#but jesus got stabbed when he was already on the cross so like

[sbeana]

got bored on the plane and i drew these mock covers for gtn and my dad made me stop drawing because he was like "thats an awful lot of red. thats a lottttt of red"

#tlt #the locked tomb #art #gideon the ninth #tlt art #the locked tomb art #i did this very fast so pardon my uhmmmm yeah #shrek 2 soundtrack came on while i was drawing which was definitely adding something to the atmosphere #also ive come to the terrible realization that space lesbian jesus gideon hasnt been crucified yet. i thought she had been with the fence #but not i think the fence is her getting s #hhmmm wait she did nevremind #i was like oh wow so gideon/kiriona is gonna get crucified in alecto or something #because she only got stabbed with the spearpoint like the fence so far #but jesus got stabbed when he was already on the cross so like #idk. im religious in the sense that i wear a st benedict bracelet cus shits cool not anything else #whatver!!! i am going slowly insane

[undercoverpena]

adjusting.

soap mactavish x f!reader (squid!reader)

summary: soap has also seen cuddly you, arms wrapped all around him, keeping him as close as humanly possible. Even when the two of you were just friends. so, this is something else. 

an: set after yours to keep, but can be read as a standalone | established relationship, adjusting to going from friends to lovers. wordcount: 2.9k

soap mactavish masterlist

Soap hears, before he sees you.

Entering the briefing room expecting your face to meet his, finding everyone sent on the operation except you. 

It’s Ghost who crosses the room. Gently nodding at him to go to the side, mask still in place—arms folded across his chest as he explains. 

—But, she’s fine. Just twisted her ankle, badly. After we'd got out.

Deep down, Soap knew you had come up against worse—handled and grunted your teeth through things worse than even those. 

However, when he saw you hobbling awkwardly down the corridor—most likely against medical advice—something knotted inside of him. Because it’s different seeing it again.

Temporarily forgetting times when you’re hurt or injured, as he assumes you do with him. 

Like anyone who was dating someone, he hated seeing you in pain, wishing to forget it as soon as you were better. So, having to watch you try to push through it, stings. 

How? How’d she twist her ankle, Lt? Tripped on a tree root on her way to the heli. 

If you weren’t currently being seen to, and were with them all, he’d have laughed. Likely jabbed a finger into your side as Ghost filled them all in on the successful, but eventful mission. Instead, the first sight of you back on base was that of you limping and hissing in pain. 

“Y’shouldnt be walking on tha’—which, I imagine y’know.”

The way you pause, shoulders sinking as your head dips tells him all he needs to know. That you’ve sunk your pearly whites into your cheek, biting back a retort that would have been flung at him if he wasn’t… well him. 

He watches as your fingers curl into the wall, its crevices between each brick trying to carve under your nails. You’re still in your gear, likely not even having the chance to run fresh, clean water over your hands. 

Stopping just behind you, he places a comforting hand on your hip—feeling the heat from your body, even through the layers. Can even feel the grimace, the pain and annoyance bubbling furiously under the surface. Even if you try to hide it, he knows it’s there. 

He’s come well versed in Squid. 

“Mari—“

“Shut up, Soap.”

He does. 

Even if your voice is more exasperated than bossy or sharp. It’s tinged with heaviness, likely guilt too knowing you—probably already wrapping its way around you, pleading with you to apologise. 

“C’mere—“

“I’m fine, Johnny. Just…need to get to my room.”

“Lemme help.”

“No.” 

It comes out sharp. Sharper than he’s heard you be in a while.

You look over your shoulder at him, sighing heavily. "I've been shot. Stabbed. Fuckin... I'm so mad at myself."

Your words are all words and no air, and you almost look as though you’ll shoot him an apology. Almost—

He steals the words as he lifts you. One arm under your knees, the other supporting your back, the smallest oof leaving your mouth as he holds you close, floor coming away from your feet. 

“Steamin’ Jesus, yer stubborn.”

You glare, slowly weaving your hand around his neck. 

He’s missed it, your touch. 

Three days is barely anything after he's put up with longer, but it was only supposed to be one night instead of two. 

You shift in his hold, and he adjusts your knees in his arm. Wondering how much you’re hating that you’re enjoying it, that the pressure off your body is welcomed—

“Be careful of doorways.”

“If that’s a dig at me being clumsy, lass. Yer should rethink it. I’m not the one wit’ a twisted ankle.” 

“I’m not bridal picking up colleagues.”

“Colleagues, aye?” 

He watches it flash across your face—the guilt again. The adjustment harder than the two of you’d banked on, the settling now the two of you are something far more than friends.

“You… you know what I mean?” 

“I’ll let yer off—cause of the pain.” 

“How generous of you.” 

He leans close to you, contemplating something snarky back, but instead, he kisses your cheek. Pretty sure it means more than any quip could. 

He’s seen many sides of you. 

The frustrated, gnawing at your lip side. The funny, energetic side where your words are sharp and your middle finger is present.

Soap has also seen cuddly you, arms wrapped all around him, keeping him as close as humanly possible. Even when the two of you were just friends. 

So, this is something else. 

It’s like all of the versions of you are fighting to be at the front.

You smile, and then it’s robbed by frustration, and then you’re sharp and funny—making a joke about him being your bitch until you can walk. The jokes don’t land, because the light in your eyes isn’t there. 

He watches you struggle for far longer than he’d have liked, but he knows when to pick his battles. Once he’d gotten you to his room—not yours, like you’d said—he’d placed you on the bed and let you unknot your emotions. 

And Johnny hates it.

Nothing more that winds him up and creates an internal storm than being on the other side of the room, not able to help you. He’s leaning, purposefully digging his shoulder into the wall to keep him rooted; his arms folded as he watches you try and stuff elements of how you feel into various boxes. 

You need to do this—it’s something you always do. Behind the jokes, the smiles and the occasional middle-fingers, you’re always processing—stuffing and stifling things just so you can keep your head up and your shoulders from around your ears. 

So, as much as he hates it, he lets you do it. Doesn’t bother to move until you attempt to remove your boot, and then he’s across the short space in three strides.

Your eyes cut into him, all fuelled with anger and mounting annoyance at yourself. Your pupils attempt to slice through the air, but… they don’t. 

Because he’s not holding back, he’s not throwing up walls to keep you out. You do that enough for the two of them. 

“Want me t’remove yer sock, Mar?” 

You look conflicted, chewing a response before you swallow it—whatever you’d been about to say—and nod. His fingers slide up the back of your ankle gently, each movement so slow and cautious, afraid of spooking you, of brushing over something swollen as he takes hold of the band of your sock. 

It removes with relative ease as it unveils an angry, assorted blue-shaded bruise that’s spreading across your skin and bone. It takes all of him not to hiss, to not want to rub his own ankle in sympathy. 

“Looks worse than it is.” 

The purpling of your skin said otherwise. The angry swelling that shifted like jelly under your skin when he brushed his fingers over it. 

You meet his gaze then, no walls, no shields to keep him out—just pain flooding the space where there had been anger. And then, if something hadn’t already twisted his insides, your eyes filled with tears, one’s which stung and burned him as much as they did your cheeks. 

“Liar.”

You smirk, the smallest slither of the usual Squid. 

“We should ice it, Mari.” 

His eyes look up, seeing the signs of defeat beginning to spread over your features. Your eyes continue to shimmer, lips no longer curled up, and tiredness slowly kissing the skin under your eyes. 

“Hey… it’s alright, yer man-bitch is ‘ere.” 

For a second, you just stare, no smile, no smirk. And then, you’re burying your face in his neck, and his hand rises to cup the back of your neck. 

It’s natural, almost on-demand, that he begins to knead the skin with his fingers—circle those spots on your neck with his calloused touch. The ones that can either relax you or make you moan. His body uncomfortably leaning over yours, rather wishing he could lie you back, bring you over him, hold you as close as he normally would. 

“Can we just... cuddle?” 

Great minds… he thinks to himself. “Course we can, Mar. Don’t ‘ave t’ask me twice.” 

He brushes his lips against your forehead, feeling you soften against him as he eases you back, moving you with far more ease than you can manage. 

“I can handle a shower,” you had said, pausing at his bathroom door, clutching the handle in your hand as he watched you. 

Your weight all on your other leg, barely letting the sole of your foot meet the bare floor as you smiled as sweetly as you could. 

“You sure? Y’don’t need some soap with y’soap?”

You smirk, and it warmed him like the fucking sun. “I can’t wait to tell Ghost you just said that.”

Once the door shut, his smile faded. 

Body moving around his room, pulling out clothing you’d left—some purposeful, and some accidental. He found a t-shirt, shorts and some underwear, making a small pile on the edge of his unmade sheets as he listened to the spray of the water. 

He should be on the other side. His hands holding you up, taking the weight from your ankle. It’s what he’d suggested, offered. Your eyes looking at him, a little brighter thanks to your nap and some more pills. 

You haven’t got to always save me, Johnny. 

He knows that. 

Aware that you can more than handle yourself, but isn’t that what you do when you’re in love? Do you not take the burden, carry the weight until the person can lift up their own head? 

The words had almost left his lips to suggest so, but instead, he brushed his fingers over your skin. He felt the mission on your cheek before he kissed an I love you against your lips. 

Go on then, lass. I’ll be ‘ere.

You looked at him like you know. 

Your finger ghosted over your lower lip as though you also couldn’t get over the fact the two of you do that now. As though it hadn’t quite hit you either that the two of you aren’t hiding, aren’t concealing all that lived between you. 

He glances to the clock, threading his fingers together as he sits on the edge of his bed. 

Eventually, he calls out, “Y’alright, lass?” 

Waiting a beat, hearing the water turn off. 

“No. Think I perished down the plug hole,” you comment from behind the door, steam rushing out when you eventually open it. 

“Aye, y’hilarious y’ar—“

He feels them die, his words.

You standing, beads of water dripping down your body—falling down silver scars and toned muscles. Rolling across your hip bones, down your legs and passed your knees. It's your lips curling up, half-smirking as you stare at him with eyes full of flaming determination.

Steamin’ fuck.

His throat is dry, little point in trying to swallow, as he looks at you respectfully. Not that he wants to. 

He wants to take a fucking picture and then carve it into paper with a pencil. He wants to study you, have you stood there so he can draw you until he has to plunge his cock in you to get himself thinking straight. 

He’ll never tire of it—seeing you like this. A prize, one he was gifted and not won. Something he cherished before ever really having it, and now he does, not a soul can yank it from his grip. 

“I’m hungry,” you say, voice full of silk as the syllables bless his ears. “You hungry, baby?” 

Fuck is he. 

And then his eyes land on your ankle, the one twice as big as the other. He tells himself that’s the reason he’s standing, sliding his palms against your bare hips as he tries to keep a level-head. You make it hard—you make him hard. 

“Squid—“

“I’m okay,” you mutter, staring up at him through your lashes. “Promise.” 

“Can we.. can yer, just come over ‘ere—can make you feel good right over here.” 

Your smirk widens, tracing your lower lip with your tongue as you keep yourself stuck, soles glued to the floor. “No. Want it here, want you to fuck me right here, Johnny. Up against the wall, like we did before I left.”

But, it’s not like when you left, though. 

Then you didn’t have an ankle three times its size amassing a colour range close to a craft shop. And it takes every thought of Price’s moustache not to give in.

To not kiss you—not lift your injured leg over his hip and push your other one to the breaking point of holding you up. 

“If y’can just come ova’ ere—“

“Soap MacTavish. Are you fucking rejecting me?” 

He closes his eyes, releasing a sharp breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Because he’s not sure how to explain this without it going wrong. 

Without all the words leaving his mouth incorrectly and making you mad. Because technically, he fucking is. And he knows what an idiot that makes him. But also, you're hurt. And the way the two of you fuck, it's guaranteed to make it far worse.

“For now, lass, yes. But, you can’t even imagine how fuckin’ difficult tha’ is right now.” 

Your face shifts. Changes.

He watches as a storm eclipses your eyes—one full of thunder and lightning. One with a purpose to pull him under and drown him, fry the skin from his bones.

Johnny also half expects to be thrown across the room from the look on your face alone. 

But he’s quicker, bigger—stronger. Somewhat moving you before you can root yourself, half carrying and half dragging until you’re perched again, off your feet, on his bed. Him on his knees, right in front of you—staring at you on the same level. 

“I found y’some clothes?”  

You don’t speak. Don’t take them from him either. Your eyes morph into a knife as they try to plunge into him. 

He unfolds the t-shirt—the one from a concert you went to with Gaz. Your voice all animated as you told him about it once, promising him that you’ll show him videos off it on your laptop when you go home. 

Y’inviting me home, Mar? Course. This time mine, next time yours. Y’got it all planned out, aye? Yeah. Will even get you streaky bacon. Yer fuckin' glorious y'are.

You slide your arms through it, begrudgingly so. Your eyes not shifting from before the fabric goes over your face, to after. Just staring, cutting into him as if you’re the reason for all the wrong in the world. 

And he’d take it, even if he doesn’t want to. 

He’ll let you hate him if it means you’ll sit, and rest—like he knows you’ve been told to. That even if the two of you can follow it for tonight, tomorrow he can have your thighs clamping around his head as he makes you forget all about hating him, tree roots and swollen ankles. 

“You’re a bad boyfriend.” 

He smirks, watching your eyes soften. “The fuckin’ worst, lass.”

You just about smile—fighting it, clearly. 

“Wait—Boyfriend again, am I?” 

You shove him lightly, snatching the underwear from beside you to put in his hand. “You know I didn’t mean… just colleagues.” 

I know. His hands guiding your feet through your underwear as he hands it you to pull up. “Aye, we’re jus’ adjusting.” 

You nod, shifting in place as you pull them up onto your hips. Your hand rising to cup his cheek as he presses a kiss to your wrist.

The two of you in time returning to your places on the bed, the scent of his shampoo hitting his nose from your hair—your arm across his chest, fingers dancing on his ribs. 

“I should tell y’, when Lt told me y’were with the medics—“ he whispers, his hand clutches yours, bringing it to his chest, right over where his heart is currently pounding into your palm. “Heart almost stopped.”

You look up at him, almost in disbelief. The look makes him wonder if he’s done a shit job of making you believe he’s all in, or whether—like him—you can’t believe it’s real. 

“I’m not leaving you, Johnny.” 

“Aye, best not. B’ shit of yer to make me fall in love wit’ you, and then y’leave me with those bastards.”

You laugh, it bristling over him. “Gaz isn’t terrible.” 

“He’s not you, though.” 

You roll your eyes, before closing them, burying yourself more into him. “There’s no one like me, Johnny.” 

“Aye. Y’one of a kind, Mar.” 

You sigh, a murmur of a noise leaving you—and he almost asks, almost questions. But decides against it, slowly counting in his head from 1 to 100, unsurprised that he only makes it to 62 before you’re asleep. 

"Night, hen," he whispers into your wet hair.

Slowly closing his eyes, listening to your soft breaths as he lets his muscles relax for the first time since you left.

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish #soap x reader #cod soap x reader #cod soap x f!reader #cod soap #cod x reader #soap cod x reader #soap cod #soap squad #soap 🧼 #soap sunday

[havecourage-darling]

What You Meant To Me // Eddie Munson

Prompt: Person A is a famous celebrity who is being stalked by someone. Their team doesn’t want to make it obvious that they hired a bodyguard, so Person B goes undercover as their lover 

I saw this on @creativepromptsforwriting​ and IMMEDIATELY thought of Eddie.

exes to strangers to bodyguard to ???? || Masterlist || AO3

warnings: light smut at the end, implied sexual content || Mayfield! Adopted Female Reader, Rockstar! Eddie, canon compliant

///

“YOU’VE got to be shitting me,” Eddie said, eyes going to Robin. “Buckley-”’

“It’s out of my hands Munson,” she said, crossing her arms, “besides, this isn’t a joke. This is the fourth time these people have tried something.”

Eddie rubbed a hand down his face. “It’s just a couple of fans! This is ridiculous. The guys aren’t getting some person following them around.”

“The guys didn’t come back to their home and find a girl naked in their bed-”

“-that’s a gross simplification-”

“She had a knife, Eddie,” Robin snapped, her voice shaking. Eddie glanced up at his friend and manager. She glanced around the room to the rest of his publicity team. “Can you guys give us a moment?”

Eddie watched Robin’s hand tremble just slightly as the rest of the interns, managers, and coordinators filed out the room – Mike shot him a sympathetic look before closing the door behind him.

“I am assigning you a bodyguard for around the clock watch until the end of the tour,” she started, explaining the process and how it’ll be from now on.

Groaning, Eddie let his head loll to the side and watched as Robin continued, ignoring him like the professional she was.

He had to give it to her – she wasn’t wrong per say. He was starting to get major mental instability vibes from these two. It was always the same couple – a man and a woman who sent him unnerving amounts of fan mail about how God had sent them a message that he was meant to join them in a throuple. All he had wanted to do was play guitar for a living, now he had clinically insane people breaking into his apartment and taking fucking naps in his hotel room.

There was a small part of him, a very small part, that was a little relieved. It was extremely unsettling to have people be so obsessed with any morsel of information that they could find about you. Eddie had fought hard to have a peaceful life and he didn’t relish in feeling the need to look over his shoulder every two seconds again.

A sharp thwack to his head had him stumbling out his thoughts. “Ouch! Robin!” He hissed, rubbing his ear.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Honestly, no,” Eddie admitted. “All I heard was you’re getting an undercover bodyguard and she’ll pretend to be your girlfriend so you’re not stabbed to death in some ritual. This person is going to have to be following after me every second of the day – that’s…you know how I feel about new people in our circle.”

Robin sighed, shooting him a knowing look. “I know you all value your privacy and it’s my job to help protect that. But we still have two months left on this leg of the tour. They keep fucking finding you and we have no idea how. The security the label keeps sending is baffled at how they’re doing it – we don’t need a professional, we need an expert.”

“Robin-”

“I didn’t help carry you out of that hellhole and keep you from bleeding out on Harrington’s seats for you to get stabbed on me now,” Robin said softly, her eyes betraying her anxiety. Eddie sighed. Jesus Christ, she’d pulled out the big guns. “International dates go on sale at the end of this month – you four are just going to get more popular at this rate. The rest of this leg is officially sold out; this is what happens when you’re good, Munson – you’re famous now. Everything is changing. We need to take precautions.”

The pain in his temple took another jab at him. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along and be part of a happy couple or whatever.”

Robin grinned and he sighed. “Great. I’ve already called a company and they’re sending their best employee over tomorrow. We’ll meet her at nine, sharp. Do not be late.”

“Tomorrow?” Eddie sputtered. Wasn’t the point of this meeting to get his approval?

She shot him a look as she stood and walked to the door. “I’m sorry, did you think you were in charge here? You signed a losing deal the day you agreed to let me be your manager Munson. Suck it up, Buttercup. You got yourself a bodyguard.”

///

You hated being left in the dark.

The whole nature of your job – your profession – was to know everything at every moment. You were hypervigilant; a side effect of being a pseudo monster hunter for a good chunk of your childhood.

So, when Hopper called you up for a special assignment, you found it odd that he’d refused to give you any details. There was no file, no briefing, no notes for you to have any idea on what this assignment was about. He said they needed an experienced female agent, that it was very under wraps, and they were currently in Atlanta for the next two days - which what a coincidence, there you were. You’d been closing out the paperwork on your previous assignment – the youngest daughter of a senator – when he’d called.

Not one to shy away from a challenge, but not liking the secrecy, you had asked Hopper to assign it to someone else. You had a few years of experience on Johnson but you’d trained her yourself – she wouldn’t let anyone down.

“It has to be you, Mayfield,” Hopper said, voice tinny like it always was when he called from Hawkins. “Do it for me.”

Hopper never called in favors. Never. So, you were both interested and mildly disgruntled as you rode up a fancy glass elevator into a massive building. It was clear they – whoever they were – had money and needed discretion. But that wasn’t new to you.

By the sight of the rented office, your guess was either musician or a writer.

You had barely put a foot out the elevator when a blur of dark blonde hair slammed into you. It was only the familiar sound of someone screaming your name that kept you from body slamming her into the floor next to you.

“Robin?” You asked incredulously. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen you in-”

“Years? Three to be exact,” she said, squeezing you once more before stepping back and shooting you a knowing look. “Once you get running, you really don’t stop do you?”

You rolled your eyes at the jab. You had a standing weekly phone call with Robin and Harrington, the three of you adamant on not losing touch despite the fact that two of you travelled so often. Wait, the reason Robin hadn’t been around to meet up was because she’d become…

Straightening, you barely controlled the scowl on your face. “I’m going to kill Hopper.”

Completely unbothered, Robin linked her arm through yours. “If we told you – you wouldn’t have come. I don’t know why you two avoid each other like the plague but it needs to be you. We need someone we can trust. Please, just hear us out?”

“Robin,” you groaned.

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t serious.”

At that, you perked up. She was right, she didn’t know – no one knew – what had happened between you two but she had always been respectful of the boundaries you’d set. No matter how stupid. So, if she was asking, it was important.

“Fine. I’ll hear you out,” you promised, rolling your eyes when she grinned like she’d already won.

Who were you kidding? You’d do anything for Robin – for any of them. It was part of the trauma bond at this point. Without giving you a chance to change your mind, Robin led you down a hall and into a massive conference room.

You squinted at the brightness, the entire room looked like it was made from glass, the view of downtown Atlanta impressive and beautiful. As your eyes adjusted, you knew that no amount of preparation or notes would’ve prepared you for the sight of Eddie Munson.

It’d been ten years and your heart still jumped up at his presence.

His dark gaze was on yours immediately and it brought you back to the last time you’d seen him. He’d been cleared of all charges and given the green light to go home. You’d walked in on him while he was adjusting to walking again, torso littered with bandages. You’d gone to tell him you were leaving and you’d never forget the look in his eyes-

“Mayfield!”

You found yourself in the middle of a group hug, one led by Gareth – someone you’d actually seen in the past few years. Jeff was at your side while Liam and Mike were squishing themselves in the best they could.

“Hey boys,” you said, not able to keep your laugh down. “It’s been a long time.”

“I saw you two months ago,” Mike said and you watched Eddie’s eyes narrow at that.

Jeff snorted. “It’s been a good handful of years for me. Last I saw of you, you were kicking someone’s ass on Hollywood Boulevard.”

“In my defense-”

“- they started it,” Jeff and Liam chorused.

You grinned, happy to be around people who you knew so well. People that knew you – before…before it all went to shit. They all herded you over to the table, sitting you down next to Robin.

Eddie, across the table nodded. “Mayfield.”

“Munson,” you said, just as detached.

“This is going to be fun,” Gareth whispered.

Eddie shot him a withering glare and you decided to be the only adult in the room and ignored them all.

“This is our plan,” Robin said, sliding you the thick file.

With a grimace, you pulled a pair of glasses from your small purse and shot Jeff a pointed look when he giggled.

“Didn’t know you wore glasses,” Robin said, her own teasing smile growing.

“I usually wear contacts but today was supposed to be my day off,” you said, pointedly, and shrugged. “I only need them at night or when I’m tired. I – well, Harrington and I had one too many concussions it seems.”

Robin and Mike nodded, sympathetic and understanding. Eddie, however, stilled.  

“So, what do you think? I put together the plan after the most recent incident.

“Who’s seen this?” You asked.

Robin glanced at the band and Mike. “Everyone in this room.”

“That’s it?”

She nodded. “I don’t know how they keep getting to them – obviously Eddie’s is the more dire but, I’m keeping my cards close.”

Distracted by the most recent bout of disturbing fan mail, you nodded. The words ‘FAKE GIRLFRIEND, UNDERCOVER’ blared at you. Grip tightening on the file, you frowned. You couldn’t be his girlfriend – it wasn’t…surely at this point it wasn’t ethical. You both hadn’t been around each other since you packed up, wrapped your little sister in metaphorical bubble wrap, and got the hell out of Hawkins. You were about to tell Robin that you couldn’t do it, that your subordinate would be more than capable – when you saw Eddie’s statement.

Officer F. Jacobs: What happened after that?

E. Munson: Nothing happened, I ran out of there and called the fucking cops. This is so violating; she was in my house man! She touched my shit. I don’t know if anything is missing or if he did anything to my stuff – this is the third time I’ve found them. I just want to be left alone.

Your chest tightened at the crime scene photos, clearly of Eddie’s apartment with the front doorknob unscrewed from its hinge. You’d clearly taken too long to respond because Robin had launched into a pitch on how they really needed your help.

“It pays really well!” She added on, her brows jumping up when you shot her a look. “Mayfield, please-”

Eddie straightened. “She clearly doesn’t want to do it, Robin, just let her-”

Fucking shit, you cursed. You might’ve left Hawkins behind but your loyalty to this group ran deep and you knew that Hopper knew that.

“I’ll do it,” you said, interrupting the growing fight between Robin and Eddie. Silence fell, everyone’s eyes swinging around to you. “I’ll need to fly back to Headquarters – whatever. I can do it I just need a few hours to get everything in order. I need a schedule of every single stop you have from here until the end of the tour.”

“That file is your copy, the only copy, and it has all the information you’ll need,” Robin said, looking delighted.

“Uh, wait-” Eddie sputtered but you all ignored him.

“The proposal here indicates that you want our office to completely overhaul your security protocol?” You asked, blinking down at the text in your hands. “Are you sure? What about the record label?”

Robin’s eyes flashed. “They’re clearly incompetent and if we’re going to be spending money, I want to spend it on people I trust.”

“They’re willing to foot the bill? For an overhaul? And my tailing him for two months?”

Nodding, Robin crossed her arms. “Corroded Coffin has had a very sudden and very quick rise to popularity. Six songs from their second album are on the top one hundred charts. It’s only going to grow from there. We’ve officially sold out the remainder of this tour and will likely sell out the international one. Anyone we have on staff now is trustworthy because they’ve grown with us. The security the label keeps sending are idiots and I don’t trust them.”

You sighed, trying to work out who was on roster back in Los Angeles. “Well, we don’t specify in full team security, I’ll tell you that. We’re a small company and we work internationally – there’s only about five I can call from California on hand now. Everyone else is on assignment. Shit, half of us are scattered around western Europe. Actually, make that four because I need to assign someone to the jobs I now can’t take. I do…know people who can lend a helping hand though. People you can trust,” you assured her.

Hares Security was not the biggest company but in the past ten years you’d been able to cultivate a loyal list of clients. Hopper started the private security firm a few years after the…earthquake. He hadn’t wanted to return to public service and being a cop was all he knew. He’d offered you a job straight out of college and had been grooming you to take over as head of the company for when he’d go into retirement.

You knew he needed someone he could trust to keep everything afloat since he’d started bouncing between Hawkins, California, and Rhode Island – where Will was a master’s student at the Rhode Island School of Design.

Jesus, this was an entire overhaul of their system. Not that they had a good one in place to start with. From the looks of it, the security team that had been assigned to them were all inexperienced and practically useless. Some had mall experience. Who the hell hired these people?

“Okay, I’ll sound the alarm and we’ll have people incoming in the next twenty-four hours. I need to talk to Hopper though and let him know what I’ve got in mind. Is this the hotel you’re all staying at?” You asked, brows rising at the fancy hotel downtown.

Robin’s head bobbed. “They’ve got some recording to do this afternoon but we’ll be there by eight for an early night. We have an morning flight to New York City.”

“Alright,” you said, standing and tucking the file under your arm. You reached out to ruffle Mike’s hair – smiling when he grumbled. “I’m going to make some calls, fly back home and gather the arsenal. I’ll see you all in New York.”

Pointedly ignoring Eddie’s stare, you pressed a quick kiss to Robin’s head and walked out the room.

The doors to the elevator had barely closed when you pulled out your StarTAC and aggressively punched in Hopper’s number.

“Hey kiddo.”

You scowled, hoping he could hear it. “This was low. Even for you.”

“I see you’ve found out the details of your new assignment.”

“How do you know I’ve even taken it? What if I’m reassigning it to Johnson?”

“Because it’s you. You never do things half-assed.”

Fucking fuck, you hated how well Hopper knew you sometimes. “This is wildly unprofessional.”

“So is my favoritism to you but you never complain about that.”

You sputtered and growled when his tinny laugh echoed through your phone. “Asshole.”

“Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened with Munson but they need your help. Help I know only you can give. If you really want out, let me know and I’ll fly down there myself.”

Jesus, this really was bad if Hopper himself was willing to sub in.

“I can do it,” you said, mildly insulted, “I’m a professional unlike some people.”

“Right,” he said, tone amused.

Rolling your eyes, you cradled the phone between your shoulder and stalked out the lobby. “This is going to be a major lift, Hop, I’m going to need all hands-on deck and outsource some general security. People we can trust and maybe some military experience for some of the larger concerts. This is…gonna be a lot.”

“Fly out whoever you need to. Buckley and the suit at the label assured me that there’s no limit. You know where to find me if you need me.”

Rubbing the headache blooming at your temples, you shut your phone and sighed. You could do this. You could protect and be Eddie’s security detail. You were a goddamn professional.

///

“I can’t believe you got Henderson to fly out for cyber security,” Robin said, watching from the lighting control stage as Gareth let Dustin mess around on the drums.

You bit back a smile when you saw Jeff wrap him up in a headlock. Immature children, all of them. “They all owe me favors until the day I kick it,” you said, turning to her, “including you.”

“Hey!”

“Besides, NASA’s headquarters is in D.C., that’s a short train ride. Dustin’s the best at this stuff, whatever he comes up with has been Suzie approved and between the two of them any holes you have in any virtual world will be covered.”

Footsteps alerted you to someone approaching. “Mayfield?” A familiar voice called out. You turned to see Johnson approaching you, clipboard in hand.

“Everything set?”

“Yes. Julian’s team should be here shortly and we’ll help them familiarize themselves with the venue,” she said, handing over the clipboard.

Glancing down at your checklist, you were pleased to see that the small team you’d assembled had already covered a lot of ground. Yang had even sent someone ahead to the Texas venue to scout out any major possible issues.

“Good job Johnson,” you said, watching as she stood up a little straighter, “you’ve got all the angles covered. I’m placing you in charge of anything I can’t get ahold of while I’m on personal security. You’ve got my number, call me if anything comes up.”

“Sure boss,” she said, jetting off towards the loading dock.

You could practically feel Robin’s grin. “Just say it,” you sighed.

“I knew you were practically the head of the company, it’s just so different to see it in action. You’re someone’s boss,” Robin said.

Rolling your eyes, you turned to her. “You’re the manager of one of the biggest bands at the moment, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Uh no, you have like – a gun,” she whispered, “you’re like a karate master or something. I still trip over their mic wires sometimes.”

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m a black belt in Judo, not Karate and I distinctly remember all three of us in blue sailor uniforms serving ice cream at Starcourt. Once you’ve been humbled that profoundly, there’s no coming back.”

“That’s true,” Robin snorted, bumping her shoulder with yours. “So, you ready for the next two months?”

“Nope, but I’m here anyway.”

“And that’s why I love you the most,” Robin said, ducking when you reached out to whack her.

