sweet nothings into deaf ears. He'd sleep with you sometimes, caging you against him, though you always complained of the wet and cold, of the muck that coated every inch of his body. This also meant you never really slept with him as much as he slept with you.

Nightmare was the only social interaction you had ever since being taken here, other than the stars and the moon — and though they never replied to you, it was comforting, in some strange way, to not hear them speak. It was almost as if they weren't judging you, acting simply as a listening ear. On occasion, you'd hear the melancholy melody of a song, the gentle plucking of strings soothing to your ears.

This cycle went on for a long while — you couldn't tell how long, the minutes blended into hours and the hours blended into days — until you decided to try something. That morning when he came in, placing your food on the small table, you fall to your knees, pressing tightly clenched hands firmly to your forehead, praying this would work.

You bow your head a little.

"Please, Nightmare. Let me out. Even for a moment." Your voice wavered — a shaky, miserable version of your usually sunny tone, full of pleading and a need to get out.

Nightmare takes in a breath sharply, tentacles' movements stilling as the sound of your soft voice cut through the still air. There's a long silence, before—

"That's more like it."

Looking up from beneath your lashes and through your fingers, you see Nightmare leering at you through a half-lidded eye socket, that SOUL shape having returned once more, beating fervently. His hands and tentacles were behind his back, merely appearing to be calm — but his shuddering breaths and tense shoulders gave away his intense elation, anticipating more.

"Alright then, doll." You look up at him, excitement flowing freely through your veins.

"On one condition."

He stares at you, half-lidded eye socket full of a sadistic excitement as his tentacles squirm and slither excitedly.

"Anything."

You say as you stare right back, hopeful eyes wide. He takes a hand from behind his back, and from within the muck that made up his hand, he produces a... Bracelet...?

...

Oh.

It was a pair of long chain handcuffs made out of black steel.

Nightmare grins at you, eye socket narrowing in delight at the expression on your face — a mix of shock, fear, surprise, and regret.

You stare, dumbfounded, as he fastens one cuff to his left hand, looking at you expectantly. It's barely a second before you scramble off the floor and offer your right hand to him all too willingly, his tentacles bringing you closer to him.

The cuff fastens with a click, securing you to him.

He leads you to the door, your freedom—!

And proceeds to pick you up bridal-style, carrying you effortlessly down the stone steps, your body bouncing up and down with each step he took.

The spiral stairs felt like they went on for forever, more steps always waiting whenever Nightmare turned the corner.

There was a deafening silence that blanketed the air around you, all quiet except for the sound of Nightmare's muck falling off his non-existent bones to the cold stone steps.

The smell of moss and dampness fills your nose as you wrinkled it, getting closer to the exit as you began to wriggle in Nightmare's grip.

"Okay! Nightmare—"

He stops abruptly, the chain that bound him to you making a gentle tinkling as it flew about in the air.

There's a creaking of a great door, and—!

You scramble out of Nightmare's grip as you practically bound down the black halls of the castle, forgetting about the handcuff until you're stopped short by it, the sharp, cold metal digging into your wrist and making you cry out. You cradle your wrist as Nightmare calmly walks to where you stand in pain, hands behind his back.

He watches with a disgusting pleasure as his grin widens, the tentacles' movements growing until they're sending black muck flying everywhere in ink-black droplets.

He was everything but calm, regardless of how he appeared.

"Be careful, doll."

He leans down to your height and takes the hand the cuff is fastened around, lowering the black steel and licking the abrasion, sending shivers down your spine.

He licks the bone around his mouth, his eye socket half-lidded and content — but with undertones of want, a beast-like hunger set in his teal eye light.

"You could get hurt."

You snatch your hand away from him, wiping the black saliva that coated it onto your shirt as Nightmare just laughed, maintaining full eye contact with you as his mouth opened wide and peals of laughter took silence's place in the air.

He turns on his heel and pulls harshly against the chain, making you jerk in his direction before begrudgingly walking alongside him.

Your steps echo through the empty castle halls as you stare at the great stained glass windows portraying stories of him and Dream through their life. On the left were portrayals of mostly Dream, typically him and Nightmare spending time together.

The windows slowly but surely lost Nightmare altogether, becoming images of Dream helping people or fighting them.

On the right side, Nightmare dominated the stained glass, the same images being present at the start, though his side just got darker and darker until Dream was gone. Every single one of them portrayed him destroying something, whether it be people or whole worlds, from what you could understand.

You're only pulled out of the story when you round a corner and the stained glass disappears, replaced with an ornate door.

He pushes them open, and the sight of a thousand books greets your eyes, every single one of them settled nicely into beautiful wooden bookshelves. There were soft woollen carpets on the floor, lounge chairs and coffee tables strewn about. Ladders leaned against the tall shelves, lined with silver.

You stare with eyes full of wonder while Nightmare watches you, a content smile on his face.

"You like it, doll?" He looks down at you, his hands behind his back.

You don't answer, instead choosing to run to the shelves and skim the names, choosing one to read.

#I FOUND THE EM DASH #IVE BEEN USING A MYSTERY DASH UP UNTIL NOW #killer is the comic relief tbh #what does nightmares castle even look like. im #going to disintegrate #can you tell i really like hotdogs #i dont think its hard to guess whos at the window. im not very good at subtlety #is the. is the hugging bit too long #feels like it is #cut it down a lil bit #sans x reader #dreamtale #nightmare sans #nightmare sans x reader #words on a page

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finkinthisfrew · 8 months

Text

Anything (Pt.3)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

cw: sexual tension? lol

Chapter 3

Poking my head out of the bathroom, I walked through what must have been the man's bedroom. Not wanting to be too nosy, I quickly walked out of the room, avoiding looking around too much.

Shuffling down the unfamiliar hallway, I admired the comfort of my new outfit. I had chosen a black, very soft, and very worn-in hoodie, and a pair of warm grey drawstring sweatpants that pooled at my ankles, adorned in thick white knit socks. It all smelled so comforting- something warm and spicy mixed with something else familiar that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

The concrete walls and ceilings continued through the hallway, but the floor was charming old hardwood. A few photos adorned a long rustic console that ran along the hall. I couldn't help but look at them- one of someone who was most likely his mother, another of him with his arms around three men, and a photobooth strip of him with one of the three men from the previous photo. My heart dropped a little at the bottom square, a picture of him and the other man kissing.

Of course, it had to be too good to be true... I thought to myself.

But I thought back to the moment we shared in the bathroom. There's no way I was the only one that felt whatever that was back there. Or was I truly just concussed?

I continued down the hall and stepped into a breathtaking room.

I stared at the giant wall entirely made up of gridded windows. Beyond the window wall was a patio full of greenery- a private little oasis. The ceilings soared in the giant room that housed what looked like the kitchen, living room, and dining room. The decor was artistic and modern while still looking homey and lived in. I nearly bumped into the vintage pool table that sat to the left of the doorway, I was so breath taken.

It became even more unbelievable when I remembered that we were supposed to be above the coffee shop.

"You look lovely." I turned to see the man smiling cheekily behind the kitchen island as he plucked ice cubes out of a tray and into a bag. He was now wearing a brown striped knit crewneck with black trousers. His wet hair was pushed back into a ballcap. He looked so effortlessly handsome. I smiled back at him as I momentarily thought back wistfully to when I could see his tattoos through his shirt.

"How are you feeling, still cold?" he asked, his brows now furrowing as he rushed over to the couch to pick up a large orange blanket.

"A little, but the clothes and the tea are helping. Thank you for that, by the way."

He nodded his head affirmatively as he put the blanket around my shoulders. He gestured to the couch.

"You have nothing to thank me for, don't be silly. Now your burn, how is your burn?" he asked as I sat down, him continuing to bundle me up in the blanket, eyes looking up at me intently.

My heart skipped a beat. I was so touched by how caring and concerned he was. I was a total stranger to this man, and yet he treated me like kin.

"It's a lot better actually. I don't know if it's the painkillers or just that I'm going numb from the pain, but it's not nearly as bad" I said, as he winced in response.

He promptly stood up and strode over to the kitchen island, picking up the bag of ice and wrapping it in a hand towel. I saw him start to reach to put the ice on me and then stop himself, putting it in my hand instead.

He sat down in a large armchair as I put the ice on my chest, any pain I still felt immediately relieved.

"Thank you... what's your name?" I said, realizing.

A mix of emotions riddled his face. He looked slightly surprised, but pleasantly. And definitely happy. I wondered if he didn't expect me to have asked, maybe he thought I would have just left out the door after he left me on my own in the bathroom.

"Matty. Well, technically it's Matthew, but everyone including my own mother calls me Matty. And what's yours?" he asked.

"Anna. Sometimes people call me Anne, but mostly just Anna."

"Anna," he repeated, almost savouring the word, analyzing how it felt on his tongue. He smiled again. After a moment of comfortable silence, he asked "So what do you do, Anna?"

"I'm an artist," I answered. "I do a lot of different things, but ceramics is my primary medium. What about you?"

"Oh cool! I'm also an artist," his eyes lit up as he continued. "A musician, actually. I play in a band with some friends, but your art sounds much more fascinating. Your accent, you must not be from here?"

"No, I'm from Canada. I'm here doing an artist residency at the gallery just down the street from here actually."

"How long are you here for?" he asked, keenly.

"Five more months."

His face dropped a little, but before I could register its meaning, he asked "So how do you like London so far? Is this your first time visiting?"

"Oh, I love it so far! I mean, I've only been here a month, but I already love it. My apartment is great, and the studio I work out of is perfect. I haven't tried too much in terms of food, but I have tried a few places and the food's been amazing..." I trailed off, then remembered, "Oh, my cookies!"

He must have known exactly what I was talking about because he promptly stood up and walked out of the room and into the hall. A few moments later he returned with my brown paper bag. "I know what these puppies are worth," he smiled as he watched my face light up.

"Yes, oh my god, thank you! These are my favourite, and they almost always sell out" I said as he handed me the bag.

"Oh I know," he responded. "I had to tell the owner she wasn't allowed to sell me them to me anymore after I ate two a day for six weeks straight when I first moved in here."

I laughed as I opened the bag and saw the cookies were still intact, as the smell started to make my mouth water.

"Would you like one?" I offered.

"Are you sure? I know those are hard to come by."

"Of course," I scoffed. "You've taken such sweet care of me, it would make me happy to be able to repay you."

"I wish you wouldn't act like I was some knight in shining armour, as if I wasn't also the dragon that almost killed you," he groaned again into his hands. "You really are too kind. Actually..." he paused. "I wanted to ask you- would you like to stay for a coffee? The least I could do is replace the one I made you drop."

I hesitated. I was in a stranger's apartment, with a man I had just met. I didn't want to overstay my welcome. But I felt so at home with Matty. I already felt like we were friends, and he was just too sweet and handsome for me to want anything other than to have a coffee with him.

"I'd love to," I replied with a smile.

His face broke into a bright-eyed smile, my heart once again sent into overdrive from his beauty.

"You stay right there and I'll go grab us the coffees. You were drinking something iced- a latte?"

I nodded in response.

"I'll be right back."

Not more than five minutes later he reappeared with two coffees in his hands, both iced this time, which made me smile. He sat back down on the couch as we shared the cookies and continued to chat about everything under the sun. We talked about music, the type of music he made, our favourite bands, what my art looked like, our favourite tv shows, all interspersed with moments of recognition of how much we had in common. I felt like we could talk for ages, and before I knew it, I had glanced over at the clock on the wall and saw that three hours had passed since he'd come back from the coffee shop, even though it had only felt like one.

"I really should get going," I said, standing up, not wanting to overstay my welcome.

"Oh," he said following suit, his voice laced with disappointment. He tried to cover it up with a more chipper tone. "Alright then. Let me call you an Uber," he said as we walked towards the staircase that lead down to the front door.

"That's really not necessary, I can just take the tube."

"Absolutely not. I don't send my burn victims to fend for themselves on public transit. As much as I'd love an excuse to nurse you back to health again, I'm not letting you go on there in such a state," he said too busy concentrating on his phone to notice me blush at his words. He looked so cute frowning down at his phone with such determination. "Where can I send you to? Do you have a friend that could take care of you? Or a boyfriend?" his voice hitched before he said 'boyfriend'.

I shook my head with a little smile. "No, I actually don't really know anyone here other than my landlord and my residency mentor, and I don't know either of those well enough to accept me in this state."

He looked at me in disbelief.

"Besides, I feel so much better. The warm clothes and the ice have helped so much," I hesitated before I added "And your company. I think that helped a lot too. This has been really lovely getting to know you." I smiled at him and he beamed back at me with a giant smile, clearly very happy. He passed me his phone to let me enter my address and I tried not to blush as I felt his gaze on me. I could feel myself failing as my cheeks burned.

"Thank you for everything," I said as I stepped forward to hug him. He immediately reciprocated, wrapping his arms around me. He smelled of that warm spicy smell that I smelled on my new outfit, it was so comforting, almost intoxicating. I couldn't help but melt into his chest, inhaling what I knew could only be my new favourite drug. We hugged for what could only be described as too long for two people who had just met, swaying a bit as neither of us wanted it to end.

Eventually, we pulled away as he said "This really has been so nice getting to know you, Anna. You're a really lovely girl." His eyes radiated sincerity as he looked down into mine. We stood there looking at each other for a few moments, tension building. Once again chickened out and broke eye contact, dropping my gaze to his chest, the same moment I could have sworn I saw him begin to lean towards me. I was already kicking myself for it when he said, "If only I hadn't started this relationship off by pummelling you to the ground and burning you to a crisp before giving you hypothermia," he said, groaning as he put his forehead on my shoulder, hiding in embarrassment.

I laughed as I patted his back.

Eventually, he pulled his head back. I noted how I already missed his touch.

This time I couldn't ignore his lips. They were too perfect not to want to kiss. I watched as he looked up from my lips, leaning in again, just a fraction as if to ask permission. I wanted to tell him he didn't need permission. Leaning in slowly, taking in the sweet colour of his lips, I looked back up into his eyes one last time.

*DING*

His phone rang as the Uber driver arrived.

Both startled, shaken from the intense moment, we took a step back.

"Your car is here. Here, let me help you with your shoes," and before I could decline, he rushed over with my boots and offered his arm to help me step into them.

My heart swelled at how sweetly he was treating me as I thanked him.

We walked down the stairs together and he opened the door to the car for me as he leaned in one last time to say, "So if you ever need another burn, or fancy some hypothermia, you know where to find me- I'm your guy." he joked before continuing. "Or a coffee. At this point, I think I owe you a lifetime of coffee."

"A coffee would be nice." I smiled at him and savoured how his eyes crinkled as he smiled in response. We looked for just a moment longer into each other's eyes before he gave a sweet little gesture farewell and closed the car door, leaving me to gather my absolutely shaken heart after what I think had been my favourite day I'd ever had.

#matty the 1975 #matty healy #the 1975 #at their very best #bfiafl #fanfiction #fanfic #lovers #soulmates #love #tender #tenderness #caring #dati

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cosmicdumpling · 1 year

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for as long as the sun rises » park seonghwa

SYNOPSIS: Year after year, you and Seonghwa come back to the place where you first met each other. Today happens to be that time of the year, and Seonghwa decides to switch your normal routine up by making a proposal that's rather... binding.

PAIRING: seonghwa x gn!reader

GENRE: romance/fluff, suggestive, slice of life

THEME/S: established relationship, boyfriend!Seonghwa, very cheesy romance, domesticity (sort of?), travel romance

⚠️ WARNINGS: profanities, a brief makeout session, alcohol (wine)

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

➺ MAIN MASTERLIST

Like any other tourist, Park Seonghwa was after the picturesque view of the cliff-top town.

It just so happened that the moment he was adjusting his camera’s focus, you stood in front of him, the side of your face occupying his lens; windswept hair tucked beneath your fingers while you used your other hand to type away on your phone. He didn’t miss the furrow of your brows, the way your bottom lip was caught under your front teeth, the creases on your forehead imitating an obvious look of worry.

And before he could say anything else, wanting to ask if you were alright, you already took notice of the stunned tourist on your left, making you mumble a quick apology with wide eyes. Not wanting to miss the chance, Seonghwa flashed you a smile– a really mesmerizing one— and told you with a laugh that it’s okay.