///

No amount of warning or prepping could’ve prepared you for being alone with Eddie for the first time, in a decade.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, eyes apologetic. “I didn’t know if you’d accept and there were no rooms left available at the hotel. I was going to try to move us to downtown but our flight is after the show – it’s only a few hours-”

Stopping her increasingly frantic stumbling, you’d grabbed her hands and assured her that you could make do for the night. She almost folded under the gratitude and swore you’d always have the requested adjoining room from now on.

“Alright, see you two tomorrow,” Gareth said, swiping his card to the room and disappearing through it.

Eddie cleared his throat and you sighed. Okay, you could be the mature one if you needed to be. Holding out your hand, Eddie blinked at you. “What?”

“Give me the card.”

His brow quirked. “I can open the door on my own.”

“I know, smartass, I need to do a sweep of the room before you go in,” you said, “did you read the file I gave you?”

Eddie crossed his arms defensively. “I- it was a big file!”

Biting back a laugh, not wanting to encourage the bad behavior, you wiggled your hand again and he sighed. Opening the room, you shoot him a death stare when he went to step behind you. Sticking his hands up, he stood by the door as you made your way through the sitting room, the bathroom, the closet, and the bedroom.

“It’s clear,” you told him, ducking to double check under the bed. Eddie walked in, eyes zeroing in on your shoulder piece as you stood back up.

“Is that a gun?” His voice squeaked towards the end.

Nodding, you made way towards the sitting room and plopped down onto the sofa. “I don’t usually carry one but your situation is a bit different.”

“Enough to warrant a gun?”

Your eyes shot to his and you crossed your arms. “I’m head of your security and these people squirmed their way in with a knife, Eddie. What about that are you not understanding?”

Eddie grumbled something inaudible.

“Is it because I’m a girl or because I’m…me?”

His eyes raised to yours and he shook his head. “Neither,” he said adamantly, “you’ve always – even back then – you…you never liked bullies.” He made his way over to his duffel bag and grabbed a handful of clothes. Hesitating by the bathroom, he turned to you and you waved a hand.

“You can take the bathroom first,” you assured him, “I’m going to confirm everything is set for our ride to JFK.”

By the time you’d confirmed everything for tomorrow, showered, and had your nightly tea, you were exhausted. Eddie popped out from the bathroom, smelling like mint, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from dropping to his now bare arms.

The scars were clearly old, healed, but they were still visible enough for you to see from your position on the floor. Guilt roared in your chest and a lump settled in your throat.

“What are you doing?” He asked, feet coming to a stop by your head.

“I’m getting ready for bed?” You said, propping yourself up on your elbow from the makeshift bed you’d made from extra pillows and some of the couch cushions.

“That’s on the floor,” he said, glancing at the bed, “you can just take-”

“Eddie.”

“-you can’t just sleep on the floor-”

“Eddie…”

“-you have a bad shoulder, I remember. Besides you can’t always guard me from the floor-”

“Eddie!” You watched his jaw snap closed and you nodded towards the bed. “Listen, after this one time we’ll have adjoining rooms – that we’ll need to keep open – but I promise not to ruin your love life or whatever. I’ve done this for years now. I know how to make myself scarce and as unintrusive as possible so my clients don’t feel like their lives are turned around.”

You watched in fascination as his skin turned a violent shade of red. “That’s – I don’t – I wouldn’t – I’m not-” he stuttered, hands flailing around.

“Right, you’re the only celibate rockstar in the industry,” you said, goading him. Eddie’s flailing increased as he tried to explain what he meant.

A pang of nostalgia shot through you as he stammered through his explanation poorly. Money, fame, music aside – it was comforting to see that even after all these years, Eddie was still Eddie.

His stammering stopped as he saw your smile and he rolled his eyes. “You little shit.”

“How dare you,” you said, fluffing up your pillow, glad that some of the ice between you two had cracked. Like it or not, you were going to be his shadow for the next two months.

“You were fucking with me,” he said, gaping. “I – Mayfield.”

“Go to sleep, we’ll be up in five hours anyway to start the interviews then we’re on a flight to Texas,” you told him, gently nudging him away with your hand. He stumbled, as if burned, and hesitatingly sat on the bed.

“Are you sure-”

“Ed’,” you said, the old nickname rolling off your tongue, “go to sleep. I’ve slept in worst places than a four-star hotel’s floor.”

His brows rose, shock flittering across his expression before settling. “Yeah?”

You nodded, turning onto your side so the door was in your sight. “Last year I was on a team for a minor royal, she had no qualms about who was present during her sexual escapades.”

Eddie laughed and your stomach fluttered. Shutting your eyes tightly, you beat the sudden rise of emotion back into submission.

You were going to kill Hopper when this was over.

///

Late night talk shows were the worst, you decided. Anxiety ricocheting as the studio’s security argued with your team behind you.

Forgetting that you were playing a part, you’d almost stepped in when the security guard shouted at Johnson. Forcing yourself to smile and walk in with the band, you reminded yourself to take a few more undercover assignments in the future – your skills were getting rusty.

“You don’t at all look like you want to murder someone,” Mike said, stepping up next to you from the wings of the stage.

“Is it that obvious?”

Mike snorted. “I don’t think you’ve taken your eyes off of him from the moment we got in.”

“They’re being stubborn. Doesn’t all talent have their own security team?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder and watching Johnson hold her own. “What’s the issue with us? Besides, I’ve counted like three massive holes in their system.”

“Calm down Terminator,” he said, bumping your shoulder. Eddie’s laughter drew your attention back to him as the audio assistant set him up with a mic and explained how the cues were going to go.

The boys were on the second stage to the left, assuring themselves that their equipment had all arrived unscathed and were tuned to perfection.

“Hey, Boss!” You turned towards your newly acquired nickname – thanks to Jeff who had refused to listen to you until you’d let him know you were the boss. You were never living it down – and saw Eddie waving you over.

“This is uh, my girlfriend,” Eddie said, introducing you to Conan O’Brien.

You stepped forward, smile settled in your features, and shook his hand. Coming to Eddie’s side, you mumbled, “you’re a natural,” as Conan settled into his chair.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“You call your girlfriend Boss?” Conan joked. “That’s either really smart or sarcastic enough to earn me a slap.”

Smiling and stepping forward, you cross your arms playfully. “He knows who’s in charge,” you winked. Eating it up, Conan guffawed.

Eddie grumbled awkwardly behind you and you smacked his shoulder with the back of your hand. “Besides, he brings me everywhere – we can’t live without each other, right pumpkin?”

“Right,” he said dryly.

Conan began talking about his own girlfriend, sitting in the green room backstage, when something in the corner of your eye caught your attention.

Your instinct won and you turned to find a woman with blonde hair running straight to you. Without much thought, your training kicked in and before anyone could step in, you had her on her stomach with a knee to her back.

“Eddie! Eddie! I love you!” She screamed, hysterically crying despite the pressure you applied to her spine. Jesus, she had a set of lungs on her. You were impressed.

A portly man shuffled forward, his eyes wide as saucers, “Uh, Miss, I can take it from here.”

“Oh,” you remembered, eyes darting up to Eddie’s. His brown eyes were dilated, mouth gaping a little, and he was frozen. Stumbling at his reaction, you tried to dust yourself off and shot a bewildered Conan a grin. “Sorry about that!”

“That’s some form you’ve got there!” Conan exclaimed, hands going up. “Man, the Giants could sure use some defense like you.” His eyes darted down your figure and you fought the urge to roll your eyes when a warm hand came across your shoulders.

“Yeah, she’s something alright,” Eddie said, pulling you into his side. “I’m lucky to have her.”

Message clearly received, you shot up a surprised look and let yourself be ushered off stage by a PA. Robin had arrived, standing there with an impressed glint in her eyes.

“Shut up,” you muttered at her.

She held her hands up, her suit moving with her, “I didn’t say anything!”

“Are you okay?” You spun around and almost stumbled into Eddie, his hands coming out to steady you.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry – it was instinct. I didn’t mean – I shouldn’t have hit her so hard,” you said, feeling weirdly off kilter.

Eddie scratched the back of his head, a sign you knew was a habit for when he was feeling uncomfortable. “It’s okay. I just, was worried you – uh, for you,” he said, stilted.

“For fuck’s sake,” Robin said, blowing air out of her lips, “you two are so awkward it’s actually painful. You’re not strangers, you were friends at some point, just pop the goddamn elephant you two have in the room and get over it. Nothing about this, screams romance.”

With a dramatic hair flip and a roll of his eyes, Eddie ignored her, shot you another look, and walked off when you’d nodded.

Robin sighed. “Jesus, it’s like we’re in high school all over again. I can’t deal with the tension a second time around Mayfield, I can’t.” She continued to grumble but you kept your eyes on Eddie as he climbed up the sound stage and settled his guitar over his shoulder.

Robin’s words echoed in your mind - you were friends at some point.

Your history with Eddie Munson was a little more complicated than most knew. Eddie had been your friend but he’d been more than your friend. He was your almost.

The first few chords rung through the stage and everyone in the audience went wild. You closed your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek. “Hello New York City! I’m guessing by the sound of that you know what song we’re going to play. Don’t be shy now, sing along!”

Now and then I think of when we were together

Like when you said you felt so happy you could die

Like the best kind of torture, you watched Eddie’s fingers wrap around the mic, his eyes sliding closed.

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness

Like resignation to the end, always the end

You’d heard the song, because of course you had you didn’t live under a rock. Hearing it live, however, cut a little deeper than your stereo at home. At least at home you could have a drink in hand.

But you didn't have to cut me off

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

And I don't even need your love

But you treat me like a stranger, and that feels so rough

Robin’s eyes slid to you and they felt like two honing signals. You didn’t want to watch anything dawn on her – you hadn’t made it this far to fall apart now. Not over a song.

“I’m going to go wait in the green room, okay?” Robin nodded, her eyes following you as you left.

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

///

The flight to Texas had been long and after the day you’d had – you were dead on your feet. But, because the universe didn’t know how ever give you a break, you found yourself doing a sweep of Eddie’s hotel room before herding him inside.

Gareth’s room had needed sudden repairs and while he’d offered up to bunk with Jeff – you’d given him your adjoining room. It was only for a night, his room would be available tomorrow morning, and you knew that being close to the client was never a bad thing.

You’d shower in the morning, unable to think of more than just brushing your teeth and falling face first into your pillow. Especially considering that you had an early wake up call to go take a look at the new venue.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked, watching you settle into the sofa in the makeshift sitting room. This one was actually big enough that you could use as a bed for the night – it was a step up from the floor.

Not this again. “Munson, I’ll be fine.”

Eddie scowled and you felt your pulse jump. “It’s a California king mattress Mayfield, just get up here.”

“No,” you said, stubbornly.

Sighing, Eddie flopped onto the bed and you thought that would be the end of it until – “We’ve slept in the same bed before. One much smaller than this. In a trailer park. For months. Get your ass up here.”

“Eddie-”

“I saw you twinge. I know your back probably hurts from that defensive tackle.”

Eye twitching at the memories of you curled around Eddie in his small bedroom, you sat up. “What do you know about sports?”

“It’s been ten years,” he said, deadpan.

“Tigers don’t change their stripes.”

“For fuck’s sake – just get up here,” he groaned, flopping back down onto the pillow.

The twinge in your shoulder screamed for the softness of the bed but your mind was telling you this was a bad idea. It didn’t matter that you’d shared beds before – this was still a client.

“I know how to keep my hands to myself,” he said, tone defensive.

“Oh my God,” you scowled, despite knowing that he was playing you. You got up and padded over to the other side of the – admittedly – huge bed. “Fine!”

Grinning Eddie revealed a small heating pad. “I asked the front desk to have one sent up. It helps me with my shoulder too. After a while they get sore from performing so often,” he said, handing it over a little sheepishly.

Completely bowled over and shocked, you reached for it and arranged it onto your sore shoulder. The heat immediately soothed the surface ache and you smiled at him. “Thank you,” you said.

Awkward, and a little embarrassed with your earnest tone, the two of you broke eye contact.

“I’ll shut off the lights,” Eddie mumbled, hauling himself out and returning once the room had gone dark.

Two minutes in you knew there was no way either of you were going to get any sleep with the tension as thick as it was.

Put your big girl pants on, you shouted at yourself. But your tongue felt stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“Robin’s right,” Eddie said, breaking the silence first.

You nodded, despite the fact that you knew he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, we should…talk about it?”

There was a beat of silence before Eddie exhaled. “I wrote that song a long, long time ago. I was in a different head space and of course, it became one of our hits from the debut album.”

Shutting your eyes, you realized you had finally gotten the answer to a question you didn’t know you’d even wanted an answer for.

“It’s okay,” you said, because it was.

Eddie continued, a hand shooting up in the air, illuminated by the soft moonlight. “I just needed a way to cope with your absence and-”

You reached out, touching his hand softly. “You’re a great songwriter, Eddie. I would never hold that against you.”

“Oh,” he breathed, a small sigh coming out after. “Thanks.”

It seemed that even after all these years, you still knew Eddie well enough. “Just ask me,” you said softly into the silence.

“Why?” He asked eventually.

“Why what?”

“Why was I the only one who you avoided? When you left…you said you needed to get out and I tried really hard not to feel like I was being abandoned but, after a few years everyone seemed to reconnect with you. Except for me.”

Turning onto your side to face him, you watched him turn his head towards you – eyes incredibly sad.

“I didn’t, at least not purposefully,” you admitted. “When we left, I hid away. I left my mom and Max and buried myself in school. I became a shell of a person, I-I’m not proud of things I did but I was in survival mode. I started studying to become a psychologist and that was my life for four years. As horrible as it sounds, I didn’t really reach out to everyone else. They found me - they forced me back into being a human. They searched me out and once I was back among the living it felt like it’d been too long to just pick up where we had left off. How did I start to apologize for just leaving like that?”

Eddie smiled sadly at you. “I understand, in a way. We weren’t exactly easy to find either, you in California and me traveling around with the guys. I…I asked Steve once,” he admitted, “I knew you’d given me an abbreviated story about what had happened before ’86. After he told me, I wasn’t as mad, I was just…sad. You really undersold the story in that little shack.”

“I’m not belittling what we’ve been through, what you’ve been through, but Vecna was my fourth round,” you said, breathing unsteady, “so many people died. Barb…she hurt the most. I could tell Billy’s death had cut Max deeper than she was letting on.”

Eddie’s hand came up to yours and you realized you were shaking.

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. I stayed in that town after everything, after Billy, and I know it’s not an excuse but it feels like Hawkins is cursed. I saw you on the floor, in Dustin’s lap, and my world just crumbled.”

His eyes softened. “Sweetheart…”

“We took you to the hospital and I sat there for days going back and forth between your room and Max’s. I just – I couldn’t let that town take anyone else from me. I wouldn’t survive it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I let so much time go by before I woke up. I’m sorry I didn’t push my way back into your life like I should’ve.”

Shaking his head, Eddie’s hand squeezed yours. “I’m sorry for not trying harder. For not seeing how deeply you hurt and only focusing on my own.”

Despite your restraint, you felt tears burn your eyes. “We made a mess of it.”

“Yeah, but even messes can be beautiful in their own way.”

Because of course he’d say the right thing. The ice around you two cracked and more pieces fell to the waiting ocean below. Eyes slipping closed, you had a brief burst of relief in your chest.

Which was promptly stomped upon when your alarm jerked you awake a few hours later. Lifting your arm, you patted around the night table until you hit something warm.

“Ouch,” Eddie grunted, “turn it off.”

Lifting your head, confused, last night came back to you in a rush. Glancing down, you realized that the pressure around your waist was Eddie’s arm. You were tucked into his chest, your legs tangled, and head tucked under his chin. The same way you used to when you’d climb in through his window in the trailer park. Like no time had passed. Then you were suddenly aware of another insistent pressure on your waist.

“Turn it off,” Eddie grumbled again, voice muffled by your hair.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, “I need you to let me go.”

Eddie’s grip tightened before it immediately disappeared and you both flung yourselves to opposite ends of the bed.

“I’m sorry – uh, oh shit,” he tumbled off the bed, popping up awkwardly. “I’m just going – I’m – I need a shower. Right. Okay.”

You watched him scurry into the ensuite and dropped your head back down to the bed, groaning. You knew you should’ve slept on the fucking floor.

So much for less awkward.

///

Robin cornered you both during rehearsals.

“What is this?” She said, smacking a magazine down. There, on a spread in the pages, were you and Eddie looking like you barely knew each other.

TROUBLE IN PARADISE?

“It’s been a week since they’ve known about me,” you huffed, looking through the poor pictures of you. “How could they know? Oh look, it says we’ve been dating for two years. Apparently, sources say you met me at a coffee shop. How quaint.”

Eddie grunted, eyes darting across the pages.

“Yeah, and who the hell is going to believe that with you two looking like you’d rather be dead?” Robin exclaimed.

“That feels like an exaggerated statement, and that’s coming from me,” Eddie said, frowning.

Robin’s hands came out to snatch the magazine from under your noses. You flinched and Eddie’s hand came up to steady you. “We need to stage some shots. You’ll need to go on a date. Something under the radar, cute, ‘they’re just like us’ type of thing.”

“I am technically just like them,” you pointed out to deaf ears. Eddie’s hand squeezed your shoulder and his small smile made your chest tighten.

“Don’t you think that’s a little gross? Staging shots?” Eddie asked.

“That’s how we get ahead of this. We control the narrative. There’s something else too – this was mailed to the office,” Robin said, clearing her throat. She placed a large manila envelope down and you sorted through it.

“Oh!” You said, straightening, “it’s hate-mail!”

Eddie’s brows flew up. “And you’re happy about that?”

“It means we’re doing something right,” you hummed, looking at the crude images and chunks of hair taped to the letter. “Robin might be right. We should do this and see if we aggravate them further.”

“Are you insane?”

You frowned. “It’s how people get caught. They get sloppy and besides you’ll be safe – I’m here all the time,” you assured him. “We haven’t had any incidents so far these past two weeks.”

“That’s true!” Robin said, perking up. “I’ve seen her decapitate an interdimensional superpowered human. Two regular humans should be easy for her.”

The memory of your machete going straight through Vecna’s neck flashed through your mind and you frowned.

“I’m not afraid for me – oh my God, you two are insufferable,” Eddie muttered, walking off towards the audio guy who was waving him down.

“Jeez, what’s up his butt?” You grumbled, looking through the mail and pointedly ignoring Robin’s knowing smile.

///

He hated to admit that Robin was right. Eddie would never actually say it out loud – she’d never let him forget it. But…the photos looked good. Eddie flipped the page and the image of you with your head thrown back making him smile.

“I feel like we should be laughing, isn’t everyone in those tabloids always laughing?”

Eddie snorted. “Did you need me to tell you a joke?”

“I can fake laugh, look,” you chortled, laugh sounding horrendously fake even to his ears. Eddie couldn’t help but actually laugh at your attempt.

“That was bad,” he said between laughter.

You grinned; Jesus did your smile make his heart sing. “Made you laugh though.”

The both of you had agreed to go for ice cream in downtown Dallas. You’d tossed your arms around him, practically touching him at every opportunity, and Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to try and lie about how it made him feel.

In fact, everything about your arrival had him feeling like he’d been turned upside down. It’d been painfully awkward at first, it still was sometimes, but you were both slowly learning how to be around each other again. And Eddie wasn’t sure if that was such a good thing in the long run. Or if he was just setting himself up to be hurt again.

The last photo, one where you were reaching out to wipe the corner of his mouth, made him smile. His eyes were on you and even he could see that you both looked like a couple very much in love.

“They look good,” Gareth said, leaning against the doorframe. Eddie slammed the magazine shut and straightened. “Well now, that wasn’t suspicious at all.”

“Shut up,” Eddie said, rubbing a hand down his face. “It was set up; you know it was.”

“Riiight.”

“Gareth.”

He laughed. “Dude, it’s me. I’ve known you since I was a freshman in high school. You can’t lie to me. I was there when you met her. She was in my class originally remember? She’s my friend too.”

You had been – that’s how he’d met you. Gareth had failed history junior year and his teacher had assigned him you at the beginning of senior year for tutoring. As cliché as it sounded, you had taken one look at him and he was gone. You were so nice to him, to all of his friends, and repeatedly defended anyone in Hellfire against bullies.

Dustin had mentioned you before – Mike usually rode home with you – but he just hadn’t really noticed you. He couldn’t fathom how because it’d taken one offer for you to come out to the Hide Out and your friendship had all but solidified.

There was rarely a day Eddie wasn’t attached to your hip. Sometimes, it’d felt like he was your shadow, following you around like a lost puppy.

He knew he loved you on Halloween. It was a wonder that it took him so long. You’d told him that you loved him on Valentine’s Day. He still had the card you’d handed to him, flustered and shy. His heart felt like it was going to beat out his chest that day.

There were things he didn’t understand - before everything exploded during spring break – like the times you’d sneak into his trailer, tears in your eyes and panic shaking your body. He’d assumed that you just had nightmares after the fire at Starcourt since you had been in there when it burned. You hadn’t like to talk about but, he quickly found out why.  

Eddie had tried his best to be comforting, to be a safe space, and for a moment – a brief moment, he’d thought that you were his future.

Then Vecna had stolen that from him too.

In hindsight, he should’ve known better. He’d cut the rope in the trailer that night because he knew you needed time to kill him. He’d done it for you. Because he couldn’t run away when he didn’t know if you were safe or not. Even if that had been what caused you to run after, he didn’t regret it. Not even in the winter when the scars and his joints hurt the most.

But…he missed you. He’d forgotten that. Forgotten how easy it was with you – how much he wanted to breathe you in and follow you around like that lost nineteen-year-old. There were things he knew about you, whether or not they were still true, that he didn’t know what to do with.

Eddie knew that you liked to have tea before bed. He knew that you liked your coffee with an ungodly amount of sugar. That you thought waffles were superior to pancakes. Your order at the diner was etched into his memory, alongside the way you were ticklish on the soft part of your thighs. The fact that you were a good daughter but an even better sister.

He knew the noises you made when he sucked on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck. He knew that you liked to take charge, never one to be bowled over. He knew just how to twist his fingers, where to touch, to get you to scream. He knew that you liked to pull his hair, that it drove you crazy when he tied it up in a bun.

But he also knew that the sounds of your sobs echoed, the ones that haunted his dreams, while he tried to claw his way through the darkness back to you. He knew what you looked like, begging him to forgive you for not being able to stay while he was still attached to monitors at the hospital. He knew that you’d loved him, once upon a time, and that it’d hurt more than he thought possible to have it taken away.

“I’m scared,” Eddie said, thoughts jumbling together, “what if I get used to her being back?”

Gareth nodded. “That could happen.”

“I don’t – I-” Eddie sighed.

“Listen, she ran after those earthquakes and you let her go. This was something that fell apart that you both let fall. You’re adults now – you’re both grown-ups, ugh,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the thought, “you gotta decide on what you want. Once you figure that out, you’ll know what to do. But…don’t jerk her around. She wasn’t doing good for a while and this is the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time. She’s settled now and she deserves to be at peace Eddie, so do you frankly.”

Before Eddie could even think of a response, let alone soak that in, Robin popped her head in the door.

“Hey! You have the magazine! What do you think?”

Eddie stood up and shrugged. “Looks good to me.”

“Right? I’m a genius! We should do a few more once we land in Chicago, to keep up pretenses,” she said, tapping her chin. “We’ve gotten a ton of fan mail for her. A few job opportunities too, apparently people like her style.”

Of course, they did. Because everyone loved you. How could they not?

“Munson? Gareth? We’re ready for you two. We need to do a final sound check.”

Gareth shot him a look and Eddie sighed again. “Let’s do it.”

As the four of them walk towards the stage, Eddie spotted a few of your team members securing the hallways. Smiling at the woman who never went anywhere without her earpiece or clipboard, Eddie wondered how you two had met.

As if summoned, Eddie caught sight of you as you spoke to one of the outsourced security teams. Julian? He faintly remembered you mentioning a second, much larger, security firm lending a hand. You were pointing at the doors to your left and the man nodded, attention solely on you. Eddie could relate. His eyes wandered down, your jeans tightly curving around your hips-

“Eddie!”

Eddie blinked, turning towards Jeff who was staring at him worriedly. “What?” He said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, what’d you say?”

“He asked if you were ready,” Gareth said from his spot behind the drums, fingers twirling a drumstick while his eyes were light with laughter.

Eddie glared at him before nodding at Jeff. “Sorry man, I’m ready. Want to start off from the last song?”

.

Pacing the length of the green room, Eddie tried his best to calm his nerves.

“You alright man?” Jeff asked, eyeing him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous before a concert.”

“Uh,” Eddie said smartly, not sure how to word that he wasn’t really nervous about performing – more like he was nervous about the fact that this was the first night since you’d joined that he’d be performing that song. It was stupid, he was sure you’d heard it before and he’d gotten away with excluding it for the last few concerts but, it was popular enough that it couldn’t be ignored forever.

Gareth snorted at his indecision. “She’s never heard him sing Got Away,” Gareth said. Eddie whipped his head around and Gareth rolled his eyes. “Dude, they were there while you two pretended not to be obsessed with each other. They’re here now while you two awkwardly try to pretend like you’re not staring at the other. We’re metalheads, not blind.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Anyone can see you both have it bad for each other.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie said.

“Sure,” Liam said, chuckling from his place on the couch, “and I’m Ozzy Osbourne.”

Eddie stood up, feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed. “For my own sanity, just for this performance, can we please drop it?”

Jeff, ever the mediator, nodded but Eddie watched Gareth quirk a brow and shake his head. “The more you ignore it, the worst it’s going to be later.”

“I’m sure she’s heard it anyway,” Liam said, “at this point she’s gotta know you wrote most of that album about her anyway. Most of downtown Hawkins knows.”

“Jesus, remember the songs that fall?” Gareth snorted. “He made that girl in the audience cry.”

Eddie hated how well his bandmates knew him sometimes.

The PA from earlier knocked on the door. “We’re ready for you guys!”

Jumping at the chance, Eddie hurried out the door. He shook his arms out, hooking his guitar around his chest and nodded. It was just another concert.

The sound of fans chanting made him smile. Grabbing the mic handed to him by the audio guy, he caught sight of you on the other end of the stage. You waved, giving him a thumbs up and Eddie hated the fact that it did something to his chest. He shot you a smile before bringing the mic up to his lips.

“Hello Dallas!”

The roar of the crowd drowned out all his thoughts. The curtains dropped, the audience screamed louder, and Eddie reveled in the energy.

“We’re going to start you off with a crowd favorite, is that alright?”

Glancing back at Gareth, he nodded once before raising his drumsticks into the air.

At the first chords, the crowd went wild. Focusing on the audience, Eddie managed to keep his eyes forward, and voice steady for most of the song.

We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world

In another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

As the bridge approached, Eddie couldn’t help but give into his urge, eyes swinging around to you. He wasn’t prepared for the way you were already looking at him, eyes wide and awed. Your hands were intertwined, pressed up against your chin. At the sight of his glance, you smiled a small little sad thing that had his own heart stuttering.

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

Can't replace you with a million rings, no

I should've told you what you meant to me, whoa

'Cause now I pay the price

Dragging his eyes back to the crowd, ignoring the pang in his chest, he let the last chorus fade and picked right back up with the next song.

///

You were mildly embarrassed at how quickly, and in such a short amount of time, you got used to being in Eddie’s presence again. You might even go so far as to say that in the rare moment you found yourself without him, you felt a little off.

It was mortifying really. You were a professional and all it took was one assignment to ruin your spotless record. Just barely four weeks into this detail and you were incredibly used to him being the first person you saw in the mornings and the last before bed.

In your incredibly weak defense, there was something intimate about being part of someone’s daily routine. It’s something you taught everyone who joined the firm. There’s bound to be a connection to the people you’re protecting. No matter how short the time, it’s only human to grow attached. It’s a major factor into why your clientele was so loyal. Most of your jobs were reoccurring or past clients. You’d created a bond with all of yours, and you’d hoped – desperately – that it wouldn’t happen here. Honestly, you should’ve known better.

“Is this necessary? We were just here,” Eddie said, yawning from the door.

You got down on your knees and lifted the bed skirt. Flashing your light, you confirmed that the room was clear. When you didn’t immediately hear Eddie’s footsteps, you turned to glance at him from over your shoulder. He shuffled in, eyes on the ground, cheeks pink.

“Fucking hell, is it only eight? Why am I so tired?” Eddie groaned, flopping onto his bed. You perched yourself at the furthest edge, massaging your bad knee and rolling your eyes.

“Because you’re nearly thirty and traveling across the country is exhausting?”

Eddie lifted his head and glared at you. “Don’t you ever mention my descent into death again.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly dramatic?”

“Once, a girl I knew from high school,” he joked when you shot him a look. “She was wrong, obviously. I’m a completely rational person. If anything, I underreact.”

“Wow,” you said, deadpan.

“What?”

“I’ve never met someone so delusional – oomph,” you grunted as a small pillow hit your shoulder.

Eddie groaned as he sat up. “I’m hungry,” he grumbled, reaching out to check the messages on the hotel phone.

“Me too,” you chimed, already thinking of places you could order from. Eddie seemed fond of the burgers from yesterday. They’d also been cleared by Michaels and Yang as a safe spot to order from for the duration of your stay.

“Robin says we’re all cleared for the night,” Eddie stood suddenly, letting the phone drop back down to the receiver. “I say we go out for dinner.”

“What?” You balked. “We have an early call time; I think our flight is at eight to Chicago.”

Eddie rounded the bed, placing his hands on his knees and bending down to your height. “Come on Mayfield, live a little.”

“It’s not safe – I’d need another person with me. Maybe Johnson is still awake? Maybe a man would look better? What if you’re recognized-” Eddie lifted a hand, his eyes going wide and pleading.

“Come on, boss, live a little. We’ll go somewhere nearby. I’ll wear a disguise! Look,” he said, pointing to the hotel’s massive windows. “The beach is right there! We haven’t, and won’t, get a chance to see it if we don’t go now.”

“We never get the chance to see anything in any city,” you said, brows raising. “It’s just a beach.”

“Mayfield.”

Feeling yourself give a little, you sighed. “What kind of disguise?”

Eddie grinned, one that you knew meant he knew that he was winning you over. “We’re in Miami, trust me – it’s easier to hide in a bigger city.” He hesitated for a moment before gathering his curls into a ponytail, wrapping it around the base, a high bun sat at the top of his head.

Something incredibly close to butterflies, but felt more like velociraptors, roared away in your stomach. Shit, you’d forgotten how good he looked with his hair up. Eddie glanced at you quickly before stuffing his hair under a baseball cap. Pushing a pair of sunglasses onto his face, he opened his arms and did a twirl.

“It’s night out, only weirdos wear sunglasses at night,” you said, laughing when he snorted.

“It’s Miami.”

You laughed. “Alright, fine, you win. I’m bringing back-up though,” you said, going to the safe and grabbing your handgun.

“Do you really need to bring that?” Eddie frowned.

“Eddie, I’m here for your protection,” you stressed, not liking it either. “There are literal deranged fanatics trying to kill you.”

He sighed but relented as you placed it in its holder and pulled a hoodie over it. “What if they just want an autograph? They could be completely rational people.”

“Someone sent me a package last week that we had to scan for explosives, Edward,” you said, opening the door.

Shrugging, he relented. “You know, sometimes you’re right.”

“Sometimes? More like all the times. Hey, no detours, okay?”

Eddie crossed his heart and held up four fingers. “Scout’s honor!”

“You were never a scout and they use their right hand to salute. It’s also three fingers not four,” you said, watching Eddie smirk as the elevator took you both down to the lobby.

Skin itching at the busy streets, you kept alert and vigilant. Eddie’s elbow bumped into yours and you frowned. “Come on, loosen up a little, we’re fine,” Eddie said, tugging his hat on lower.

“For now,” you muttered, sticking your hands into your pockets.

“You’re just a ray of sunshine,” Eddie said, leading you towards the pizzeria at the corner. “Has anyone told you that?”

Raising a brow, you watched him hold the door open for a couple and ushered you in. “You know what I do for a living, right?”

“One cheese pie to go please,” Eddie said, placing a few bills on the counter.

“To go?” You said. “Thought you wanted to live a little?”

Eddie smiled at your imitation of him. “We are, we’re gonna eat on the boardwalk.”

“Eddie,” you groaned. At least a restaurant had less variables you needed to watch over.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, thanking the cashier as he handed over the pizza box, “we’re going.”

The beach was visible from the pizzeria. You could smell the saltwater – hear the ocean crashing into the shore. “Eddie-”

“Oh, come on,” he said, grabbing your hand and tugging you forward. Your skin tingled and at the sight of a few people eyeing Eddie curiously, you intertwined your fingers together. He blinked down at your hands, shooting you a surprised look. Darting your eyes to the attention you were getting; Eddie nodded and pulled your joined hands closer as he pulled you under his arm.

This close to him, your sides bumping as you walked, you got hit face first with his scent. It hadn’t changed much since you’d last been this close to him. Woodsy, a bit minty, and something uniquely Eddie.

Smoke, you realized, he didn’t smell like cigarettes anymore. Now that you realized, you hadn’t seen him smoke at all.

“Did you quit smoking?” You asked.

Eddie smiled. “I was wondering when you’d ask,” he said, “yeah, a long time ago now. When we still lived in Hawkins.”

“Really,” you said, raising your brows. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he said, sitting down cross-legged on the wooden bench facing the water. Despite the crowded streets, it seemed that the beach was mostly empty. A couple to the far left were walking away from you, two little specks in the distance. “Since you asked a question, do I get to ask one back?”

You picked up your slice and nodded. “Twenty questions?” You asked around a mouthful.

Eddie nodded, swallowing his own bite. “Do you still talk to everyone from home?”

“I didn’t have many friends outside the party,” you said, surprised that that was his first question. “Not after Will disappeared. I – I don’t regularly keep up with most of our friends either. Robin, Steve and I have a weekly phone call where I mostly listen to them bicker-” Eddie laughed and nodded.

“That sounds like them.”

You shrugged. “Aside from El, Max, and Lucas – I don’t speak to anyone else that often. Hopper, obviously, but Will is off doing his own things. Being adults,” you said, shooting him a look, “Will’s stuff is beautiful. I managed to catch his last gallery and he sent me my favorite piece in the mail. It hangs in my living room and I love it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, looking out to the ocean. “He’s really good.”

“Dustin is busy being a literal genius and Mike, well, is-”

“-usually around me?” He finished for you.

Smiling sheepishly, you nodded. “Gareth is the only one I called semi-regularly. He sends me postcards from wherever you guys are, you know?”

“I didn’t, the little shit,” he said, frowning. “I guess it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one.”

“The only one what?”

“The only one left out,” he said with a self-deprecating smile that just about broke your heart. Before you the shards could surface, Eddie stood and dusted the crumbs off his shirt. “Want to take a walk?”

Lump in your throat growing, you nodded.

“It’s your turn,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets. With a quick glance around, you slipped your flats off and let your toes dig into the sand. Feeling a little more calibrated, you let your gaze fall to the push and pull of the ocean.

“When did you know things were changing for the better with the band?” You asked, betraying the tiny piece of you that craved answers and the small details of the time you’d missed.

Eddie smiled. “The first time someone recognized me on the street. We’d been doing a lot of opening acts for moderately known bands on tour. We generated enough interest that we started working on a debut album. I was writing a ton and our label decided to give us a very tentative shot. We were out for some food and this guy tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I was Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin.” Eddie mimed his head exploding and you grin.

“I would’ve paid to have seen your face,” you said, bumping your elbow with his, “you guys deserve it.”

“Thanks,” he said, ducking his head like he wasn’t an international rockstar at this point. “How did you get into security? Last I remember, you wanted to be a teacher but you studied psychology?”

You shrugged, memories bubbling to the surface. “I think Hopper just found me at the right time. I was so…angry all the time. I’d shifted from sad to just pissed off – even Max steered clear of me for a while. I needed an outlet, so my roommate pushed me to tag along to her self-defense class. It was Krav Maga and I learned how to take someone down that day. It felt exhilarating.”

Eddie snickered. “Only you’d get excited about violence sweetheart.”

“Shut up,” you said, flustered, “the point is, I’d started picking up a few things and the instructor asked if I’d ever considered Judo. I said no, I didn’t really have the time, but I went to a class once a week for a year. I think, I was just fed up with feeling helpless. I’d watched so many of our friends fight for their lives, I wanted to feel like…well, like I had some sort of control I guess.”

“That makes sense, given the circumstances,” Eddie said, looking pensive. “Wanting control in a situation where you felt like you had none.”

“Exactly!” You said, smacking his shoulder excitedly. Eddie shot you a grin and you stumbled. “Well, Hopper found me right as I was graduating. He’d just started his company and needed help. I went from a class a week to four a week and a boatload of training. I helped scout some people and it went off from there.”

Eddie smiled at you, the moonlight casting a shimmer to his skin. “Who would’ve thought, Mayfield, a professional ass-kicker,” you shoved him and he laughed, the sound shooting down your spine. “It suits you though, you look happy.”

“I am,” you said, shrugging, “at least with my career. I’ve been in some tight situations but the people I’ve saved or protected, they’re all great people. It’s thrilling really.”

“I can imagine.”

A question bounced around your mind, reminiscent of an old conversation with Steve, and you pushed yourself to ask. “Who was your first after…after I left?”

Eddie stumbled and you instinctively reached out to steady him. “Jeez, Mayfield, you really choose the hard hitters.”

Mortified, you straightened. “Sorry, you don’t have to-”

“No, no, it’s fine. We…we were friends for longer than we were anything else. Even after everything, after all the years, you can always ask me anything. Time and complicated feelings don’t change the fact that we were friends. We are friends.”

“Yeah?” You asked, both embarrassed at the earnest tone in your voice and pleased.

And for the first time since you’d seen each other, without any cameras present, Eddie pulled you into his arms. He hooked his chin over your shoulder and exhaled. “Yeah. We might be the weirdest, most complicated friends to exist, but what we went through was too strong to be destroyed by something as finnicky as time.”

Embarrassed by the sudden pressure behind your eyes, you squeezed Eddie tightly. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” You wondered if the words would ever be enough.

“I’m sorry too.” After a minute, you both stepped back and continued walking forward. “And to answer your question – her name was Emily. She was, predictably, your complete opposite. It took a while but she was good for me.”

“What happened?” You asked.

Eddie shrugged, a flicker of regret flashing through his expression. “A whole mix of things. Our schedule was starting to pick up and in the early days we had to go where the shows were. You know how that goes, so much time away – she couldn’t always come with, and I don’t know. We just fell apart. Can I tell you a secret though?”

“Always.”

“I was going to propose the week we broke up,” Eddie laughed and you stared at him incredulously. “No, really. It’s crazy how a week can change your entire life. Well, I learned that years ago but, it’s old news by now.”

“That sucks,” you sighed, surprised by the complete lack of jealousy you felt. It really did suck; you’d gone through enough break ups to know they always hurt.

“What about you?”

You bit back a smile. “What about me?”

Eddie groaned and waved a hand in the air. “Come on, don’t make me drag it out of you.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, glancing back out to the water, “I…didn’t really have one serious relationship. Robin says she thinks I run from commitment but it’s deeper than that. I have a whole chunk of myself that’s permanently changed because of what I’ve been through. How do you cultivate something without sharing that?”

“You should, you know, share it,” Eddie said.

“I know but, no one felt right,” you sighed. “Steve’s favorite is this financial guy I dated for three months. He actually proposed to me.”

Eddie sputtered; expression shocked. “After three months? Did he even know you?”

“Hey!”

“Mayfield, we met the first week of our senior year and it took us almost the entire year to confess that we liked each other,” Eddie said, laughing when you balked.

“Yeah, and I was the one who confessed first! You don’t get any credit for that!”

Hands out, placating, he agreed. “You’re right, you’re right – sorry, continue.”

Stopping at a nearby boulder, Eddie plopped down and you followed suit. “It’s your turn,” you said softly, not wanting to break the easy mood you both had created.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t ever ask you this,” Eddie said, mouth twisting, “but it’s been eating at me. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you?”

The familiar inky grip of guilt tightened in your chest and you struggled to breathe through it. “Because Wayne was in Hawkins. He had a really good job there and everyone else stayed behind. The kids still finished out school, Robin went to college nearby, you needed that. Look, it took me years of therapy to realize this but, you needed to heal through your support system. They were there, in Hawkins. I needed to heal by finally creating distance. If you would’ve asked me to stay, I would’ve,” the admission was torn from your mouth before you could stop it.

Eddie’s surprise eclipsed his face. At his silence, you swallowed around the lump in your throat.

“I would’ve ended up resenting you for it. My sister almost died. She still has a limp, you know? She tries to hide it but I know her bones ache and there are scars that time won’t ever heal. We all have ghosts but I couldn’t keep living in the same house as mine. I knew you deserved more than a broken girl who would’ve turned into a broken woman.”

“I think I knew that on some level, it was just always easier to be the wounded one,” Eddie admitted.

“I don’t blame you for however you needed to cope,” you said, reaching out for his hand, “we do what we need to, to survive. Eventually though, life needs to be more than just surviving and you’re doing that.”

Eddie’s fingers trailed across your palm, tickling your skin and you sighed. “You do have the makings of a good shrink you know.”

“I know,” you said, laughing when he shot you a look. “Tell me a secret.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Will you tell me a secret?”

He huffed a soft laugh and nodded. “I kept the card you gave me that Valentine’s Day,” he whispered, his words almost drowned out by the waves, “it’s in my apartment in New York but, it’s in a box next to my diploma and other important stuff. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out.” Pulling one of his hands from yours, he pulled one of his necklaces out from under his collar and your eyes zeroed in on the red guitar pick.

“I can’t believe you still have that,” you said, fingers reaching out to touch the warm plastic. Eddie’s inhale was sharp and you immediately brought your hand back.

“I wear it on the days I feel like I need an extra bit of courage,” he admitted.

You smiled, a little confused. “What?”

“Don’t you know?” Eddie asked, tilting his head back, eyes knowing. “You’re the bravest person I know, Mayfield.” The wind blew his bangs around his temples, the hair whipping from beneath the cap. “I wear it when I feel like I need to borrow some of that bravery.”

The intimacy of the admission made you shiver. Your skin brimming to the edge with the words, Eddie’s eyes betraying his accidental vulnerability.

Not one to be outdone, you tried to even the playing field. “I kept one of your Hellfire t-shirts. I wear it when I need comfort. It’s soft as shit and reminds me of happier times. My neighbor even knows I wear it when I feel like crap. It just…helps after one of those days where just about everything goes wrong, you know?”

“Yeah, boss, I know,” he said, gazes catching. Something you couldn’t decipher shifted in his eyes and you felt those damn velociraptors flutter awake. “We’re a mess,” he said, repeating your words from that second night.

“We’re definitely something,” you said, smiling when he snorted. You both watched the water for a few minutes, the line between ocean and sky blurred.

“We…we could’ve had something right? It wasn’t just me? I think about it sometimes, get lost in my own head about whether I’ve imagined our connection. If the depth of us was just one-sided or if we ever really had anything at all.”

Your chest hurt at the sound of his voice wavering, but you kept your eyes on the missing horizon as you answered. “Yeah. We could’ve. We’re an almost and those hurt more than tangible things sometimes. Because you know that if it had the right environment, it would’ve bloomed into the best flower out of the bunch. And you…you, Eddie Munson, are the best, most painful kind of almost.”

“That’s a new one,” Eddie said, eyes burning into you. “I went to see you once. At the California office.”

“What?” You said, shocked.

“You weren’t there. You were on some assignment in New York, ironically. Hopper said it was for some pianist?”

Ah, George Shearing.

“I saw Max though – she’d just started college and swore she could teach me to surf in weekend,” he laughed, stuck in the memory, “I told her not to tell you. I took it as a sign – we could only try so many times, you know?”

You hadn’t known that he’d tried to see you – that if you’d only just delayed that trip for a week you would have.

“Are those songs about me? I don’t want to be that girl who assumes but, I’d always wondered,” you admitted, not able to bring yourself to look at him.

In your peripheral, you watched Eddie smile with a relieved sort of expression. “All my good songs are about you, Mayfield. How could they not be? You’re seared into my memory, into who I am now.” He stood after that, dusting his pants off, and offered his hand. “If we’re an almost, then you’re my favorite almost.”

Taking the offered hand, you let him haul you back to your feet. “You’re my favorite almost, too.”

Eddie grinned, the unhindered, wild grin that you remembered. “It seems we’ve made a habit of having all our serious conversations by a beach,” he said.

Where the hell was he? You frowned, checking the time. Digging your toes further into the sand, you sighed and watched the lake ripple as a duck landed onto the surface. A flash of bright lights had you scrambling to your feet.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Eddie said, tripping out his van. “I – had a shift at the shop run late, someone brought their shitty mustang in and then I was trying to find any store that was open, but of course none were, I mean - whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

Confused at the speed of his words, you watched him walk over to you. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sorry. I got your, uh, gift,” Eddie said, words stumbling over each other. You heart leapt into your throat and your eyes immediately dropped to your feet.

“And?”

A soft finger at your chin tilted your face back up to his. His eyes were molten in the moonlight, wide and curious. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

Eddie smiled half-heartedly, recognizing your teasing. “Are you going to make me say it?”

Nodding, you bit the inside of your cheek and tried to drudge up every bit of your courage.

“Do you…do you really love me?” Eddie’s voice cracked and your stomach fluttered dangerously at it.

“Yeah, I think I have for a while now,” you admitted. “I know we haven’t been friends for as long as you and the guys have – honestly, I don’t know how we never noticed each other before senior year. I-I don’t know when it changed, only that it did.”

Eddie’s thumb traced your bottom lip and his gaze deepened. Squaring your shoulders, you inhaled. “I love you, Eddie.”

His answering smile crashed into you like waves onto the shore. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Elated, you brought your hands up to his wrists. “Really?” You breathed.

His eyes darted between yours, eyelashes kissing his cheeks. “Yes,” he whispered right before pressing your lips to his.

Shaking your head, clearing the memory from the front of your mind, you dusted sand off your clothes. “Come on, we both need to wash off this sand and we still have that early call time,” you said, nudging him forward.

“This sand?” He asked.

You turned to look at him at the same moment he kicked some up at your legs. You gaped. “Did you just-” you sputtered as he kicked up more sand towards you. Without waiting for your response, he cackled and darted up towards the boardwalk.

“Come back here you shithead!” You screamed, laughing as you chased him back up the beach.

///

“You, Robin, and Dustin could really rule the world, you know,” Eddie said from the sofa in his hotel room, where he was gazing at you lazily.

Rain pelted the thick glass to your left, the curtains pulled open so that you could both watch in fascination as the sudden tropical storm wreaked havoc against the river in downtown Chicago.

Smiling, you glanced around at his dark hotel room – the glow sticks and lanterns from your emergency kit casting a warm low light against the walls. You’d all barely returned from another rehearsal and security walkthrough when the lights had suddenly cut out. It’d taken you ten seconds to slam the adjoining door open and run towards Eddie, who had been face planted into his bed and half asleep.

Immediately calling Robin, you both figured out that the power was out to whole hotel. Julian’s team had reached out to assure you that the floors had been cleared, your and Dustin’s protocol followed down to the smallest instruction, and confirmed that it was a city-wide issue. The ETA for the power being back on was two hours. The hotel generator was only managing to keep common areas on, and the elevators, and anyone was welcome downstairs for some light and free food.

“Don’t you forget it,” you said, pointing to him, the phone still cradled between your shoulder and your ear.

The receptionist tinny voice echoed in your ear. “Ms. Mayfield? Yes, apologies for the wait. Your food delivery is in the lobby. Would you like us to receive it and bill the room?”

“No, thank you,” you answered, “I’ll be right down. Tell him I’ll just be a minute!”

“Of course.”

Grabbing your wallet, you pointed at the door. “Lock it behind me and do not open-”

“-the door for anyone that isn’t you, I know,” he said, propping his chin onto his hand. “I’m going to hop in for a quick shower anyway. Just take my key.”

Ignoring him, a thought suddenly came to mind. “I should probably call and check on the venue, see if there’s any damage,” you mused to yourself, reaching out for paper to write that down.

“Or,” Eddie called out, “you let the storm blow over, relax for a minute, and check on them in the morning.”

Grumbling at his laughter, you made your way downstairs.

The deliveryman gaped at you, soaked to the bone, as you handed him a generous tip. “Are you sure?” He sputtered, looking barely out of high school.

“Be safe, okay?” You said, turning to share a smile with the receptionist sitting close by. She placed the pack of cards on the table, next to monopoly, and you smiled. “Thank you!”

“No problem Ms. Mayfield. If you need anything else, please let us know.”

You waited a fair bit for the only working elevator, the attendant apologizing every few minutes. Waving away his apology, you offered him a spring roll from the massive takeout bag. Surprised, he shook his head, but smiled at your offer. Taking a bite out of your own, you smiled at a few kids running out and towards the sitting room behind you.

“Ow, hot, hot,” you grimaced as you accidentally shifted the bag in your arms too far. Dropping the rest of your spring roll into the bag, you wiped your hands on your pants and pulled out the key card.

Throwing the door open with your foot, you took another bite of your spring roll before placing the bag down on the low coffee table. “Food’s here!” You shouted, eyes catching on the video you’d both wanted to watch after dinner. Shit. “We’re going to have to return the movie and hope they’ve got a Family Video or something by the hotel. I really wanted to watch this one-” choking around your mouthful, you blinked as Eddie emerged from the bathroom.

The white towel hung low around his hips and you became intoxicated with the rivulets of water that sped down his chest from his hair. Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, it wasn’t the surprising clear definition of his muscles, or the hair – Jesus Christ on a stick the hair – that caught your attention. It was the scars that were littered across his chest.

The pale, jagged, lines most notable on his ribs and across his hip. And as if against your will, your eyes started to well up. You’d seen Eddie shirtless a few times before…before and seeing him after just reminded you of how close he’d been to death. You’d held the skin together on the one around his ribs, your jacket pressed against his wounds.

“Eddie, open your eyes – keep your eyes on me! Eddie! Sweetheart, please, please, don’t leave me too, you can’t! Nance, the blood – the blood-”

“Mayfield?” Eddie’s confused eyes swam into your blurred vision, crossing the room to stand by you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Wordlessly, you reached out a hand and trailed a finger across a small scar by his collarbone. Shivering, Eddie froze in place. “Oh,” he said, glancing down at himself as if he’d forgotten he was half-naked. “Yeah, you haven’t – you didn’t see them before. Aren’t they something?”

“You’re beautiful Eddie, with and without them,” you said adamantly, surprised by your own tone. It didn’t matter in the end, because you couldn’t live in a world where Eddie didn’t know that he deserved the world.

His warm, ringless, hand hesitated before cradling your cheek. “Why are you crying?” He asked, this thumb catching the tear that had managed to escape.

“I don’t know,” you said, tentatively placing your palm on his side. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a moment before settling back on you. “I was so mad at you. When I saw you lying in Dustin’s lap, I was so mad and so scared…”

“I’m okay,” he said, ducking to catch your gaze. “Hey, I’m okay. I’m like a cockroach. Some ol’ demon isn’t going to get me.”

You half-smiled at him and his ridiculous brow wiggle.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who kept this one together,” Eddie said, voicing your thoughts, pointing at where your hand rested. “I never said thanks for that, you know.”

Shaking your head, you found yourself ducking down. The only explanation you had was the fact that a ghost must have possessed you because, before you knew it, you had pressed your lips to the large scar.

As you straightened, Eddie’s grip on your arm tightened, his shoulders trembling. You darted your eyes up to his, about to apologize for your temporary insanity, when your mouth dried.

His eyes were heated, a look that shot directly to your chest and traveled down to your belly. Toes curling in your sneakers, you swallowed thickly. Your tongue darted out in a desperate attempt to wet your lips but as his eyes followed the motion, your mind went fuzzy.

Both of you swayed forward and you realized he was close enough that you could see the faint lines around his eyes. You gazed at him, categorizing the subtle differences ten years made and nearly smiled when you saw the two familiar small freckles at his neck.  

“These were always my favorite,” you whispered, a confession meant to be kept to yourself. Suddenly, a memory of you worrying them between your teeth flashed through your mind and you brought your eyes back up to his. You watched, fascinated, as his Adam’s apple bobbed once.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice an absolute wreck, as his hand fell to his side, “you’re killing me.”

Cupping his jaw, thumb caressing his cheek, you jumped when his hand came up to your wrist. He kept your hand there, his eyes darkening, and you felt your breathing turn shallow. Jesus, you wanted to rake your hands through the hair in his chest so badly you were practically salivating.

The silence of the room was suffocating, you wanted to crawl out your skin. His eyes branded you as they darted across your face, as if memorizing you, and you bit the inside of your lip.

Both of you swayed again, inching closer.

Then, suddenly enough to startle you, the lights in the room flickered on. The electricity in the building seemed to hum in unison for a moment, before settling.

What the fuck were you doing?

You blinked, realizing just how close you’d gotten, and you jumped back. Wrapping your arms around yourself like armor, you kept your eyes on the floor and shook your head. “I-I’m so sorry. I, uh, the food’s on the table. I’m not – I’m going to go back to my room.” Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and started for the adjoining door.

Quick footsteps and a hand wrapping itself around your wrist stopped you. Closing your eyes for a moment, you begged yourself to stay professional before turning to Eddie.

“The food,” he said, after a beat of silence, “you didn’t eat.”

Shit. “Right, uh, I’ll just grab my-”

“And the power is back on, so we can watch that movie you wanted,” he said, hand dropping from yours. You watched him rub his neck and you realized he was actually nervous. Eddie Munson was awkwardly nervous.

Stunned, you blinked at him.

“We both have a late start tomorrow, for the first time this entire tour,” he said taking a few steps back towards the bathroom. “Besides, you owe me.”

Indignation flashed through you. “What?” You sputtered, awkwardness falling away. “How the hell do I owe you? I’m the one who kept that crazy fan off you this morning.” You crossed your arms.

Eddie beamed, shaking off his own uncertainty, and shrugged. “You just do. Get the movie on, Mayfield. I’ll be…right back,” he said, grabbing a change of clothes and you absolutely did not watch his shoulder blades shift in fascination as he walked away.

Grabbing the food out the bag, you settled on the couch, crossing your legs. What the fuck was that? You asked yourself, barely resisting the urge to rub a hand down your face. For fuck’s sake, you kissed his chest. Had you actually lost your mind?

It didn’t look like he’d minded, your mind supplied unhelpfully.

Shut up, you told it.

But the damage was done, your mind was reeling, and you realized it hadn’t looked like he minded. In fact, it looked like he’d been leaning down-

“You better not have eaten all the spring rolls,” Eddie said, grabbing the remote and flipping the lights off. He flopped down onto the cushion next to yours and you quirked your brow. “What? No one watches movies with the lights on, Mayfield.”

Shooting him a look he ignored, you smiled when he placed another spring roll into your container. The opening credits started and you laughed as Eddie ran commentary, as always.

After quickly eating most the food, you both sunk into the cushions comfortably. Halfway through the film, you felt his hand come up to yours. He nudged you and you blinked up at him, confused. He nudged you again and you let him intertwine your fingers. Eddie’s answering smile warmed you.

Without overthinking, you let your head come down to Eddie’s shoulder.

The character on screen pressed a kiss to her daughter’s head as she ran out the door. You weren’t sure when you’d forgotten how easy it was to just…exist with Eddie. The way he radiated sunshine and how its rays warmed you from the inside out. You didn’t know how you’d existed without it for so long. It was easy to forget when you didn’t have it within your grasp, but now that you did – you didn’t think wanted to let it go.

///

“Hey!” Robin said as you opened the door to your hotel. She was dressed in an incredibly tailored suit and you let out a low whistle. She waved a hand, giving you a knowing grin. “I look good, right?”

“So humble too,” you teased, letting her in. “You’re early.”

She shrugged, draping herself across your unmade bed. “I got ready quicker than I needed to. Thought I’d come down and bother my favorite person in the hotel.”

“I’m telling Eddie you said that,” you joked.

Robin’s brows wiggled. “Talking about Eddie…”

You groaned, clasping the necklace you’d bought in Chicago around your neck. “Robin, please.”

“I can’t help but notice that you two have been getting along recently.”

“We’re friends.”

“Right, and friends always check out the other’s rack when they think no one is looking?” Robin asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

Hands stumbling, you dropped one of your converse onto the floor. “Jesus Christ Buckley, why don’t you just scream it?”

“Scream what?” A second voice asked. You jumped, shrieking when you saw Gareth leaning against the doorframe of the connecting door.

“Gareth!” You said, chucking a brush at him. “What have we said?”

He sighed. “It’s not smart to scare you because you could karate chop my head off my shoulders,” he said, pouting like a ten-year-old.

“Don’t worry Gareth, we were just talking about how close her and Eddie seemed to have gotten this past week,” Robin said, glint in her eyes. You closed your eyes, reminding yourself that you’d eventually miss Robin if you killed her.

“I have a bet going with the rest of the guys,” Gareth whispered loudly, “Jeff’s winning.”

“Excuse me?” You sputtered.

Gareth shrugged. “I thought the two of you were braver than you are.”

“I-I-” Words failed, really they did. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No? Considering earlier today at breakfast you came in from working out and Gareth had to practically reattach Eddie’s jaw back to his face after seeing you in a sports bra.”

“Plenty of people wear sports bras to work out!” You said defensively.

Snorting, Robin nodded. “I know, you’re just the only one he’s got eyes for.”

You felt yourself grow flustered, not able to really handle anymore. You’d known that things had shifted after that night. You’d spent the last four days going over it in your mind. You were both playing with fire and you wanted to be sure that – if anything shifted – you wanted this. You’d already left a town of people behind; you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t gotten any closer to an answer, to any type of resolution to all of this. But it seemed to help that Eddie sounded just as confused.

What didn’t help was that you could practically feel his eyes on you, like a physical touch, and you couldn’t exactly keep your own eyes to yourself. Something had changed, or changed back, and you didn’t know what to do with that.

Gareth and Mike had already separately brought it up and you were mortified. Robin, as always, took great pleasure in fucking with you.

Saving you, the hotel phone rang and you dove for it. “Hello?”

“Good evening, Ms. Mayfield,” the receptionist greeted. “I’m calling to inform you that your party has started to arrive.”

“Thank you, we’ll be right down,” you said, hanging up the phone. “Everyone’s starting to arrive.”

You’d landed in Indianapolis early morning and had spent all day prepping as usual. Robin, like the mastermind she was, had managed to reserve a private room in the popular restaurant downstairs. She’d all but blackmailed the party into flying out for the concert tomorrow.  

“Eddie,” you called out, “everyone’s downstairs!”

“Coming!” He answered, his head popping through the doorframe a minute later. His eyes found yours first, as always. “You look great.”

Opening your mouth – Robin beat you to it. “Thanks Munson,” she said, swinging an arm around his shoulders. You watched as a blush crawled up from his neck.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your bag and opened the door. “Come on, Dustin and Lucas will eat through the entire restaurant if we don’t hurry up.”

“I’m telling him you said that,” Gareth said.

Without much maneuvering, you had him a headlock the entire ride down. Robin and Eddie laughed as you walked out into the lobby with him still in your grasp.

“I’m going to pass out,” he complained, his hands reaching out to tickle your sides.

Jumping away, you growled. “That’s cheating!”

Dramatically gasping for air, he ran a hand through his hair and glared.

“Watch yourself, that’s my sister you’re scowling at,” a voice called out behind you both. Whipping your head around, you found the familiar red hair and freckled face. Not wasting a second, you ran towards her.

Slamming into each other, you wrapped your arms tightly around her small frame. The smell of her shampoo surrounded you and you felt yourself ease. “Hey Mad Max,” you whispered, leaning back to get a good look at her.

It’d only been four months since you’d seen her last, but you always felt like a piece of you slotted into place when you did.

“Hey boss,” she teased, laughing when you peppered her cheek with kisses. She squealed, the sound making you grin and you ruffled her hair. “Where’s- oomph.”

A blur of blue slammed into your side and you kept a hand on Max’s shoulder for balance. El’s wide smile beamed up at you and you grinned. “Ellie,” you said, laughing when your silly nickname caused her smile to widen. “I haven’t seen you since Christmas,” you said, wrapping your arms around her small waist and lifting her up off the ground. She laughed, the sound filling you with warmth. If anyone deserved complete unrestrained happiness, it was Eleven.

“I missed you,” she said, squeezing you once before letting you go.

“I missed you too.”

Another voice joined. “Why don’t I ever get greeted like that? It’s always move Sinclair, you’re blocking my sister,” Lucas mimicked.

Rolling your eyes, you smacked the back of his head before bringing him in for hug. “How’re the Lakers?”

“Good, got an earful from my coach about keeping to my diet,” he said, scrunching his nose.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite employee,” Hopper’s voice boomed in the lobby.

You whipped your head around and narrowed your eyes. “If it isn’t my severely unprofessional boss,” you said, cracking and letting him bring you into a hug.

He leaned away, eyes darting across your face. “You seem different.”

“Yeah, I’m probably going prematurely grey from the stress these idiots give me,” you said.

Hopper shook his head. “You look happy, like you’ve lost some of those weights off your legs.”

“Don’t start,” you said, holding a hand up. “You’ll all be the death of me before the night is over.”

Robin clapped her hands twice, Steve Harrington already at her side – as per usual. He shot you a wide grin when you caught his eye. “This is all wonderful and everything but we got reservations I had to trade a kidney for. So, move it or lose it nerds!”

You all sat down, doors separating you from the rest of the restaurant firmly closed, and you thanked Julian’s guys stationed at the front.

Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, you watched everyone you cared about bicker, catch up, and hug each other. Nancy sat to your left; her arm linked through yours as she told Will about her most recent news story.

The food had only just arrived when you realized there was a steak on a plate on Eddie’s right. “Hey, who’s that-”

“Sorry I’m late everyone, the traffic on the highway was a bitch.”

Spine straightening, you stood and watched Wayne walk through the doors. His eyes found yours and you almost broke in two at the way they softened for you. Turning to glance at Eddie, you watched him shoot you a small knowing smile.