That encounter was supposed to be one kept as a fleeting memory in some mere tourists’ minds, but it seemed as though fate had its own plans.

The town of Oia is popularly known for its scenic sunsets. Everybody recommended going for a lazy afternoon stroll and finding a ‘sunset spot’ as early as one can, as it gets extremely busy in the late afternoon.

But the thing was, you weren’t exactly a fan of huge crowds, nor were you really obsessed with seeing the sunset of high repute. If anything, you wanted to see how the sun rises.

For some reason, sunrises bring a huge spark of hope within you, and you’ve always made it a routine to walk outside, stand there in silence, and contemplate on how you can start anew and make life more confounding for you.

But on that one summer morning, you weren’t alone on the balcony like you were back in the city. You climbed up the crumbly cliff past the cave-like hotels, and far to your right stood the only person alongside you who chose to watch the sun rise. It takes you one (and a half) glance to realize that he’s the tourist with a cute cat-eye smile from the day before— cup of coffee on one hand, camera on the other… and a very charming smile.

All it took was for Seonghwa to lower his camera, flash you a grin and laugh, for you to know that, that very vacation will be nothing like you’ve ever experienced before.

And guess what, that cute tourist happens to be holding your hand in his hand at the very moment, five years after that fateful encounter— numbing fingers entwined with yours as you lazily walk, empty popsicle sticks in your free hands.

The 3 AM breeze feels chilly against your skin, but the gentle rub that Seonghwa places on the back of your palm makes you feel warm in a lot of ways. Swiftly, he pulls your entwined hands up, bringing your hand to his lips as he presses a chaste kiss onto it.

“That’s weird, you don’t want to grab some wine,” You mumble with a grin, kicking a pebble as you walk. “We’ve been doing that for years.”

The man chuckles, though it’s short enough to let you know that it doesn’t appear as a surprise to him, and that he’s rather aware of what he’s doing. It’s his first time refusing to grab a tipple at Santo’s Winery, which is a shocker because it’s the very thing you’d never miss aside from sunrises.

Chucking your empty popsicle sticks onto a nearby bin, he turns to wink at you. “I’ll need to keep my sober state if you don’t want us to drown in the middle of the sea.”

Promptly, you raise a brow in question, cocking your head as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“What are we going to do in the middle of the sea?” You ask, looking around though there’s not much to see in the dim of the middle of the night. “I mean, at this hour?”

The doubt in your voice almost pleads for him to not be thinking about swimming as early as three in the morning— it’s awfully chilly for that. But it doesn’t seem to be much of a problem to your boyfriend, for he only shrugs, turning his head to look up ahead at the horizon.

It’s only by then when you realize that after half an hour of what you thought was mindless wandering, he brought you to the docks, where most boats are tucked safely in the corners for the rest of the night, resting for tomorrow morning’s bookings.

Most, because one yacht decorated with fairy lights suddenly comes sailing in to stop in front of the wooden platform, and you’re pretty sure it’s not just drifting afloat all by itself.

Seonghwa lets go of your hand for the first time this evening, standing on the edge of the dock before turning his back against the broad of the horizon.

“Sail around Santorini.” He grins proudly, his smile so beautiful it’s enough to make you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

“Hwa, you—” you stutter as you walk towards him, gaze traveling past him to take a brief glance at the sailing yacht. “How did you—”

“Babe, we’ve been coming and going for five years,” He chuckles right before turning his body slightly to face the vehicle. “Making friends doesn’t sound really impossible.”

With this, a familiar middle-aged, blonde-haired man comes peeking out from the cockpit, removing his hat and waving at you.

“Ya sou, y/n!” He greets, giving you a wide grin, and your hand flies up to cover your mouth in glee.

“Nico!” You gasp, smiling widely at his presence. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, my friend!” He chuckles, giving you and Seonghwa a wink. “Now let’s get the two of you sailin’!”

Nico is one of Santorini’s many friendly locals who have grown closer to you and Seonghwa over time. He’s the same person who drove the boat you and Seonghwa toured in together when you were both ignorant of each other’s presence and identity, and he’s the same person who has witnessed your yearly visits together.

With an enamored grin, you take Seonghwa’s hand giddily and chuckle. You couldn’t even find the right words to tell him how you feel, though the smile on your face is enough to tell him that you’re over the moon about his surprise.

“You don’t have to worry ‘bout the wine, babe, you know I’ll never miss the wine.” He says, free hand ruffling your hair. “I’ve got them on board.”

Seonghwa finally pulls you to the yacht, hopping in first before carefully leading you to come down. Clumsily, you end up bumping into his chest, though you both laugh it off because he catches you, anyway.

He always does.

After having a quick chat with Nico, Seonghwa brings you to the deck, where your eyes widen upon seeing a comfortable, plush, u-shaped sofa with vintage cushion throws above it; lit candles and glasses of wine on the built-in table in the middle. Catching your reaction, Seonghwa hums and sits on the sofa, then taps the space beside him for you to slip into.

“So… you’re telling me that I’ve got a hot boyfriend, who’s spending time with me in Santorini, who prepared some wine, some early breakfast, and on a yacht too?”

You gawk, turning your head to look at Seonghwa with an impressed gaze, though he merely throws his arm behind you on the backrest of the sofa, hand squeezing your shoulder as he keeps you pressed to his chest. “Wow, I must’ve saved the world in my past life.”

“You forgot something,” He mumbles, eyes boring into yours as a lop-sided grin ever so slightly appears on his lips. “You get a sweet kiss on a yacht too.”

“Mmhm? I don’t think I—” Seonghwa cuts you off with just a little lean, pressing his lips against yours in the subtlest way possible.

You smile into the kiss, returning his kisses happily while your hand starts to find its way to cup his jaw. It’s his turn to smile, lips stretching briefly before he goes back to kissing you, deeper this time, his lips beginning to feel harsher against yours as he pulls you closer to him by placing his hand on the small of your back.

Little by little, you feel his hand loosening around your back though it goes lower, and you chuckle just when you feel him bite your bottom lip, hand quickly taking a hold of his before it could go somewhere else, and you intertwine your fingers with his instead.

“God, keep your hands to yourself, Hwa. We’re on a yacht.” You laugh after seeing his narrowed eyes, and you try to make it up to him by placing a kiss on the back of his palm.

He gives you a do-i-look-like-i-care-look (that he most probably learned from Hongjoong), unmoving from his spot, as if he’d made his mind up of wanting to do something about the tension. Even though you would never give in to him anyway— at least not in this yacht— you play along.

You raise a brow, “What if it topples down?”

“You mean what if we’re the reason there will be huge waves early in the morni—”

“You little shit—” You cut him off before he could finish, a chuckle gracing the end of your sentence when you see him laugh as well. “Nico’s just in the cockpit, you better behave.”

You mumble, free hand coming up to gently poke the tip of his nose and squish his cheek before placing a quick kiss on his forehead. Then, you situate yourself back in between his arms as you both stare at the brightening horizon in front of you. Releasing a contented sigh, you start to drift off to reminisce your memories, though you feel Seonghwa’s loving gaze on the side of your face.

A few seconds of silence pass, then you speak up in a gentle voice.

“Do you remember the day when we first decided to go around Santorini together after making friends with each other on the Balcony that one sunrise? I think I fell in love with you exactly on that day.”

Seonghwa snorts, fiddling with your fingers with a fond smile, reminiscing the memory. “After what, seeing my washboard abs?”

“Mmh, I must admit, I kind of began crushing on you after seeing those abs,” You grimace, narrowing your eyes while glancing back and forth his clothed torso and handsome face playfully. “But… I’m also not kidding when I say that I began to fall for you after spending just one day with you. You’re that loveable, Hwa. You’re just… amazing, really, in lots of ways. At that time, I felt like you’ll be so good as a lover, and that you would be so great to love. And you know what? I was right after all.”

You pause, smiling up at him with an obviously lovestruck look on your face. “Loving you and getting loved by you is one of the finest things in life others can only wish to have.”

Seonghwa feels like he wants to kiss you again, but he’s too busy repeating your words inside his head that he couldn’t help but just feel abashed for a moment. Oftentimes, he’s the one who takes good care of his friends and family, so when he hears these sort of words from you, he feels like he wants to curl into a ball and cry.

Oh to love, and to be loved even more.

“And during our last days on vacation when we told each other to come on the same day every year just to meet, for the sake of being sappy?” Your voice cuts through his thoughts, and after a few seconds of processing your words, Seonghwa snorts— the distant memory coming off as hilarious now that he thinks of it.

“That was such a ‘before sunrise’ wannabe!”

“I know! But whose idea was it?” You tease, nudging him playfully for his sappiness. He looks up at you, shrugging with no remorse, although there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

“But we made it happen anyway, didn’t we?”

“For just one time!” You laugh, throwing your head back, and Seonghwa’s shoulders jerk when he holds his laugh back in. “Your impatient ass literally couldn’t stand it after that second yearly sappy meeting of ours. Months after that and I find you knocking on my door in my hometown.”

He shakes his head, and although his cheeks and ears are burning crimson now, he feels rather proud of himself.

“What can I say? I really love you and the uncertainty of you not being snatched by another person nearer to you was killing me.” Seonghwa tilts his head cockily. “At least we’re coming back to Santorini every year together, not just having some kind of yearly meetups.”

“I know,” You say, letting go of his hand to reach over for the nicely-filled glasses of wine, taking one for yourself and handing him the other. “And for once I have to thank your temper and impatience because if you didn’t look for me and come to me on your own accord, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Cheers to Seonghwa’s temper.” He playfully says, and believe it or not, you actually toast to it. Your glasses clink and you take a sip, side-eyeing each other as contented smiles appear on your lips.

“This is new.” You mumble immediately after gulping the liquid down. “I like it.”

“It is,” He says, swirling the liquid around the glass that confines it. “Thought I’d switch it up a bit to make it even more special.”

With a snort, you lower your chin, faking a pout as you look at him.

“You know I’d take anything you give, even if it’s doing nothing but falling asleep on our floaties in the sea under the terrible heat of the noon sun and then getting a bad burn.” He laughs at your sneaky reference to today’s earlier events. “So I don’t understand what’s all this for.”

“For you.” He says, looking at you from the brim of his glass as he downs his remaining wine, right before setting the glass down onto the table. “But now that you’ve mentioned the burns, are you okay now?”

You shake your head along with a dismissive wave. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“I’ve got some—” He pauses and shifts on his seat, reaching behind the sofa to grab a little basket. “Some aloe gel here somewhere.”

He finally sees the aloevera gel he’s looking so badly for, hastily opening the lid and squeezing some onto his palm, right before slightly moving the cloth on your shoulder to gently rub the cool gel onto the sunburns.

“Thanks, love.” You say, staring at him quietly as he focuses on his self-proclaimed task. As he finishes, he places a quick peck on your forehead before returning the aloe vera bottle from its previous place

“The sun’s starting to rise,” You gasp, setting your wineglass down to rush to the deck’s front railing. Seonghwa gives Nico a nod, and they both smile at each other, your grip tightening against the metal rails as the yacht slightly moves closer to the horizon as if it has an end.

“Oh so we’re going to be a titanic wannabe now, too.” Seonghwa mumbles from behind when you extend your arms sideward, feeling the cool air blow against your skin. He wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your shoulder.

“It’s so beautiful…” You breathe, taking in the scenery in front of you.

“Sunrises signify new beginnings, don’t they?” He mumbles, eyes looking up ahead, a sly grin on his lips.

“Mmhm,” You place your arms limp atop his and rub circles on his skin.

It’s silent for a while— just the waves crashing, the birds cawing, and the low rumble of the yacht’s engine. The sky is painted with oranges and yellows, the warmth of the heat of the sun slowly creeping onto your skin.

But Seonghwa begins steadying his breathing, and before you know it, he’s pressing his chin onto the shell of your ear.

“Do you want to. . .” he trails off, and you feel his heartbeat getting quicker by the second against his chest that’s pressed against your back.

“Start a new beginning with me?”

Before you could ask further for what he means, his fingers come into view, a circle perfectly encapsulating the round of the sun as it rises— only, that above the circle is the sunrise ruby that you perfectly recognize.

You gasp, abruptly turning in his arms. He removes his arms around you and backs away a little, staring at the ring in his hand before looking back up at you.

“I’ve always thought of what to tell you when this day comes, but even after so long, I’ve come up with nothing at all.” He says, free hand coming up to bashfully scratch his nape.

“And y/n, I may sound dumb, or cheesy, or maybe both, but I just know that for as long as the sun rises, I promise you that I will be here to love you and be with you in every step of the way.”

He inhales a deep breath, and the shakiness as he does so makes tears pool at the corners of your eyes.

“For as long as the sun rises, I want to be your best friend, your soulmate, your lover, and your family. Every day, when the sun shines, I want to wake up and see you by my side. I want to love you, be there for you and with you until the end of time, until my day sets and I heave my very last breath.” He says, biting on his bottom lip as his eyes turn shimmery, lips quivering as he sighs with a smile.

“Will you…” He gulps, and it’s as if everything is in slow motion when he gets down on one knee, the sun siding with him as the orange hues that fill the sky shines before him. “Will you watch every single sunrise with me until the sunset of our lives, y/n?”

Finally, the tears come running down your cheeks as you look at the love of your life.

The one you’ll spend your whole life with, be happy and sad with, cry and laugh with.

The one who will watch all the sunrises with you until the sunsets of your lives.

“Yes, Hwa,” You give him a huge smile and nod. “I’ll marry you.”

Seonghwa finally releases the breath he’s holding and bursts into a fit of tears— though he tries his best to slip the ring on your finger and stand to pull you into a sweet kiss without shaking like a feather.

You feel it all— the rays of the sun on the side of your face, your fiancé's lips on yours, the warmth of his body, the tears on his cheeks. And you will continue to— over and over again each and every day for as long as the sun rises— and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

KIA'S NOTE: this is a repost from my old acc! i want to know what you think, lmk through my asks or through the tags! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

#seonghwa fluff #ateez fluff #seonghwa ateez fluff #seonghwa imagines #ateez imagines #seonghwa ateez imagines #seonghwa scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa suggestive #park seonghwa #ateez #fluff #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader imagines #seonghwa x reader fluff

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lucivinyl · 2 years

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in a week

pairing: lucifer x gn!reader

summary: where lucifer wrestles with grief after your death, and you try your best to help as a ghost. ~7k

note: obviously beware of the angst even though there is a bit of comfort in the end. this was probably one of the most interesting fic i’ve written and it’s essentially just my own interpretation of grief and moving on etc etc. hope yall enjoy :)

[Monday]

Lucifer felt like he was going to faint.

He had been standing outside the morgue with one hand on the doorknob for what felt like hours, yet he still couldn't bring himself to enter. His fingers were shaking slightly, and his legs were numb. Any moment now, they might just give up on him.

There were sniffles and whispers coming from the other side of the door. It was a reality that he had to face sooner or later. But maybe if he never opened the door, he wouldn't have to face it. He could hide away in a world where Asmodeus had never texted him those few ghastly words.

It was a stupid thought. A deep inhale later, he twisted the doorknob and dragged himself inside, despite the fact that his brain was still screaming no . The door closed behind him with a soft click, as if making sure that he would be locked in this space forever.

A few pairs of eyes darted toward him. The twins were holding each other up against the white wall. Mammon had his head buried between his knees, and his shoulders were so still that he didn't even seem to be breathing. The rest were standing on the far side of the room. None of them said a word, only returned to their own grieving.

And then there you were, under a white cover. He only allowed himself a brief moment of pleading before he removed the cloth. There was serenity written on your face. You looked like you were just taking a nap. A morgue is a weird place to be taking a nap in , he thought. Perhaps a shake on the shoulder would wake you up. And then you would open your eyes, and smile at the sight of him, as always.

But he knew you weren't asleep. He knew because something inside him was trembling, and there were chills running down his back even though he had his coat on.

For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to touch you, but couldn't decide on where to start. At last, he chose your hand, for the sake of familiarity. The shape of it was so ingrained in his mind that it could never be forgotten.

Your fingers were cold to the touch. Instinctively, he gave them a little squeeze to give warmth, and checked your face for signs. Any sign.

"Hey," The word slipped past his lips with a quiver. "Love?"