For most of your last year in Hawkins, Wayne Munson had been the only responsible parental figure you, Eddie, or Max had. You’d lost the number of times he’d cook you two breakfast or given you a ride to work when Eddie wasn’t home. Affection hadn’t come easy to him but he’d never turned you away when you reached for a hug. His scruff would tickle as he pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before leaving for work most nights.

Wayne Munson was the man who’d displayed the Christmas card you’d given him when the one you’d tried to send to your dad was sent back with a bright red RETURN TO SENDER. The mug you’d gotten him was displayed right in the middle of that old trailer.

“Well, look at you, all grown up,” Wayne said, hands going to his hips. “You lost my number or something? Just because my kid probably done and messed things up didn’t mean you couldn’t have called me once or twice among the years. I’ve saved your postcards though, every single one.”

Tears building in your eyes, you flung yourself into his arms and it took everything in you not to immediately break out into tears. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I didn’t mean to stay away for so long.”

“That’s alright,” he said, thumping you twice on the back. “You’re here now and from what I hear, you been running a tight ship.”

Feeling merciful, the guys nodded, complaining instantly about your overboard security measures. Walking back down to your seat, you swiped a finger below your eyes and smiled when Wayne pressed a kiss to Max’s temple. “Hey Red.”

“Hi Wayne,” she said, beaming up at him. “Haven’t seen you since the summer. The new television holding up okay?”

“Course, you’re the one who helped me fix it,” he said, ruffling her hair. Wayne made his way down the table towards Eddie, settling down next to him.

Eddie’s eyes found yours again, concern swimming in them. You smiled, letting him know you were okay, just a little overwhelmed.

Halfway through dinner, you felt Hopper’s arm settle on the top of your chair behind you. “You can thank me with some scotch for the assignment,” he said, the glint in his eyes teasing.

“Right, and what am I thanking you for?”

Hopper rolled his eyes. “That, Mayfield, is the look of a man in love,” he said and you couldn’t help but glance towards Eddie, who was – in fact – looking at you. He smiled and you whipped your gaze back to Hopper. “You can’t be that blind,” he huffed. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll catch up eventually.”

“We did,” Joyce said, her soft voice coming from Hopper’s right. She smiled at you, her hand reaching for yours. “Don’t let him bully you.”

“Although,” Nancy said, joining the quiet conversation. “I really would’ve sworn that you two would’ve ended up together.”

“They would’ve, they still probably will,” Lucas, across from you said, voice a touch too loud for your liking. “You all see the way they stare at each other, right? It’s been two hours and I’m sick of it.”

“This is a job,” you insisted, “I’m suppose to make sure he’s – they’re all okay.”

“Not now,” Nancy insisted, “back then. When we were all still in high school.”

Your heart stopped and you felt your arms go numb. The two of you hadn’t told anyone – it’d only barely just happened when shit hit the fan. Then you turned and ran out of town before the leaves could settle.

“Shit, yeah,” Robin huffed, “do you remember the looks? God the yearning we had to put up with.”

Mike snorted. “It was, and still is, annoying. The campaigns always ended early when she sat in on them, like Eddie couldn’t wait to get rid of us.” Your pulse echoed in your ears and you darted a nervous look to the opposite end of the table. Eddie was in a deep conversation with the band, Dustin laughing at something Jeff had said.

“Remember Valentine’s Day? They got worse after that,” Lucas said. “Eddie practically ditched us every week.”

“And the nicknames?” Nancy added. “I thought it was sweet.”

Not able to handle more, you stood abruptly and you cleared your throat. “I’m going to go…to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you said, scurrying off before you could meet anyone’s eyes.

The hurried footsteps behind you let you know that you weren’t alone. Hands reaching for the sink, you tightened your grip on the edges. Looking up into the mirror, you saw Robin, Nancy, and Max’s worried faces.

“Was it too far? I’m sorry,” Nancy said immediately, her hands coming out to yours.

Robin, however, tilted her head. “No, that’s not it. What’s wrong?” Goddamn her.

Max answered for you. “They did date,” she said, coming up to your other side.

Your eyes shot up to her knowing ones and you balked. “What?” Robin sputtered, looking completely shocked. “I spent almost everyday with you. When the fuck did you two date?”

“How did you know?” You asked Max.

She shrugged, her hair falling to her back. “We lived across from his trailer, I could literally see you sneak out his window when Wayne would get home in the morning sometimes. Besides, it’s like they all said, anyone with eyes could see you two were gone for each other,” she said. “I know something changed in February. You two were different. I always felt guilty, after we moved, I felt like I…like I’d robbed you something.”

You’d moved to her side before you could even think. “You didn’t. Even if we had gotten together earlier, I wouldn’t have stayed in Hawkins. I couldn’t. I still can’t.”

Max smiled weakly, but you saw her nod before burrowing into your arms. “I’m sorry, we need to rewind a second,” Robin said, her voice a little too loud.

“I locked the door,” Nancy reassured you.

“What the fuck, why didn’t you tell me? Oh my God! I made you guys go on so many fucking dates just to fuck with you guys. Jesus Christ. I thought this was stupid yearning, a maybe we-kissed-once-while-drunk-or-high thing. Not that you guys actually dated!” Robin said, rubbing a hand down her face. “Holy shit.”

“They definitely did more than kiss,” Max said, laughing when you shot her a glare. “What? The trailer walls were thin and you were loud. Well, he was loud. Actually, you both were.”

“I’ll smother you,” you threatened, fighting the urge to run in mortification.

The three of them grinned, even Nancy, and you sighed. “This has been a bit much for me tonight. I – I need a moment.”

“Right,” Nancy said, ever the mediator. She gripped Robin’s arm and herded her out the door. “We’ll see you all tomorrow and the day after. I’ll tell everyone you have a stomachache and went upstairs.”

“Thank you,” you said, squeezing her hand.

“But- wait- I have more questions!”

“Which can wait for tomorrow,” Nancy whispered back. “Come on Buckley, we still have dessert to go through and I’ve got to grill you about Laura.”

“What! Who told!?” You managed to smile when Robin’s voice squeaked.

Splashing some water on your face, you hurried up to your room and almost jumped out your skin when a knock echoed a few minutes later.

Checking the peephole, you let your forehead drop against the door. Of course.

“Yes?” You said, opening it a few deep breaths later.

His concern evident, he took a few steps in and shut the door behind him. “Are you okay? Robin said you were throwing up?” His hands flew to your arms.

You reminded yourself to give her a good punch to the shoulder. “I’m fine,” you told him, opening your door to his room and giving it a sweep to have something to do.

“Wait, hold on a second,” he said, moving to follow after you and stopping once you sent him a glare.

Taking more than the necessary second to check through his hotel room, your thoughts bounced around wildly in your head.

What was he doing here? Did you really want to go down this rabbit hole again? Could the two of you even be friends again? How’d you feel if you saw him dating someone else? Did he want to even do this? What if you were getting ahead of yourself?

“I can hear you overthinking from out here,” he called out.

Shit.

You walked out, eyes landing on him in the doorframe immediately. The second you met his eyes, you felt something in the air shift.

“You’re not sick,” he said softly, almost like he didn’t want to disrupt anything.

Shaking your head, you wrung your hands together – suddenly nervous. You’d unarmed mercenaries before, other highly trained security personnel, shit – you’d decapitated a monster that had almost killed your sister. You’d stared down Russian soldiers in the face and spat at them.

But this, Eddie standing in the doorway, made you hesitate.

“Are we going to talk about it?” He asked, taking a step towards you.

You broke the eye contact, looking down at your fumbling hands. “About what?”

“You know what,” he said, taking another few steps into the room. He sighed when you didn’t look up at him. “Sweetheart, if you don’t – if I’ve read this wrong-”

Not able to let him think that he was alone in this, not again, you rushed to explain. “You haven’t. Read this wrong. At least I don’t think,” you threw your hands up, “I don’t know exactly what there is to read, Eddie. I’m…it’s been so long and what if we mess this up again?”

His entire expression transformed. “Mayfield.”

“What?” You huffed, crossing your arms.

Eddie smiled, brow rising, and you suddenly felt the urge to smack him. “Do you want to date me?”

“I’m scared,” you admitted. Eddie’s teasing expression softened into understanding.

“Me too. We can be scared together,” he said, outstretching his hand. You hesitated for a moment before intertwining your fingers together. “We can make up the rules as we go. It doesn’t need to be serious, or heavy, it can be whatever we want. We can relearn who we are now, see how these versions of us fit together.”

“I want that,” you said, the words some of the scariest you’ve said in a while.

Eddie beamed at you, his face practically splitting in two. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, because how could you not? Ever since you’d seen him lying there on the floor, your world had been spinning out of control. You had tried to steer it for a while but now you realized, it had just been spinning back to him. “I do.”

Both of you stood like idiots, smiling at the other, until Eddie’s eyes darted down to your lips.

The air crackled immediately in response; a soft current rippled through you. Unable to stop yourself, your own eyes dropped to his lips. You briefly wondered if he still made that noise when you bit down on his neck.

As if reading your mind, his hands trailed down to your hips, pulling you in. For a moment, a small moment, you let yourself be led – but clarity quickly slammed into you and you dodged his kiss.

Hurt, he turned around to look at you. “What – was that too fast?”

“No,” you said, breathing like you’d run a marathon. “I- we can’t.”

“Because?”

You shot him an incredulous look. “You’re a client! If we – if anything – it’d be unprofessional. I’m your employee. I’m literally being paid to be with you right now.”

“I mean technically you’re the label’s employee- ouch!” Eddie huffed, glaring at the pillow you’d tossed at him.

“No. There are no technicalities here. Not if it comes down to your safety,” you grumbled. “Shit, maybe I should reassign someone.”

Eddie straightened. “You can’t!”

“But-”

“The world already thinks you’re my girlfriend,” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at the word, “it wouldn’t make sense to reassign you. You can’t reassign this.”

You sighed when you realized he was right. Shit, were you compromised? Turning to argue, you watched something flash across his expression before he managed to school it back to neural. But this was you and him. You knew him too well. No one like to feel rejected, even if it was for a good reason.

Wanting to soothe any ache you’d inflicted, even if necessary or accidental, you walked up to him again. Placing a hand to his chest, you assured him. “If I wasn’t working, if I wasn’t on assignment. I would. I- you…you have a scar right here,” you said, tapping the edge of his collar.

“They’re everywhere, Mayfield,” he said with a ghost of a smile.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself have this one moment. Your index finger reached out to trace the scar. His skin prickled at the touch, hair standing on end. “It’s shaped like half a heart,” you said, tracing it over and over again. “I want to know what it tastes like. What it feels like under my tongue. I want to know if you still make the same noise when you’re desperate and needy. I want to know so badly it’s been driving me insane trying to deny that truth for the last two months.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened and you felt a small thrill trail down your spine at being able to have done so. “That’s not fair,” he said, voice hoarse.

“I wasn’t trying to be,” you said, not hiding behind your usual wall.

Eddie groaned at your look. “Fuck me,” he sighed, head thumping against the wall.

“I already told you,” you said, smiling cheekily, “I can’t.”

His eyes darkened further and your restraint was seconds from snapping. You waved a hand in the air and put more distance between the two of you. “Okay, okay, walk it off Munson.”

“Stop teasing me then,” he said, baring his teeth.

Alright, fair.

“There’s only a week left of this assignment. Seattle and then LA.”

Eddie nodded. “Then we’re free.”

“Yeah,” you said, both thrill and nervous, “then we’re free.”

///

“No!” A shout from the open doorway pulled you from your uneasy slumber. Sleep clung to your eyes, making everything a little fuzzy, but you let instinct take over. Grabbing the nearest weapon, you all but ran into Eddie’s room.

From a quick glance, you didn’t see anything out of place. Eddie laid on his side on the right, facing the door. You glanced into the bathroom and the open shower. When you glanced back at him, eyes and head clearer, you realized he was asleep. His face scrunched, expression a little anguished. You sat at the edge of the bed, hand coming up to his arm. “Eddie,” you said quietly, shaking him softly. “Eddie, it’s a dream. You’re dreaming.”

His eyes flew open, breath coming in scared pants, and he grabbed your arms tightly. “Are you – is everyone okay?” He stammered.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you assured him, “it was a nightmare. It was just a nightmare.”

Except you knew that things were never just a nightmare.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, voice rough. “Did I wake you? Was I screaming?”

You shook your head, waving away his apologies. Running a hand down his head, you took his hand with the other. “We all get them. Are they – do they happen often?”

“Not as much as before,” he admitted, “they always come back when I’m finally feeling okay. Then they strike. It’s like they hide in the shadows for the right time.”

You smoothed the hair away from his face and traced a nonsensical shape into his palm. “I get it,” you told him, because you really, really did. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

Eddie hesitated and you frowned.

“What is it?”

“Can you – can you stay?” He asked a little shyly. “I won’t try anything, I swear.”

“A perfect gentleman?” You teased, knowing already that you wouldn’t be able to say no to him. He crossed his heart and you nodded. “If your hands wander, I’m smacking you in the morning.”

“That’s fine,” he said, pulling the blankets up to your chin. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you said, yawning.

///

 You woke up slowly, burrowing your face into your pillow, you tried to fight off the day for a few more minutes.

Moving to shift onto your back after a few minutes, you found yourself unable to. You cracked open one eye and realized you weren’t in your bed. Head perking up, last night came back to you in a rush and you looked down to see an arm keeping you securely tucked. Eddie’s chest was practically molded into your back, his nose buried in your neck and breath tickling your skin.

Glancing at the time, you groaned. Shit, you needed to be up and downstairs in a few minutes. “Eddie,” you tapped his wrist softly, “I gotta get up.”

Groaning in response, Eddie pulled you tighter to him, his cheek coming to rest on your head. You, however, blinked at the new sudden pressure you felt against your hip. Trying your best to shift away, you ended up rubbing against him.

A sharp inhale hit your skin and you shut your eyes. Experimentally, you pressed back again, the curve of your hip hitting at the right angle. Eddie’s gritty voice hit your ear. “If you keep doing that, this will get interesting really quickly.”

Eddie’s grip on your waist loosened and you instinctively turned to face him. You both groaned this time, when it was now trapped between you. Eddie rocked forward, almost unconsciously, and you clenched your thighs.

“Eddie,” you said, eyes catching his. You watched, fascinated, as his pupils dilated. Unable to help yourself, you rocked your hips forward again. This time, Eddie panted, his breath hitting your cheeks and you realized your grip on his arm was painful.

“Mayfield,” he hissed, grip on your hip tightening.

Shaking your head, you rolled off the side of the bed and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Mayfield?” He called out, coming over to glance at you over the edge. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you said, trying to calm the embers in your – well, entire body. “We both need cold showers, breakfast, and to get going to the venue. Shit, I might need a drink at this rate.”

Eddie groaned, flopping back down onto the bed. “You and me both.”

You really couldn’t help but laugh.

///

Being back in California settled your nerves from the past week like a wave returning to the ocean. There was something about your home, the city you were born in, that calmed you.

Glancing around the packed club, the one the record label had rented out to celebrate the last concert of the national tour, you took note of all the exits again.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Robin said, dropping herself into the seat next to yours. Her elbow hit you in the side and you hissed. “Sorry, sorry, this place is fucking packed. The next person that accidentally bumps me is getting smacked.”

Suddenly, the booth you were in was surrounded. Everyone had returned with their drinks in hand, Eddie taking your other side and the guys sitting around the table. “Man, everyone from the tour is here! This is great!” Jeff said, excitedly sipping his pina colada. You smiled from behind your hand, his drink of choice hadn’t changed from high school and you couldn’t help  but find it endearing.

Robin straightened. “Wait, this is it,” she said, glancing at you and Eddie. “You’re leaving us after tonight.”

“Well, technically I get a week off and then I think I’ve got a politician’s daughter who needs me for the next month.”

“What?” Eddie said, turning to glance at you. “I thought you were taking a few weeks off. I’ll be in town until we leave for London.”

Oh. You thought he’d be going back to New York after your week off. Robin, clearly picking up on both your tones, stood up. “We need a round of shots. Hey! Can I get a round of shots?”

The entire group groaned and she shot you each a look. A waitress brought them over on a tray and she waved over the few of Julian’s team that had opted to come. The guys and girls smiled and picked up a few shots when Robin urged.

“I want to toast to the woman who swooped in and saved our ass these last two months. Mayfield,” she raised her shot glass, “you’re irreplaceable, the best of the best, and we’re sad to see you go but goddamn, do we love to watch you walk away.”

You sputtered, laugh loud enough to rival the bass coming from the speakers.

“To our new guys,” she said, turning to Julian’s crew, “we’re so glad you’re staying with us. Welcome to Hell. You’ll love it here.” With a salacious wink, she threw back two shots.

The entire group cheered, lifting their glasses and drinking to an end and new beginning.

“God damn,” you hissed, the tequila stinging on it’s way down. Burying your face into Eddie’s shoulder, his hand came up to the back of your head and you felt his laughter beneath your cheek.

“Want something to wash it down with?” He asked, offering up his beer. You scrunched your nose and pointed to the bar.

“Save my seat? I’m going to go get something else. I think I burned my tastebuds off, what the hell was that?” You hissed, kissing his cheek and walking off towards the bar.

The blonde at the end of the counter spotted you and shot you a warm smile. “Can I get you anything?”

Ordering a drink, you added an appetizer as an afterthought. “Actually, can I have two?” She nodded, placing the orders for you and asking what table you were sitting at. Waving away her offer, you pulled yourself onto a barstool. “I can wait, no worries!”

A Corroded Coffin song came on and you grinned as the entire room erupted into cheers. You bopped your head at your seat, singing softly along to the words. A hand came up to your back and you smiled. “I’m just waiting on the-” your voice trailed off when you realized it wasn’t Eddie. “Oh. Uh, hi?”

“Hello,” the guy said, eyes dropping to your chest. You scrunched your nose and pulled back. “Did we meet at that party in Beverly Hills?”

Shaking his hand off your body, you straightened. “No, we did not. Please don’t touch me.”

Instead of insulted, his eyes sparkled – as if rising to a challenge you hadn’t announced. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before – you’re gorgeous.”

“Right,” you said, turning to hop off the stool. You were not going to hurt the stranger because it would kill the mood, you reminded yourself, unclenching your fists. As you took another deep breath, your eyes flew open when a firm grip pulled you into his chest. Shrieking, you went stumbling into his arms. “What the fuck?”

“I like girls who have a little heat,” he said, fingers practically bruising your wrist. “I saw it the moment you sat down. Besides, who wears an outfit like that and doesn’t want to get noticed?”

Trying to keep your temper in check, an image of you flipping him over your shoulder and slamming him into the ground flashed through your mind. Anger somewhat mollified, you were about to rip your arm from his and maybe break his index finger in the process, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Stumbling into another chest, you glanced around to see Eddie’s fierce expression.

“I suggest you get your hands off my girlfriend before I break yours,” he said, tone leaving no room for arguments. Annoyance flashed across the guy’s expression before recognition dawned on him.

“Shit man, I didn’t know that was your girl, honest,” he said, taking a few steps back. His face paled as he stumbled away from the bar and towards the booths on the right. Not releasing his hold on you, Eddie stalked over to Johnson, who was two seconds from climbing onto table to dance.

“Who is that?” He asked her. Her glazed look disappeared at the sound of his tone.

“Plus one from a suit at the label. Want him out?” She said, all traces of inebriation vanishing at will. A bit of pride shot through you at that.

Eddie rubbed a hand down his face. “I know it’s your night off but he was feeling Mayfield up-”

Johnson’s brows flew up. “And his limbs aren’t broken?”

“I was trying not to make a scene,” you hissed, glaring at Eddie, and smiling at the few concerned looks you were getting.

Eddie’s eyes turned to you for the first time since the bar. Surprised at what you saw, you blinked. “Some things are worth making a scene for,” he turned to Johnson who smiled knowingly.

“I can take care of it,” she assured you both, “with pleasure.”

You turned to Eddie and he spoke before you could. “People are looking, darling, smile.”

“Do not tell me to smile,” you snarked. “I had that handled.”

Not dignifying you with a response, he pulled you into one of the semi-private booths. You growled at him. “Don’t manhandle me like that, I had it covered. It’s literally my job.”

Eddie ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry, I know you could’ve handled it but-” he hesitated, brows furrowing, “sometimes other people can take care of you, you know?”

You leaned back. “What?”

“Just because you can do it, doesn’t mean someone else can’t help. I know you could probably kick my ass-”

“-not probably, I definitely can-”

“-but I’ve still got your back. Even if you don’t need it.”

He was jealous, you realized, finally recognizing the emotion brewing in his eyes.

Oh.

“I…okay,” you said, taking his fingers and intertwining them with yours across the table.

Eddie frowned. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

Suspicious, he leaned forward. “I just – I didn’t like how he had his hands on you. I wanted to punch his stupid face.”

It was very in character that the sentiment made your heart skip a beat.

“Who goes around just grabbing people like that? The way he pulled you- and his stupid suit-” he exhaled harshly. “I’m sorry if I pulled you too hard. I know we haven’t defined anything between us yet-”

“Hey,” you interrupted his nervous rambling. “I can get jealous too you know.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, remembering that stupidly pretty bartender at the Hide Out. The way she’d place her hand on his arm, tracing his tattoos. Blinking away the memory, you raised your eyes up to Eddie’s and felt that first crackle of electricity. “I’ve got to share you with everyone you know,” you teased, “you’re Eddie Munson, famous rockstar now.”

Instead of laughing, Eddie’s eyes shifted and you felt the tension deepen. The current snapped louder, practically visible. “Yeah, but you wanted me when I was that kid planning campaigns and standing on lunch tables. Nothing, not even sold-out stadiums and big fancy international tours can change that. You were the first.”

“Eddie,” you breathed, fingers digging into his skin, and you suddenly got the urge to kiss him.

He smiled, a soft, excited little thing. “I don’t know if you’ve realized but,” he licked his lip and you followed the motion. “I regret to inform you that your employment for Corroded Coffin has come to an end.”

“Technically it’s to the end of the night,” you joked, laughing when he shot you a half-hearted glare, “but, yes, I do know.”

“So, what do you say we get out of here?” He said, wiggling his brows like the dork he really was. Your heart sung, wanting to reach out and bury itself beneath his skin.

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I’m pretty sure this party isn’t even halfway through.”

Eddie groaned, head lolling to the side. “You’re killing me Mayfield, you’re actually killing me.”

“I’m not,” you huffed, “I’d be a little ruthless if I mentioned that I’m wearing something a bit lacy underneath this all.”

Popping his head up to glare at you, you watched with unrestrained laughter as his eyes lowered – dazed. “That’s not fair,” he grumbled. “Fuck the party, let’s just go. I’ve been waiting years for this.”

“It’s only been two months,” you reminded him, “and we can’t – you have a speech to make with the guys. Robin will kill you if you miss it.”

Eddie’s desperate gaze softened into something tangible. Something real you could almost grasp in your hands. It reached out and stole your breath, leaving you gasping. “No, sweetheart, I’ve been waiting on you for years. I just didn’t realize until last month,” he stood, resting his weight on his forearms to lean into your space, “and I’ve never been one not to go for what I want. And right now, that’s you.”

With a dip of his head, he licked a strip up your neck and nipped at your jaw before hovering just far away enough from your lips. Your heart dropped into your stomach and the velociraptors in your stomach awoke with a vengeance.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you heard yourself say, sounding incredibly breathless.

With one last heated look, he slid out the booth and sauntered through the gauzy curtains. You blinked, watching him walk back towards your friends. That little punk. You groaned, heat swirling through your belly, and you clenched your thighs together.

An hour, tops, and you were dragging that man – rockstar or not – back to your room.

Straightening your shoulders, you stood and made your way over to bar for your drink. The bartender let you know she sent the forgotten appetizers to your table and you nodded, dazed. Making your way to Robin, sipping on your cocktail, you sat next to her.

She grinned at you.

“What?” You groaned around the straw.

“That looked like a heated conversation.”

You shrugged, crossing your legs. “It might’ve been.”

“It had to have been considering the speech the guys are making is suppose to be in an hour.”

Humming, you looked at her a little confused. To be fair, you were still drowning in a cloud of Eddie’s cologne and the memory of his gaze. She pointed to the makeshift stage at the edge of the dance floor where the DJ stood. Gareth was thanking everyone on the tour for their help.

“He came over to let me know they were gonna bump up the speech and ‘do not fucking knock on our door until tomorrow afternoon even if the hotel is burning down’ or else he was plucking eyes out.”

Eddie’s voice came through the mic next and you immediately started choking on your drink, you coughed and thumped your chest, trying to dislodge the ice cube you’d just accidentally inhaled.

“I know,” Robin said, amusedly watching you choke to death. “From now until the afternoon? That’s ambitious. Just try not to break the bed, this is an expensive hotel.”

Glaring at her as you cleared your throat, she cackled. “I better be your best man.”

“Robin!” You gasped, needing a reprieve.

“What?” She huffed. “As if you two would ever end up with anyone else? Please. But seriously, Max gets maid of honor but I’m the best man. Best maid? Whatever. I’ll get to rub it in Steve’s face for years.”

The sarcastic quip on your tongue died as a hand circled your wrist and hauled you to your feet. Glass hitting the table, you stood and whirled to see Eddie’s wild eyes. “Come on.”

“Did you basically announce that we’re together to the whole group?” You hissed, following his lead – you were indignant, not stupid – and turned to glare at Robin as she wolf whistled. “Jeff isn’t even done speaking!”

Eddie, ignoring your words, kept weaving through the crowd. You reached the elevators and you opened your mouth but Eddie shot you a look. “For once, in your life, don’t argue with me,” he said, nipping at your ear and successfully shutting you up.

You were used to being the one that took the lead, Eddie had always encouraged you to do so. So when the elevator shut behind him and his lips crashed into yours for the first time in almost ten years, your legs immediately turned into jelly. Your arms went to his neck, securing him to you as his teeth bit down into your bottom lip. Groaning into his mouth, you ran your fingers through his hair and tugged sharply.

Eddie’s moan echoed in the elevator, reverberating in your bones. His eyes flashed and you shivered, thrilled at the sight. His hand came to your neck and your shoulders hit the back panel. Panting, you stared up at him defiantly and you watched him smile at your – do doubt – swollen lips. His thumb caressed the underside of your jaw and you tried to keep yourself from letting him know how much you enjoyed it.

The glint in his eyes let you know you’d failed but you didn’t mind, especially not when the elevators opened and he all but ran you to the end of the corridor. Not able to keep your hands to yourself, you pushed him against the door and finally, fucking finally, lapped at the scar on his collarbone. His head thumped at the door and you let your hand trail down to palm him through his black jeans. Eddie buckled, pupils blown wide, hands scrambling for the upper hand but you kept him pressed against the door.

Mouth traveling up to the meaty part of his neck, you worried the sensitive skin there and pressed harder. Eddie’s choked whine hit your ear and he panted. “Sweetheart, this is going to be over really soon if you don’t stop teasing me.”

“Oh yeah?” You said, eyeing the red skin at his neck with satisfaction. Eddie’s chest rose quickly, a dazed smile on his face. “Fuck,” you huffed, pushing your disheveled hair from your face.

“What?” He asked, fingers pulling the key card from his pocket.  

“You’re sort of beautiful, Munson,” you said, not stepping through the door as he opened it. Surprised at your comment, he glanced back at you and you smiled. “It’s almost unfair.”

Heat doubling in his expression, Eddie pulled you through the doorway and caged you in on the wall. “You can’t say shit like that to me when you look like that,” he groaned, his lips coming down to your neck this time. You gasped when his hand slipped underneath your top, deft fingers pulling down your bra and palming your chest. “Fuck, I want you so bad.” You whimpered when he brought a knee up between your legs and hissed at the sudden pressure.

Jesus Christ, you needed to take his clothes off, now. You both needed to be in bed, on the floor, against this fucking wall – whatever. But it needed to be soon. Your edges were frayed after this past week of building tension.

Nails digging into his back, you rocked your hips desperately seeking any type of friction. “Eddie,” you mumbled, mind completely gone and eyes opening. You took a moment to adjust the candlelight and then blinked. Candlelight? Wait, what?

The haze in your mind cleared for a moment and your sixth sense popped it’s head up.

“Wait, hold on,” you said, nudging him back – his scent was intoxicating and you needed a breath of clean air. As your brain rebooted, you took a few steps towards the massive sitting room and immediately the hairs on your arm stood on end.

Something was wrong. Really wrong. Fuck. You hadn’t swept the room before you stepped in. “Get out – Eddie, run-”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, confused, and the idiot took a step towards you instead. Acting on pure instinct, you whirled around and didn’t have enough time to bring your hands up. A punch to your face and the subsequent crunch let you know that your nose was broken. Blood instantly gushed down to your mouth. You heard Eddie scream your name, panicked.

Dazed and sprawled on the floor, you watched Eddie launch himself at the man and they went tumbling into the wall. The woman, who had been laid out on the bed, stalked up to you. Her platform heels clacked against the floors and it took you a moment to stop seeing double. Heaving for air, you felt her sharp heel come up to your face. Your head snapped back, sight going hazy again.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t come for you, stupid bitch?” She hissed. “He’s too good for you. I don’t know what he saw in you but we’re finally here. You can’t keep us apart anymore.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, blood dribbling down your chin.

“We suspected you were security, you know,” she said, twirling the knife in her hand, “considering the previous guards were easy to bribe to let us into the hotels and venues. Your guys though, I have to give them credit, clocked us in a second. But we’re devoted. He’s ours.”

You glanced back at where the woman’s companion had Eddie in a headlock, clearly trying to keep from hurting him. Eddie’s eyes caught yours and you tried to will him into collaborating.

“He’s the love of our lives,” she said, looking back at Eddie and blowing him a kiss. “We were all married in our past life.”

With a well-practiced move, you swung you leg out and collided with her. She screamed, tumbling to the ground and you pounced. Your foot came down to her hand with the knife and you leaned your entire weight onto it.

The crunching sound beneath your own heels, and her panicked pained screams, let you know you’d returned the favor and broken her wrist. “Fuck you,” you spat, rearing your hand back and bringing it down onto her temple twice before she went limp.

A fist came down to your hair and dragged you up. The man’s tight grip drew your arm back furiously. With a deep breath, you opened your mouth and unleashed a guttural scream. Throwing your head back, you heard the man shout. He released his grip on you and you turned to face him. He threw his arm out towards you but you side stepped him, using his own momentum, you leaned backwards and hooked your foot around his. In a move your Sensei would be proud of, you twisted and landed hard atop of him. Unfortunately, the man managed to fold your arm in the process and you knew by the exploding pain that if something was dislocated – you’d be lucky.

Already looking for something to grab, you barely managed to sideswipe the lamp Eddie brought down onto the man’s jaw. Going limp, you panted, and swung off of him.

Eddie’s panicked eyes darted over to you. Cradling your bad arm, you pointed to your room. “Go get my duffel bag. The blue one. I have zip ties in there, tie these two to the radiator on the wall.”

“But – Mayfield, the blood – did she – fuck-” he stammered and you looked down to realize he was right. It looked like someone had been stabbed and for a brief moment of panic, you reached out towards Eddie with your right hand. “It’s not me – I’m fucking fine – it’s you!”