Of course you didn't answer, but he bargained nonetheless. He let go of your hand and moved to feel your heart. The only thing he could make out was his own racing heartbeat, stuck painfully in his tightened throat.

Mammon shifted. He was watching Lucifer's hand, hoping with him. When the latter lifted it up, his face twisted in pain, and he abruptly stood up. No one was able to catch him as he rushed out of the room.

"Mammon!" Levi called before following him out. Then it was Satan. Picking up the hint, the others promptly exited, leaving Lucifer to himself.

The room was silent, but his mind was not. A war was raging on in his head, thoughts and emotions battling each other. The only thing he could make out from the incoherent chaos was this– they're dead, they're dead. And it's my fault.

"I'm sorry," he let himself drop onto his knees, still clenching your hand, and eased into a constrained sob. "I'm sorry."

Among the voices, he also heard these : It's too soon. I could've changed this. I'm not ready to go through this again. Please. Enough. He tightened his grip around you, as if the force of his regrets and sorrow alone could bring you back. Don't leave me alone here .

It did nothing to change the fact that you were gone.

If you'd ever imagined death to be peaceful, you were completely wrong. It was, in fact, torture.

It had been Asmodeus who'd found you. He bent over your limp body and wept. The sound coming out of him stabbed at your heart like daggers. Then you watched in fear as he typed on his phone with his shaky thumbs, because you knew what was coming, and you didn't want to face it.

The guilt rising from deep within you was so real that it almost felt as though you still had a body. You would've believed so had you not been staring directly at it– unmoving, empty, a vessel. One by one, the brothers rushed in with disbelief in their eyes. You saw the exact moment the knowledge rushed up to them, and how their faces fell.

It was all because of you.

No amount of bracing could've stopped the world from crashing down when the door was opened one last time. Unlike the others, Lucifer didn't fight. He surrendered to your death like it was an old friend, like it was all that he'd ever known.

"Lucifer," you called, reaching out to touch his shoulder. There was a fogginess to your voice, and your hands hovered upon contact before it went right through him. You seemed to be underwater. "Lucifer, I'm right here."

"I'm sorry," there was a crack in his voice that you'd never heard before. The tears that escaped you were involuntary– no one could stand watching their lover cry alone. He was being torn apart before your eyes, and there was nothing you could do. Even when you're right behind him, there was a distance you didn't know how to recover from.

The space between the living and the dead, you realized, was an impossible canyon.

[Tuesday]

There was a saying that the deceased only became ghosts if they had unsettled business with the living. Mostly it was revenge, a desperate need for justice, other times it was just some undone wishes.

For you, it was a worry. You couldn't just go and leave everything behind. That's why you were roaming the halls now, hardly existing. The house was eerily quiet, the hallways choking with sadness. Every corner you turned, there was sorrow. Either that, or an emptiness that made you shiver.

Asmodeus came into the dining room for breakfast, but only Lucifer was in here. The others were still holed up in their rooms.

"What do we do now?" He asked in a small voice, face puffy and eyes swollen from the crying. It'd filled the corridors for the entire night, and wouldn't stop even as you sat next to him, leaning in just enough that you could imagine pressing your shoulders against him.

"They said before that they'd prefer home burial, so we'll do that." Lucifer said.

"Okay," Asmodeus took a broken breath. He was on the brink of tears again. "They really are gone, aren't they?"

Lucifer put down the glass he'd been holding and stood up, the chair shrieking against the floor. He wouldn't meet his brother's eyes. "Enjoy your breakfast."

You watched as he retreated to his room. On the table was a half-eaten meal.

The room was mute when Lucifer returned. The bed was unmade, retaining the state you'd left it in the previous day. When he ran his hand over the bedsheet, he could almost feel your warmth radiating off your body that took up the space next to him every night.

But your body was somewhere else now, and you would never be close to him again.

How cruel of you to have left traces of yourself everywhere. You couldn't have just gone, you had to turn this house into a history museum, a frozen time zone. Your earphones were on the nightstand next to the box of tissues. He'd put it there because you would get a runny nose in the morning. Your shoes were clustered among others by the main door, your miscellaneous items laid out in rooms. On the sofa was your jacket, in the kitchen your favorite packet of snacks, here and there, you, you, you.

He sat down at his desk and found a tiny memo in the corner. You'd surprised him with it last month as a small gesture of motivation, and he hadn't removed it since. It was your handwriting on the paper. Your handwriting, which he would never get to see again.

What did it even mean for someone to be gone? How could someone just– not exist, as if everything had simply been a pleasant dream? He thought he'd already got it figured out, but he was wrong. He didn't know anything at all.

There were tears pushing at the back of his throat. He had yet to experience the full force of the devastation, and he wasn't going to. The hurt that he was supposed to feel when one lost someone precious had been clawing at him for hours now, demanding his attention, thrashing around like a little kid. It wanted to break out, but he couldn't let it happen, because it would bring down everything with it. He didn't want to feel the fall, didn't want to hit the ground.

So he pressed down the flood and sank into work.

It was weird watching someone plan your funeral.

Lucifer had been sitting in front of the computer for hours, scrolling and jotting notes. Every now and then, his eyes would get blurry, but he blinked the water away. Nothing could beat his determination, not even grief.

The silence was so great that you couldn't wrap your head around how he could stand it. You hopped down from the desk on which you'd been occupying, desperate for something to change.

You felt your arm brush against a paper on the desk, and watched with parted lips as it floated in the air before settling. Lucifer sighed through his nose and moved to pick it up, his arm passing your invisible form.

It can't be .

Your hands were trembling slightly when you looked at the same stack of documents, contemplating. You swiped at it. The corner of the top sheet fluttered. You did another sweep, and it rolled over.

Cursing under his breath, Lucifer bent down and snatched it with obvious annoyance.

You looked down on your hands for a solid moment before the realization hit. If it had really been you who'd moved the paper, maybe you could touch other things, like–

Turning to the demon frowning at the screen, you reached for his hand, only to freeze when you caught the sole teardrop landing on the keyboard. Lucifer continued to read the words despite the fact that his eyes were clouded. When the second one came, his jaw was quivering with the sheer effort he needed to keep the sound in. Before more could be shed, he slouched forward and propped his elbows on the desk, letting only his hands hold his head up.

Within minutes, he'd managed to regulate his breathing again, and resumed the task on hand. He had always been good with facades, something that you'd always condemned. It'd taken him some time to feel comfortable enough to be completely vulnerable around you, yet here he was, once again putting on masks after masks to shield himself from the world, and himself.

Because of you. You could feel blood rushing away from your head at the familiar words. It was all because of you .

What good would it be that he knew of your existence? So that he could suffer more, knowing that you would forever be worlds apart? It wouldn't unwrite the fact that you were dead. His heart would still be wounded, stabbed, bled out.

Perhaps being a ghost was a punishment as well. The person wielding the knife had no right to comfort the casualty.

[Wednesday]

Lucifer had fallen asleep on the desk, eyes closed, lips drawing in air in a way that you almost envied. His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm, as if it was just another day with no burdens or cruel realities waiting for him. You would've believed so if not for the slight shudder in his limbs. The coat had slipped off his shoulders, and the cold was penetrating him.

" Luci, " you tried for the nth time to wake your demon, but he was too far gone in the land of nod. Sighing, you removed your cheek from the cold desk and moved behind him. If you could move the paper, maybe you could try and drape the coat over him.

The first attempt was unsuccessful. Your fingers slipped right through. The second was an improvement: you could faintly feel the density, but were too frail to grasp it.

" Okay, I've got this ," you stretched your arms and narrowed your eyes at the coat as if that would enchant it somehow. This time, you could feel the weight as it was, though not the fabric itself. You gasped in surprise, and proceeded to drag it over Lucifer's shoulder. It was roughly done and accumulated on one side, but it was better than nothing.

You stood up to inspect your work, but your knees almost gave out beneath you, and for a moment it was like floating in air. Within a moment, you regained your balance, and let out a relieved huff. What you didn't miss was the way your hand shimmered and blended into the colors in front of you.

Maybe this ghost business wasn't free of charge after all.

Gathering everyone proved to be more taxing than Lucifer had expected, but most of them listened. The keyword was most. He walked into the dining room with the delivered food to find Belphie's seat vacant.

The demon in question was in the adjacent room, curled up on the massive couch. Lucifer thought for a second that he was a kid again, small and innocent.

"Belphie," He shook his shoulder. "Come on, you have to eat."

Belphie inched away from his hand. "I can't," he whispered. "I'm sick."

"I know, but you have to at least take a bite," when he didn't respond, Lucifer touched his shoulder again. "Everyone's waiting. We have to talk about the funeral."

A strangled sob came out of Belphie's throat, followed by a slight trembling in his shoulders, but he nodded nonetheless. Lucifer let him be then, knowing that he would show up once he'd collected himself.

You didn't know which was more saddening, the quietness echoing in the room, or the size of Beel's meal. Everyone was so full with grief that they could barely eat, as if their stomachs' sole purpose was to carry around a colossal anguish.

"Are we going to plan the funeral?" Satan looked in Lucifer's direction, though not directly meeting his eyes.

"Right," Lucifer said, and dug his hand into his pocket. "I've listed out what we have to prepare. I would like to hold it as soon as possible, preferably within this week."

When his hand came up empty, he searched the other, but to no avail. It wasn't tucked under the plates, or beneath his chair, or in the plastic bag that'd come with the food. Mammon put down his fork, and it rang a clear and deafening sound. The list wasn't behind Lucifer's glass. The air was suddenly burning. He fussed around, brows knitted and impatient, as the others watched, holding their breaths.

"Did you leave it in your room?" Levi's voice quavered.

Lucifer snapped. There was frustration on the verge of his tone. "No, I'm sure I brought it with me."

"Okay." The discomfort on Levi's face was apparent.

"Look, maybe we don't need–"

"Just," Lucifer interrupted Satan's sentence, shooting up from his seat. "Give me a minute."

The latter sighed and began tapping his finger on the tablecloth.

As Lucifer excused himself to look around the room, your eyes darted to the far end of the table, where the piece of paper was hiding near Beel's seat, out of sight. You doubted that he was ever going to find it, not when he was too busy trying to stay calm and level-headed. It was the first time after viewing your body for the family to come together and talk, and he just wanted to get it over with. It was in his instinct; to hide himself away even when his emotions were written on his face like an open book.

Right now, it would only take a tiny nudge for them to topple over.

You couldn't have that.

A piece of paper was certainly easier to move than a chunky coat. You just had to pay attention to the object of desire. This time, you could feel the energy swimming from your head to your fingers. You slid it out from under the table and waited for Lucifer to come close enough to see it.

The same lightheadedness returned briefly, almost like a tease, a reminder that there's a price tag on everything you did to help.

When Lucifer walked past you, the breeze made your teeth chatter. He returned to his seat and dived into the planning, then concealed himself in his room for the rest of the day.

[Thursday]

The ear-splitting ringtone was what woke him up. He scanned the room through a haze, as if he hadn't the memory of falling asleep by the fireplace. Whatever tranquility that had adorned his rest was now gone. It was as though something gloomy and dispiriting had been lurking in the corners all night long, crouching and shuffling, and at the first sign of consciousness, they latched onto him and wouldn't let go.

How long would this go on for? You knew that grief wasn't something that would expire. It would simply grow numb with time, until it was just a residue at the bottom of the heart, only to be awakened if one stirred it with carelessness. It was a job that no one could break free of.

You didn't want to become a burden to him.

"This is Lucifer." He picked up the call, eyelids still drooping in protest. As the caller spoke, the gears in his head started to move one by one. "That's right. I made a registration."

He walked over to his desk and traced his finger on the calendar. "When's your earliest time slot?" A brief pause. "I'll take that. No, it's fine. I'll send you the details by tomorrow."

After ending the call, he picked up a pen and underlined the upcoming Sunday. You knew instantly what it meant.

Your funeral. In three days. It seemed hasty, but given that death wasn't that much of a common occurrence in the Devildom, perhaps it wasn't so strange after all.

Lucifer was still on his phone, scrolling through missed calls and texts. His thumbs tapped out some shallow responses– I'm fine , it's alright , the funeral is on Sunday . He was definitely not fooling anyone, but he had to clear the notifications.

His hands froze as he reached the bottom of the mailbox.

You have one voicemail from : MC✩

The silly symbol stared back at him. It was one of the inside jokes he had with you, and it inspired him to decorate your contact name. Something about stars and moons and brightening up the sky. You fought not to dwell on it.

He was only stationary for a few seconds, but there was a millennium packed in each one. Finally, he pressed down on the button, and sank into his seat.

" Hey Luci ," your voice came out of the speaker, a little breathless from excitement. " I know you're having a meeting right now, but I had to call and tell you this. You're not going to believe it: I just found the cursed record you've been looking for! It was a little bit expensive, but I bought it anyway, so you better treat me to something nice, okay?"

There was a semblance of a smile on Lucifer's lips when he heard your playful chuckle. The message was then interrupted by someone speaking in the background. A second later, you returned. " Alright, that's actually all I wanted to say. Don't forget to take breaks. Love you. "

He grabbed at his phone the moment the voicemail ended. Once again, a thick silence stretched around the living room, etching itself to the corners of your mind.

There it was again– that slight pout and the gradually ragged breathing, the telltale signs of incoming tears. You watched him swallow it down. It had become a reflex.

Once composed, he typed on a few things on the screen before pressing it to his ear.

Across the room, your phone rang from inside your now abandoned bag. It went on and on and on before finally dying down. Next to you, Lucifer heaved a deep sigh before speaking into the microphone.

"Hey," he cleared his throat to dismiss the rasp in his voice. "I'm… sorry for missing your call,"

His other hand fiddled with a pen. "I'm also sorry for not having been there for you. And for a lot of other things, so many that I don't even know where to start. I don't even know why I'm leaving this voicemail. You're not going to hear it. But just… indulge me for a while, will you?"

You lowered yourself onto the ground next to him, resting your head against the desk.

"It's dead silent everywhere. Everyone is coping in their own ways, but it'll get easier with time. I just thought I'd let you know. It still feels unreal. I don't think it has fully sank in yet, the fact that you're just gone. And I'm trying to dodge it, or delay it, anything that can get it out of my face. It feels like a really big slap from the universe. I–" he pushed his hair back, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't even know what I'm saying right now. Everything's so muddled in my head. It's all chaos up here, and my chest is throbbing so much I can barely take it. I don't know what it is that's inside me, but it's not just sadness, I don't think. Maybe it's all the things that I suddenly want to tell you now, or all that love that I forgot to show you. I guess at the end of the day, I just–"

His voice cracked, and he almost looked ashamed of it. "I just wanted to let you know that I'd do anything to have you back."

" I know," you answered, reaching out for his hand. Of course it didn't affect him in the tiniest bit.

"If I could just have one more day with you, I would make it right," his throat had failed to hold the wobble in his voice. "Or a minute, anything. I just really miss you."

" I miss you too, " Your own was thick with tears you could not shed.

"But that doesn't change a single thing, does it? It's unfair like that. I don't even know who to get angry at. Father, maybe?"

The bitter laugh he forced out sounded more like a hiccup. "But it'll get better. I'll make sure of it. Because I don't know what'll happen if it doesn't."

Before he could finish his sentence, he slammed his phone on the desk and threw his arm over his eyes, willing himself to calm down. It took you double the time to chase the pain away.

That night, you used all the strength you could muster to move the strands of hair out of his sleeping face. You didn't know what else you could do.

[Friday]

There was quite a number of things Lucifer had to pick up for the funeral, which were mostly flowers. He knew that white was the color most commonly seen in funerals up in the human world, but he had a feeling that you'd prefer something more colorful.

He was shoving his arms into the sleeves of his coat when Mammon came in without knocking, unsurprisingly.

"Hey," his face was tear-stricken, his hair tousled and sticking out in all directions from the amount of turning in his sleep. "I just wanted to see how you're doin', since you weren't at breakfast just now."

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"As fine as I can be, I guess," he scratched the back of his head, causing more destruction to his white locks. "Look, the others are kind of worried about you. I kind of do too, cause… Nah, screw that, we are all worried, especially about the funeral."

"What about it?"

"Don't you think it's a bit too early? I mean, we barely got enough time to order things,"

"I don't see the problem. Wouldn't you rather have everything done as soon as possible than to drag it out?"

Mammon grumbled, "That's fair. Well, if you're okay with it, then we're fine too. Also, the eulogy–"

"I'll prepare it."

"Sure." He nodded with obvious hesitation. "Do you want me to come with you? I promise not to get lost."

The hope glistening in Mammon's eyes was not hard to miss. His question hung in the air, like a silent pleading, a wish for some kind of connection with his brother.

"No, I can carry the flowers by myself." Lucifer said instead, which could be translated to: I don't know how to talk to you about your grief when I can hardly face mine .

It was bizarre living in a world that wouldn't share your grief. Despite the fact that Lucifer's life had turned into a total trainwreck, everyone else was still going by without a worry, without a frown, without so much as a dent in their mood. It was almost brutal.

Not a lot of people took notice of his presence, but for those who did, the glances they casted on him were those of pity. It made him shiver all over.

When he arrived at the shop, the florist gave him his regards, but he knew that they were only out of courtesy. Your death didn't matter to these people on the streets. The demons were still giggling at each other, the dogs still barking at each other, the sky was still intact. His house was unbearably quiet, yet the outdoors was clamorous. Was there nowhere he could go?

"Hey, can I get a bouquet of roses please?" A younger demon came inside, the slight hop in his steps indicating that he was in a hurry. Lucifer was left to count the orders on his own, but he still couldn't help eavesdropping on the panting demon.

"What's the rush?" The florist asked.

"Just grabbing something for my girlfriend. It's her birthday today," Lucifer froze as the cheerful voice went on, stinging his ears. "Man, does she love roses. She talks about them all the time."

"It's good that you remember her favorite, but you better not be late in the future, yea? Or else–"

"The numbers are correct, thank you." Lucifer cut in, placing the Grimms in front of the florist. As if realizing himself, the latter stuttered an apology only for it to go unanswered.

Carrying everything in his arms, Lucifer stepped out onto the road. He had never felt as lonely as he did in this moment.

"Where do you want the headstone to be?" The worker from the funeral home came by in the afternoon to make some prior arrangements.

"What about there?" Satan walked over to a flat piece of land in the backyard. It was an open area, so it wouldn't be overcasted by tree branches.

"Looks good to me. And the flowers?"

"Over here," Lucifer led the two away. You stayed behind, circling the plot of land. After some contemplation, you lay down there, legs straightened, one hand clasping another on your sternum, and closed your eyes.

The soil touched your back vaguely, just dense enough to hold you. There was shuffling and talking in the distance, but mostly it was harmonious– the scarce grass, the wind, the bald trees. The world felt as though it was revolving around you.

If this was what awaited you at the end of the line, you could make peace with that– given that you've finished everything you had to do here, that was. In truth, you were nowhere near done. You couldn't go without being absolutely sure that everyone would be fine.

Yet with every contact you made with the living, you could feel your existence wavering like a struggling flame. It wouldn't be long until your final farewell, so you did whatever you could do– from tidying Asmodeus' tissues by the rubbish bin to turning off the tap in Levi's bathroom. They were small gestures that meant nothing at all, but were still better than standing around.

"You good?" The worker asked, his voice suddenly closer now. You opened your eyes and saw him and Satan looking at Lucifer with a frown. The latter waved them off, his left hand leaning against the wall for support.

"You should go get some rest. I'll take care of the loose ends," Satan said.

"I don't–"

"Just go." The sternness in Satan's voice had Lucifer retrieving his retort.

His shoulders slumped the moment he was out of sight, and he proceeded to drag himself back to his room. You followed closely behind, keeping a considerable distance between your steps.

Instead of taking a break, he began tidying and categorizing the documents on his desk. The bed had been neglected for days now, and he hadn't been getting nearly enough rest. He wouldn't even allow himself to sit on the bed, as if it was some kind of disease.

He put the piles of paper on the side, not noticing that the photo frame was being pushed further and further out.

You'd seen the look on his face before, as well as the uncertainty in his movements, and the rapid blinking of his eyes. He was pushing himself to the edge. It wouldn't be long before he–

He slammed the paper down, and the force sent the frame tumbling. You all but threw yourself towards it, and caught it with your arms before it could shatter on the floor.

Your color dimmed, a sudden sleepiness washing over you. I can't go yet , you persisted.

Lucifer picked up the frame and caught a glimpse of the photo inside. The eight of you were smiling brightly at the camera. Even he was looking particularly carefree that day. On the table was a birthday cake, on your head a slanted glittery hat.

Almost with urgency, he disassembled the frame and took the photo out. His grip was strong enough that it wrinkled it, yet his eyes held no hostility towards this token of remembrance, only tender regret.

In the evening, he passed out on the couch with the photo close to his heart. When it slipped through his fingers and went under the seat, you leaned down and moved it somewhere he would see when he woke up.

[Saturday]

The paper on the desk was as blank as snow. Lucifer had been drafting his eulogy for the entire morning, surrounded by crumpled failures on the floor. Nothing he wrote was right. They were too soulless and empty, inadequate in conveying what you truly meant to him. Either that, or they sounded awkward and evasive.

"Just write from your heart" was what Belphie had told him that morning, which was something Lucifer had already known, obviously. He simply had to shove his hand inside his raw heart and grab whatever he could amidst that vicious current.

He just didn't want to take down the fences and barricades he'd built around it.

For the next hour, he drafted some more and balled up more paper, until he accepted that it wasn't going anywhere.

Perhaps taking a short trip down memory lane would jumpstart his inspiration.

He soon found himself outside your occupied room, staring down at the doorknob in his hand. It was eerily similar to when he'd stood on the other side of the morgue, bracing himself… he didn't allow himself to finish that thought. He pushed open the door, and repeated in his head: just a short, brief look .

Someone had been here before him. One of Belphie's many pillows was on your bed, Levi's hoodie forgotten on the desk. The entire room was haunted with your absence.

He took a slow tour, looking through random trinkets and items that sparked memories. A few books took up the space next to the desk, most of which you'd bought while hanging out with Satan. There were some irrelevant stickers on the bookshelf. When you'd said that you had no idea where to keep them, he'd given you a tiny wooden box. But you'd reinvented it and used it to store pieces of paper, like the receipt you got from a late night shopping, or the torn ticket from the concert you'd watched with him.

In the wardrobe was a long, crimson scarf. It had been an especially cold day, and you were shivering all over. He'd taken off the scarf and thrown it over your neck, spinning the remaining length around you while nagging about the importance of wearing enough layers. When he was done, you had a cheeky grin on your face.

"What?" He'd asked, slightly peeved that you hadn't been listening.

"Nothing," You tip-toed and stole a kiss from him before rushing away as if nothing'd happened. It took him a few seconds to untangle his head and chase after you.

In the drawer was a bundle of polaroid photos, most of which were sceneries of the Devildom. Something about capturing the moment and savoring it forever. You'd been aware of your comparatively flitting lifespan all along. Maybe that's why you were so adamant that you kept memorabilia.

He found your favorite ink pen next, then your pot of plant that hadn't been watered for days. The corner of the poster on the wall drooped and dangled, no longer held up by adhesive. There were hidden cans of dog food under the bed. You had taken it upon yourself to feed Cerberus whenever he was too busy to. There were activities planned for the upcoming week in your schedule book, complemented by doodles. The fact that you wouldn't be around to enjoy any of them tightened his throat.

He only realized the wetness streaming down his face when he saw the darkened spots on the paper. Sinking onto the side of your bed, he dug his fingers into his hair and trapped the sadness in a little white room at the back of his mind.

He was still clueless about grief, but in this moment, he knew that it was a tatoo on his heart that weighed tons. He also knew that death was a thief that stole your future.

It was the only thing that could bring an end to his love. He wasn't so sure what to do with it now that it'd succeeded.

Lucifer's breaths were shallow as he leaned forward, mumbling stop crying, stop crying on his lips like a mantra. Even when you kneeled in front of him and begged for him to let it out, he still wouldn't unclench his fists.

" How am I supposed to leave you in this state ?" You held his face with your hands– they were almost crystal clear now– and bowed your head.

[Sunday]

There were more people at your funeral than you'd expected, which shouldn't have come off as a surprise given that you were a social magnet. Some of the demons you had only talked to in passing, but they must've thought you important enough to bother coming. You were at least thankful for that.

Lucifer sure didn't go light on the flowers. As long as it was an area opened to the guests, there was guaranteed to be bouquets.

Everyone was dressed in black and talking in low whispers, sharing words of condolences. You stood by the open slot in the yard, eyes glued to your name on the headstone.

In a few, your casket would be lowered.

In a few, your body would be buried forever.

In a few, even your specter would fade.

Then you would be truly, undeniably, gone.

The crowd started shifting towards you, and you saw the casket being carried out from the funeral home's van. Levi was nearby to give them directions. Not far away, Mammon and Asmo were at the reception, murmuring to each other with seriousness. Beel and Belphie were just coming out from the house, fixing each other's outfits as they walked, and Satan was standing next to Solomon in silence.

There was only one missing.

"Where's Lucifer?" Levi asked Satan once he's done with his duty, eyes darting from demon to demon.

"I haven't seen him in a while. I think he went–"

"Ah, there he is," Mammon jutted his jaw. The rest followed the direction to find him making his way through the guests, tweaking the details in his outfit. "Man, he looks worn."

"Did he sleep at all in the past week?" Beel asked.

"No idea. It's not like he would tell us about it," Asmo sighed. "I get it though. It's already so hard for us, I can't even imagine how he must be feeling."

Beel gave his back a firm pat. "You have us."

"I do," Asmo gave him a brief smile before they headed to the very front of the crowd.

The officiant started the ceremony with the same speech he'd used in the past hundreds of funerals. Everything went on smoothly. There were rituals, readings, steady music that sounded hopeful enough to lift the mood, but not too upbeat that it would be disrespectful. The sharings were mostly uplifting memories of you, a lot of which you could recall clearly. Simeon did his best putting a few light-hearted comments in between and chased some of the gloom away.

"And now, for the eulogy," the officiant nodded at Lucifer encouragingly. He walked up to the front and nodded at everyone he could see in one brief glance.

The tremble in his hands was not hard to miss, nor was the immense effort in regulating his breath. He looked at the words he'd written, and began.

It was straight-forward. He concluded your life with perfection– your passion, your dreams, your achievements, no matter big or small. The traces you left on everyone's heart, your legacy that would live on. You rested your hands on the headstone and leaned your head against it, taking in every word that came out of him.

It went smoothly at first, but a few sentences in, you noticed the prolonged pauses between the sentences, the struggle on his face as he swallowed, the desperate attempts at concealing his tears. Mammon shot concerned glances at the others, who shook their heads at him.

Of course, Lucifer managed to hold back the flood and finished the eulogy without a problem. The guests clapped with looks of appreciation on their countenance, and the officiant moved on with the funeral.

You would never admit it, for you'd seen Lucifer working all night for the speech, but there was something amiss in his words. They were all about you, but none of them were about him.

" Lucifer, what are you feeling ?" You said under your breath. Understanding him had never been so hard.

The soil finally covered your casket, along with the many white orchids and a few keepsakes. Some of the guests stayed behind to talk. One of the demons came up to Lucifer and offered him a pat on the shoulder. "That was a flawless funeral, Lucifer. You've outdone yourself."

He smiled, and did not say a word.

Hours after the ceremony had ended, after everyone had left, Lucifer was still sitting by your grave. Night had fallen, and Mammon was peeking through the window and talking to someone else in the room. He shook his head and walked away.

"I guess this is where I can find you from now on," he mumbled groggily, head lolling slightly to the side. "It's still too far away for me."

" I'll always be– "

"Still… too far away." He repeated before finally letting his eyes close.

The backyard was no place to sleep in. You moved from your spot on the other side of the stone and touched his shoulder. " You can't sleep here, Luci. Come on ."

He didn't respond. You sighed, and closed your eyes, focusing solely on your hand until it felt heavy enough. You shook him lightly.

" Wake up, Luci ."

His eyes snapped open. You slumped forward on the ground, feeling death take hold of you again. No, not yet. Please.

Lucifer slowly got up and returned into the house, his slouched back growing smaller and smaller until it was out of sight.

He finally gave up to the protest of his body. The first thing he did after returning to his room was to toss himself onto the bed. Then he proceeded to stare at the muted wall for some more time, too weary to block the thoughts in his head.

His hand stretched out in the space next to him. It was cold to the touch. Everything was screaming at him about how you weren't here with him. The funeral was over. He couldn't prolong it any more than he could prolong his indifference. The grief was banging on the door now. It had reached a crescendo and would not stand to be concealed.

There was a burning in his nose. He could hear when the first tear struck the mattress, could feel the fortress around his heart being torn down piece by piece. There was nowhere to hide. You're gone, you're gone, you're gone .

The three words stabbed at his chest, so much that he had to clutch his shirt to distract himself of the pain. The tears fell uncontrollably. There was nothing he could do to stop his pounding head and aching face. Something inside him was fossilizing into stone. It lodged in his throat, and sounded ugly when it came out.

"I love you," he said between sobs, which meant I loathe you for leaving me.

"I love you," which meant I only want to be where you are.

"I love you," which meant I know it doesn't mean anything now, but I do love you. I just wish I could've said it more often.

"I love you." which meant I just want this grieving to be over.

He could barely make out the words coming out of him with how his body was trembling, as if in pain. He mumbled the familiar words on his lips again, and let the animal claw at his insides until he could only weep and weep and weep.

It hit him now, that try as he might, there was nothing graceful or dignified about grief.

There was something monstrous inside you. The tears were welling up and making you sick, but nothing would come out of you. You wrapped an arm around Lucifer's side and buried your face into his shoulder, desperate.

"It's okay ," you choked out. "It's okay. Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Luci– "

You let your hand hover atop his trembling one, and shook your head. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say that could reach him. His heart-wrenching sobs drowned your voice out. You could barely look at his face, contorted with sorrow.

And then you prayed, as a ghost tethered to this gruesome world. Dear God, if it matters to you at all, spare him of this pain. Bring me back to life, or wipe his memories of me, anything. Just don't make him cry anymore .

God only watched on in silence.

Lucifer was alone.

But that wasn't the truth.

You inched away from him, your arm passing through his torso effortlessly. Ignoring the dizziness rushing to your head as you got on your feet, you rushed out of the room.

Maybe there is something you can do.

By the time the brothers peeked in through the door and found Lucifer, you were already out of breath, barely able to lift yourself up from the floor by the bed. Your hands were completely invisible at this point, and you couldn't feel them anymore.

It had taken you more effort than necessary to wake them from their slumbers, and to find ways to alert them of the sobs coming from down the hallway, but you managed.

While you could never hope to comfort Lucifer, his brothers could. His brothers, who were suffering as he did, who saw him hide himself away and didn't know how to approach him.

They had known Lucifer since time immemorial, yet this was the first time they had seen him like this– trembling in the bed, face buried into the mattress, fist around his shirt like it could lessen the pain. They had always seen him as an invincible figure, a pillar that would not fall even in the darkest storm. But of course, it was impossible for him not to feel broken by your death.

"Oh, Lucifer," Asmodeus was the first to rush in, tears already spilling from his eyes. Lucifer flinched when he heard him, but didn't pull away when Asmodeus latched onto him. He couldn't. His shoulders were still shaking, and he could still taste the salty tears on his tongue.

"It's alright," Asmodeus said, his watery eyes following Belphie and Beel as they approached.

"Come on, you're soaking the bed," Belphie slipped his hand under Lucifer's arm and held him up, then wrapped his arms around his neck, tickling his neck with his bedhair.

Something akin to objections came out of Lucifer as choked sobs, but when Mammon patted him on the shoulder, he leaned against his arm and let his tears say what he couldn't.

"Just let it out, okay?" Levi took the tissue box from Satan's hand and put it on the bed, his face upturned, lips quivering. They weren't quite sure how to fit into this situation. Beel pulled the two of them into his arm, and used the other to embrace the rest.

For the first time since your death, the brothers came and grieved together. Because grief wasn't something that was meant to be carried alone. It wasn't a feeling they could just turn off. But when they were together, perhaps the bed would feel less empty.