You brought your hand up to your face and winced when you felt the cut on your cheekbone and temple. “That bitch caught me when she kicked me,” you said, “head wounds bleed a lot. I’m fine. Eddie, focus – go get the zip ties.”

His breathing was a little shallow, and his skin too pale, but he nodded. Running into your room, you used his absence to heave yourself up. Groaning as the room spun, you limped over towards the phone.

Before you could get there, you watched the door slam open. Martin and Johnson stood in the doorframe, eyes widening as they took you in. “Boss, shit, are you alright?” Johnson said, at your side in an instant.

“Where’s Munson?” Martin asked, already ducking into your room, where Eddie was holding the zip ties in his hands.

“I found them!” He shouted, letting Martin take them from him. At the sight of other people, Eddie darted back over to you.

“Sweep the building, make sure everything is secure,” you told Johnson, the broken nose and hit to your temple starting to make you dizzy.

Martin tied their arms behind their backs and marched over to the phone. “I’ll call you an ambulance boss,” he said, a speck of blood on his cheek and the knife in his hand.

Johnson wrapped your good arm around her neck and guided you out to your room. “How did you know?” You asked, inhaling sharply when you jostled your arm.

“Neighbors called in a complaint about screaming downstairs. Robin sent us up as a joke but we heard your scream from the elevator banks,” she said, face twisting. “I don’t know how they got passed security.”

“I do,” Martin said, holding up a large duffel and some maintenance uniforms. “Medics and police are on their way boss.”

“I want to charge them with everything fucking possible,” Eddie snarled, his hand on your leg. “Jesus Christ, look at the blood.”

Johnson nodded. “Head wounds bleed a lot; it doesn’t look too bad. What’s another few more stitches?” She joked, clinical eyes taking in your nose. “Looks clean but definitely broken.”

“You don’t say,” you snipped, watching through heavy eyes as Johnson smiled.

“She’ll be alright,” she said and you knew it was more for Eddie’s benefit than your own. “She’s got enough in her to still be a sarcastic punk.”

You huffed weakly. “I’m still your boss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Johnson straightened, “hey now, stay awake.”

“Mayfield?” Eddie said, his hand coming out to shake you. Johnson’s fingers smacked your cheek a little but it was futile. Exhaustion and adrenaline swept through you, knocking you down and encompassing you in the dark.

///

You awoke in the ambulance a few minutes later. It seemed that not eating, drinking shitty tequila, and taking a few hits to the head wasn’t a good mix. The EMT had greeted you with a wide smile.

Robin, however, had looked like she was ready to vibrate into a different dimension when she was finally allowed into your room. She stepped in, her suit wrinkled and her expression tight. You were still a little loopy from the pain meds but a nurse had helped you raise the bed so you were at least sitting for the debrief you knew you’d have to give.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she hissed, her fingers coming out to your good wrist.

“It looks worse than it is,” you said, knowing that your face must be bruised to shit. The swelling had already started to set in and you knew that the nose was going to look bad for at least two weeks.

“The nurse said you’d broken something but I thought it was your fucking arm – not everything else!” She said, hand hovering in the air like she was scared to touch you.

You bridged the gap for her and curled your fingers around hers. “Rob, I’m okay. I’ve had worse.”

That didn’t seem to be the right thing to say because she paled. Taking the opportunity, you squeezed her hand and tried to blink back your tears. “I’m sorry,” you said, voice thin, “I am so sorry. I was distracted and didn’t check before we went in. Eddie could’ve been hurt and I-” This time your voice did crack and you tried to swallow around it. The guilt had been eating you alive for the entire time you’d sat in this bed.

How could you have not gone in and cleared the room? You’d been doing it for two months, every day, and you’d forgotten. Everyone made mistakes but mistakes in your field got people killed.

“Sorry?” Robin sputtered incredulously. “Mayfield, you saved his life. You saved both your lives! You’re a fucking hero.”

You shook your head, wincing when it brought a sharp throb of pain.

“Is that why the nurse said I was the only visitor cleared? Eddie’s been driving himself crazy in the waiting room – he’s a wreck out there,” she said, squeezing your hand tightly. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“This is my job!” You exclaimed.

Robin’s eyes softened. “The assignment was up yesterday, boss. Besides, they’ve been arrested and slapped with so many charges I’ll be surprised if they’re not in there for a good chunk of years.”

“But I shouldn’t have let my guard down. We were distracted- I let him distract me-”

She smiled sadly at you. “Don’t do this, I know what you’re doing – how you’re working yourself up. Don’t do this to him.”

“Robin, I- I can’t,” you said pathetically, feeling like you were going to throw up.

“Listen to me. You two have always been inevitable. That’s – part of the reason I was insistent on hiring you. I knew that you both were each other’s person. Admittedly, I thought you were both just being stubborn, I didn’t know you’d actually dated. You both just needed the right circumstances and two good nudges. Obviously, you were someone I trusted but…you had to have known. Everyone who looked at you two knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That it was never pretend. It took three nurses to keep him in the waiting room, Mayfield. He’s – he was losing his mind when they wouldn’t let him ride in the ambulance. Shit, when I saw all the blood, I had a panic attack. It looked like – like when Eddie-” her breath went shallow and she winced at the rattle in her chest. “Fucking PTSD.”

“Fucking PTSD,” you agreed, empathizing completely.

“This wasn’t your fault, is what I’m trying to say. The fact that you two finally came to your senses and got lost in the moment was what we all wanted! For years. Please, don’t hide away from him again.”

The guilt piled on you in epic proportions but you were anything if not stubborn.

You’d almost gotten Eddie killed – except this time it was your fault. You were the one who’d forgotten to double check. You were the one who was suppose to know better. You weren’t dumb kids in over their heads.

Robin sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and patting your hand. “I’ll let them know you’re staying over for observations and you can’t have any visitors until the morning, okay?”

“Thank you,” you said, ashamed and relieved all at once.

That night, with your kind nurse checking you once an hour for any signs of a concussion, you watched the stars through your window.

You’d tried and lost, again. You knew that you shouldn’t have taken this job – panic threatened to overwhelm you. It felt like you’d been dropping into the ocean in the middle of a storm. Waves crashed into you, pulling you under.

Like a coward, you’d already asked Max to come get you upon your discharge. You’d heard the hesitation in her voice but she agreed to pick you up from the back. You needed to make it a clean break. Eddie would go off to do better things because he deserved better than you and the baggage you came with.

Chest aching and tears burning, you realize that you had almost made it this time. You’d had what you wanted within reach, fingertips grazing it, until it was snatched away from you again.

You’d learned something though. The second time around hurt more than the first. But at this point, running was second nature.

///

In hindsight, you should’ve known that your patchwork, flimsy at best, plan wouldn’t work. Hiding out for a week in Lucas’ spare bedroom helped you keep up the illusion that you weren’t being the biggest coward in all of existence. Max, like the best little sister in the world, hadn’t brought up the topic and let you mope around as you got used to maneuvering around with a cast on your arm – again.

The phone rang and you instinctively flinched. You heard Max answer and sighed when she called out your name from the kitchen.

“It’s Hopper,” she said, coming to the doorframe. “I promise.”

Grumbling, you picked the phone up from the receiver. “Do you ever pick up the phone?” Hopper asked. “Jesus. I had to hear from Robin that you’re not dead in a hospital somewhere?”

“Sorry,” you grunted, feeling like a kid getting scolded by their parents.

“Listen, I need a favor,” he said.

You groaned. “Hopper, I broke my arm,” you whined.

“And then disappeared off the face of the planet for a week. Joyce was ready to call Murray.”

Sighing, you frowned. “I’m on leave for at least a month – I can work with the cast but my nose needs to heal.”

“Calm down tiger, I just need you to go into the office and meet with some of the suits from the label. They want to hear what happened from your end. It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

“Can’t I do it over the phone?”

“Would I be calling you if you could?”

And that’s how you found yourself on your way to headquarters on a Saturday morning.

Jessica, the office admin, greeted you with a warm smile when you arrived. “That looks painful,” she said, whistling.

“You should see the other guy,” you joked weakly.

Her brows rose. “They’re still alive?” She smiled when you laughed. “Come on, they’re already here.”

“Shit,” you glanced at your watch. “I thought I was early.”

“Don’t worry, they haven’t been here long,” she reassured you. She grabbed your bag and opened the door to the largest conference room.

You took a step into the room and froze. Eddie stood, arms crossed, leaning against the large wooden table. Glancing back at the door, Jessica smiled knowingly. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

The silence was painful and you sighed. “Eddie-”

“Please don’t be mad at me, I’m so sorry for doing this. You deserve the best and that isn’t me,” he said, eyeing your cast with a guarded expression.

“What?” You said, headache blooming at your temples. You were going to kill Hopper. No, you were going to quit and then kill him.

Eddie nodded to the folded letter next to him on the table. The one you’d asked a nurse to give to him before you’d slipped out the back. He was quoting what you’d written.

“You had some audacity, you know?”

Sighing, you settled into the nearest chair and waved a hand in the air. “What did you want me to do?”

“To fight, for fuck’s sake, fight for us!” He exclaimed. “I know you love me; I know you do. You don’t have to say it, I know you better than you know yourself.”

“It’s in my blood! What do you want me to do? From the first time I fought with the kids, to that last battle. I run, it’s what I do. I don’t – I don’t know how to stop,” you said, voice anguished.

“That’s fine, but let me run with you. I don’t want to catch you, I don’t want to change you into something you’re not – but let me be by your side,” Eddie said, throwing his hand out. “Did you really think you could hand me a letter and think I’d just let it go?”

You didn’t answer because, yeah, that’s what you had thought.

“I let you go once because I thought it was what you wanted – I’m not making the same mistake again,” he said, reverent. “I realized now that you’re scared but, I’m scared too.”

“I almost got you killed,” you said, like a broken record. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry – for everything.”

Eddie sighed. “Mayfield.”

Something snapped within you. “No, Eddie, no – I can’t do this. I can’t – I don’t know why. Maybe that’s all we’re destined to be. An almost. A beautiful, wonderful almost.”

“We were never an almost,” he said, coming up to you, “this is just our story. And this isn’t the end of it - you weren’t the one that got away, you’re the one period. We might’ve worked before but we might’ve not. But those kids in Hawkins? They weren’t an almost. We weren’t almost something. We were something. But this us? Right now? We’re right where we need to be. We were meant for this. This is our story.”

Weak excuses falling at your feet, you gazed up at Eddie’s eyes and stripped yourself bare. “I do love you, I do,” you admitted painfully, “I didn’t think that we’d fit together the same way we did before but we did and I didn’t know what to do with it. Then, the beach happened, the storm – I’m scared. I’m broken, that time in Hawkins broke me and I don’t know how to stay. I don’t know how to plant roots.”

“I do though and I can do it for the both of us until you learn,” Eddie said, eyes looking at your cast sadly. “Do you want this?”

Tears welled in your eyes and you considered lying again. But you couldn’t – not a third time. Against every blaring alarm in you, you nodded. “Yes. I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted before. But – I’m different Eddie, I’m…”

“If you say broken,” he scowled, “you’re not fucking broken.”

“I’m different. I’m haunted. It’s been ten years and it still won’t go away. It gets easier but it’s always there. The assignments I’ve gone on – the shit I’ve seen. I- I can’t cope sometimes. The shadows always come when the sun goes away,” you admitted, saying the words for the first time in years.

“Share them with me. I can help you chase the shadows away. That’s what we do, right? Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”*

At your shock, Eddie smiled softly, kneeling so that he was looking up at you.

“When are you going to learn?” He mused, eyes dancing between yours. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. I don’t deserve better because you’re the best of us, Mayfield. You’re the best person I’ve ever met and I refuse to let you think otherwise. Because I know you’re brave. I’ve seen it. I can see it now. Let yourself be loved.”

Heart cracking open, you felt tears roll down your cheeks. Your good hand came up to his cheek and you leaned your forehead against his. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your shoulders and batted at the shadows. How stupid of you to think you could outrun him, the same man who stared a tornado of demobats and stood to fight.

“Okay,” you said, “I’d kiss you but I’m scared you’ll bump my nose.”

Eddie’s answering grin was blinding.

///

“I could take a look at the security plans if you want,” you said lightly, inching towards the files on the table and leaning forward.

Yang shut the file closed and shot you a look. “You’re here as a guest of the band’s, Mayfield. Not as security.” She smiled when you pouted.

“Oh come on, you know I’m good,” you whined.

She shook her head. “What you are, is a control freak,” she teased. “Your boyfriend was looking for you a few minutes ago. I’m assuming he went to the stage next.”

You scowled and stuck out your tongue before taking off towards the main stage. Fighting back your smile, you wrapped your arms around yourself. Hearing other people refer to Eddie as your boyfriend, an official boyfriend, always made the velociraptors in your stomach yawn awake. Even after six months.

“There you are!” A pair of arms wrapped around your waist and you jumped.

Turning in the arms, you smiled up at Eddie. “Here I am,” you said, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips. “Where’d you go?”

“Robin needed me. I’m good for the next hour, I wanted to see if you were hungry.”

You quirked your brow. “You have a concert in three hours and they’re letting you leave?” You asked.

“I’ve got you with me,” he said, grinning, “they always trust me more when you’re around.”

Laughing, you tucked yourself under his arm and curled an arm around his waist. “Gee, I wonder why,” you said. Eddie’s finger trailed down your nose and you scrunched it at him.

“Let’s go wander Barcelona,” you said, eyes tracing his movements when he tucked his hair into a baseball cap.

Eddie smiled knowingly when he caught you blatantly checking him out. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, ducking for another kiss.

“You two are disgusting,” Mike called out, carrying the backup guitars towards the stage. “Get a room!”

“I’ll remember that the next time you see El!” You shouted back, laughing when he stuck his tongue out.

“I haven’t seen you in a month,” Eddie huffed, “I’m allowed to be dramatic about it.”

You pulled him towards the side exit. “You’ve never needed permission, Munson, don’t start now.”

Finding a small park a few blocks away, you bought yourself some gelato and sat cross legged on a bench. “Want some?” You asked, offering up a spoonful. Eddie rarely ate this close to a performance but your stomach flipped as you watched his tongue dart out to catch some of the creamy goodness. His tongue managed to swipe your thumb and he smirked.

“Tastes delicious,” he said, leaning closer.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you teased, tilting your head back further so he could nip at your neck. The current flickered for a moment, lying dormant when he leaned away.

The look in his eyes was fond when you couldn’t help but kiss his jaw. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing, I’m just happy to have you here,” he said, resting an arm on your knee. “Are we going to talk about it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Between the two of us, you’re the one that’s having a harder time accepting this.”

“She’s a kid!”

“Max is an adult, Edward, and may I remind you that you and I were doing a lot worse things when we were younger than her?”

Eddie huffed, squeezing your shoulder. “I just keep picturing them as my little lost sheep, you know?”

“How do you think I feel?” You said. “I can still picture her all tiny and chubby limbs. But he makes her happy, you know? They’ve made it this long anyway – if anything, he took his time.”

“I still can’t believe he asked me for my blessing,” he said and you remembered how Eddie had teared up the day Lucas had asked you for permission to propose to Max. You’d cried, then laughed about how you were going to tell her he’d asked for permission like she was cattle. He’d gotten flustered the more you teased and you honestly wished you would’ve recorded it.

“I bet she cries,” you said, tearing up at the thought. Your little sister was getting married.

Eddie kicked a leg out. “Nah, she’ll probably tackle him to the floor while he cries.”

“Also likely,” you admitted. “Hey, you think we’ll ever get married?”

Choking, Eddie turned to you, shock all over his face. He sputtered a few times, mouth gaping.

“What? You planning on breaking up with me?” You asked, curled your tongue around the plastic spoon.

At that, he reanimated. “No, of course not,” he said. “I just – I didn’t think you’d want…to do that.”

That was fair. Considering your history.

“Would you want that?” You asked, curious. You didn’t have a preference really; your parents had been married and then your mother had married Neil. That was enough to remind you that marriage wasn’t the end all.

“A few years ago, I would’ve said no,” Eddie confessed, “but, I gotta admit, I want everything with you, sweetheart.”

Biting back a grin, you nodded. “Then, let’s do it.”

“Did you just propose to me?” Eddie asked, laughing and ducking when you swatted at him.

“No, doofus,” you rolled your eyes, “I meant let’s do it eventually. I want a ring and to actually be asked.”

“That’s weirdly traditional for you,” he teased.

You shrugged. “I want everything with you too,” you said, delighting in the way his eyes went soft and gooey, “besides, I want you down on one knee.”

Eddie wiggled his brows. “You have me down on my knees a lot sweetheart, doesn’t take much.”

Ignoring him, you jabbed him with a finger. “Don’t you dare ask either of my parents for permission.”

“Noted.”

“Maybe I’ll propose to you, we both know Wayne would say yes.” You thought about it and wondered what kind of ring he’d like.

Eddie rolled his eyes, all suffering. “We get it, you’re the favorite.”

“Don’t forget it,” you said, bumping your arm into him. “You’re my favorite, if that’s any consolation.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at you. “It is.”

Checking your watch, you stood. “Come on, we’re cutting it close. Yang’ll want to run through a few perimeters checks and she said I could help.”

Grabbing your hand, Eddie let you lead. “Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?” He asked.

“Hey, I’m all yours after this,” you said, “last concert of the tour and we get a month to ourselves in Europe.”

Eddie grinned, kissing your temple. “There’s this bakery in Florence that I know you’re going to love. I want to take you so many places. Oh, there’s a bookstore Gareth found in Lisbon!”

You watched his face come alive as he recounted his tour of the Eiffel Tour. Yeah, you thought to yourself, you might not believe much in marriage, but you believed in Eddie.

///

“Muchas gracias Barcelona!” Eddie said, waving to the crowd as they screamed themselves hoarse. You felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. They’d done it – they’d finished the first part of their world tour.

The label had given the green light for another six months in the next year but this one had been a success in ways no one could’ve predicted.

Gareth darted past you first, falling into the arms of his new girlfriend. You, ready for it, found your arms filled with a practically buzzing Eddie. He hugged you tightly. “We did it!”

“You did it, I’m so proud of you,” you said, shouting a little to be heard over the fans.

You walked deeper into the side stage and took Eddie’s hand in yours. “Sorry, I’m all sweaty,” he said, bouncing on his toes. The boys were always energetic post-concert, you knew it was the adrenaline of performing. Eddie had once told you he’d hoped that the novelty would never fade.

“It’s never bothered me before,” you said, doing a perfect impersonation of his eyebrow wiggle. Eddie, however, stilled. His hair was frizzy, wild, and his smile was just a little unhinged.

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you said, you loved all versions of him. “I’ll love you forever.”

His smiled turned into something soft. You beamed back at him, knowing that he reveled in it every time you said it. And it was so easy to give him what he wanted, because Eddie was, by far one of the easiest people to love. He was the man you’d love for the rest of your life. It was hard sometimes but, you made it work.

Eddie’s fingers came up to your chin and tilted your face up to his. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you echoed, peppering his face with kisses. He laughed, delighted, and then – like a switch had flipped – they turned. His eyes were ravenous and hands everywhere.

His lips trailed open mouth kisses down your throat, his hands going lower and lower-

“Jesus Christ, I’m fucking blind,” Dustin cried, hands coming up to slap against his eyes. “This is a public area! Can you two get a goddamn room?”

Eddie’s insistent hand pulled you off towards an empty one down the hall. “Good idea Henderson.” Powered to ten, the electricity between you two popped, tying you together.

Dustin gagged but you’re too enamored to care much. “We’ll catch up!” You shouted over your shoulder.

“Not likely,” Eddie said, pushing you into the room and locking the door behind you. “Now, where were we?”

As he pounced, your back hit the velvet sofa, you laughed. His teeth nipped at your neck and you wrapped your arms around him. Just before your mind went fuzzy, you had one last rational thought.

Maybe you did owe Hopper a bottle of scotch.

    A/N: just reposting this one now that my stuff is reflecting in the tags correctly -- because I wasn’t showing up for a hot minute there! :( 

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”*  Sade Andria Zabala wrote this but it fit and I had to include it!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #don't mind me just reposting now that I'm showing up in the tags

[pizzaqueen]

Pre-slash fluff with sleepy!Steve and bed sharing

T / 784 words

A warm weight settles on Eddie’s shoulder around the halfway mark of Black Christmas. His breath catches and he looks down to see Steve snoozing on him. It’s the first time it’s ever happened—oh, Eddie will lean all over Steve and has definitely fallen asleep on him more than once—and Eddie’s brain kind of short circuits. What’s he meant to do?

For the briefest moment, he turns his head, nose brushing Steve’s hair, breathing in the lingering scent of hairspray and shampoo, then turns back to the television. Lets Steve sleep. Relishes the warm weight of him and resists the urge to put an arm around him.

When the movie ends, Steve is still sound asleep and, honestly, Eddie would just stay like this all night because it’s nice and Steve had looked so tired when he got here, but he has to piss. Badly.

So, he eases Steve off his shoulder—Steve grumbles but doesn’t wake—and goes to the bathroom. Steve’s sitting up, rubbing his eyes when Eddie gets back. There’s something almost vulnerable in the action that tugs deep inside Eddie.

“Did I miss the movie?” Steve says around a yawn.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Lots of stabbings.”

“Nice Christmas movie.” Steve huffs. “Then again, I’ve been in a stabbing mood lately.”

“Damn, should I hide my knives, or—”

Steve smiles sleepily. “Just at work. You’re safe.”

“Phew. Already lived one horror movie, so…”

“Yeah.”

Steve rubs his eye with the heel of his hand again and then he stands on wobbly legs. “I’d better get going.”

“Whoa, hey, I’m not letting you drive home when you’re barely upright.”

“Not letting me, huh?”

“Damn right.”

“And you’re planning on stopping me how?”

Eddie pushes Steve until he’s sitting again and then he sits on his lap, arms crossed. “Like this.”

“Eddie.” Steve lets out a sigh. “Come on, get off me.”

“Nope.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Steve digs his fingers into Eddie’s sides and Eddie squirms away.

“That’s cheating,” Eddie says, but he doesn’t let Steve get up. He just turns around and straddles him instead. He settles one hand on Steve’s shoulder and points his finger at him. “No tickling.”

“You asked for it.” Steve crosses his arms. “So, are we staying like this all night?”

“Sure.”

“Well, that will be comfortable,” Steve says, but he closes his eyes and lets his head rest against the back of the couch.

Feeling the flicker of victory, Eddie lets his guard down, so when Steve cracks his eye open, Eddie thinks nothing of it. And then the next moment, Steve’s grabbed Eddie’s thighs and stands up, lifting Eddie with him. Eddie’s only in Steve’s arms for a moment or two before Steve has to set him down, but it’s enough for Eddie to feel warm all over.

“Oh, well…” Eddie clears his throat. “You’re strong, huh?” He reaches out and squeezes Steve’s bicep.

Steve raises a brow. “You going to let me go now?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. And then, “Wait, no,” and he goes in to lift Steve in a fireman’s carry.

He barely gets Steve’s feet off the ground, Steve saying, “You’re gonna hurt one of us,” before he sets him down again, breathless from Steve’s wriggling and struggling.

“I’m doing this for your own good.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stay,” Steve says. “Jesus.”

Eddie grins but it fades. “Look, man, I just… Don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel, wrapping your car around a tree.”

Steve looks at Eddie a moment, then says, “I’d be fine,” and then, “But I’ll stay.”

“If you really want to go home, sleep in your own bed, I’ll drive you.”

“Nah, I’d rather stay. Just didn’t want to get in your way.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean…” Eddie wonders if this has anything to do with Steve falling asleep on him, or if there’s something else going on. Suddenly, he’s tired, too, and just wants to go to bed and wake up with Steve there, even if he’s not sure it means the same thing to Steve as it does to him. “Whatever, let’s go to bed.”

Steve presses his lips together. “Okay,” he says, voice a little strange.

They stare at each other a moment, but it’s too late for whatever’s going on, so Eddie turns away and Steve follows and they get ready for bed. Steve’s out as soon as his head hits the pillow and Eddie’s not far behind.

The last thing he’s aware of is Steve turning toward him, arm going around Eddie’s waist, and Eddie falls asleep with Steve’s head tucked under his chin, their bodies pressed close and legs entwined.

Whatever it means can wait until morning.

#steddie #Steddie fic #Steve x eddie #i keep writing these little things instead of my Christmas fic oops #pizzaqueenfic #also this is kind of similar to something else I wrote 😅

[missedstations]

"In Assisi" - Kim Addonizio

This souvenir shop is full of skinny wooden crucified Christs like there weren’t enough of those in the churches already

I guess everyone has to believe in something Crystals, colonics, when you die you get virgins or your very own planet where you can spin for eternity in your celestial underpants

Some people believe Jesus spoke to St. Francis, but I have a feeling Jesus is just going to hang there silently looking holy & tormented for another two thousand years or so

I don’t think I’m going to get a Catholic miracle, like a statue blinks at me & I suddenly understand Italian Greek Latin Aramaic & Ugaritic

or peel off my tattoos & send the carved lions of my higher self to tear apart the lambs of my addictions

I’ll probably just go on kneeling before minibars in hotel rooms in my silk robe of flowers, praising the macadamias

One story about St. Francis is that two years before he died he got stigmata Probably malaria or leprosy, but imagine those sores

He dressed in a mended sack & old worn sandals If you saw him in Berkeley you might cross the street then come back with some change & try not to touch his hand

At the end of his life he was going blind, living in a reed hut overrun by mice Mice slithering over his feet, mice climbing the table to sit on his plate I guess they figured out that the job of a saint is to suffer as horribly as possible

St. Agnes raped & stabbed in the throat Joan of Arc burned & cast into the Seine

Oliver Plunkett: imprisoned hanged drawn & quartered beheaded beatified canonized

Brother Sun, Sister-in-law Death, forgive me I don’t see the point of all this pain, or believing it gets better when you’re boxed & delivered to the parade of microbes that will devour your corpse

I know my soul is small, it just wants a decent hotel room & the man who lies down to sleep so trustingly beside me to open his eyes & love me

#Poems #In Assisi #Kim Addonizio

[winterdawnzephyr]

late night talking // radio silence; aled x daniel

Summary: A stressed-out Daniel calls Aled in the middle of the night (day?) for emotional support. As late night talking goes, their conversation meanders. Set after the events of Radio Silence.

Word count: 1778

Link to AO3 post

It was 3:54 AM and Daniel was not okay.

Tipping back his head, he drained the third can of cold brew he'd had that night -- or was it morning? -- and slammed it down on the last remaining spot amidst his pile of chemistry notes. A stray droplet landed on the past paper he was working on, staining the godforsaken diagram of the Born-Haber cycle brown.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned. Elbows resting on his pages of calculations (most bearing red slashes from his cold-brew induced fits of rage), he dug his eyes into the heels of his palms and resisted the urge to cry.

He had been stuck on Hess' Law questions for the past hour. They weren't even difficult. He just kept making stupid mistakes -- not changing positive signs to negative, forgetting to half the enthalpy of atomization of Cl2, missing the state symbols. Cambridge didn't accept people who made stupid mistakes. What if he didn't get an A* in Chemistry because of this? What if, after working his ass off the last 10 years of his life, after doing all those readings and passing his interview, they rejected him because a stupid mistake bumped him down a grade?

He imagined giving up his plan to get a PhD in Biology and pursue research to work in his father's electronics shop, fixing gadgets and mending computers or whatever his father does. Fuck, that sounded pretentious. He always felt a stab of guilt whenever that thought crossed his mind -- which was not uncommon. There was nothing wrong with working in an electronics shop, except for the fact he felt a small part of himself die inside at the thought of giving up his lifelong passion. No more lab coats and goggles. No more ... how did Frances put it? Right, "skeletons and bacteria and stuff".

There was no way he was letting Hess' Law ruin his chances of getting into Cambridge. He couldn't let it. This dream was all he had.

Well, not exactly.

Daniel did the only thing he could think of in that moment. He picked up his phone and dialled his lifeline.

┈┈┈┈․° * °․┈┈┈┈

"Hey," Daniel said hoarsely. It just registered to him that it was 3:54 AM and he had probably just woken Aled for no reason. "Jesus, Aled. sorry. It's so late --"

"Dan, are you okay?" Aled's voice, soft and concerned, crackled through the speakerphone.

Somehow, just hearing their voice was enough to make tears well up in his eyes. He thought if he kept them in any longer, his eyes might burst. So he let them spill.

"Chemistry. Chemistry is ruining my life." All the numbers and formulae and diagrams laid out before him grew fuzzy. He could feel a drop of tear fall and join the brown stain on his past paper. Wonderful.

Aled stayed quiet, giving him time to collect himself. He could imagine Aled with their eyes wide like a puppy’s, their eyebrows raised just a touch – they always were when Aled was worried.

Daniel took a big gulp of air. His breath smelled disgustingly like one too many cans of cold brew. Well, I guess one good thing about Aled being so far away is he can't tease me about my coffee breath.

"It's just- my exam's in a week and I- I can't mess this up. I need to get an A* in Chem. I can't still be struggling with Hess' fucking Law this close to the exams. And I keep making stupid mistakes like mixing up plus and minus" He wiped an eye and let out a laugh. "This is so stupid. I feel stupid. Sorry, I shouldn't be calling you this late for this."

"It's okay, I was up anyways." They paused. "You're not stupid. But you're also more than your grades."

"I know," he whispered. "But everyone already knows I got an offer from Cambridge and I'm scared I'll fail and- and let everyone down and- “

"You won't let me down."

I love you so much.

"I..." Daniel faltered. Why couldn't he speak?

But he knew Aled, of all people, understood. They knew how it felt for thoughts to be coiled up in the dusty corners of your mind for so long that you’re afraid giving them a voice would break them.

At least, for now.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

"If I didn't know you better," Aled said gently, "I would tell you to sleep."

"I had three cans of cold brew."

"Dan!"

"Shut up, I get it-"

"Coffee Breath," Aled teased.

Daniel shook his head and smiled to himself. Well, guess I was wrong.

“How could you? Don’t you dare insult cold brew in front of me again.” They both chuckled. “Anyways, there is no way I'm sleeping now. The caffeine is blocking my adenosine receptors and my brain is setting off fireworks."

"You’re such a nerd."

"And you’re a hypocrite. Why are you up at this ungodly hour?"

Aled was silent for a moment. “Do you remember the YouTube Live! thing that contacted me?”

“Yeah?”

“Well…” he said, sounding half excited, half nervous, “I may or may not be doing a live show for Universe City in August?”

Daniel sat up straight, almost knocking over his three cans of cold brew.

“For real?”

“For real.”

“Aled, that’s great. When did you find out?”

“Just two days ago!” Aled said quickly. “I was going to tell you, but you’re busy enough with exams and have much more important things to worry about and-”

“Hey, stop right there,” Daniel chided them softly. “If I get to call you past 4am and have you deal with my anxious ass, you can tell me about your literally life-changing show no matter how much Chemistry is screwing with my life."

"Maybe," Aled replied sheepishly. “If you say so.” Are they… embarrassed?

Daniel felt a small pang at the thought that Aled might have been nervous about sharing the news with him. Of course, Aled had always been reserved, but there used to be no secrets between them. Then he remembered the arguments they had because he stupidly refused to believe Aled actually liked him, and felt another spike of shame.

Stupid of me to think they would be comfortable sharing everything with me, he thought ruefully, then stopped himself.

Something he’d been learning lately was that none of this was any one person’s fault. They could both feel endlessly guilty for being arses in their own ways – Aled for literally going radio silent on him, himself for being unimaginably obtuse – but what would be the point? They were past that. They’d agreed to be more open with each other, but these things took time. And Daniel would wait, however long it takes.

Shit happens - that’s life. He was just glad Aled was back in his life so they could brave this mess together.

“I’m proud of you. For restarting Universe City. For doing the live show.”

And Daniel meant it. God knows he loved every single facet of Aled Last, but he especially loved the version that was completely themselves, who was passionate and creative and wonderfully weird.

He wished the rest of the world to witness that version of Aled as well.

“Thanks,” Aled said shyly.

They cleared their throat. “Well anyways, since it’s a live show, I want to do something special. So I’ve been expanding our song. I want it to fit the new storyline I have planned before the show. Do you… do you want to hear it?”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”

Aled turned on their video call, and Daniel followed suit.

Aled looked much better than they had four months ago. Their cheeks had gained back some of its baby-like roundness. Whereas their hair was limp and dull before, it was now soft blond blending into pastel pink at the tips, which were just past their shoulders now. Since Frances had told him about the haircut incident with Aled’s mother, he had stopped teasing them about cutting their hair. Draped over their shoulders was their city-skyline blanket, under which they wore a T-shirt with two dinosaurs kissing.

In short, Aled looked really cute, and Daniel kind of wanted to kiss them.

Since he couldn’t, he said instead, “Is it just me, or are those dinosaurs on your shirt being really gay?”

“You mean, like us?”

They both chuckled.

It took Alex a while to fumble with something on their computer. Then they mumbled “Here goes,” and the backing track the two of them recorded so long ago started playing — Aled on the drums, himself on the bass — and then Aled started singing and he was mesmerised:

There’s nothing left for us any more

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left.

But old sport, take my hand

And we’ll rise from the ashes

Past the dark blue and the Fire

We’ll make something for us

Just for us

Then the music faded, and Aled’s voice, only moments ago so bright amidst the thundering instrumentals, had turned shy once again, snapping Daniel out of his trance. “So…do you like it?”

We’ll make something just for us.

Daniel felt a lump form in his throat. Does coffee mess with a person’s emotions? Surely, it should. He’d have to check his biology notes later.

“Are you kidding me? The new lyrics are fantastic. It’s amazing. I- I love it.”

Aled tucked a strand of hair behind their ear and blushed. One corner of their lip was turned up in a bashful smile.

Gods, he really wanted to kiss them.

“I-”

A smatter of knocks could be heard from Aled’s side. They stood up immediately, throwing their phone on the bed so Daniel could only see Aled’s ceiling. There was more clattering and-

“Al I love you but I swear to god if you don’t stop causing a racket I will- What are you even doing this late??” It was Carys.

“Whoops…” Daniel said.

Carys’ face took up the screen. “Ohhhh you’re being gay,” she cackled. “Hi Daniel! In that case guys have fun but I have an early shift tomorrow so keep it down, won’t you? Okay bye good night-and-morning.”

And just like that, she was gone, replaced by Aled’s shocked expression, puppy-eyes wide.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, then Daniel burst out laughing, and Aled started laughing even louder.

“I said keep it down!” The faint sound of Carys' half-irritated shout drifted from somewhere outside Aled’s room.

“Tell her I’m sorry?” Daniel said.

“Shut up.” Aled said, smirking.

┈┈┈┈․° * °․┈┈┈┈

It was 4:28 AM and Daniel felt, for the first time in a long while, that they were okay.

Notes:

That moment when you exhaust the meager supply of Daniel x Aled content that exists so you have to write your own...

Seriously, I want to read more about them!! So if anyone has written or will write more about their relationship, please share it with me.

Not sure why I chose to write a whole fic surrounding a phone conversation because 1. I hate phone conversations, and 2. I struggle with writing dialogue. I hope you still enjoyed the fic even though my inexperience in the two aforementioned areas may have made the dialogue unnatural :D

P.S. Was the first section just me venting about Hess' Law vicariously through Daniel? Yes. It absolutely was.

#radio silence #radio silence fic #aled and daniel #aled last #daniel jun #universe city #alice oseman #osemanverse

[vilixpran]

my shadow and bone s2 running thoughts

"there's only one bed!" speedrun

sometimes hot people can't act

this is actually.... not good

wow being incognito lasted three minutes

no hesitation to blow your cover

what a kind northern Irish village gentleman

the bitch is back, long live the bitch

show me a 40 year old! not every person alive is 25 and hot

genya's wig... ain't it

all he is is dumb and hot

let the fake Scandinavians mispronounce jail, show me realism

ah yes, we do cool nods at the wall of weapons

the ears are the sign of a good tracker, and mal sure does have two ears

Sea Whip, That Was Easy™️

all tell, no show, that's the way that we go

god inej is fit

total stranger, for now xx

they're just putting their faces close together on purpose

daaaamn these bitches dead and deading others

ah yes, ignite the bombs while you're in the room

pirate ship cult

Nikolai is a dork

how small is this ocean....

kazs PTSD, a running gag

baby girl, you won't "finally eradicate it for good" right now, it's episode three

aah so they fucked

TINY ROLLINS WEE SCOTTISH BAB

"hey babe, expose your knife wound while i trauma dump plot info"

god inej is fit

nina knows

god nina is fit too

*saoirse ronan* "women"

how many times can this man get stabbed in the shoulder? we're up to three

murder is good, murder is chill, i've got no qualms with murder

too many characters, too many plots, disproportionate amount of time spent on the crows and god bless them for that

"hey bro can i propose to your girlfriend bro"

the mood lighting in this plague cemetery, vibes

HORRIBLE FAKE SCANDINAVIAN LANGUAGE, HORRIBLE -10000/10

girlie pop, youve got to lose the signature fancy hat, you are the most recognisable

dat ass

my man is here to be petty and he's bringing friends along for the ride

no plot! only flirting! as we deserve

let them all be lesbians

SPEEDRUN WESPER

episode four and they're already fucking thank Christ

good good wylan and Jesper are off shagging, I can brood in peace

"no"

time isn't real! geography is a myth! our boats will get there when it's convenient for the plot!

we are criminals, rats of the barrel, and occasionally help foreign royals when they ask nicely

"warm, and wet" the crows in Shu han, the gift that keeps on giving

can't believe I have to watch some reylo shit all over again

Dominik Dominik I sense an ex friend with benefits with our man Nikolai

good let the twink talk to butterflies and ignore the suffering of his friends

deforest station

happy to have a himbo in tolya

not so much a slow death by poisoning as a chance for nice life affirming trips to remotivate our heroes in the ninth hour

"throwing up or hallucinations" the only two possible outcomes of poisoning

she's the avatar!

one night stand to soulmates pipeline

ah yes, continue to make out in the background for everyones big character revelations

"you're a part of me mal, I can't loose you" well murder him and eat his bones and he'll be with you forever

boyfriend to organ donor pipeline

star wars levels of hand amputation, now featuring Mother's Good Finger Bones

"and there was only one set!"

yeah like, they definitely used to fuck, surely

twenty minutes of this episode and no crows, for shame

the crows aka Deus ex machina but make it fun flirty and bisexual

more finger amputations, moooooreeeeee

woohoo C plot lesbians

queue the fire benders

little viking boy, drawing crosses in the sand

Matthias villian origin story set up for season three

fun fact, I don't actually want to see another finger amputation

blue skies and sunny yet these bitches can't see a thing

the location scout must have been so proud of themselves for finding this fort, so proud that they spent two episodes having two identical groups chasing each other around three walls

you know what this big battle scene needs? some music

unecessarily squishy icicle stab sound effects

FIVE MORE FINGERS CUT OFF JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

oh damn she actually did it

slaaaayyyy

"series regular" shows up every two episodes for a single scene unrelated to the main plot

why aren't they lighting the kindling from multiple places and especially from lower down?

good for inej

again with the tiny ocean and instantly finding exactly what you were looking for, ofmd logic

uh oh hehe

gross

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone spoilers #shadow and bone s2 #i very much enjoyed it but also yall this show is objectively not good #i read the crows books but not the main one so i have no idea how accurate it was of an adaptation #i just know it was very silly and im happy i managed to binge it in 24hrs despite having to go to work #wesper #slay #inej #also slay

[risingphoenix87]

Reality bites...so here are more incorrect quotes from my Villain Found Family AU!

Prof. Callaghan: Must be hard not being able to laugh.

Charles: I do have a sense of humor, you know.

Prof. Callaghan: I’ve never heard you laugh before.

Charles: I’ve never heard you say anything funny.

Gothel: Dawn and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us.

Charles: *Sighing* What did Dawn do?

Gothel: She chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Dawn: Who wants a steering wheel?

Turbo: What are your goals?

Charles: To pet all the dogs.

Turbo: No, fitness goals.

Charles: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

(that's on-brand)

Hans: WELCOME TO BIBLE STUDY WE'RE ALL CHILDREN OF JESUS

*the camera cuts to Ernesto snorting coke*

Hans: KUMBAYAAAAA MY LORD

(how does he snort coke when he doesn't have a nose…?)

Dawn: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Ernesto: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

(that's what friends are for)

Gothel: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise

Hans: I beg to differ

Gothel: Then Beg.

Randall: Are you an ‘arr’ pirate, or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate?

Gothel: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

(that's just practical)

Randall: You’re giving me a sticker?

Hans: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Randall: I’m not a preschooler.

Hans: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Randall: I earned this, back off! (hisses)

Dawn, explaining why she's not allowed to cook: I put the noodles in the pot and put the pot on the stove and turned the burner on high. Turns out you don't put noodles in marijuana and I almost burnt the whole house down.

Turbo: You're smiling. What happened?

Charles: What? Can't I smile just because I feel like it?

Randall: Ernesto tripped and fell down the stairs today.

Gothel: Hey, aren’t you Charles Muntz?

Charles: You a cop?

Gothel: No.

Charles: Then yes, I am.

Hans: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight.

Prof. Callaghan: Actually, Hans, after all these years, I just sort of go with it.

Turbo: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey!

Dawn: But I'm a vegan.

Turbo: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

Gothel: Why is Dawn crying on the floor?

Syndrome: She's drunk.

Gothel: And?

Syndrome: She saw a picture of Ernesto's best friend.

Gothel: But she's Ernesto's best friend.

Syndrome: I know.

(in a moment of drunken clarity, she probably remembered what Ernesto did to his last best friend, and is frightened that her days are numbered)

Hans: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.

The Squad: Awwww-

Hans: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

The Squad: Oh.

(He knows he loves them…)

Prof. Callaghan: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Hans: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Gothel: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.

Syndrome: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Randall: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Turbo:

Turbo: I have emotional scars.

Ernesto, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Dawn, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Hans: what the fuck are you guys doing?

Dawn: playing systemic oppression

*The squad's reaction to being told they're the chosen one*

Charles: I will not let you down.

Syndrome: Sounds fun.

Prof. Callaghan: K.

Gothel: No, I'm fucking not.

Turbo: Do I have to be?

Hans: Please god, I am so tired.

Prof. Callaghan: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, and wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

Gothel: That's deep.

Syndrome: That means that ketchup is a smoothie.

Gothel: That's deeper.

Ernesto: ...Idiotas…

Dawn: Just be yourself.

Ernesto: 'Be myself'? Oveja, I have one day to win Slim over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me?

Hans: Couple weeks.

Charles: Six months.

Gothel: Jury’s still out.

Ernesto: See, Oveja?

Ernesto: 'Be myself'. What kind of mierda estupida is that?

*Syndrome is cooking*

Charles: Any chance that’s for me?

Syndrome: It’s for Hans. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need him on my side.

Gothel: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

Hans: Can I be frank with you guys?

Syndrome: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Ernesto: Can I still be Ernesto?

Dawn: Shh, let Frank speak.

(Those little shits)

[Unofficial account of how Ernesto joined the group]

Hans: You kidnapped Ernesto de la Cruz? That’s illegal!

Dawn: But Your Highness, what’s more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing Ernesto, or destroying our dreams?

Hans: Kidnapping Ernesto, Dawn!!!

Syndrome: Hans, listen, whatever I may think of you right now- these guys are counting on you to inspire them!

Hans: What, to kidnap people?!?!

Syndrome: To work together!

Hans: TO KIDNAP PEOPLE?!?!?!?!

Turbo: Hans, we all agreed a celebrity is a not a people.

Hans, trying to convince Charles to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong!

Randall: And loud!

Dawn: And grumpy!

Gothel: And oblivious to reality!

Charles:...

Prof. Callaghan: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for your dogs?

Charles: They need to learn how to protect us.

Randall: What? I'm not aggressive!

Turbo: Last Tuesday, you whacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips?

Randall: Survival of the fittest, bitch.

Dawn: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Randall.

Dawn: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for.

Dawn: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it.

Randall: Hmm... I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either.

Dawn: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though.

Randall: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it.

Dawn: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

Turbo: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into-

Gothel: You sleep with a teddybear.

Turbo: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

Turbo: How does that even work?

Syndrome, mocking him: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?!

Turbo: Your face doesn't make sense.

Dawn: I got us matching friendship bracelets, and you say I don't care about our relationship.

Ernesto: These are handcuffs.

Dawn: Yeah, 'cause we're partners in crime!

(hey, no handcuffing yourself to Ernesto; that's my job! :P)

#disney villains #villainous found family au #incorrect quotes

[spenciegoob]

Dethroned (Requested)

A/N: I know the request said the relationship between Reader and Luke is platonic, but I kinda dropped subtle hints that Luke is slightly pining for Reader... oop.

Request: smutty post-prison Reid being jealous. Like him just being absolutely in love with reader, like he had been since she joined the BAU but was too nervous to say anything so settled for being mega close best friends. Then when he returns from prison he finds out that her and Luke have become close friends whilst he’s been gone (its simply platonic though) and he ends up snapping and just absolutely annihilating the reader over her desk in the office after everyone else has left

Pairing: Post Prison!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: jealous!spencer, exhibition, hair pulling, degradation/praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9K

______

It was a gradual realization on his part. Spencer was so overwhelmed with coming home, his mom and Cat to even really take notice in the shift of your attention from him to Luke Alvez.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored him since his return. You were Spencer’s best friend, the title he settled on all those years ago when you all but skipped into the BAU and into his life.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t have other male friends. Before his leave, Derek and you had gotten along pretty well right off the bat, and Spencer never thought about it twice. If anything, he was ecstatic that two people that were so important in his life were also important to each other.

But when Spencer was stuck behind physical bars that represented every feeling for you he’s tried to keep at bay, you found comfort in Luke. He couldn’t blame you for that either, especially when the first time you visited him all he could see was hurt in your eyes, and all he could do was stare back with the same expression.

The first time he noticed the shift was after everything had settled, and the groove of life, for the team at least, was back in motion. You all had decided to go out and grab a drink, and the second you agreed, Spencer was also on board. He would follow you just about anywhere if it meant the smile on your face when he said yes stayed forever.

Luke had whispered something in your ear, the music in the bar too loud for Spencer to catch what it was. It had to be hilarious by the way you threw your head back in laughter, Luke’s eyes immediately dropping to the newly exposed skin, before nudging his shoulder with yours. 

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off the conversation in front of him. He should have when the grip on his glass was so hard it could’ve shattered. 

“You know, kid, if you talked to her, she’d know how you feel,” Rossi had told him that night.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Spencer thought in his head, but merely gave Rossi a whatever, and walked away to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror that night, hoping the disgust he felt for how angry he got whenever he saw you with Luke was enough to make it disappear.

It never did.

Like right now, Spencer sat at his desk, a rubber band ball being suffocated in his hand as he watched you perch yourself on top of Luke’s desk. It was an innocent act on you part, but the way Luke leaned back in his chair, opening himself up to you, and allowed his eyes to flicker to your bare legs that were swinging back and forth softly was definitely not innocent... not in Spencer’s book anyway.

It came as no surprise to Spencer that Luke would at the very least find you attractive. You were, in every aspect. Spencer could stare at your for hours, and sometimes, he did.

He would look at the way your skirt hugged your curves in the best possible way, or he would stare at your neck when you leaned back to stretch out. He would watch the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, a nervous habit you’ve always had. Spencer would think about how soft they probably were, like silk rubbing against each other.

But now Luke was also looking at you like that while you talked about what you were going to do this weekend. 

“If you’re not busy, you should totally come,” you told him, obviously excited with the idea of Luke tagging along to wherever you planned on going.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he agreed, and when he did, you jumped up off his desk, enthusiasm practically dripping from you.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun, I promise!” And then you did the one thing Spencer silently begged you would never. You kissed Luke on the cheek before scurrying back to your desk.

Of course you would kiss him on the cheek. To you, that was a seemingly innocent and friendly action, one that Spencer had been on the receiving end of for the past 10 years. 

But now, Luke stole his crown and was flaunting it in front of Spencer’s face like an older brother who just got an XBOX for Christmas. Okay, maybe Spencer was a tad on the dramatic side, but how could he not be when Luke all but physically railed you over his desk when his eyes unashamedly did?

There were many things Spencer could take and get back up like nothing had happened. He’s been shot, punched, kicked, framed for murder and hell, he even stabbed himself, but none of that compared to the deep rooted anger that blossomed in his chest like a flame to gasoline when the thought of Luke touching you swarmed his brain.

Enough was enough.

“Alright, you’ve all worked enough today. Please, go home and get some rest,” Emily’s voice traveled from outside her office door to the agents that still inhabited the bullpen like a second home. Most, including Emily in its rarity, gathered their stuff to finally call it a night.

“So, you’ll text me the information?” Luke asked you as he was putting his jacket on. You had yet to move from your slouched position over whatever paperwork you insisted on finishing before leaving. 

“Yeah, definitely!” You beamed up at him before returning back to your case file immediately. Luke walked away with a little more pep in his step than usual per Spencer’s analysis. 

“Hey, Spence. Do you think you can hang back a second and look over this for me?” You asked him, catching the attention of the stumbling genius as he tried to get back to his apartment as fast as possible and deal with his... issues with you and SSA Luke Alvez.

He was going to say no, really he tried, but when he looked up to your puppy dog eyes and slight pout, how could he? Spencer knew you were giving him that face on purpose, he had told you in the past that if you were to ever give him your best puppy dog eyes, he could never refuse.

Now it was coming back to bite him in the...

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer made his way over to your desk that was piled high in paperwork more than anyone else’s.

“I took a bunch of work home, and I accidentally dropped all my files and they scattered every where. So now, all the paperwork is mixed up and Emily needs these by tonight. Basically I’m screwed, but I just wanted to make sure the arsonist in Kentu-”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer interrupted your rambling once he got a grip on himself after adjusting to being so close to you. The smell of your perfume wafted into Spencer’s nose and got him drunk faster than any alcohol could ever. 

“Oh no, Spence. Don’t worry I can handle this,” you immediately shut him down, but Spencer was not easy to convince, and once his mind is set to something, there’s no changing it.

“I want to, trust me.” Spencer had started to roll his desk chair over to you. You sat there momentarily stunned for two reasons:

1. He had dropped everything to help you.

2. He wasn’t affected by the close proximity of you two the same way you were, or at least knew how to hide it really well.

The buzzing of your phone on your desk pulled you from your trance as Spencer settled next to you and went to pull a new file from your overgrowing pile. 

You picked it up to find a text from Luke, opening your phone to a picture of Roxy enjoying the toy you got her last week.

Spencer turned to you to find you smiling and letting out a breathy laugh at your phone.

“What?” He asked, more sarcasm dripping from his tone than expected. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything.

“Just Luke and Roxy. I love that dog so much,” you said while putting your phone on silent and setting it face down. You didn’t look up at Spencer, but if you did you’d find him beet red with anger, and holding the armrests of his chair a little tighter than necessary. 

“Hm,” was all he mumbled in response. This, you didn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong? You really don't have to do this with me,” you fumbled over your words, worried that your clumsiness and disorganization was what was annoying Spencer.

“No no, it’s not this. I like paperwork, actually.” You finally looked over at Spencer to find him already staring at you. His gaze bore into you like a blade to the gut, his intensity something you had never been on the receiving end of. It would be a lie if you were to say it wasn’t making you nervous.

“Then what is it.” Your words were not meant to come out as a whisper, but with Spencer’s intimidation and the way it made your stomach flip, you were overwhelmed already.

“Nothing, just, uh,” his confident persona was gone just as quickly as it came. “You and Luke, huh?”

Now it makes sense. You couldn’t help the small smile that etched across your features at his unknowing admission. Spencer Reid was jealous, actually jealous.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.” Your emphasis on the word friend did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words crawling up his throat out.

“I’m sure he thinks the same about you. The profile in this case fi-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Two can play at this game, and if it was going to end the way the two of you were unknowingly both hoping, you would have to succumb to the rules.

“Hm? Oh! So you’re oblivious to the way he looks at you?” Spencer spat back, jealous intimidation turning to full anger now.

“Jesus, Spencer. Of course I’m not oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I look at him like that.” At this point, you stood up from your chair, Spencer’s approach throwing you off and getting you more worked up than you cared to admit.

“Besides, I have eyes for someone else,” you mumbled quietly under your breath, but Spencer caught it. “I’m calling the night. I suggest you do the same.”

You picked up as many files you could, not wanting to reach over Spencer before turning around to make you descent home.

Before you could get far, though, Spencer grabbed your elbow and spun you back to crash into his hard chest. You gasped, not making eye contact and instead opting for staring at his lips.

“Who?” Spencer asked, also not looking up from your lips. Both of your minds swarmed with the desperation to feel each other’s against your own.

“You.” And that was all he needed to finally succumb to his mind’s wishes. Your lips moved together like a violin bow to a string, creating a perfectly conducted symphony of files falling from your arms and deep inhales of each other.

Spencer reached out behind you, never taking his lips off yours and pushed anything that was on your desk with a deafening crash. Pens, papers and tape now littered the bullpen floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could feel were Spencer’s hands gripping your waist as he hoisted you up to sit you on your now clear desk.

His lips finally detached from yours, the need for oxygen getting in the way of a kiss you wish could last for eternity. They didn’t go very far, Spencer attacking your neck with little nips, surely to leave incriminating bruises. Your hips started to involuntarily roll forward, searching for friction from his hardening member still constrained by his work slacks.

“Spencer, please,” you begged, needing to feel him, all of him at this moment. His lips abandoned your neck to slowly pull back and scan your body like a predator indulging in his final prey one last time before he answered.

“Please what, Princess,” Spencer whispered, his hands moving down to grip your thighs that were attempting to squeeze together at your new pet name.

“Please, fuck me,” you whimpered back. His deep chuckle resonated through you as he leaned closer until he was directly next to your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck causing you to arch your back slightly.

“Right here on your desk like a little whore,” he whispered against you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. Spencer shook his head slightly as he pulled back to grab your chin lightly with two fingers, forcing your head back.

He leaned in as close as possible to whisper against your lips one last time. “Only for you.”

Time stopped as hands sped up in a frenzy to rip each other’s clothes off, lips molding together like a lock and key never wanting to separate, and hips involuntarily grinding against each other in search for some friction in an overwhelming search for release.

Only when Spencer gave up on your shirt buttons and ripped the fabric apart, adding drums in the form of buttons hitting the desk and floor to the song you two collectively decided to dance to tonight, did he allow his lips to leave yours. Slowly, he nipped his way back down your neck, pushing you back softly until your body fully rolled down on the cool wood underneath you. 

Spencer’s eyes found yours again as his hands inched behind you, silently asking for permission to break down yet another barrier between your two bodies. After a pleading whimper from you, he unclasped your bra and slowly pulled it down your arms. 

Spencer maintained eye contact as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak before sinking his teeth in teasingly. Your back arched into him, a strangled whimper leaving your body as the heat between your thighs increased significantly.

“Spencer please hurry. I need you,” you whimpered softly, pulling his hair back from the top of his head in hopes of getting him in an area far more dire in need of attention. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Spencer mumbles in between kisses inching back up your body. His hands make their way under your skirt as he continues. “I want to take my time with you, but given our circumstances,” he paused to take a look at the deserted bullpen. “I’ll give you what you want, and fuck you like a whore.”

There was no other way to explain the way Spencer ripped your panties off so hard the lace snapped under his force than animalistic. He wasted no time stuffing them into his back pocket, and fully separating from you to stand straight and unbuckle his belt. Spencer’s eyes stared down at you, taking in every part of your body to file away in his brain in case he ever needs it. His once honey brown orbs were now absorbed with black, his pupils full and his eyes displaying a kind of fire only lust can fuel.

Once his belt was fully off, he smirked and folded it in his hands. Staring at the new object of his desire, he tantalizingly shook it back and forth slowly, watching the way it bounced with his movements.

“Should I gag you with this so you don't alert the whole goddamn building of how desperate you are?” Spencer looked back at you to find your cheeks a deep shade of red, partially at his degrading tone, but mostly at the idea of being gagged.

“No, sir. I wanna feel you.” The title slipped past your lips with no control or hesitation. Your cheeks burned further as Spencer’s movements stopped, his eyes widening slightly. 

“Fuck it,” he whispered before throwing the belt on the floor and unzipping his pants with more speed than you've ever seen him move. 

Spencer gave you zero time to even register his size before he was stepping in between your legs, lining himself up and slamming into you to the hilt with one hand, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back hard, all while never taking his eyes off you.

You couldn’t stop the loud gasp leaving your body as Spencer groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he grounded out, the soft growl in his tone causing you to whimper and clench around him.

When he felt you start to squirm underneath him after adjusting to his size, Spencer started to move, setting a brutal pace immediately. Your entire body felt like it became engulfed in flames, the feeling of Spencer repeatedly hitting the sweetest spot inside you over and over with a force unmatched was too much to handle.

Tears started to well in your eyes as the soft whimpers and pleads left your lips. Spencer pulled himself from his position tucked neatly into your neck to stare down at you, never relenting on his pace.

“What’s wrong, Princess,” he teased, a smirk growing across his features at your tears. “Is it too much for your little cunt? What happened to the girl that begged to be fucked like a whore?”

Spencer let go of his grip on your hair to wipe the tears blackened with mascara that were running down your face. 

“So good, sir. Please don’t stop,” you mumbled, only half coherent. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer filling you completely. His dark eyes flickered down from your face only for a second, but when he looked back up at you, excitement joined the lust in them, a swirl of emotions destined to destroy you in the end.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands that was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks he wished would last forever. He placed in on your stomach, and confusion filled your mind for a moment until you felt the tip of his cock hit your hand.

“You feel that, Princess? You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna fill you up.” Your back arched, and you finally released a loud, wanton moan at his words. Spencer didn’t miss the way you clenched around him tighter at the thought. “God, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, make you - fuck- carry my child. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each word, and when Spencer lifted one of your legs into the crook of his elbow, hitting you impossibly deeper, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

“Oh G-god, Spence. I- I’m gonna....”

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you,” he groaned back, lifting two fingers to your lips before forcing them into your mouth. Instinctively, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on his digits. “Let go, Princess.”

All you needed was his permission before letting your orgasm rock through you, the muscles in your body seemingly losing and gaining all the tension in the world at once, your vision going white, and your mind blank except for one thought; Spencer.

Your loud moans were blocked by his fingers pushing deeper down your throat, catching them before any unwanted guests could hear. 

Your moans started to turn to whimpers around his fingers as the overstimulation kicked in. Spencer could sense it by the way you still clung to him as tightly as possible.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re doing so well, Princess, taking all of me,” he growled out, his hips losing their rhythm, signaling his own impending orgasm. Spencer leaned down further, pushing your leg farther up in the process, and again, hitting you deeper than imaginable.

Two more sloppy thrusts in that position, and Spencer was coming deep in you with your name and different praises being groaned in your ear. He bottomed out once more, coming to a stop buried deep, both of you trying your hardest to catch your breath.

When he started to pull out, you whimpered immediately at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m almost done,” Spencer whispered, caressing your cheek as he fully unsheathed himself. The abandoned weight of him on top of you, and the loss of his cock filling you up left you cold as he went to rummage through your drawers for tissues, but all you could do was stare up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, your body still slightly twitching.

When Spencer returned to you, he sat you up and kissed your forehead before reaching in between your legs to clean you up. The second the tissue hit your sensitive cunt, you winced.

Spencer looked back up at you but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling softly as you reached up to caress his cheek. Upon your approval, he went back to cleaning you up. “Actually, I’m more than okay. That was.. That was-”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. “I know, right?”

“Maybe we should thank Luke,” you teased him. Immediately, his smile faded and he looked up at you with an expression that can only read “Seriously?”

You let out a full laugh now, obviously still entertained with the idea that the Dr. Spencer Reid was jealous of Luke Alvez.

“I’m joking,” you said, your smile turning from one of hilarity to adoration as Spencer straightened back up to stand between your legs and wrap his arms around your waist. “And Spence, it’s always been you. Not Luke, not anyone else. You.” You emphasized your point by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Good, because that would make this really awkward,” he said back. You tilted your head in confusion to which he laughed at before continuing. “Do you want to go grab dinner?”

Your cheeks blushed profusely as he asked you out as if you didn’t just let him take you over your own desk at work. 

“I would love to say yes, but I still have to finis-” When you turned around to look at the pile of paperwork you had yet to complete, it was no longer on your desk, but scattered around it. During the rush of trying to feel each other completely, the two of you failed to notice the stack of files that started this whole thing had fallen all over the bullpen floor.

“Emily is going to kill me,” you said, turning back to Spencer who was still staring at the now empty spot on your desk.

“Actually, she has two reasons to kill us now.” You threw you head back in laughter, Spencer joining you at the thought of Emily finding out about the last 30 minutes. “But seriously, you go deal with the security footage, and I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

“Hmmmm...” You pretended to ponder the thought of not having to do all of that paperwork by yourself anymore. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Spencer repeated back, smiling softly before kissing you one more time.

__

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[levi-my-beloved]

Can I request a chubby!levi x reader (fluff)

Just The Way You Are

Summary: Levi comes home to find you in a negative spiral, and does what he can to make you feel better

Warnings: weight and body insecurities

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: Of course anon! hehe, i'm kind of excited this is my first request :> I was going to save writing these for after i've moved into my new accommodation but I got too excited hehehehe

I hope this is what you had in mind ^-^

You’d never been insecure about your physique if you were truly being honest with yourself. Sure, you’ve had a few nasty insults thrown your way, and school was always an interesting experience since young kids are renowned for their…

Brutality…

But as you grew older, you just kind of realised that’s how kids were, and most people are a lot more accepting as an adult. Emphasis on most.

Most of the time, you liked your curves. Most of the time you didn’t mind the stretch marks or the cellulite patterns on your thighs. But there were days when you’d look through a magazine at all the flawless, lithe models with their smooth, tanned skin and sharp, angular faces and a small bubble of insecurity would rise to the surface of your mind.