Lucifer's breaths were thready and short. When he fell into a coughing fit, Belphie ran his hand up and down on his back. "We'll work through it. Just breathe in, and breathe out,"

The room was full of sniffles and sobs and Belphie's wavering whispers. And though all of it was because of you, it comforted you knowing that none of them was going to be alone.

With the remaining bit of your strength, you squeezed yourself into their tangled arms, and planted a kiss on Lucifer's forehead. He wouldn't feel it, but it was okay. He was going to be okay. And so were you.

"I love you ," you leaned into him, feeling the faint rhythm from his heart. It's the last thing you heard as you closed your eyes and drifted off into the gentle current.

[Monday]

Lucifer wakes up with his brothers' arms around him.

#obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #elfwrites

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zombiequeenblog · 10 months

Note

I wanna have an unhinged tea party!!!

"Dolce," he said sweetly, "please, have another sip..."

You felt your head tipped back by an insistent leather finger, a little too harshly, and the porcelain suddenly at your bruising lips gave forth a dark liquid, pouring down your throat just a little too warm. You coughed against it, some dribbling down your cold skin in the candlelight, and automatically you went to wipe it away, your already fuzzy brain soon recognizing again the bonds around your wrists, still tight and numbing your fingers as your body was becoming numb.

You heard him chuckle as he swiped that finger across your mouth for you, not too gentle so your fading mind could still spark a prickle of fear from the caring motion. "So glad you could join my little tea party, dolcezza." He promptly slapped your face in case any doubt remained of his intentions here, and you almost mourned the wasted tea with its dark promise of unconsciousness. Only a little mewl could escape you now as your chair was swung out from the table, your limp body defenceless against his dark gaze.

His cruel lips came down against your ear as he curled your long hair around it. "My desire for you has been brewing quite long enough I think, gattina. Time for your Cardinal to pour it all out..." Your fading eyes rolled up to watch him start to undo his cassock as he continued with a grin, "Ready to lap it up?"

#z writes #i just love tea okay #splash of milk please #love you missy!#unhinged #tea party

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exhaustedpirate · 8 months

Text

parent for hire

here is the fourth chapter! enjoy! (also some bad news: I am going on holidays for two weeks so, I won't be posting during that period - the fifth chapter will be up on the 25th of September! I'm sorry!) If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! As always, @kmomof4 is my saviour and I am starting a religion in her name, join me!

Chapter Four - Arendelle

word count: 13,205 words

rating: Teen and Up

tag list: @cocohook38 ; @bluewildcatfanatic ; @piraterefrigerator ; @sotangledupinit ; @booksteaandtoomuchtv

read on AO3 | prologue | one | two | three

"You failed, Huntsman."

The Queen's mostly elegant demeanor seemed to crack before his eyes. His heart in her hand was held in a tight grip, the pain constant even as he kept standing.

"I aimed towards the man, I didn't see the other until it was too late," he tried to explain.

"But, you're in luck," she interrupted. The drastic change in tone, as well as her wide grin, startled him. "Your mistake might just be my fortune."

"What?"

"You better hope she dies, or you'll take her place," Regina sneered.

Still confused, he watched as Regina turned back to the mirror who replayed the figure being hit by the poisoned arrow time and time again.

---

About a year after meeting Nemo, the Captain had let him sail the Caspartine alone. Killian had been flying supervised for a few months by then, observing for much longer, and the older man had felt confident that he was ready.

It had gone successfully, Killian focused on the helm and the winds, while trying to ignore his Captain's orders towards the other crew members. He was determined to do it right.

Killian remembered how his fingers had gone numb around the helm, his jaw clenched to prevent his teeth from chattering. He remembered the warmth he felt when Nemo had placed a heavy jacket over his shoulders - a heat that warmed his chilled body but also his heart. He remembered the care when Nemo urged a pair of gloves on his freezing hands.

But most of all, he remembered the hand on his shoulder that banished the cold.

Killian had witnessed first hand just how frigid the northern air could be when sailing up in the sky, but down here, trekking up the mountain, he could feel none of it. His blood burned hot with fear.

His coat was wrapped around Emma as her body slumped more and more over Henry's body on top of Roger. She spent more time unconscious than conscious now. Her mask had come off mere hours after she’d been shot, claiming shortness of breath. Once she could breathe a little bit easier, she made a mocking comment about the Lost Ones' sense of style, but promptly passed out before either of them could ask what she meant.

With her mask gone, Killian found himself often distracted. To be able to see her eyes, to witness the emotions she thought she was hiding reflected in their fetching green depths, had already been enticing enough. But now, to be able to see how her lips glistened as she ran her tongue over them, to be able to see how they wrapped around her words, was perhaps too much. And then there was the sharpness of her jaw, the soft skin of her cheeks, the way the cold made them redden and the way her nose matched. He tried to keep it to himself - now was most definitely not the time - besides the fact that she hadn't shown any interest toward him.

It was easier to focus on the problem at hand when, without the cover of her mask, he was able to see the amber lines of the poison running up her jaw. When he could see how her eyes dulled. When he could hear the shortness of her breath.

Henry tried to use his magic to generate warmth for the two of them, successfully, but they were still tired, hungry. They had made only one stop since the beginning of their journey since Killian and Henry had agreed that they wanted to reach their destination as quickly as possible. Their rations had depleted earlier that day.

Their one stop was two nights ago. Killian's feet were freezing in his boots and their last blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, his hand blue around Roger's reins.

Thankfully, Roger was accustomed to harsh weather and long journeys and provided a somewhat comfortable place of rest for his companions. He also seemed to be in touch with Killian’s concern.

"How long until we get there, Killian?" Henry's voice was a mumble from under the weight of the blankets.

He took another glance towards the white landscape and, for a moment, he feared he was hallucinating due to lack of sleep. But no, the round boulders scattered over the valley were still there on his third blink.

"I think we're here."

Henry's head emerged from the mountain of blankets, his eyes shining with hope as he saw the valley. Carefully, Killian helped Henry dismount, intending to keep a slumbering Emma comfortably on top of the horse.

"Where are they?" Henry asked, looking around.

Killian took a moment to tuck a blanket around Emma, getting distracted over the small uptick of her lips. His fingers ghosted over her cheek.

"It's the Truest Believer!"

A voice echoing in the valley broke through his thoughts of the softness of Emma's skin. Killian moved quickly to stand in front of Henry, sword drawn.

The boulders began to stand - legs, feet, arms, faces appearing on all of them. As surprised as he was, Killian sighed, wondering how he would fight a dozen rocks with one sword and two days without sleeping.

Scattered exclamations filled the air before the rock closest to them, which was also the largest, urged them all to be quiet.

"My apologies, friends,” he said, addressing Killian and Henry, “My family is quite excited to see the prophecy come to life. I'm Grand Pabbie,” he said with a small bow, “Welcome to our valley."

"Rock trolls," Henry exclaimed in a whisper, now standing next to Killian.

"Please excuse our suspicions, many people have tried to harm the boy," Killian explained, grip still firm on his sword.

"Yes, yes, we understand." The patriarch stilled his approaching family. "You are safe here."

Killian looked towards Henry with an expectant look, having learned to trust the boy’s instincts by this point. Henry looked back at him with a smile and a nod. He was relieved, to be truthful, he wasn't in much of a shape to fight against boulders. Well, to fight at all.

He watched, still wary, as Henry took Grand Pabbie's extended hand, to the cheers of the others throughout the valley. Killian put away his sword.

A groan caught his attention and he moved quickly towards Roger to check on Emma.

"Grand Pabbie, you need to help us," Henry pleaded. "Our friend has been poisoned."

"Yes, of course. Could you bring your friend to me?"

"Killian-" Henry began, turning toward him. Killian nodded.

She was still unconscious, her skin hot despite the cold, dark orange lines reaching her eyes. His hand trembled, but no longer with fear, as he carefully pulled away the blankets surrounding her body. Killian eased her into his arms, holding her close. He slowly crouched on the ground, taking care to lay her down gently at the leader's feet. He didn't stand, wanting to keep close to Emma, barely feeling Henry's hand on his shoulder.

Grand Pabbie spared her the briefest glance before a grim expression took over his face. Killian's heart pounded in his chest.

"Yes, this poison is vicious,” he said. “Fortunately, it didn't hit her heart. Unfortunately, our magic is not strong enough to remove it. We-"

It was like jumping into the cold waters of the ocean, his heart stopping in his chest. "What?!" Killian's shout echoed through the valley. "Are you saying you can't help her?!" He stood quickly, ignoring his body's protests as he did.

"Killian…" Henry called in a quiet voice, his hand grabbing onto his arm. There was a taste of defeat in Killian's mouth, of despair.

"My friend,” Grand Pabbie interjected calmly, “that is not what I said. I said our magic is not enough to heal her, but with the Truest Believer's help, we will save your companion. You mustn’t lose hope."

Later, Killian would feel guilty over his outburst. Later, Killian would apologize. Now, all he felt was the prickling of tears in his eyes.

Aware of Killian's emotions, Henry tightened his hand on his arm, hoping to reassure him.

"I can help?" Henry asked as he took a step forward.

Grand Pabbie turned his attention to the boy, a wide smile on his face, leaving Killian to take deep calming breaths.

"Of course you can, my child. Come."

Killian stood, eyes focused on Emma. He watched as Henry and the elder troll approached Emma's unconscious body.

"This poison was created by nature. We must return it to whence it came, to create balance," he explained. He took Henry's hand and placed it over Emma's chest, while the other he placed on the ground. "Feel it, listen to it, and guide it."

Henry nodded, determination glinting in his eyes before he closed them in concentration.

Killian took a step back, his hand clenched to his side. Hope and despair battled for dominance within him, threatening to drown him. He wanted to believe that Henry, under Grand Pabbie’s guidance, could heal Emma, but the despair in his heart over the threat of losing her too soon wasn’t so easily vanquished. Roger's breath tickled his face from over his shoulder. There were times the horse felt more human being than animal, and this was one of those times. His hand stroked Roger’s head, willing his breathing to regulate.

A glow surrounded Emma's body and Killian watched as the yellow liquid drained from her until there was none left. The dark orange lines that had covered her face disappeared with it and Killian could breathe again.

"Very good, my child," Grand Pabbie complimented, the other trolls cheering in response.

"Thank you," Henry breathed, sounding tired but happy. Moments later, his frown made an appearance on his face. "Why isn't she waking up?" he asked, echoing Killian's concerned thoughts.

The elder troll quickly placed his hand on the boy's arm. "The poison was very powerful, it took a lot from her. She needs to rest."

Henry nodded before he looked up at Killian, who nodded in response.

"As do all of you," Grand Pabbie added, after taking a better look at the travelers. "Come, I know the perfect place."

Killian cleared his throat. "All we need is a safe place to set up camp."

"Nonsense. You've traveled this far, you deserve comfort."

Killian wanted to reject the offer. He wanted to keep them safe, but not with strangers. But one look at Henry's posture, at Emma's still unconscious body, and Roger's clearly tired posture, prompted him to put his pride aside.

"Lead the way," he said as he took Emma back into his arms. He placed her upon Roger's back, silently pleading with the animal for just another few minutes of effort.

Killian led Roger by the reins once more through a path created by happy rock trolls on either side, as he followed Henry and Grand Pabbie.

He wasn’t sure how long they walked until they were standing in front of a cottage surrounded by snow. He’d spent the time focused on Henry's back, on Henry's voice as he introduced them to Grand Pabbie and explained what had happened to them, keeping his troubled thoughts at bay.

With a surprisingly gentle touch, the elder troll knocked on the door. A moment later, a redhead opened the door, a sharp sword in her hand. Killian quickly grabbed the hilt of his own, but he stopped himself when the young woman let out an excited exclamation once she saw Grand Pabbie.

The young woman and Grand Pabbie exchanged delighted hugs and proclamations of excitement as Killian took a deep breath, releasing his sword. The exhaustion pulled at him, but his mind stayed alert with his worry over Emma and Henry.

Before the redhead's excitement died down, a tall, white blonde haired woman entered the room. It was obvious she was also happy over Grand Pabbie's presence, but she expressed it much more reservedly than the other woman.

"Elsa, Anna,” Grand Pabbie said, pointing to each of them in turn, “these are Henry, Killian and Emma. They have traveled far and need a place to rest."

"Of course, we'd be happy to help." The one called Anna smiled widely, with an especially friendly smile towards Henry, who smiled back in turn. "Right, Elsa?"

The white haired woman, however, kept her eyes on Killian. She seemed to be searching for something - trying to understand something, perhaps - he wasn’t sure, before she turned back towards Grand Pabbie. The elder troll smiled gently.

"These travelers wish you no harm," he assured her. “You have my word.”

Elsa nodded at his words. "Anna, can you take their horse to the stable?"

"Yes, yes!" She quickly placed a hood over her shoulders and stood in front of the horse. "Don't worry, friend,” she said, patting him on the nose, “you won't have to share beds with anyone." Anna chuckled at her own joke, Henry joining her. "What's his name?"

"Anna…" Elsa began.

"What? He must have a name," Anna justified herself before she turned towards Killian. "Right?"

A warmth filled his chest as he exchanged a look with Henry, both of them remembering the same thing.

"His name is Roger," Killian answered.

"A great name! Hi, Roger." Anna continued stroking the horse's head, who seemed to enjoy the attention. It seemed they were fast friends.

Killian patted the horse's neck, before easing Emma off of him. He looked towards Henry and the boy rushed to collect their things off the horse.

"What happened?" Elsa asked, her eyes focused on Emma.

"Our friend Emma was poisoned." Grand Pabbie answered her question directly but with tact. "You understand their need for rest."

"Yes, of course. Come in, please." Elsa urged them inside after a nod at Anna, who took Roger's reins and led him towards the stables.

"Thank you, my dear." Killian heard Grand Pabbie behind him as he moved toward the door. "I'll see you later." The sound of rolling reached him and he turned just in time to see a large boulder rolling down the hill.

He turned to Henry, who watched as well, an amused smile on his face. Killian tried to match it, but he wasn’t sure he was successful.

Elsa quickly closed the door behind them, urging them to follow her towards a room with a fireplace and a very comfortable looking bed. Although, to be honest, any bed would look comfortable to Killian at this point.

"You can let your friend rest here, while yo-"

"We're staying together," Killian interrupted her. "Please,” he said a bit more gently, “you must understand."

"Yes, yes, of course." Elsa nodded. "I would want the same if it was my sister. We must keep the ones we love close."

Killian wanted to correct her, explain to her the nature of their relationship, but what would be the point? It wouldn't change anything about the fact that Killian wanted to protect them, needed to protect them. He wanted nothing more than to keep them close to him. Exactly as Elsa had just said.

"Do you have food?" Henry's question brought his wandering thoughts and his steps toward the bed to a sudden halt.

"Henry…" Killian chastised.

"It's alright,” Elsa assured them, “You must be hungry as well as tired." Elsa smiled, keeping her eyes on the boy. "I'll bring you some food. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

With a satisfied expression, Henry turned to Killian who could only shake his head with an amused smile. Regardless of his lighter mood, Henry still followed him closely as he placed Emma on the bed, quickly making sure she was comfortable. They fixed the hood around her head, unsure of how she would feel if she knew they had removed it without her permission. Still, Killian caught a glimpse of her blonde hair and couldn’t help the thoughts that filled his brain.

Thankfully, Elsa returned soon after, distracting them with the food in her hands. Now that they were safe and the adrenaline that had been sustaining him for two days was fading, Killian felt exhaustion pull at him. He sat on the bed while Henry rushed towards Elsa's offering. His back leaned against the wall as he eased Emma's head onto his lap, needing to keep her close. His eyelids drooped. It was impossible to keep them open.

"You must eat." Elsa’s gentle admonishment startled him awake and his eyes focused on the bread she held. He smiled and nodded in thanks, forcing himself to eat. She watched him for a moment before she nodded, satisfied with his progress and returned to the table where Henry sat.

It didn’t take him long to finish and he could stay awake no longer.

He had no idea how long he slept, but the sun was rising when he finally woke up. He had flashes of remembrance from the night and day before - something soft being placed behind him, a particularly loud laugh - but overall, he’d slept soundly since arriving. There was a weight on his side and he turned to see a sleeping Henry laying against his chest on the opposite side from where Emma's head was placed. His hooked arm was around the boy while his hand was settled on Emma's chest, over her heart.

He looked down to see her still resting, the steady beat of her heart under his palm reassuring. Looking across the room, he found it empty. The fire in the fireplace was slowly dying and he could see a cloth covered plate on the table.

Something metallic and cold on his thumb caught his attention. He wasn’t sure how he didn't notice it last time. His exhausted mind must have clouded his senses. It was his ring, nestled against her chest on its chain. He wondered when Henry gave it to her.

Memories of strong winds and waves tossing him around in the midst of the wreck invaded his mind. Memories of being rescued by a kind hand mixed with the feeling of freezing cold and dimming green eyes were replaced by the warmth he felt now with his hand on her heart. He couldn’t help but believe that the ring, and thus he as well, had a hand in saving her.

He watched as her eyes fluttered open, his heart beating faster in sync with her own. Green and frightened eyes skipped around the cottage, trying to make sense of her surroundings before they landed on his. There was only a moment before recognition filled them and her lips parted on a sigh. Their hearts calmed as one.

"Thank you." He smiled, a small, tired smile but nevertheless, sincere.

"For what?" Her voice was raspy from disuse.

"You saved me…" She looked away from him for an instant, he saw her remember the attack. "You saved me," he repeated, wanting to make sure she felt his gratitude.

Her smile was demure as her hand slowly found his. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times and Killian felt his heartbeat pick up once more in expectation. A million thoughts that he couldn’t quite understand swirled in her eyes, probably much more than she wished.

Belatedly, he sensed Henry beginning to move by his side. A shout of surprise filled the quiet room when the boy realized Emma was awake. The bed quickly became a tangle of limbs as Henry excitedly climbed towards her.

Their hands separated at some point and he immediately felt the loss. Loss that quickly turned to affection as he watched Henry grip Emma tightly, her eyes closed as her nose buried itself in his dark hair, a relieved and happy smile on both their faces.

"I'm so happy you're okay, Emma!" The boy's voice was muffled from where he huddled against Emma's body.

---

An earth-shaking scream echoed through the room as all of the non-magical mirrors shattered around Regina.

"Huntsman!"

She needed not to yell for him as he had not left the room. But that's not what he was focused on - his eyes stayed on his beating heart in her hand even as she gestured towards the very much alive hooded woman in the mirror.

"She lives…" Regina's low tone was perhaps more deadly than her screams.

The Huntsman’s shoulders untensed. For so long, he had been at the Queen’s hand, he had hoped her evil hadn’t corrupted him. He was at peace, a life was spared in the woman’s quest for revenge.

Regina took no time squeezing his heart in her grasp, the pain bringing him to his knees. He tried to silence his pain, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

Unexpectedly, a growl echoed through the room. The pain in his chest stopped altogether and his eyes opened. A familiar large wolf jumped toward the Queen, his heart falling from her grasp. It was only out of instinct that Graham caught the glowing red heart before it hit the floor. He rose to his feet and followed the wolf out of the castle before the Queen was able to return to her senses.

The evil queen’s enraged screeches echoed from the castle as they reached the forest.

---

Henry’s initial shout of joy brought Elsa and Anna into the room. Elsa was already ready for the day, while her sister drug her feet behind her, her face barely visible around the mountain of blankets she carried.

"She's awake, Elsa, she's awake!" Henry tumbled out of the bed, full of energy and grabbed the woman's hand.

"I can see that." Elsa smiled patiently as she followed him to the bed.

Killian stood from the bed, holding out his hands to help Emma. He couldn’t help but worry that she was still too weak. Her smile was thankful as she took his hand. He could swear his fingers felt electric under her touch.

"Emma, this is Elsa and her sister, Anna."

Emma's hand left his and he clenched and unclenched his fist, hoping to hold on to the feel of hers for a bit longer. She smiled uncomfortably towards the two strangers.

"I'm glad to know you're feeling better," Elsa said with a smile.

"Yeah, you were sleeping forever!" Henry teased as he came to Emma's side holding her hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Emma's eyes widened as she turned towards Elsa.

"No need to apologize,” the woman assured her. “It was our pleasure to help you."

"Yeah, we don't really have any visitors," Anna grumbled, standing close to her sister.

"Oh…" Emma turned to Killian in search of an explanation, but he merely shrugged.

"Killian slept a lot as well," Henry informed Emma with an overly loud fake whisper. She turned worried eyes towards him as he scratched behind his ear.

It was obvious she wanted to say something. She probably wanted to chastise him for pushing himself to utter exhaustion. But it wasn’t as if he would have allowed her to suffer longer, simply so he could rest. But before she could, Elsa interrupted, clearly trying to appease the situation.

"You must be hungry."

"Yes!" Anna nearly shouted impatiently, prompting a laugh out of Elsa.

"I meant our guests."

"Oh, yeah… well… them, too."

Henry and Killian both joined in before Killian turned towards Emma. He was just in time to see her shoulders relax, her whole posture calming as he watched. The sisters, as isolated as they seem to be, were wonderful hostesses and made them feel quite comfortable in this new and strange environment. They shared a small feast with the newcomers.

Henry quickly stretched over the table for a slice of a wonderful-looking cake. His excited lunge almost tipped over a glass bottle of water. Emma's fast reflexes managed to stop the wobbling bottle.

"Henry!" she scolded, her apprehensively tight lips visible due to the removal of her mask.

"Apologies, he's young," Killian directed towards the two siblings before turning a stern look at the boy.

"Yeah, sorry," Henry slowly sat back on his chair with a frown. "It just all looks so good."

"Thank you for apologizing, Henry." Elsa gave him a soft smile. "But as you see, no harm done."

"Here," Anna said, extending a big slice of cake on a plate. "You get the biggest piece."

"Thank you so much!" Henry excitedly shot a wide smile towards the young redhead before diving into the slice in front of him.

"Thank you," Killian directed towards the sisters.

"No need to worry," Elsa smiled. "Your son has much better manners than my sister." Her smile turned teasing as she glanced at her sister.

"Hey!" Anna complained half-heartedly.

"Oh, he's not our son."

"They are not my parents."

"We're not related."

Everyone spoke at the same time before silence settled over the table. Elsa looked between them, surprised, while Anna stopped with a fork in her mouth, glancing between them. Henry looked between Killian and Emma as the two of them tried to avoid everyone's gaze.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume," Elsa broke the silence with a calm expression. "I just thought…"

"We are on a quest," Henry began, ignoring the looks from the silent couple. "They are…” Henry trailed away, his brow furrowed, and looked at them, a question in his eyes. “Uh… sorta… my parents? Except, not really?"

Henry's confusion broke the tension as Killian chuckled and Emma followed. Elsa and Anna followed their lead, relaxing as well.

"What he means to say," Killian said, ruffling Henry's hair who pushed away his hand even with a smile on his face. "is that we are on our way to take him to another realm."

"So I guess you could say, we are escorting him," Emma added with an amused smile at Henry.

Killian laughed, turning his head to Emma. While before he had considered her distracting with an uncovered mouth, he had no words now that he saw her smile. All he could think of was how he could make her smile again, how he could make her laugh.

"Grand Pabbie told us," Elsa began, her tone more nervous as she held everyone's attention, "that someone would appear at our door. Someone we would have to help and that would help us in return."

"Yeah, he told us of the Heart of the Truest Believer," Anna interjected with a mouth full of bread.

There was a tense silence at the table. Despite Killian's trust of the Rock Trolls, they didn't know the sisters' intentions. He could see Emma hold on tighter to the knife.

"Grand Pabbie helped us heal Emma," Henry reminded him as well as actually informing Emma. "He knew about me."

Killian observed the two women in front of him at Henry's confession of possessing the Heart of the Truest Believer. He could see the confirmation of her suspicions in Elsa's face while Anna seemed to let her sister take control of the conversation, content to focus on her food.

"We assumed so," Elsa nodded, smiling reassuringly at them. "No one comes to our door besides the rock trolls."

"What are your intentions with the Heart of the Truest Believer?" Emma asked, her tone formal even as he noticed her fist clench even tighter on the knife.

"We just want your help."

"With what?"

"Our kingdom," Anna answered, before looking at Elsa for permission. "We were run out of Arendelle by that stupid Hans."

"Anna," Elsa said calmly, her hand over her sister's. "A neighboring prince with an inflated sense of his own importance used a power he didn’t understand to take our kingdom. And he succeeded."

There was anger and frustration in her voice by the end and he could swear the temperature in the small cottage dropped twenty degrees, chilling his blood and raising the hairs on his arms. Anna's hand clenched over her sisters and the room warmed instantly.

"You have magic," Henry interrupted the moment, leaning forward on the table.

Elsa turned a look towards Anna who smiled reassuringly. The blonde then turned back towards them, both her hands turned up while her eyes closed. It wasn't long before small snowflakes began pouring from the ceiling. He heard Emma's sharp intake of breath and Henry's excited squeal. He was torn - he felt like he should be more worried over encountering another magic user, but the fact was, he was nothing but impressed at the show of magic.

"That is amazing!" Henry exclaimed.

Elsa grinned as her eyes opened. She closed her hands effectively ending the falling snow.

"If you have magic, how did you lose your kingdom?" Emma asked with a frown.

"Have you ever heard of the tale of the Snow Queen?" Elsa asked.

The three of them shook their heads.

"Oh, can I tell it?" Anna asked excitedly, not waiting for her sister's answer. "She was an Arendellian Queen that had ice powers and used it to vanquish all her enemies, but she couldn’t control her powers and she hurt her loved ones driving her to madness. She was trapped in a magical urn to protect the kingdom."

Killian and Emma couldn't help but look at Elsa, the similarities not lost on them.

"She was said to have ruled before we were born," Elsa explained. "My powers caused a lot of apprehension at first from our people. But, I have control of them… my powers, I mean, and after I protected our kingdom from an enemy attack, they accepted me as their queen."

"How does this Snow Queen fit into all this?" Emma asked.

"The prince we mentioned, Hans, released the Snow Queen from her prison and took control of Arendelle with her by his side," Anna answered.

"Her power was too strong," Elsa continued. "We had no choice but to run."

"If you guys joined us, I'm sure we'd be able to defeat her," Anna concluded, looking at their visitors.

"Yes, we'll help you!" Henry interjected with a wide expectant smile towards Killian and Emma.

Magic. After a decade keeping as far away from it as possible, he had been thrown right in the middle of it. Not only was he traveling with magic users but he was also being thrown into a battle to save someone's kingdom from another magical being. What had his life become?

Henry took their silence as a negative response. "We have to help them!" His eyes were pleading as they looked between his two companions.

"It's alright if you don't want to take the risk, it isn't your responsibility," Elsa acknowledged.

"We'll help you." Emma took control, locking eyes with him. "They helped us, now we help them." Her tone was confident, her eyes matching the conviction in her words.

Killian nodded after a moment. "Cygnus directed us this way."

Henry's whoop of celebration broke the tension of the moment as Anna joined him. Elsa shot them a thankful look and nodded her acceptance. He was sure this was the right thing to do, he just hoped he would live long enough to witness their victory.

---

After the meal, Elsa took Emma towards a separate room to bathe - both Killian and Henry agreed that she should go first. While she was gone, they took the opportunity to see Roger as they stored their things in the satchels.

"Lad, I- I want to apologize for how I behaved during the journey. I-"

"I understand, Killian. You care for her, too." Henry looked at him with a smile as he stroked the horse's head.

Killian was speechless, but he couldn’t deny it. He thought he’d been more circumspect about his attraction to Emma, but he obviously hadn’t been if Henry could see it.

"I care for you, too, you know," Killian said instead, a subtle apology for his behavior at the table.

"I know that, too." Henry grinned, making Killian laugh.

"Go inside and bathe," Killian instructed, hoping for a few moments with his thoughts.

Henry nodded, taking a step towards the exit of the stable before he halted. Without warning, Henry's body collided with Killian's in a tight hug.

"Thank you for taking care of us, Killian." Henry’s words were muffled against his chest as his arms wrapped around the boy.

"You're quite welcome, my boy," he replied, his voice quiet, full of emotion.

Henry turned a bright smile towards the older man before he rushed towards the cottage.

Maybe his situation wasn't as bad as he thought, even with the constant battles he was being volunteered for. Maybe seeing Henry's smile was enough. Maybe fighting alongside Emma was enough. Maybe he should admit that he cared for them. Maybe.

Roger's head bumped into his back, interrupting his thoughts. He turned to the animal with a smile.

"Guess it's time to play the hero," Killian smiled, patting the horse's head. "What do you think?"

Roger knickered in agreement and Killian chuckled. Maybe it would all be alright.

---

Arriving back at the cottage, Killian found Anna and Henry in excited conversation, talking of their adventures and telling stories. Elsa and Emma were in much quieter conversation as they prepared provisions for the journey. They really were wonderful hosts.

Killian left them to their preparations and made use of the metal tub of warm water in the back of the cottage. After such a cold environment, the warm bath was incredibly comforting. After scrubbing himself down he donned his clothes and looked around the room. An assortment of scattered papers on a nearby table caught his eye. He shouldn't, he knew he shouldn’t… it wasn't his room and he definitely shouldn't look over personal items, but something drew him in, something he couldn’t explain.

Drawings. Some abstract, blue cold lines overtaken by red. Others clearly depicted a castle, a cold room, a summer garden with beautiful flowers.

And then he saw them. Familiar blue eyes. Eyes set in a cold blue canvas, in warm red lines. There were so many of them, in different styles, in different colours. And then he saw his face. Clear lines on an old canvas. He could see every curl in his hair, the warmth in his blue eyes, the caring smile on his lips. After a decade without him, he was finally face to face with his brother - his brother as a young man, when they were still indentured, but perfectly recognizable.

Killian startled as the door opened, but he was much too slow turning his eyes towards the blonde woman. There wasn’t time to pretend he hadn't just been looking through her drawings. He didn’t really want to.

"I came to see if you were alright." Elsa's voice was quiet, her eyes stuck on the drawing in his hand, her hand still on the doorknob.

"Did you draw these?" His voice matched hers, unwilling to break such a delicate moment with accusations.

She took a few steps closer to the table, the door left a few inches open. Her eyes never left the drawing in his hand even as she stood on the opposite side of the table. She nodded.

He carefully put it down as if it would disappear at any moment.

"Who was he?" Killian asked her in a whisper, even if he already knew the answer.

"I didn’t know his name," Elsa answered. "That was my first drawing of him."

"Who was he?" he repeated, his voice more sure, more desperate.

"A long time ago, when I was much younger, I used to escape from the castle with Anna," she began, her eyes on the many drawings on the table. "We used to play by the shore. During the summer, I would freeze the water so we could skate on it. Anna loved it.” Elsa’s eyes were far away, lost in the memory. "One of those days of summer, my powers failed me. Anna was moving too fast and I couldn't keep up. She fell in the water. I screamed for someone to help, anyone. We couldn't swim, I couldn't help her. And then I heard someone jump in the water. I saw him reach my sister, bringing her to me. I pulled her into my arms, but she was having trouble breathing. I needed to take her back to the castle. I thanked him and he smiled. But before I could say anything else, someone shouted for him and he was gone.”

"Seeing the danger I posed to my sister threw me into a difficult time. My powers were out of control. The only thing that helped was to draw. I drew him, I drew all of this,” she said, motioning around the table. “That, along with Anna's help, brought back my control. I wish I could have thanked him."

Killian's heart was about to pound out of his chest. He remembered that day.

"He was my brother," Killian said after a moment of silence. He heard Elsa's sharp breath and felt her eyes on him but he couldn't take his eyes off the drawing, off his brother's eyes. "I saw him jump off of the ship. I was so confused, I couldn't understand why he would do that when he knew we would get in trouble.

"The Captain heard the splash and thought Liam was trying to escape… which was ridiculous… he wouldn't have gone without me," he continued, taking a deep breath. "I can still feel the dagger the Captain held at my throat. That was why he left so fast, he wanted to protect me. It didn't really work, though, we both got some thorough lashes that day."

"I don't understand."

"We were indentured servants all throughout our childhood and teen years," Killian explained. "The Captain owned us and he thought Liam was trying to escape."

"I-I'm so sorry." Elsa laid her hand on his in comfort.

"It's in the past, lass," Killian smiled a small, reassuring smile. "I never thought I'd see his face again."