When it came to negative thoughts, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boyfriend. You knew Levi always kept an open, understanding mind, and he never once ridiculed you for anything, and would never dream about ridiculing you.

But there was something about this time that made you pause. It could be because he was stressed with work, or it could be because you’d let that little seed of self-doubt flourish and blossom into a dark, stormy flower. These were the same thoughts swirling around your head as you glared daggers at the statue-perfect weather woman on the screen of your TV. Did she have to wear that skin tight, short dress? Did she have to show off her lean thighs and long legs?

A sigh escaped your nose as you continued to slice through the vegetables you were preparing for tonight. You’d promised Levi you’d cook for him since he was so busy at the moment, and you’d wanted to make a warm soup for these winter months. Glancing at the small pile of carrots, peppers and now tomatoes, your growing insecurity provoked you to split the pile into two. You’d still cook for Levi, of course, but not for you.

Crossing to your fridge, you brought out an iceberg lettuce for you to chop later and make a salad for yourself. You shivered slightly as the cool air from within caressed your face and neck, briefly lamenting the loss of a hot meal to warm you up. But this was better, for both of you.

A pit of guilt ridden dread opened within your stomach as your already negative mindset continued to drag you into a downwards spiral. Did Levi not like your physique? Did he find it unattractive? Did he find you unattractive?

You tried to shake these rhetorical questions, laughing at yourself for having such stupid ideas in your head. Of course Levi found you attractive, otherwise he wouldn’t be with you… right?

But…

What if…

What if he was just with you out of pity…?

What if he’d realised he’d feel bad for leaving you for someone who didn’t have stretch marks on their body, and could wear a bikini with full confidence. Not that you couldn’t. Well, not in the past anyway. Right now? You felt if you saw yourself in skimpy clothing you’d burst into tears.

“I think those tomatoes are chopped enough,” you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice behind you, dropping the knife onto the wooden board as you whirled around to face the slightly smirking visage of your raven haired man.

“Jesus fucking christ you scared the shit out of me,” you breathed, trying to calm your live-wire nerves. “I had a knife! What if I’d accidentally stabbed you!” Levi quirked a brow, unfolding his arms before crossing your kitchen and wrapping them around you, holding you against him. You cringed a tad, shifting out of your boyfriend’s arms before he could properly secure you. “I’m cooking, don’t distract me,” your lighthearted teasing was usually enough to throw most people of the scent of your increasingly crippling insecurity, but Levi knew your diversion trickery and simply decided not to comment, saving the little moment for later when he had the proper time to talk to you. Keeping one eye on you, he stepped up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What're you making?” he queried, eyeing the small pile of vegetables soon to be whizzed in the blender. It didn’t seem like enough for two people if he was being honest.

“Soup. It’s soup season. You need something warm and filling so I decided to make a vegetable soup,” you tried to ignore the feeling of his hair tickling the side of your face, concentrating instead on putting the ingredients into the blender along with some salt, pepper and water. You’d add the chicken stock after, when it was in the pan.

“That doesn’t look like enough food…” Levi’s suspicious tone didn’t go unnoticed, and you gulped slightly. You tried to give yourself enough time to come up with an answer, but the longer you pondered, the more suspicious your irritatingly perceptive boyfriend became. Only emphasised by the second, smaller pile of vegetables and the iceberg lettuce still waiting for your blade.

“Eh, I wasn’t really in a soup mood,” you refused to elaborate unprompted, hoping to end this conversation as quickly and efficiently as you could.

“So what’re you having?”

“Gonna make myself a salad I think.”

“(Y/N), it’s winter.”

“Last I checked, we weren’t sleeping under the stars tonight. I don’t need food to keep me warm, just loo–” you managed to stop your self deprecating comment before you insult yourself, cutting yourself off mid word. “I had a big lunch anyway,” a lie. You’d had an orange for lunch, too busy with work to actually make yourself something, and not having the lunch break to run out and grab a sandwich. But honestly, after your violent storm of self doubt, you weren’t feeling very hungry.

You could feel Levi’s narrow stare bare a hole in the side of your head as he took his chin off your shoulder and stepped around you, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Mhm? A big lunch? Whatcha have?” fuck, this was a test now, wasn’t it? God fucking damnit, so much for being inconspicuous.

“Oh, just like a– uh... pasta.”

“You had a pasta?”

You were glad when the blender whirred to life, cutting the conversation short. Your eyes never left that liquifying broth, refusing to even look at the raven haired man to your left. Would it kill him not to pry for once? This all felt so unnecessary.

The silence was agonising when you released the button on the processor, almost exaggerating your movements so your limpet of a boyfriend would get the hint and leave you alone.

Unfortunately, this didn’t work in your favour.

“So… a pasta?”

“Oh my god what does it matter? Why is this suddenly so damn important?” you turned away from him, crouching down to pull a small pan out from the cabinets beneath the counter, flicking on the stovetop ring and watching it glow red. You didn’t even realise he’d moved until his hand covered yours around the saucepan handle, gently putting it to the side.

“Because you’re lying to me. And I want to know why,” there was no malintent in his voice. No anger or unease. He was concerned, to say the least. You’d been acting a little strange over the past three days, but it had been so much worse this evening. Levi was glad he managed to get home a little early today.

You took a breath, turning back to face him, hands flicking and fiddling nervously with the hem of your sweater.

“Okay, fine… jeez you’re so persistent.” you waited for any kind of signal that the tension had ebbed away, but there was no such movement from the man as he simply stood opposite you, waiting for you to continue.

Shit, when did it get so warm? You assumed it must be from the hob heating up, right?

“I uh… fuck. Look, I don’t really know how to like, put this into words? It’s kinda hard to articulate but uh… Jesus fucking Christ this is so stupid…” you ran a hand through your hair, taking yet another deep breath to calm your stuttering heart. “I– You’re not– Fuck, I mean like–”

“Are you breaking up with me?” well that certainly caught you off guard. You weren’t exactly expecting such a question, and especially not in such a flat tone. Your eyes flew wide, gaping at his almost bored expression, arms once again folded over his chest as if he didn’t even care.

But he did… right?

“No! God, no! No, that’s not… unless you– unless you want to break up…?” you didn’t think you’d ever sounded smaller than you did right now. Crossing your arms across your midsection, across your stomach, you looked away. And with your eyes on the ground, you missed a flash of worried confusion in Levi’s eyes.

“Why the hell would I want that?” his accusatory tone almost made you wince as you looked back to his regularly schooled expression, trying to see past the damn mask he always put up when something wasn’t going right.

“I just… I don’t want you to feel trapped with me. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay with me out of some civil duty or something. I just…” you subconsciously glanced at the TV, the show having changed now from the news to some sort of dating programme. All the girls strutting around with their skinny, lean bodies and flawless smooth skin. Anyone else would have missed it. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed the specific programme glaring on the screen. The open magazine on the coffee table depicting celebrity diets and their progress shots. Anyone else would have missed the way you tried to hide your figure today with the baggy sweater and equally baggy sweatpants, the way you crossed your arms over your stomach eventually.

But to Levi, these were all puzzle pieces he put together to solve you. Everything clicked in his head, from the salad to the stupid lie about your lunch. However you clearly felt the need to continue. To elaborate, despite wanting the conversation to just be over.

“I know I’m not the most… physically attractive girl in the world. I’m not… you know, skinny or lean. I don’t have that thigh gap and you can’t exactly, like, show me off, you know? I just–” It was Levi who cut you off this time, gently lifting your chin with his hand to brush his lips against yours, silencing you.

“Do you really think skinny is the only physically attractive trait? Do you really think I’d be in a pity relationship with you because you think you’re not the most attractive girl ever to exist?” you swallowed, unable to really answer his murmured questions as he forced you to look back at him after you tried to glance away.

“But… don’t you want something… I don’t know, more? Better? You could have anyone you wanted Levi, look at you! So why the hell are you sticking with me?” a stray tear steadily trailed down your cheek, singularly managing to break his heart.

“That’s why I’ve got you. I do have who I want. It’s my fucking honour to show you off. I get the privilege to say to our friends and all the people we meet that you’re mine. What the hell could be better than that?” you let him guide you into his chest, nestling your face in the crook of his neck and allowing your tears to fall freely now without an audience. “I don’t say it enough, (Y/N), but you’re gorgeous. You’re so fucking gorgeous. There isn’t a single thing I would change about you, or your body. I’m so sorry I’ve let you think like this, but you are objectively stunning,” your breath hitched in your throat. You’ve never heard him speak with such conviction before and you honestly didn’t know how to respond.

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you softly nuzzled into his chest, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“Did you just objectify me?” you lightly teased through your now slightly stuffy state. A low chuckle reverberated through Levi’s chest, the vibrations from which you could feel in your soul.

“Yes, but I’m allowed to, because I love you. So fucking much,” there were no words you could think of that described just how warm you felt. And not the sweaty, uncomfortable warmth from earlier.

This was softer, cosier. Like a bowl of warm soup on a cold winter’s evening. A blanket of reassurance settled over your shoulders, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the man who’s embrace currently held you tight.

“I love you too. Thank you, Levi. I know it was stupid but… just been feeling insecure I guess,” you shrugged within his arms, Levi refusing to let you go.

“Don’t. It wasn’t stupid. No insecurity is stupid… idiot.” a soft giggle bubbled to the surface of your voice, shifting your head slightly so you could look at him properly through silver lined eyes. His hand came up to gently cup your face, brushing away the blotchy tear stains. “Let’s put the rest of those vegetables in the soup. But I’m not eating it if it tastes like shit.” Levi swore he lived to see your grin. His sole purpose in life was to make you smile. To make you laugh and feel loved.

“Oh shut up, you love my cooking,” you pouted through your wide, contented smile. An expression Levi mirrored as he stooped down to gently kiss you again.

“That I do.”

#levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #snk levi #captain levi #levi attack on titan #levi imagine #aot x reader #aot levi #aot requests #levi one shot #levi drabbles #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #snk fanfiction #levi fanfiction #essa's requests

[nanayoungishere]

Play It Cool (Part Nine)

He decided to cook you breakfast.

Though not before staring at your sleeping face for a while.

You looked so peaceful, so content as you nuzzled into his chest. You fit so perfectly in his arms, felt so warm and soft. The little noises you made and the way you clutched him closer, murmuring his new name in your sleep, made him feel as though his heart would burst out of his chest.

He didn’t want to let you go.

But he had to, because your stomach was grumbling in your sleep. He knew you hadn’t eaten much that day, aside from the milkshake at the diner. Too busy completing course work, too busy working, too busy trying to survive another day. You weren’t afforded any time to take care of yourself.

It made him ache, thinking of how much you’ve been suffering. It made him want to cry, thinking about how unhealthy you were.

It made him hate.

Hate your boss, your teachers, your landlord, your whore of a roommate for making you push yourself like this. All those people surrounded you, all those people who supposingly cared for you and none of them even tried to help you? To relieve some of your burdens? None of them cared, despite how utterly perfect you were?

It made his blood boil. It made his hands itch with the need to grab a knife and --

You let out a pained whimper. He snapped out of his thoughts to find that he had clutched you a bit too tight to his chest.

He immediately relaxed, whispering apologies to your unconscious form, rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your face smoothed out, becoming peaceful once more, entangling your legs with his.

“Honey…”

God. He really didn’t want to get up.

But he forced himself to, gently and slowly untangling himself from your arms. You didn’t like that at all, your hands subconsciously grasping out towards him, chasing his warmth, your face set in a heartbreaking expression that made him want to get down on his knees and apologize.

He settled for kissing you. On your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, your neck. His teeth grazing your tender flesh, causing you to shiver and blush. You slumped back into the sheets, overstimulated even in your sleep.

So adorable.

Maybe you made another mess? You got so excited, so quickly. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge.

He licked his lips, his fingers trailing down your clothed body. The sheets, your clothes were still stained. Maybe before he cooked you breakfast, he should clean it up for you? He didn’t want you to wake up feeling uncomfortable after all.

He leaned over you, his eyes darting to your face every now and then to see if you’d wake up.

His tongue unfurled. Just a little taste…

Afterwards he lovingly tucked you in, running his hands through your hair one more time before heading to the kitchen.

Hopefully he had something in his fridge…

---------------------------------------------------

The moment you woke up, you felt a deep ache in your chest.

And when you sat up, and looked around at the empty room, you realized why.

He wasn’t here.

Maybe he was in the living room? Maybe he went to the bathroom? Maybe he was just outside, in the hallway?

You checked everywhere, looking through closets, checking under beds, underneath the couch. You left no stone unturned and he wasn’t there.

Did he leave me?

No, he couldn’t have. He would’ve kicked you out of the apartment if he didn’t want you here.

He could be with someone else.

No way. He was so interest in you --

Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s humoring you because he’s sorry your such a desperate freak.

He wouldn’t do that. Honey’s too sweet, too kind and nice to do something like that to you. He wouldn’t hurt you like that.

Right?

Maybe he didn’t leave by himself.

What if someone took him?

No.

No, there’s no way someone could’ve taken him, because if they did --

What if he’s hurt?

What if he’s dying right now?

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no --

Then you saw something out of the corner of your eye. A note taped to the door.

Went out to buy breakfast! I’ll be back in thirty minutes!

Love you darling,

Honey~

The surge of pure relief you felt put you on the floor. You cradled that note to yourself like it was a teddy bear, like it was a lifeline, like it was a priceless, one-of-a-kind jewel that you lucked out into having.

He was just getting breakfast.

He didn’t leave you.

He was fine.

You freaked the fuck out over nothing. Again. Just like you did last night (or was it early morning?) when you tried to fucking tie him up in his sleep.

You carefully set the note aside before cradling your head in your hands and screaming.

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell were you thinking?! What the fuck possessed you to do something so stupid and illegal and wrong and -- and --

He would’ve hated you. Absolutely, one hundred percent, would have wanted nothing to do with you after that. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

But if you kept him to yourself --

How? How the fuck would you have kept him to yourself? There’s no way you would’ve gotten away with it. It was totally a spur of the moment, dumbass, let’s-risk-everything-on-this-poorly-thought-out-decision fuckup! All it would take was him screaming to his neighbors and it would’ve all been over.

But if you planned it out…

If you found a better place…

If you took your time…

You hesitated.

...no. No, no, no, you were not thinking about it. It was wrong and fucked up.

The things you were feeling, the things you were doing, were already bad enough. It was insanity, it was obsessive, it was wrong. And if you crossed this line, if you went this far, then you’d be a monster.

Would that be such a bad thing?

You picked up the note, tracing the words with your finger.

Love you darling

He said he loved you. He said he loved you.

That -- that had to mean something, right? You had to be in a good spot with him, right? The relationship must’ve been going good.

So far.

So you didn’t need to kidnap him. You didn’t need to do something monstrous just to keep him.

Yet.

You rubbed the note against your palms. You could almost feel his fingers trailing across the page, his mind mapping out the words even as his pen wrote across the paper.

Fuck, maybe you should frame it? Keep it hanging up in your room so you could stare at it, forever.

Or maybe you can get it laminated. That way you could lick the page without worrying about the paper getting torn up or the ink running.

You pressed the note to your nose and sniffed. God, you could just about smell him and --

You carefully folded it and put it in your pocket. Then you slapped yourself.

God, get your shit together! Stop being such a fucking freak!

KNOCK KNOCK

You jumped, panic filling you at the thought of Honey seeing you act like such a freak. You immediately started making excuses. “I-I-I wasn’t sniffing your note Honey, I swear!”

KNOCK KNOCK

It was coming from the front door. You breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t see you.

KNOCK KNOCK

You smoothed out your clothes and tried to fix your hair. Shit, you should’ve straightened yourself out earlier! What if he was disgusted because of how much of a fucking mess you were right now?

KNOCK KNOCK

“C-coming!”

You opened the door. “H-hey! Thanks for --”

You stopped. It wasn’t Honey.

“Oh I… didn’t know Peter had guests.”

It was a woman. Young, in her twenties, just about your age. With bright red hair, freckles, red glasses, a heart shaped face, and a fairly curvy figure that all together, would’ve made you think she was cute.

If not for the huge, slashing scar across her face.

From the upper corner of her face, crossing diagonally towards her chin, going through her eye, nose, and lips. Like someone had taken a knife and tried to cut her face up, but settled for simply slashing right through. Who knows, someone might have.

“Um…”

You blinked. Oh shit, did she catch you staring? “Sorry, I --”

Then what she said registered.

Peter? Was that Honey’s real name?

Holy shit. You knew his real name!

Peter.

Peter.

Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter

Fuck, that’s such a good name. Way fucking better than Honey. Would it be weird if you started calling him that?

But he really seemed to like it when you called him Honey…

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Oh, she was still talking. Shit, you shouldn’t be ruder than you already were --

“I just wanted to give him these.” She said, holding out a bag. “I left them by his door, but I don’t think he noticed.”

It was a bag of cookies.

In the shape of hearts.

And it wasn’t fucking Valentines Day. Wasn’t even close to February.

So that meant --

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes laser focused on the cookies. On the ugly bitch that was holding them.

She was saying something but you couldn’t find it in yourself to give two fucks because it was taking everything you had not to strangle her right then and there because look at her.

Look at her.

Look at this freckled fuck.

Giving him cookies, knowing his real name, showing up at his door like a fucking hooker.

You should've known from the moment you laid eyes on her. Shouldn’t have answered that fucking door.

Fuck, what if Honey (Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter) had been here? Would she have batted her ugly, filthy eyelashes at him, pressed her flabby breasts against him, and tried to take him away?

Had she done that before?

For all you knew… she could be his ex. She could have --

touched him kissed him hugged him talked to him cradled him fucked him

The surge of rage and hatred you felt filled you so quickly and so suddenly that you had to hold the door to keep yourself steady. You could feel your vision blacking out at the edges, could feel your entire body shaking, trembling with the need to --

rip tear crush stab bash slice break hit kill kill kill kill

Because she wanted to take him from you.

Take Honey, your Peter, the love of your life, the one who made you feel, truly feel for the first time in forever. The one you feel in love with, the one who made you feel so happy, so content, the one that filled your dreams, filled your every waking moment with joy and ecstasy.

This woman -- no.

This fucking ingrate wanted to take what was --

mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

“...seen him? I just wanted to give these to him before I got back to work.”

You snapped back to reality.

The bitch was staring at you, her ugly, scarred face showing an uncertain expression.

Your fingers flexed. You took a step forward.

I want to kill her.

You heard a door slam. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone step out of their apartment. A man, fiddling with their phone.

He glanced towards the two of you.

Fuck.

It was like you got splashed with cold water. The rage and hatred was still there, but controlled. Contained.

You had to hold it together. You had to keep your cool. Because if you hurt this woman -- if you got caught, which you absolutely would -- then he would know.

And he’d never, ever want anything to do with you again.

You tried to smile. “He’s… not here right now. Just -- just give them to me. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

Her expression fell. “Um --”

You snatched the bag from her hands. “Who are you? What was your name again?”

“Uh, I’m Lizzie Bee,” she said, pointing to herself. “I’m Peter’s landlord.”

Landlord?

Fuck, then you really couldn’t kill her. You’d be putting Honey/Peter out of a home.

“Right. I’m Y/N.” Your smile might’ve turned into a snarl, but who the fuck cared? Not you. “Peter’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” She didn’t look the slightest bit concerned. The whore. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

You resisted the urge to slam the door on her face. “Likewise.”

You watched her walk away, disappearing around the hall. You made sure to take note of where she went before slamming the door.

Without her in front of you, taunting you with her presence, you could feel your rage and hatred subsiding. The urge to kill was fading with every second you got to breathe and collect yourself.

You couldn’t kill her.

You couldn’t kill her.

It was too risky wrong. It was wrong and you knew it was wrong, because you were a normal person.

What normal person falls in love at first sight?

What normal person becomes murderously possessive over someone they’ve only met for a couple of days?

What normal person considers kidnapping the one they love?

Shut the fuck up.

Your hands trembled as you ran them through your hair. You had to make a plan. Had to figure out what to do to deal with that bitch.

You couldn’t lose him to someone else. Just the thought of it was --

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no

please

please God don’t let anyone take him away from me please

You felt tears pricking your eyes. You swallowed back a sob, trying to ignore the ache in your chest.

You would figure something out. You had to.

But first, you needed to flush every single one of these cookies down the fucking toilet.

(Previous)

(Next)

#your boyfriend #yourboyfriendgame #Play It Cool #y/n #yb #Y/N's urge to kill is rising #but they're trying to keep their cool #because murder is wrong #and can make your boyfriend not like you

[gernades]

Ace is gone. He’s been gone for five weeks. 

Nancy has had a lot of time to think. 

She sees the places where he used to be- the kitchen, his house, the spot in his driveway where Florence is always parked- and can’t stop looking at them. 

“Nancy?” 

Nancy blinks and looks up. Ace’s mother is watching her, hands resting on the dough, eyes concerned. “Are you okay?” 

Today they’re making babka-chocolate bread, braided in sections and glazed with egg wash. Nancy looks down. She’s not very good at braiding, but it mostly looks like Rebecca’s dough. 

“I’m fine,” she says, a half-smile working its way across her face. “It’s just been a long week.” Another week without Ace.  She doesn’t know why she’s here, in his house- in his kitchen- but Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind. She never has.

Nancy’s here every other day, now. They’ve made bread and biscuits and a dozen Jewish desserts that Nancy is now addicted to. 

Sometimes, Thom joins them. 

( “He’s taken quite the shine to you,” Rebecca whispers on one such day, eyes sparkling. “He’s not like this with everyone.” 

Nancy doesn’t bring up the ASL textbooks sitting new and shiny on her desk at home. 

Talking about me again, Thom signs over his shoulder, and Rebecca laughs, flicks him on the shoulder. )

Now, Rebecca gently sets down her dough and wipes her fingers off on her apron. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

No, thank you, is Nancy’s knee jerk reaction. She pauses before letting the words come out. She’s been doing that more often, as of late. Sana-her therapist- would be proud. 

Nancy purses her lips and drags a finger through the loose flour on the counter. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just… going through a lot with my dad’s business, and... I can’t help but feel like I’m never going to be happy again.” 

The last part she doesn’t mean to say out loud. “I’m sorry,” Nancy says immediately, and lifts her head up. “That was…” 

“Oh, honey,” Rebecca whispers. Her eyes are shiny. “I don’t know exactly what’s been going on, but I can tell that it’s been hard on you. You’ve always been so strong. Just like your mother.” 

“Hm,” Nancy manages, throat tight and vision blurry. When Rebecca bustles around the table and wraps her arms around her, she doesn’t pull away. 

Rebecca smells like soap and rosemary: she is warm and accepting and she makes Nancy’s heart hurt less. This will have to end eventually, but she can’t help but lean into it anyway.

                                                              *** 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time out of the house,” Carson remarks later that night. 

They’re sitting at the dinner table, doing their best to eat what is supposed to be spaghetti, courtesy of Ryan. He’s still learning how to use basic appliances: his cooking is dangerous.

 Nancy wrinkles her nose and stabs at a coagulated lump of pasta. 

“Yeah. Nothing bad. I’ve just been… baking.” 

Ryan hums and shoves a forkful of food into his mouth. Nancy and Carson watch in amazement as he gets it down without gagging. “You’re really good at it, too. That, uh, chocolate croissant thingy you brought home yesterday was amazing.” 

Nancy raises an eyebrow, amused. “The rugelach?” 

Ryan jabs his fork into the air. “Yes. So good.” 

“Spending time with Rebecca, I gather?” Carson’s voice is light and free of judgement. Before the whole Wraith thing, Nancy would have pulled up her walls, deflected the conversation. 

It’s a little different now, though, so Nancy just nods. “It’s just... nice to have someone to talk to who’s normal.” 

Carson sighs and rubs her shoulder. “I understand that completely.” 

“Hey,” Ryan states, expression pinched, “is pasta supposed to make my stomach bubbly?” 

Nancy and Carson exchange a long, tired look. 

They take Ryan to the ER for food poisoning. 

                                                              *** 

George slams a palm down onto the table. Her engagement ring sparkles in the afternoon light. Nancy jumps. “It’s been quiet, Drew. Too quiet. I don’t trust it.” 

Nancy takes a long look around the Claw. It’s nearly packed to the brim with customers- their Yelp ratings have skyrocketed since the staff have actually started working again. “This is your idea of quiet?” 

George groans and slides into the opposite booth. “You know what I mean. We’ve had nothing supernatural happen for almost a month. It’s driving me crazy.” 

“Good,” Nancy replies mildly, and takes another bite of her crab roll. “I’m taking a sabbatical from sleuthing.” 

Sana was the one to suggest a break from anything stressful- like sports or large events! Avoiding murder and possession via the paranormal probably isn’t what her therapist means, but Nancy can read between the lines. 

George screeches. Half the restaurant turns to look at them. They turn back when they see who it is. 

“What?” She narrows her eyes and leans in. “Okay. I never thought I’d live to see the Hero of Horseshoe Bay gives herself a break.” She crosses her arms. “I’m proud of you, Nancy.” 

Nancy’s heart hums. She sends George a grateful smile. “Thanks.” 

George smiles back. “Your lunch break was over ten minutes ago, by the way. I need you to clean out the grease traps.” 

Nancy’s smile drops. 

The grease traps are gross, hard work. They’re also the last normal thing Nancy did with Ace, which is equal parts sad and amusing. 

She grits her teeth and scrubs her cloth against the dirty metal. At least it’s cool here, in the kitchen, and away from the always-prying eyes of customers. 

The bell above the restaurant door tinkles faintly. Nancy sighs and dips her rag into the bucket of degreaser. 

Bess screams, high-pitched and excited. “Ace!” 

Nancy stands up so quickly that she knocks the bucket onto its side. No way. 

He can’t be back- it’s too soon, too late. Nancy needs to think more. If he’s back, she can’t go to his house again, can she?

Heart pounding, she creeps over to the window and peers into the restaurant. He’s surrounded by Bess and George- and, after a moment, Nick jogs in from the parking lot, smile blinding. 

Nancy wants to go see him. She does. Her feet seem to have other ideas, though. She can’t seem to move at all. 

Ace looks good. His hair is longer, and sun-bleached; his skin is tanned. Even from this distance Nancy can see the new freckles on his face. 

There’s a leather jacket, black and tight around his shoulders- and two new silver studs in his ears. He’s smiling. He looks happy.

 Nancy’s chest aches. 

“Hey,” she hears him say to George, “Where’s Nancy?” 

Nancy takes a half step backwards. 

“Cleaning the grease traps in the kitchen,” George replies, spreading her arms in a grand gesture. “The best job in the world.” 

Ace laughs. 

Nancy runs. 

She doesn’t really run- she simply makes a strategic, tactical retreat into the staff room and out the back door. 

There’s no time to overthink it- not yet, her brain and heart agree. Not yet. 

Nancy thanks her former self for parking her car at the very edge of the lot. Nobody notices as she pulls out onto the road, a full two hours before her shift is supposed to end. 

Ooh, she’s a little runaway! Bon Jovi croons on the radio. Daddy’s girl learned fast- 

Nancy grits her teeth and pushes her foot against the accelerator. 

All those things he couldn’t say! Ooh, she’s a little runawa-

Nancy spins the radio dial with fumbling fingers, and spends the rest of her drive listening to germanic opera. 

“Shit.” 

                                                               *** 

“Jesus,” Ryan says when he opens the front door. “You look worse than I do, and I spent three hours getting my stomach pumped last night.” 

Nancy pushes past him without a word. 

Ryan’s voice lowers, softens. “Nancy. Hey.” He reaches out, gently wraps a hand around her wrist. She stops walking. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Nancy says, but her words come out wobbly, uneven. 

Ryan scoots a little closer. “Okay, well… that’s a lie.” 

Nancy snorts. “Ace is back.” 

Ryan smiles, relieved. “That’s great!” He pauses. “Isn’t it?” When she says nothing, he squints his eyes, searches her face. “Oh,” he says finally. “I see.” 

Nancy stiffens, alarmed. “How did you-,” 

Ryan sighs and taps his cheek. “We make the same kind of face, you know. Genetics and all that.” 

“Shit,” Nancy says again, and tries very hard not to sink through the floor. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryan promises. “I wont say anything.”

“What’s going on?” 

Ryan and Nancy turn to face Carson, who is wrapped in a purple robe, fresh out of the shower. He takes one look at the expression on Nancy’s face and rushes over. “Is there another entity-,” 

“No,” Nancy says vehemently. She drops her head onto his shoulder, breathes in the smell of his aftershave. “I’m just not feeling well.” 

Neither of her dads press her for more- they simply stand like that, the three of them, for a very long time. 

                                                              *** 

        George: where the hell are u?? 

        George: hello? nancy?

        George: are u ok

        Bess: ACE IS BACK!!!! :D

        Bess: wait where r u 

        Nick: Did something happen? 

        Ace: hey. i just got back. where are you? 

“No,” Nancy says softly, and turns off her phone. “I am not good.” 

She needs a plan. Something to protect herself, and to spare everyone from the complications that one-sided feelings often bring. It’s been a good five weeks, if she doesn’t include the whole Ace thing. It’s been peaceful. Happy. 

She doesn’t want to ruin that. 

Nancy draws her knees up to her chest and stares out the window. I think I’ll just have to pretend. It’s either that, or avoiding Ace altogether- which would be impossible.

No more baking with Rebecca and Thom, either. That hurts more than Nancy wants to admit- but she’s already made up her mind. She’ll keep her feelings on the back burner, and do her best to keep things normal. 

With a sigh, she stands, and goes upstairs to take a much-needed nap. 

She dreams again. It’s the same one she’s been having every night for the past five weeks.

Nancy dreams of silk and cigarette smoke- because Ace always has to light one up after he has a joint- and of the ocean. The waves lap at the shore, rhythmic and quiet. It’s peaceful, here. Safe.

She dreams about a cliff, soft grass: warm, roving hands and a familiar mouth against her own. If she calls out his name in her sleep, that’s her problem.

 If she wakes up sweaty and teary-eyed, that’s her problem, too.

#VERY quick thing before work #just thinkin. yanno. #nace #ficlet #t

[imagineredwood]

5. “It was my birthday today.” “Today?”

Summary: Angel forgets your birthday and quickly comes up with an idea to make up for it.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x reader 

Warnings: A kiss? 

Word count: 913

A/N: This was super cute like I loved writing this 😩🥺 Cranked it out in like 30 minutes 

“It was my birthday today.”

“Today?”

Angel’s eyes were as big as the moon as he stared at you. You stared right back, legs crossed and your hands in your lap as you looked at him from your spot on the bed. It was nearly nine at night by the time he had gotten home, not a single Happy Birthday from him all day. You knew he had forgotten, but you figured that he would notice as soon as he saw you. Yet he hadn’t. He had walked in, kissed your forehead, said hello, and was now in the process of pulling off his kutte and kicking off his shoes so he could take a shower before bed. Now he stood there still as a statue, hands locked on the leather as he looked at you. You could see the wheels turning, trying desperately to remember the date.

“I can’t believe I forgot, baby. Fuck.”

He was letting go of his kutte then, coming to kneel beside you at the side of the bed. You didn’t look angry at him, only disappointed, and that hurt worse.

“I’m so sorry, mami. Today just got away from me. There was so much shit going on with the club, it didn’t even cross my mind.”