They both took a moment to look at the drawing, letting the silence comfort them. Killian freed his hand to run it carefully through the lines.

"What was his name?" Elsa whispered.

"Liam."

"Liam." Elsa smiled. "That's a beautiful name."

Killian smiled back with a nod. He saw Elsa lick her lips in a nervous gesture and he anticipated her next question.

"What happened to him?"

Killian cleared his throat, hoping to control his emotions. "There was a storm. I was the only survivor."

He felt more than saw Elsa move around the table. Despite his efforts, there were tears in his eyes and he finally let them spill as he felt Elsa's arms around him.

"He would be proud of you, I'm sure," she whispered.

He couldn’t help the watery chuckle. "I hope so."

An understanding smile passed between them as they backed away from each other.

"We're ready!" Henry's excited call from the door broke the moment. Killian caught a glimpse of dark green from behind Henry. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course, my boy." Killian smiled reassuringly. "Time for an adventure, right?"

"Yeah!"

The child was full of excitement as he returned to the other two women.

"You should have this." In Elsa's hand was the drawing of his brother. "And you can't refuse, I'm the queen."

Her eyes were full of the emotion from their conversation but a teasing smile lifted the corner of her lips.

Killian chuckled. "Of course. Who am I to defy royalty?"

She joined him with her laughter. He carefully took the treasure from her hand, looking at it for a moment before following the creases of the paper to fold it before placing it in the inside pocket of his coat.

"Thank you, Elsa." His voice was quiet but there was no mistaking the emotion behind his words.

She nodded in response. With a deep breath, she took a step towards the door. "They should be waiting for us."

"Yes, let's go."

Leaving the room, he found the other women all ready for the journey. Anna’s sword was by her side, and as opposed to her sister, seemed to be a lot more prepared for the cold weather. He was saddened to note that Emma had put her mask back over her mouth, despite the fact that with the cold and possible battle before them, it would probably be much more effective there.

---

With their things already on Roger's back, they started walking back down to the Rock Troll valley. Apparently the news of their allyship with the Arendellian royalty had already reached their stone ears since their path was now lined with cheering trolls. Henry obviously enjoyed it despite the discomfort of the others.

Standing at the end of the valley, Grand Pabbie brought them to a halt before ushering Anna away from the group. Turning towards Elsa, she shared their confused expression. Those same expressions only became more pronounced when Anna returned without any sort of explanation.

"Let's go kick some princely ass!" she cried in response to their confused looks, as if the only thing the group needed was some motivation.

Having no choice but to trust Anna and Grand Pabbie, they put the puzzling conference behind them and continued on their way. They could still hear the crowd of trolls cheering them on for a few miles after exiting the valley.

It wasn’t long after that they could see figures in the distance, the dark of their armor contrasting with the snowy landscape. The army made no move toward their small party, allowing them to approach. They’d obviously been expected. It only took a few minutes for them to arrange themselves at the edge of the improvised battlefield.

"I'm so happy you finally showed up!" A strong voice sounded from the group ahead of them. It came from the only figure on top of a horse, their red hair clashing against the gaudy crown he wore upon his head. Killian had to assume that it was the self-proclaimed king- former prince- that took the throne from the two women beside him.

Beside him, there was a woman dressed in a white dress, not suitable for such weather. It was obviously the Snow Queen and that she shared not only Elsa's ice powers, but her comfort with the cold weather, as well.

Behind them, two rows of five foot soldiers stood with weapons at the ready. It was safe to say that Hans didn’t think much of the threat the displaced royals posed, not with the Snow Queen by his side, anyway. But Killian was confident, they had succeeded so far.

"We thought we'd give you time to look your best, Hans," Anna jeered from his side. "Looks like we should have taken a little longer… well, maybe a lot longer."

Henry tried to disguise his laughter with a cough even if he wasn't fooling anyone. Killian didn't have experience in military battles, but he was quite sure it did not involve throwing mocking remarks between armies.

"You think you're funny, but I am the one with the crown," Hans grinned as he sat up straighter on his horse. "And you aren’t getting it back."

"That crown looks stupid on your stupid head!" Anna shouted back with a satisfied grin, making even Elsa hide a laugh.

"You're at a disadvantage!" Hans' face twisted in anger. He probably expected to be seen as intimidating and was failing miserably. "You're going to lose!"

"Enough talking!" Elsa interrupted, taking a step forward. "We're taking back what's ours."

Killian obviously couldn’t see the faces of the soldiers through their helmets, but he had learned years ago how to read a person's body language. It had saved him many times over. The army behind Hans was uncomfortable, unwilling - they were being forced to stand against their true sovereigns.

"Close your eyes and feel the ground," Henry's quiet words towards Emma just reached Killian’s ears. "Feel where their feet stand on the ground and focus."

From the corner of his eye, he could see Henry reach for Emma's hand. Before he could figure out what was happening, a bright wave of magic passed harmlessly through their party. Once it reached the open field, it began to stir the snow on the ground, startling the enemy army.

"Stand your ground!" Hans shouted over the rumbling sound the wave made as it approached them.

Killian watched as the soldiers raised their swords in front of them and he saw the Snow Queen raise both arms in front of her. The wave of magic created by Emma and Henry passed by Hans and the Snow Queen harmlessly before hitting the soldiers. They all fell to the ground - completely immobile. Even if he didn't already trust Emma, he would know that it wasn't a deadly attack.

"I see you wanted to make the fight more fair," Hans grinned, kicking his heel into the horse’s side for it to begin moving slowly before turning back to the woman next to him. "Go on, show them what we can do!"

Killian's grip on his sword tightened as he watched the Snow Queen raise her arms once more. The tension rose in his allies as they prepared a defense. But no one could have predicted that from a tornado-like flurry of snow, a behemoth of a snow monster would stomp out, letting out a bellow that shook the ground.

"Why do they always have to bring out these mountain-sized monsters?" Killian bemoaned as he unsheathed his sword. He and Henry shared an amused look, even if the concern in their eyes tamed their merriment.

The monster was still for a moment, apparently awaiting instructions. Hans' face could only be described as victorious. He raised his arms up, triumphantly.

Killian heard Anna gasp from behind him. Turning to her, he saw her wide eyes focused on Hans. Before he could ask her about it, Elsa turned to their group.

"Emma, Henry, keep the monster away from us. I will deal with the Snow Queen. Ann-"

"I will help Killian with Hans," Anna quickly interrupted, standing closer to Killian.

"I thought we were done talking!" Hans called with a grin towards the opposing group. He nodded towards the Snow Queen, and as she raised her arms, the monster began stomping towards them.

With a nod of acknowledgement towards the true queen, Henry and Emma began rushing towards the monster, white energy in their hands. At the same time, a beam of light blue magic exploded from Elsa’s hands directed towards the Snow Queen. It looked powerful and Killian felt their small circle tremble with the force of her magic. It should have been strong enough to overpower just about anyone, but unfortunately the Snow Queen was not just anyone. Her responding beam of white magic clashed against Elsa's, the trembling aftershock making all of them stumble.

Trusting Elsa to hold her own against the other magic user, Killian looked towards Hans. The wannabe king's face was almost purple with anger - clearly he had expected to win this battle with barely any effort. Killian suspected that his successful overthrow of Arendelle had gone to his head.

"Killian," Anna approached him. "I need to get close to Hans, can you knock him off his horse?"

Killian smirked. "It would be my pleasure."

He gave a sharp whistle towards Roger. As he approached, Killian swung into the saddle with a practiced move. Hans, noticing his approach, turned his horse towards Killian. They both unsheathed their weapons as they neared each other.

The three-part battle roared in the clearing. Killian heard the growls of the giant snow monster to his left, and felt the ground rumble with the monster's every step. The air around them sparked with energy making the hair on Killian’s neck stand at attention, and the temperature dropped as the icy beams of magic clashed against each other. But he couldn’t worry about any of that now, he had to focus on his own part of the battle - Hans and the sword he wielded.

Killian met Hans' attacks strike for strike, desperate to protect his companions. He had grown to care for the child and the hooded warrior, as well as for the young Arendelle royalty.

Suddenly, a snowball hit his adversary in the face, a shout of victory sounding from behind Killian. Surprise and then outrage replaced the frustration in Hans' face. Killian grinned, knowing Anna threw the snowball. Wasting no time, Killian kicked his opponent right off of the horse.

Anna ran towards them as fast as she could as Killian dropped down from Roger. Acting fast before Hans gained his feet, he disarmed the usurper just as Anna reached them, her momentum when she slammed against Hans, sending him face-first to the ground once more.

"Hold him down!" Anna cried and Killian moved quickly to do as he was told.

"Let go of me, how dare you?!" Hans' demands were ignored as Killian dropped a knee onto the man's back and held his wrists behind his back.

Killian looked towards the battlefield and was glad to see both Emma and Henry alive and well and their enemy reduced to half its size. Killian watched curiously as Anna reached for the false king’s wrist, ignoring his yells of outrage.

"Aha!" Anna exclaimed as she grabbed hold of Hans' right wrist. Killian watched as she unknotted a pale yellow ribbon.

"What are you doing?! St-" Han's shouts were interrupted as Killian pushed his head into the snow. Not for long, unfortunately, but enough to silence him for the moment.

In the silence, their attention was captured by Elsa and the Snow Queen. Their beams of magic had stopped, the older woman's eyes focused on Anna's hands - or more specifically, on the ribbon in her hands.

There was silence in the clearing as Anna slowly approached their enemy, her eyes on the Snow Queen's, whose focus was on the ribbon.

"I was told this was yours." Anna spoke in a soft voice. Killian noticed Elsa slowly following her sister, most likely hoping to protect the young princess.

Despite Anna’s non-threatening posture, a flurry of snow formed around the two women. He heard Elsa call for her sister. He wanted to go and help but he had to keep Hans in place. The defeated prince's mocking laughter was interrupted yet again by another face full of snow. He watched as Emma held on to Henry's shoulders keeping him protected from the growing tornado of snow.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Anna stood, alive and well, her hands holding onto the Snow Queen's, who held Anna’s just as tightly, a soft smile on her face.

Anna turned to them, her own smile wide. "I told you Hans would lose!" she announced victoriously, the Snow Queen trying and failing to smother a chuckle at Anna's comment.

His relief was like a weight off his shoulders as he watched Elsa embrace Anna, once her younger sister stepped back from the Snow Queen. But that distraction was all Hans needed to throw Killian off him and charge against the sisters, dagger in hand.

Magic flew but none hit their intended target, until finally a bright white ball of magic hit his arm, making him drop his weapon. The Snow Queen's hand was raised.

"I am the rightful king of Aren-" Hans screamed in fury.

Before any of them could do anything, Anna's fist connected with the angry prince, shocking him to silence.

"Knock it off, Hans." Anna grinned, shaking her hand from the contact. "You lost."

"May I?" The Snow Queen's voice was calm, even as she stared daggers into her former ally.

Elsa looked concerned but there was nothing but confidence in Anna's expression when she nodded. They all watched as their former enemy raised her hand to Hans and froze him in place.

"Not to worry," the Snow Queen assured them, the tone of her voice regal and polished, "He will thaw in a few days."

Anna visibly relaxed with the woman's explanation, and the rest of their company followed her lead. Emma even removed her mask.

"Then we should take him to the dungeons and warn his brothers of his prison sentence," Elsa said, a question within her crystal blue eyes.

"Oh!" Anna seemed to suddenly remember that there was information that needed to be shared with the rest of her group. "This is Ingrid, she's our aunt!"

There was stunned silence among them. The Snow Queen's smile was sheepish but emotional as she looked at the two princesses. Killian looked towards Emma and Henry, who seemed to be as shocked as him.

Killian cleared his throat. "I'll just prepare our new snowman for the journey."

"We'll help!" Emma quickly added, grabbing Henry's hand to bring him towards Roger. They all wanted to give the Arendelle women some space, even as they were insanely curious about the story behind Ingrid.

While Emma helped Killian drag the frozen Hans towards Roger, Henry moved toward the women instead, unable to contain his curiosity and listening to their conversation.

"Are you hurt?" Killian asked as he handed a rope to Emma.

"No." Emma looked at him, her eyes locking with his for a second before she returned her attention to their task. "Just tired. Using magic is exhausting." He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Hopefully, we'll be able to rest after this," Killian said, holding up Hans' legs for Emma to pass the rope under. She smiled and his heart skipped a beat as he smiled back.

They made quick work wrapping the ropes around the block of ice. Henry, apparently having heard enough of the royal’s conversation, joined them jumping up and down in excitement, obviously not nearly as tired as Emma. Killian expected the boy to crash once the adrenaline was gone.

"Ingrid is their aunt!" Henry excitedly recounted. "Hans made a deal with a dark wizard to get control of Arendelle and they gave him control of Ingrid! Apparently, Elsa and Anna's mother thought her sister had died but now they are reunited! The ribbon was what was controlling her and Anna released her!"

"Breathe, my boy." Killian smiled.

The child finally took a break to breathe under the amused looks of Emma and Killian. They both moved to tie the ropes to Roger's saddle, the boy following behind, still too thrilled with their circumstances to calm down.

"But isn't it great?! A happy ending!" Henry continued, approaching Roger to pet him and feed him. "What about you guys? What are your happy endings?"

Killian's hands stilled at the same time Emma's shoulders tensed.

"My happy ending," Killian answered, his attention on Roger making sure all of their provisions were safe, "will be to finally get revenge on the monster who took my hand."

"Oh." Henry looked down for a second, a frown on his face. A weight descended on Killian's chest at having put the frown on his face, but he deserved the truth. "What about you, Emma?"

Killian watched as Henry looked at Emma, frown still in place but unmistakable hope in his eyes. He looked at Emma who kept her eyes on her already tightly-knotted rope, as she pulled her mask back over her mouth.

"I don't believe in happy endings."

Killian watched Henry's frown deepen. Their words had made it clear that the adults' lives hadn't been idyllic and for them to have the same sort of hope Henry was able to foster effortlessly was difficult, if not impossible, but it didn't stop Killian from feeling guilt over crushing the boy's heart.

"Will you be accompanying us back to the castle?" Elsa's voice broke the silent moment, the concerned frown on her face showed she was aware of the tension. "It should be a day's journey."

Killian managed a small reassuring smile towards the blonde woman. "Aye, we would be honored."

"Are you sure you can trust her?" Emma's voice was firm, her eyes on their new companion.

"We can." Elsa's voice matched Emma's, tamed by the soft smile on her lips. "She's family." Emma nodded.

"Shall we go?" Killian asked, placing his hand on Henry's shoulder.

The child looked up at him and Killian attempted his best reassuring smile. He could feel the boy's shoulders gain some firmness and he nodded. It wasn't solved, he didn't expect it to be, but it would be okay. He lifted the boy onto the horse, taking his place next to Roger's head, leading him by the reins.

Killian watched, through the corner of his eyes, as Emma handed Henry a treat from their satchel - an olive branch of sorts, he expected - before joining him on the other side of Roger.

---

They walked through the afternoon. There wasn't a quiet moment during the journey with the high emotions and reunited family and adventures to retell. The sun was setting when they decided to camp for the night.

They had found a nearby river to fill their canteens and shelter from the cold weather. The stars were high in the sky when they finally settled around the fire Emma lit.

Despite the earlier tension, Henry settled comfortably between Killian and Emma. They had huddled in front of a tree for warmth, justifying their close proximity as protection from the cold. Thankfully, Elsa and Ingrid really didn't seem to be bothered by the cold and there were more than enough blankets for everyone.

"What is that?" Henry asked quietly.

Killian looked down to where Henry was pointing. His coat gaped open and the edge of the sheet Elsa had given him peeked out of the inside pocket. There was a smile on his face as he removed it. His eyes found Elsa's on the other side of the fire before the blonde returned to her conversation with her family.

"This," Killian began, opening the paper carefully, "was my brother."

"The one that gave you the ring?"

Killian noticed Emma’s eyes on him as he handed the drawing to Henry, pleased to see him be as gentle as Killian had been, clearly understanding the drawing's importance. Emma subtly raised her hand to her chest, to the place he suspected the ring laid.

"Aye, his name was Liam."

"Wow," Henry breathed. "You have the same eyes."

Killian smiled. The drawing was as close to a perfect rendition of his brother as could be. They shared their mother's eyes even though Killian's face shape was closer to his father's.

"What happened?" Emma's voice surprised him, so soft he almost thought he imagined it.

But she was looking at him with understanding, like she already knew the story wasn't a happy one. Also like she was surprised she had actually asked the question.

Killian took a deep breath. It still hurt to remember and as much as he didn't want to retell it, he felt like Emma should know. He wanted Emma to know.

"We were aboard a ship during a storm," Killian began and his heart filled to the brim when he felt Henry inch closer to him. "Our Captain was a fool and forced us to keep on course. He believed the rumors about a jewel that you would find at the eye of the storm. All it did was kill everyone on board, I was the only survivor."

"You told me." Henry's voice was quiet, to match their quiet setting. "You said that Liam gave you the ring and that it was the only thing you had of your family."

He should have expected a question like that. Henry had been kind enough to not ask before when they spoke of the ring, but now, he wanted to share it.

"Aye," Killian sighed. "My mother passed when I was very young. I remember very little of her, mostly her smile and her eyes and the lullaby she would sing us at night. And the ring on her finger."

"And your father?" Henry frowned, apparently expecting something equally as sad. Emma's eyes were downcast, obviously thinking the same.

"He sold us when Liam was around your age. I was a few years younger." Killian's tone was resigned, accustomed to the anger he felt towards his father. "That's why we were on that ship."

"But- But why would he sell you?" There was a clear tone of outrage and hopelessness in Henry's voice. That hurt more than remembering the people he lost.

"I stopped asking myself that a long time ago, lad."

"But he was your father." Killian's heart broke when he saw the shine in Henry's eyes.

The same expression, the same tone of voice, the same words - watching Henry now was like looking at himself as a child. How many times had Killian asked himself the very same questions?

"I know, my boy." Killian wrapped his arm tighter around the boy, trying to provide the comfort he had wanted back then. "My brother used to say that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. I choose to believe that my father's selfish ways got him exactly what he deserved. That's how I make my peace with it."

There was silence in their little huddle. He felt Emma's warmth closer than before; she had moved closer to them. Despite the heavy moment, he felt lighter with that knowledge.

"I never knew my parents." Emma's quiet voice broke the moment and Killian felt Henry's shoulders tense up again. "I was abandoned and ended up in Neverland."

"What's Neverland?" Henry whispered.

"They say Neverland is a paradise, a place where lost ones can have anything they can imagine." Emma's voice was bitter. "In reality, it's a jungle you can never escape from, ruled by a power-hungry demon."

"How did you escape?" Killian asked.

"No one ages in Neverland," she began, her eyes on the fire but leagues away. "That's what Pan tells you. But I started to notice how, when the other children began growing, they would disappear. So, when I came of age, I knew I had to leave."

"What happened to the others?"

Emma turned to the boy at his question at the same time Killian did, her mouth open in hesitation. They shared a quick look, Killian reading the truth in her eyes. He knew she was wary of telling the boy the truth and he didn’t blame her one bit.

"I don't know," Emma muttered in a half-lie. "They simply disappeared from the island."

"Is that when you met Tinkerbell?"

Emma sighed, glad that Henry dropped the subject. "Yeah, she helped me get out of Neverland and told me about you."

"So," Killian started, hoping to relieve the tension. "Is Neverland responsible for that fetching outfit of yours?"

Emma let out a surprised laugh while Henry frowned in confusion at the strange word. Her mask was off again, her hood loose on her head leaving hints of her blonde hair in view.

"Actually, yes." Her hands ran down her sleeve. "We didn't have names in Neverland, we all looked the same. Pan kept us covered to keep us the same. He only wanted to see our eyes, we were to never let anyone see our faces."

In the subsequent silence, Killian thought about the times she had allowed them to see her face. The trust inherent in the action filled his heart. How did these two strangers become so important to him?

"How did you know your name was Emma, then?"

Emma smiled at the boy's question. She opened the satchel by her side, removing something small and soft and weathered. "Because of this."

She opened the torn piece of a blanket on her lap, her thumb caressing the embroidery of her name in purple yarn. "I have had this with me since I was a baby, the only thing my parents gave me. Tinkerbell saved it for me. We had to cut it so I could travel with it.

"All the other children had names of animals. Pan called me a Duckling when I finally joined the Lost Ones and when I grew up, I chose to be a Swan."

"And you became our Swan," Henry added, leaving Killian's side to stretch his arms around her.

Killian smiled, his hand caressing the boy's hair in pride. He watched as Emma's smile reached her watery eyes. Her arms went around Henry tightly.

"Thank you, Henry," she whispered, dropping her cheek to his head for an instant.

Their arms loosened around each other, neither ready to let the other one go. Killian watched as Henry licked his lip and kept his eyes on the piece of blanket on Emma's lap.

"I don't remember my parents," Henry said quietly. "I think I remember their voices, I think they loved me but I don't remember them. The fairies told me that they were gone but they never told me how or why. They just kept telling me that everything was as it should be and to have hope."

Killian frowned, Emma matching him. All this mystery behind Henry was catching up to the boy. He deserved answers. Answers neither of them were able to give him.

"I know that it isn't easy to have hope." Henry spoke in a low voice, his face hidden from them while his fingers gently caressed the tattered blanket. "Growing up with the fairies was easy and safe. I didn't have friends or much to worry about. These past days have really been a change.”

"I know you two had very different lives from me. I understand now why happy endings aren't the same for everyone, but," he continued, finally sitting up straight between them, his hands on each adult's arm. "I choose to believe that they are possible and that we will all live happily ever after. Even if you don't, I'll believe it for you."

Henry's eyes were full of determination and hope, the very definition of a Believer. There wasn't much either of them could say and he watched as Emma's eyes shone with the fire's light. Killian moved his arm so that he could hold the boy's hand in a tight grip and he watched as Emma did the same.

Aware that their emotional moment had an audience, Killian looked over at their companions. He should have known not to worry about their judgment of their scene because, as he did, he saw Anna had turned into a pile of blankets sleeping soundly between her sister and aunt. Ingrid and Elsa’s focus was on each other as they talked.

“I think that’s a new one, don’t you think, kid?” Emma’s voice brought his gaze back to her.

Emma had her gaze on the sky and was pointing with her free hand to a specific cluster of stars. Henry’s dark head followed her hand with his eyes, inhaling a surprised breath. Killian caught Emma’s eyes and she grinned at him, mischief shining in her green eyes.

“Can you tell me about those, Killian? Please?” Henry looked back at him with pleading eyes and the beginnings of a pout.

“Who am I to deny such a request?” Killian grinned, his fake put upon tone failing to hit the mark.

Killian sat back against the tree and his smile grew as he felt Henry settle at his side with his eyes back on the sky. Emma mimicked Killian’s position, no longer hiding her interest in the stories he told about the stars.

He looked at the constellation Emma had indicated, trying to remember exactly what he had been told about that one. The stars formed two figures turned to each other. Its position in the Northern sky and the fact that they were upside down told him that the constellation belonged to the Enchanted Forest - the clear skies above allowing them to see them.

“Those stars tell the most famous love story of the Enchanted Forest,” Killian began, his arm on Henry’s head, running his hand through his hair. “It is said that decades ago, a princess ran away from her kingdom after her evil stepmother tried to kill her. She became a bandit who stole from the rich and helped her people. And her people helped her back - she gave them her love and provided for them and they gave her their loyalty and protection in return.”

“And then there was a shepherd who became a prince,” he continued. “After a deal made with a wizard, he took his late twin brother’s place as prince and was arranged to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom.”

Killian made sure to keep his voice low, hoping to help the boy fall asleep. With his arm, he pulled Henry closer, so the boy could use him as a cushion. He felt the weight of Emma’s body on his arm as she had been leaning against the boy as well.

“They met when the bandit tried to steal from the prince’s carriage. It is said that she punched him on the jaw when he finally caught her.” He heard a breathy laugh from Emma and caught her eye with a smirk. “Did they live happily ever after?” Henry’s mumble from where his head rested made them smile.

“They went through a lot of adventures, fought villains and won, and when the bandit was cursed with eternal sleep, it was the prince’s kiss that woke her. Together, they defeated the bandit’s evil stepmother and became king and queen, ruling side by side.”

Henry’s hum was muffled by Killian’s chest and he turned to Emma, who was still looking at the stars.

“Is he asleep?” Killian whispered to her.

She turned to him with a smile before leaning forward to check Henry’s face.

“Like a rock.” She chuckled, Killian joining her. “You know how to tell a story.”

The corner of his lips rose as he looked up at the stars. “My brother used to tell me stories when we were young. He had to whisper them to me so the other sailors wouldn’t listen.” He continued running his fingers through Henry’s hair. “They helped me sleep so I hoped they would do the same for Henry.”

Killian turned to Emma to find her looking curiously at him.

“I know I’m not part of some prophecy nor do I have magic,” he confessed, locking eyes with his companion. “But I care for the boy and I will protect him with all I have.”

She smiled. And that smile was new. It was a simple upturn of her lips that made his heart beat so fast he was worried she might hear it.

“I feel the same way,” she whispered, looking down. “He is a special boy and not just because of any prophecy.”

Killian nodded. When her gaze met his again, she appeared rattled, her eyes filled with trepidation and wariness.

“I should check our course,” Killian noted, looking away. He heard her sigh and decided that there had been enough heavy conversation for a night. “Do you mind?” He gestured towards Henry.

“Oh.” Emma reached over to lay a hand on Henry’s head, her hand brushing on his exposed chest and he was certain that the temperature had risen around them about ten degrees.

Taking a steadying breath, Killian focused on his satchel as soon as Henry was lying comfortably on Emma’s chest, his mouth open in sleep. Looking up at the sky, it was easy to identify Cygnus in the middle of the other stars.

He was glad for having the distraction of reading the star and on charting their course so he wouldn’t feel Emma’s gaze on him or on his hand.

“It’s pointing Southwest now, to Misthaven,” he announced with a frown. “It’s taking us back down the map.”

“Why is that so strange?”

“We’ve been to the Enchanted Forest before, that’s where our trip began.” He folded the map to put it back on his satchel. “I told Henry that Cygnus would take anyone to where they were meant to be. I can’t help but see the truth of that.” He nodded towards where Ingrid and Elsa still sat talking quietly.

“Do you think there is something that we need to do in Misthaven then?” Killian noticed how Emma’s arm reflexively held Henry closer.

“I think,” he answered with a reassuring smile, “that we have been victorious so far. If there is one thing I believe in, it’s us.”

“I was tasked to protect him,” Emma reminded him.

“And you will.” His tone was confident, sure.

“You think so?” Her voice turned softer. He heard the surprise and doubt in it and it pained him.

“I’ve yet to see you fail.”

Her eyes searched his. He saw the moment she realized there was no lie in them. His eyes landed on her mouth as she licked her lips, unsure, afraid.

“We should get some rest,” Killian said, hoping to relieve the tension of the moment. He watched as her shoulders deflated. “It’s been a long day.”

Emma nodded. They were silent as they both found more comfortable positions. Henry hummed in displeasure at the disturbance but relaxed soon after. With a nod towards the still awake Arendellians, they fell asleep.

---

In the morning, they were awakened by the sun shining on the snow around them. Killian found his arm around Henry and his hand on Emma’s side. She awoke with Henry comfortably nuzzled against her chest. There was barely any distance between the three of them.

Their eyes met over Henry’s head and he could see panic in her eyes. As quickly and subtly as he could, Killian moved away from them.

“It was a cold night,” he justified, hoping she would know he didn’t think anything of it. Even if the fast beating of his heart reminded him of how he couldn’t lie to himself.

“Yeah,” Emma whispered in reply.

They resolved to let Henry sleep a bit longer. As he stood, he caught Elsa’s eyes as she woke and looked between him and Emma. He tried to remain calm.

“I’m going to fill our canteens,” Killian said, clearing his throat when his voice betrayed his feelings.

“I’ll go with you.”

Killian thinned his lips in consternation when he heard Elsa’s voice.

They were silent until they reached the river. Killian crouched to fill his group’s canteens before reaching for Elsa’s.

“I assume that,” Elsa began, “just as I was wrong about your relationship to Henry, that there is more than meets the eye about your relationship with Emma?” Her tone was non-judgemental and Killian focused even harder on the water, not meeting her gaze.

“We are simply allies. We want to protect Henry.” Killian’s tone was final but that didn’t seem to impress the Queen.

“That doesn’t mean that you don’t have feelings for her.”

Killian stood up with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter, we have to focus on protecting Henry.”

“Closing your heart isn’t the solution.” Elsa’s voice betrayed that her advice came from her own experience and his shoulders relaxed with that realization.

“We only met a few days ago and I don’t want to frighten her.”

“But you care for her.”

“I- We understand each other,” Killian confessed. He seemed to be doing that a lot. “She’s afraid and, honestly, so am I. As much as I care for her, I don’t want to pressure her.”

Elsa nodded. She understood, he could see it in her expression.

“We aren’t far from the castle. If we leave soon, we should arrive by lunch time.”

He nodded, glad she had changed the subject even as he regretted having to leave them.

“Our course has changed, we won’t be able to accompany you there.”

“Oh?”

“We are headed Southwest, to Misthaven to be more precise.”

Elsa nodded once more. “There is a port not far from here if you keep heading West.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” He bowed his head with a thankful smile.

“Take care, Killian, I expect to see you and the others again.” He could only nod with a small smile while Elsa took hold of the bottles for her group. “Come, let’s tell the others.”

---

Henry wasn’t shy about sharing his displeasure. Their trio didn’t want to separate from the sisters.

“But, we were going to Arendelle,” Henry pouted.

“Yes, lad, but we need to follow Cygnus, remember?” Killian’s hand on his head didn’t assuage his grouchiness.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Emma and Elsa smiled at the boy’s dramatics.

“I trust you will be safe?” Emma asked, glancing briefly towards Ingrid, who’d moved away slightly to give them space, but then looking towards Elsa for confirmation.

“Yes,” Elsa answered emphatically. “We are getting our kingdom back.”

“I want you to take Roger,” Killian interjected, even if his voice wasn’t completely sure.

“What?” All eyes turned to him in shock.

“Well,” he explained, scratching the back of his ear. “There is the matter of the prisoner,” he said, gesturing toward the still completely frozen prince, “and second, we’d have to come back for him.”

Elsa smiled and Anna opened her mouth, as if she was going to start saying something before being stopped by her sister. “You three are always welcome in our kingdom.”

He bowed his head towards her. “Thank you.”

“We’re really leaving Roger, too?” Henry looked up at him, his pout even stronger.

“We’ll take great care of him, Henry,” Anna assured him, with a smile.

“Okay.” Henry still didn’t seem happy but he stepped forward to hug Anna, his arms tight around her waist.

Leaving Emma and Henry to say their goodbyes, Killian appreciated the space to say an important goodbye himself.

Reaching the horse, Killian patted his head, his forehead on the horse’s. “Be a good lad for them, alright? I will come back for you, I promise.”

Roger nodded his head when Killian stepped back. His smile widened when the horse took a step forward to put his head over his owner’s shoulders. Killian’s arms went around the neck of the horse in a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He felt a tug on his trousers. Looking down, Killian saw Henry look up at him. “Can I give him a hug, too?”

“Of course, lad.”

It was with a full heart that he watched as Roger did the same to Henry. “Thank you, Roger. I’ll miss you.”

Henry’s whispers urged him to look away. He found Emma looking at him, her hand on the horse’s back. She smiled, an understanding smile that earned another in return.

They worked together to relieve Roger of the satchels, sharing the load between the two adults even as Henry insisted he could carry something. They ended up entrusting him with the water canteens.

With final hugs and goodbyes, they parted ways with the Arendelle royalty, hoping that they would see each other again soon.

“Where are we going now?” Henry asked from where he walked between the two adults.

“We’re going to Misthaven.”

---

"We are headed Southwest, to Misthaven to be more precise." Killian Jones' voice sounded from the mirror, even as all that was shown was the rippling blue sky overhead.

"It looks like we have guests to prepare for, mirror…"

Her grin was wide and dangerous, her hands curled over the balcony’s iron frame as she looked over her deserted kingdom, thoughts of revenge swirling in her head.

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