Angel apologized profusely before stopping suddenly and yanking his arm up to look at his watch.

“Let’s go get ice cream! They’re not closed yet. They don’t close until ten.”

You shook your head, motioning to yourself in the bed.

“It’s already late Angel, plus I’m not dressed. I’m already in bed.”

“That’s ok! You don’t even have to get dressed, I’ll get out an order for us! You can stay in the car.”

You were going to deny him again when he reached for your hands, holding them tightly in his as he pleaded with you, puppy eyes on full display.

“Come on, baby, please? Let me try to kinda make it up to you. I’ll really go all out tomorrow for you, I swear, but I’m gonna feel like shit if I let you go to sleep without doing anything for you. Please? Let me take you?”

You sighed, looking down at him as he stayed kneeling, even his bottom lip pushed out to convince you. You sighed and nodded, untucking your legs so you could stand.

“Fine.”

Angel stood quickly, a hopeful grin on his face as he looked at you. Holding his hand out, he rushed you.

“Put your shoes on so we don’t miss it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

You both took your car, Angel breaking more than a few road laws in his attempt to get there before ten. It paid off, your car pulling into the parking lot at ten minutes to ten, Angel quickly hopping out of the car to get you your ice cream.

“I’ll be back!”

You chuckled at the urgency in his voice and posture, the Mayan jogging up to the window of the large ice cream cone shaped building. You watched as he ordered, making far too many hand motions for someone who was just ordering ice cream and you couldn’t help but laugh. The girl at the window nodded and he held his hands together in thanks, his posture settling some as she turned and went to the back to get his order. Reaching for the radio, you scanned and went through the channels, trying to find something good.

Before long, Angel was back at the car and knocking on your passenger side window. Looking over you saw him standing there with the biggest banana split you had ever seen in your life. With your jaw slack, you lowered the window and took the bowl from him as he grinned.

“Like it? It’s called the triple deluxe split or some shit like that.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You shook your head as you looked at the monstrosity.

“Well get in here and help me eat it before it melts.”

Angel obliged and made his way around the front of the car before hoping into the driver’s side again. You turned in your seat, facing him slightly and he did the same, both of you reaching for the spoons they had dug into the scoops. You both started eating quickly, the music playing softly in the background as you stuffed yourselves. You were thankful for his quick thinking and ability to make you smile on such short notice, even if he did forget your birthday. You appreciated the effort, and you weren’t going to hold it against him. You were happy that if nothing else, at least you were going to be able to finish off the night with ice cream and your favorite person.

Angel ate another bite, and you watched a bit of the ice cream dripped onto his beard. Reaching for the napkin, you wiped the melted dessert off of his beard before leaning forward and licking the rest of it from his bottom lip. You finished with a soft kiss and a little nip to his pout before settling back in your seat, his eyes on you intently.

The look he gave you told you that you had just awoken a beast and sure enough after a few more seconds of staring at you, he was stabbing the spoon back into the ice cream before straightening himself out and putting on his seat belt.

“You better have that finished before we get home or it’s really gonna melt.”

General taglist @piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl​ @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon  @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @bisexual-space-slut @appropriate-writers-name @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog  @blowmymbackout​

Angel taglist @cardenasarmy

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes #Mayans MC #imagines #drabble #mayans fx #mayans imagine

[mystic-sky]

A/N: here’s Part 2/4💘 I told y’all I’m gonna finish this and I will. this short series is NSFW. Enjoy 😭❤️

✨part 1 here✨ | ✨parts 3 & 4 on ao3 only✨

Some would say this was entirely unnecessary, perhaps even a little too casual for work. But you know when you have one of those really good friends you’d do anything for? The kind you’d spend money on without a second thought? That’s how you felt about Suguru. You could call him whenever you wanted and he’d come fix up your car for you, help you lift things, or just lend you his ear. He was an extremely good listener, and he was always there for you. It was hard to believe such a sweet guy could be friends with Satoru. It was also hard to believe how you could ever favor Satoru more.

You were incredibly excited to give Suguru all the things you had gotten him over the weekend. Then, like a raining brick shower, did you remember that he came to your work place, with Satoru, and you anonymously gave him a lap dance. And now, you have to talk to both of them like you weren’t shaking your ass in their faces the night before. Tough.

You questioned all your life decisions as you anxiously dialed Shoko. You told her it was urgent and that you needed help with the gift bags, as well as time for girl talk and morning coffee before work. 

When she arrived you graciously hugged her, whining and crying her name as you reached over the arm rest. 

“You didn’t tell anyone where I worked at, right?” You say, tear stricken and panicked as you peer at her through wet eyes. She shot you an almost betrayed look. When did you start thinking she could be that menacing? 

“No- are you crying? Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” She pushed you away, staring worriedly with baggy under eyes.

“Suguru and Satoru showed up to my other job last night.” You shrieked, leaning against the wheel of your car and burrowing your head in your arms. 

“I did have a blindfold on but I don’t know if they knew it was me.” You say, muffling your embarrassment. 

Shoko could’ve laughed a bit, picking up her iced coffee. 

“You always did talk about giving Satoru the dance of his life to put his pitiful attitude in check.” She said, unpackaging the straw and stabbing the lid.

“Shoko!” 

“What? Your words not mine.” She said smugly. 

“I mean that’s how I felt but then he actually showed up! And then he gave my co worker his number to give to me! He definitely knows it’s me!”

“Why would he give it to you again on a piece of paper if he knew it was you?” Shoko quizzed. 

“To fuck with me, obviously.” You mutter, sinking into the drivers seat. “That’s Satoru shit.”

She swished her coffee around, further mixing her creamer. “That does sound like Satoru behavior.”

“Shoko!” You whined again. “How the heck am I supposed to face him? Not to mention, I got Suguru all this stuff and I was so excited to give it to him. You think he knows too? And what if he didn’t know but Satoru told him? Ugh- my head hurts.” You say, taking up your coffee and plunging the lid with your own straw. 

“How good was your blindfold?” She raises a brow at you.

“I looked like Harley Quinn’s knock off stripper sister.” Shoko let a laugh, earning a grunt from you.

“Okay okay, so they probably don’t know. But I would just suck it up and act like you don’t know anything either. Like an ‘I know that you know that I know’ kinda situation? But you’re not gonna do anything about it- kinda thing.”

“And you could always switch jobs if you’re that mortified. Poor Suguru, and his gifts though. It seems like Satoru ruins everything for him.” She sighed. 

Shoko had a way of pretending like things weren’t as bad as they were, and though sometimes it bothered you, talking to her helped you relax.

“I forgot to mention I gave Suguru a dance.” You sink more into your chair, covering your face.

“Oh then they definitely know.” She teased.

“Shoko!!!” You whined again.

“I’m kidding! There’s no guarantee that they know or don’t know.” Shoko said, placing her coffee down. “I would fake it until you can’t.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole. Couldn’t you just live a peaceful life?

“I have to move away and change my name, it’s the only way.” You cried. 

“Let me help you get the bags,” Shoko said, stepping out the car and ignoring you entirely.

“I was only messing with you, they don’t know a thing. I overheard the two of them inside talking about how nice the place was. They didn’t mention anything in particular while I was clocking in.”

You panicked anyway. Why would they?

“Now up and out, you can’t hide in your car forever.”

You sluggishly climbed out the vehicle and opened your trunk. 

“If it makes you feel better I’ll ask them about it for you.” Shoko helped you gather Suguru’s gifts and you went inside.

Just relax, (Name). Be cool, be cool. 

You were dazed, deep in thought as you and Shoko walked through the halls. You never regretted giving anyone a lap dance during your entire dancing career. You honestly don’t know what came over you. All you wanted was to make Satoru’s mouth water. It’s not like you didn’t already have his attention with his constant flirting at work but still, why did you have to be so gutsy?

You set the gifts down on your desk, before slumping into your office chair. 

“Good morning!” You heard the white haired devil chirp through the door way, knocking ever so lightly on the already opened door. Suguru trailed in quietly behind him, greeting you and Shoko.

“Morning!” Suguru hummed, taking a delicate sip from his coffee. 

You shyly waved, before Shoko spoke. “How was your night out?” 

Breaking the ice for us all Shoko, I thank the heavens and earth for your existence.

“It was great! Wish you guys could’ve been there. Fanciest club I’ve ever been to, like ever.” Satoru spoke, shoving his hands in his pocket. 

“It was cool. I still would’ve rather went to dinner with everyone.” Suguru shrugged, setting his coffee on his desk. You watched Satoru approach your table, quickly changing the subject of conversation. 

“What’s all this?” He quizzed, looking down at your sheepish body in your chair. Did they really not know? Or were they possibly pretending not to?

“T-These are gifts, for Suguru,” you stand, feeling a bit more confident. The dark haired male perked up at you, before walking towards your desk.

“I told you not to get me anything,” he sighed. You could see the soft smile edging on his lips as he looked down at you. “And then you spoil me like this? People are gonna think we’re dating, you know?” 

You swore you heard Satoru scoff.

“Hush, I told you it’s not a big deal. Besides, you’re always helping me out without asking. You deserve to be spoiled!” You say firmly, hands on your hips. He blushed a bit, realizing he wouldn’t be able to argue with you if he tried.

“You never spoil me this much on my birthday,” Satoru pouted, quickly inserting himself between the two of you, both verbally and physically.

“You’ve got to make your mark on people Satoru,” Shoko said, taking a seat behind her desk.

“I spoil all my friends as needed.” You say, crossing your arms proudly. “If you were a little nicer, maybe I wouldn’t think twice about buying you a bunch of nice things. Besides, your mistresses spoil you plenty.” 

“Mistresses? What mistresses? (Name) it hurts my feelings when you talk like that.” Satoru put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended.

“You have feelings?” Everyone but Satoru said this in unison, resulting the room to fill with heavy laughter. 

“Oooo so funny.” He said sarcastically, keeping the straightest face.

“If you’re good to me for the rest of the year I’ll get you something nice.” You say, soothing the wound you all gave him.

“But it’s not your birthday right now, is it?” You say, flipping your hair and shifting behind Suguru. You gave him a little push.

“Go head, open them!” You say excitedly. Suguru lets out a soft laugh, before digging into his bounty.

After watching him open his gifts while Satoru graciously recorded the entire moment for his Instagram, the white haired fiend sparked up an idea.

“So, since Suguru kept saying he wanted to do something with everyone I thought we could take a getaway trip this weekend to my folk’s place in the country side.”

“Just us 4?” Shoko asked. “And are you sure we won’t be bothering your parents?” 

“Oh no, this is their vacation house. They only go on the holidays. Also, Nanami is definitely coming!” Satoru cooed.

“That sounds like so much fun!” Shoko swooned.

“I haven’t seen Nanami in so long. This should be exciting.” You clasp your hands together delightedly.

“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t actually ask Nanami if he wanted to come yet...” Geto squinted at Satoru, who smiled childishly.

“Nanami loves me. He is coming by default.” He says proudly. “Speaking of, I have to go meet with him tomorrow to take care of some business. So unfortunately, I won’t be able to train with Megumi. (Name) do you think you could pick him up from school for me tomorrow?”

“The middle schooler you’ve been teaching? Why do I have to do it?” You ask, swaying your hips as you look at him.

“Because~” he sung.

“Because...?”

“He’s been talking about meeting you!” He gleamed.

“Has he really? Are you talking about me behind my back or something? How does the kid even know who I am?” 

“Of course! I’ve told him plenty stories about the all powerful (Name)! The mightiest jujutsu sorceress to date.” He was clearly just trying to flatter you.

“Fine, I’ll pick up the kid.” You roll your eyes.

“Yay~” He says, casually hugging you. He always did that, not that you actually minded. And you knew he knew it got to you every time, hearing him smirk as you push him off. You force back a blush as Suguru speaks.

“That didn’t take much convincing,” he smirks with him a bit.

“I just wanted him to stop talking.” You say, grabbing your purse. You could hear Shoko attempting to stifle a laugh behind you. 

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys later. I have a class to teach.”  You waved goodbye, on your way to cater to the class of second years you were currently responsible for.

You were finally able to relax, feeling like your dancer identity was safe. Now, all you have to do is forget the lap dance and pray to whatever God there is that neither of them would come back. You proceeded to take out your phone and text your club manager, asking for the weekend off. You were lucky she was so lenient. 

The work day lasted longer than you’d liked to, and you hadn’t stayed behind to chat with anyone. Shoko knew you were always keen on going home to shower and relax a bit before your shift at the club.

You were in the club locker room, just barely after 10pm. You wanted to ask Tasty for juicy details on Suguru. You were eager to know if he had texted her or had talked of coming back. Fortunately for you at the same time, she was off today. To you, this decreased the likelihood of seeing the dark haired male and his devilish best friend. That is, if he truly liked her enough to come back.

You were wearing a more revealing set this evening- a suede, pink two piece. You made sure your heel straps were tight enough around your ankles before walking out onto the floor to do your first 10 minute set of the evening. You spun on the pole, climbing gracefully. The higher you went, the more dollars being thrown. You slid down the pole, connecting your body to the floor with a split. You crawled lionlike towards the edge the stage, greeting some of your regulars who sat towards the front. Flipping your body, you get up smoothly ending the routine and collecting your bounty.

As you walked down the stage and made your way towards the bar, you could see the silhouette of a tall, white haired male, speaking to the bartender. His body was turned away from you, and he was ordering a drink as if he just got there. 

You knew it was him. You could recognize his cocky stance just about anywhere. You dropped to the floor, crawling away and earning stares from plenty of your coworkers and customers alike. Oh I’m definitely quitting, you thought.

You managed to crawl back towards the locker room. 

“This cannot become a routine,” you clutched your chest. It felt like you were having another mini heart attack like the night before. Did he just decide this was his new favorite spot? You could’ve sworn you were in the clear. And two days in a row?

He knows, he has to. Should you confront him? Twice was too many times. You almost can picture his smug face out there right now. You’re a bit angry that he had the nerve to come back again, but a portion of you, the little devil inside you- wanted him to watch you dance again.

Then you remembered Shoko’s words. Fake it until you can’t anymore. 

If he wanted to play, then you’d give him exactly what he wanted. You opened your locker, fiddling around through your costumes and head coverings. You took hold of the a pink masquerade mask you had left over from a theme night at the club a few weeks ago. 

“This should do.” You say, sliding on the seductive looking mask and fixing your hair in the the mirror.  You struck a pose, before flipping your hair in satisfaction and strutting out of the room. You walked past a few regulars, and made yourself comfortable by the bar area. You decided you’d dance around everyone but him. 

Satoru took note of your scent first, realizing your feminine force was behind him. He sipped his drink before spinning in his barstool to look at you dancing amongst the other customers. He adjusted his sunglasses, taking in the sight of you.

The set you wore was more revealing than the one from yesterday. He felt like he truly missed out the night before as he watched you drag your hand down the chest of a stranger, feeling a bit envious. His length felt tight in his jeans yet again. But he was a smooth guy, he knew exactly how to make you come to him. 

You noticed him get up from the bar, walking away from where you danced. You couldn’t help but get distracted and anxious. You didn’t want Satoru anywhere you couldn’t see him. You almost jumped when your club’s bouncer, Ravi, approached you in the middle of your mini lap dance. 

“Candy, the tall guy,” he tried not to point, “the white haired one with dark glasses wants a private dance.” Satoru approached the bouncer earlier when he first came in, pre-requesting a dance from you and tipping him a hefty amount for it. Though he’d explained he’d be fine if you declined it, he truly just wanted to see just how far he could get.

You stared at the thick wad of cash that stuck out of the pocket of Ravi’s dress shirt. You knew Satoru had the guts to ask you directly, but it was more so that he was that much of an asshole, who simply wanted you to approach him on your own.

Ravi then pointed loosely with his chin at Satoru, who had been sitting on the sofa on the other side of the club now.

You nodded, assuring Ravi you weren’t going to keep him waiting. You walked slowly towards him, he barely made eye contact with you. 

Fake it until you can’t.

“Hey handsome,” you lean over the railing, displaying your breasts right beside him. He perked up a bit, though he briefly watched you walk towards him beforehand. He sparks a grin, and you can see blue orbs peering ever so slightly over the edges of his glasses. 

“Hey,” he confidently sits back, not even shy about looking at your breasts.

“Have you been here before?” A classic conversation starter, but were you were  attempting to poke fun at the awkward situation. 

“Ahh, yes! Ms. Number One, from the private dancer line up. I was here yesterday with my friend.” He took a sip from his glass. “But I don’t expect you to remember. You’re a very busy, and talented woman.” 

You bite back a blush, “Thank you.” 

“A little birdie told me you wanted a private dance,” you maneuvered around the railing but still leaned against it. 

“Oh yeah,” he preferred not to waste time. He pulled a thick and wrapped stack of cash from his shirt and placed it on the table in front of you. You tried your best to keep your eyes from widening. The currency strap read $5000. 

“A private dance in the private booth costs a hundred.” You felt inclined to remind him as the both the stack and him stared back at you. “And if you wanted the highest package it’s $500 with champagne and refreshments included for the hour, typically for a group.”

“It says that on your website,” he nods, clearly already knowing the information. You almost squint at him before he speaks again.

“Also, I figured I’d pay you enough to go home for the night if you felt like it.” He shrugged. The Gojo family clearly had it well for him to just toss five thousand dollars at a stranger. You shivered when you remembered counting your earnings from the night before, two thirds of the pile being from Satoru. 

A part of you felt like ripping your mask off and asking him to go home. Your awkward silence made him stifle a laugh.

“Candy, baby girl, is somethin’ wrong?”

You knew he knew you were blushing, even with your mask. But you promised yourself one thing after leaving the locker room- you would bring him to his knees. And if  he wanted to play, you’d be sure to win.

“Alright hot stuff, come with me.” You used a finger to slide the stack towards you before picking it up. 

He grinned at you before you brought him to one of the private rooms. Everything was preset up considering Ravi saw you warming him up prior.

Satoru made himself comfortable in the soft velvet cushions and red lighting. You sat beside him, taking hold of one of the champagne bottles from the ice bucket. You popped it open, causing some of the foam to splatter onto your breasts and stomach.

“Whoops,” you said playfully. You always liked to tease with the exclusive dances. He bites his lip while he watches you fill both of your glasses, taking up one soon after.

“Do you guys have candy here?”

“Only mints by the bar. Did you want something sweet?” That’s so like him, you thought.

“Nah, mints don’t count.” He shook his head. “Chocolate anything?”

“We have chocolate-covered strawberries,” you suggest.

“That’ll do,” he clutches one of the heart shaped pillows, flashing smile.

You rung the bell on the wall, speaking into the microphone beside it to make the request before plopping beside him.

“You’ve got me for the hour,” you leant towards him, crossing your legs. “So let’s make it count.”

“I was hoping we could talk for a bit first,” he said, swishing the liquid in his glass. You almost panicked, but quickly spoke up.

“Sure, whatever you want.” You lean your arm on edge of the couch. It wasn’t uncommon for guys to request dances from you just for you to listen to their qualms for the hour. Although, you never pictured Satoru as the type to do so. Actually scratch that— you settled into the sofa, preparing to hear him ramble on about himself. You made sure to keep eye contact with him, making it known you were indeed listening.

“I got a thing for this girl— she’s amazing. She hates me though. Granted, I’ve been an asshole since high school. I think she’s into my best friend, although he promises me it’s nothing like that.”

“Have you tried flirting with her?” Satoru was infamous for being a casual, serial dater. You wondered who she could be. Just because you were in his inner circle didn’t necessarily mean this girl was you or anyone you might’ve known. But you couldn’t help but put yourself into perspective anyway. 

“Yeah, but she’s pretty mean though.” He grinned, “To me.”

“And that makes you happy?” You questioned.

“I mean, obviously it doesn’t.” He clarified, realizing just how crazy he looked in that moment. “Oddly enough, I’d like to think she likes me back a bit.”

“Sounds kiddish right?” He chuckles. “Like is she a middle schooler or something? She’s been playing hard to get for a while now.” 

You twitch your eye a bit, was he really that full of himself? 

“She probably doesn’t like you. You shouldn’t try to read between the lines. Have you ever asked her directly if she does?” You reason, trying to humble him a bit.

“Nah, I guess I’m just afraid to ask her the right way.” He cocked his head back, earning a confused look from you. You never knew Satoru could be afraid of anything. He was seemingly a fearless person and he was the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer to date.

“Could you elaborate?” You poked.

“She’s the only woman whose ever rejected me. Can you believe that?”

You’re partially amused, these truly were the thoughts in his head— you were sure of it.

“What I mean mostly is that I think she’s an idiot,” he chuckled. You almost broke into laughter.

“For rejecting you?” 

“No, no, no— well, maybe. I think she’s incredibly dense. I’ve known her for like 10 years. That or she just tunes out my advances.” He scoffs. 

“Everyone else knows it’s obvious I still like her. I think the reason why I’m never direct with my feelings, or the reason I boil it down to casual flirting is because I’m scared of her rejecting me again.” 

“The first time was when we were both seniors in high school. She told me to try again after I learned some ‘compassion’. It feels like she’s somewhat interested in me. And I hardly think I need to learn anything— but it’s been years since she said that.” He adds.

He hadn’t looked at you the entire time, sort of ogling at his drink before setting it down. 

He was unraveling in front of you, as a complete stranger.

“You get this a lot— the sappy talks, right?”

You nodded, “It’s no big deal.”

“I promise I’m not like this all the time.”

A clearer look inside Satoru’s mind was interesting, to say the least. You don’t think he acted this way on purpose. Perhaps, nothing has pushed him into such a corner for him to begin actively taking people’s feelings into account the way the average person might.

He huffed. “What would you do?”

You pondered for a bit, what would you do? You weren’t sure who the mystery woman he described was but you felt a little jealous, trying to wrap your head around the idea of him being this smitten over someone. He had given you a taste of himself, something he dared not to show you when you weren’t wearing the mask.

“Be direct next time you approach her. Stop playing around so much and tell her how you really feel. Nothing too grand, and try your best to understand her if she rejects you again. You’re a handsome guy, so it won’t be the end of the world if she does.” You explain.

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive by saying that last part either.” You added. Though his head was cocked back, his gaze shifted towards you. He hardly looked worried or sad at all. He shot you a toothy smirk, making you squirm in your seat a bit.

“I know that,” he finally says. There he was again, being his typical arrogant self. “If it doesn’t work out, you’ll see me back here again.”

Dear God, Satoru becoming one of your regulars? You didn’t know if you could handle that. You could just work in a different club. Lord, let this mystery woman scoop him up, and make your life easier. 

The thought of him coming regularly just to see you made you happy sort of, but you found yourself getting jealous for the days you wouldn’t work. Suddenly, you didn’t want anyone else dancing for him. It had to be you.

“Woah, you okay?” He tilted his head towards you. You held your cheeks in your hand. If you were a kettle, you’d physically be steaming.

“You’ve got a cute side, Ms. Candy. That’s precious.” He leant forward, glasses sliding down his nose a bit. No matter how long you’ve known him, he would still give you butterflies just like when you were younger.

The server entered the room, placing the strawberries that he ordered onto the table. You watched him take off his shades and hang them on his shirt.

“Fuck yes,” he grinned, picking up one of the chocolate covered fruits. You watched him take a bite, tugging on your own bottom lip. He slid his tongue between two fingers, blue orbs just barely glinting at you. He hummed in delight as you awed at him. Really, everything about him was perfect aside from his flawed personality. You would’ve been dating him already if you felt he’d be a good boyfriend. He was obviously and unfairly attractive. You were positive the sex would be good too, considering you heard more than satisfactory things. He was tall, and wealthy, and strong and talented. He was just a shitty person sometimes. 

Somehow you liked him all this time, he’s been the only man whose kept your interest. That’s partially because he was persistent, in the most attractive and appealing way. But you’re adults now, maybe you should stop playing around so much. 

Did you even have time to change your mind with this mystery girl in the way?

“I think I’m ready for my dance now,” he said smugly, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“Of course baby. Just sit back and relax.” You had to remind yourself, you’re Candy right now, and not (Name). 

He sunk back into the sofa, spreading his legs as you got up and positioned yourself in front of him. He spreads his long arms on the head of the sofa, slight smile leaking at the corners of his lips. 

You swayed your body, giving him a show. It was finally happening. You were giving him the very thing you fantasized about since you started dancing. You climbed onto his lap, grinding against him as the music played in tandem with your hips. He seemed elated, and not even remotely ashamed of the growing bulge in his jeans. You were feeling antsy, watching him with his arms sprawled out like that.

“I don’t normally let people touch me during my dances, but you can if you want.” You weren’t supposed to sound so shy when you said it. 

“You’re being extremely generous, I’ll tip you again, for sure baby.”

You felt his large, hot hands connect with your back, running down the smooth skin. You smiled smugly, looking down at him. You grinded against him some more, feeling his bulge confidently poke against your sex.

All you ever wanted was for him to touch you like this. You were mad at yourself for holding out this long— why did his hands feel so good against your bare skin?

Possibly just because you liked him, and that amplified the experience. 

Lost in the moment, you felt your hands run through the smooth fade of his undercut while you humped his lap. The amount of stimulation this gave the both of you was astounding. You heard a soft groan leave his lips, rising color out of your cheeks. 

You brought a finger to the string of your outfits top, pulling it undone and gracing him with the sight of your breasts as you tossed the fabric on the sofa. He was sort of surprised, but his facial expression was nothing short of cocky. It wasn’t the first time a stranger stripped top-less for him, and coincidentally, making panties drop was his hobby.

“Oh~?” 

His voice was terrifically deep, you never knew he could drop an octave this low. You’d usually be talking up a storm, doting on your customers with compliments and saying appropriately reassuring things. The entire experience was weird, having your childhood crush grope you and nuzzle his face into your breasts hadn’t been on your to do list for the evening.

He hummed against the skin in the center of your chest, sending vibrations up your spine.

“I know I’m pushing it, considering this is nothing but a service agreement, but I’d be happy to make you feel good— if you want me to, that is.” 

You looked down at him, knowing the mask you wore couldn’t save you from him noticing the blushing look on your face. 

“Just what do you take me for?” You’re being playful about it, wrapping your arms around his neck so he knows you’re not offended. 

“A hard working woman. I envy the man who gets to spoil you.” 

You couldn’t think of a response, and you assumed he caught on due to the way your lips parted and no sound emerged. 

“Ohh-hoh??? There isn’t one, is there?”

He stole the show from you, and now you’re sitting in his lap like some sort of blushing sheep. 

“That makes me feel sort of special,” he purred, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a dainty moan, grinding harder against him. You were no longer grinding along with the music, just finding a rhythm that would satisfy the both of you. He grunted at your sudden change in pace, his searing hot breath against your skin.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, nipple between his teeth.

“What about the girl you like?” You found yourself regretting even saying that, considering you were supposed to be a neutral party.

“You jealous?” 

You suck in your bottom lip, barely forming a pout. He truly was an asshole to everyone. It didn’t even matter if someone was on top of him. Before you’re able to say anything, he speaks again.

“Don’t be.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the center of your chest, heightening the crimson hues on your cheeks. His soft lips unfortunately tore from your body when his phone rang. He slipped the thing from his jacket pocket, answering the call. 

“Alright, I’ll be there in 30.” He said finally after following subsequent huffs. He ended the call, looking back up at you with apologetic eyes.

“I’ve gotta cut this short,” he was pained to say it. He was having too much fun. 

“That’s alright.” You say, sliding your leg off him and finding your top.

He stood, straightening his clothes whilst muttering what you barely made out as ‘fuckin’ Nanami’ through his teeth. You almost laughed, as you tied your top back on.

“Candy, baby, I’m sorry. Guess I’ll have to come back again.” He looked too happy to say it.

“Before your confession?” You say smugly. “Or after?”

“No no, I’m a man of my word. I’ll come back only under those conditions I mentioned.” He says.

“I wish you the best of luck.” You say, crossing your legs.

“You’re rooting for me? You really don’t wanna see me again.” He chuckled as he towered over you, his blue gaze now covered by his glasses again.

“I’m always rooting for my customers.” You smile slyly.

His grin softened, and you wish you knew why he was looking at you like that.

“See you around, Ms. Candy.”

He waved goodbye as he exited the room, finally allowing you a some relief. Hopefully this chick doesn’t reject him, you thought.

Even though he probably wouldn’t come back, you thought about quitting and working elsewhere anyway. You tore off your mask, pushing your hair back out of your face.

You really didn’t want to have to wear one of these again.

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk gojo #lil bit if suguru in here #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru #getou fluff #jjk x reader

[dadsbongos]

You'll Dig a Grave with Me

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Dabi/Reader Warnings: cemetery/grave desecration (like digging-up-a-coffin-and-opening-it bad), violence/murder/gore, corpses/corpse-handling, smoking(?) idk it’s kinda small potatoes compared to what i just mentioned Summary: Maybe you need a new boyfriend. One who doesn't make you help him bury dead bodies. Word Count: 1.2K ~~~

“Get in the fucking car.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Look at this face,” Dabi only stops to turn and briefly gesture to his scarred features, “Do these look like smilin’ muscles?”

you relent, as you usually do, and grumble all the way to your shoes and throughout the process of pulling on said shoes, “Get me up at two in the morning and doesn’t even tell me where we’re going - sounds like Touya.”

“Dabi.”

“Dickhead. They’re all the same.”

“You’re funny,” Dabi rolls his eyes as he holds the door open for you, “you ever think about becoming a comedian?”

“Yeah, actually,” shaking your head, you climb into the driver’s seat, “When I’m not being a chauffeur, I’ll totally go out and tell a shitload of jokes about how my boyfriend’s a nationally wanted villain. It’ll be great.”

“I get it, you’re sarcastic. Go to the cemetery down the road from here.”

“Jesus, man, who’d you kill?”

Silence settled in the car, neither party caring enough to clarify whether that was a joke or not. Because with Dabi - it didn’t matter. If he wasn’t joking, it wasn’t anyone's business. Unless anyone was you. Then you were part of the clean up crew.

“That lot?”

Dabi nods and goes to the back of the car to pull out a duffel bag and the shovels buried at the bottom. He follows after you as you approach the body he’d haphazardly left at the end of a row of graves. He should know better than to get sloppy, but knowing Dabi was knowing that he enjoyed the thought of police already swarming the lot when they arrived. He liked the thrill. He liked the opportunity to serve his flames a kindling.

Handing over a shovel, Dabi nods at the lot, “When we hit the coffin, we pry it open and toss this fucker in.”

“It’s new, will anyone visit?”

“Past visiting hours.”

“You, of all people, should know that some people don’t listen to laws.”

“If anyone comes, I’ll kill them, there? Happy?” Dabi shakes his head, lodging the edge of his shovel into the dirt and pulling up the fresh earth.

Another quiet settles over the couple as they pull up the soil covering the rotting dead. You wipe at sweat forming over your brow and jam your shovel into a spot near your foot, walking towards the other corpse as Dabi maneuvers his own shovel to pop open the baby blue coffin of a person who didn’t deserve this perversion of their memory.

Upon closer inspection, you notice how the man’s head and hands are charred beyond recognition of flesh, and his mouth has fallen open into a horrified, toothless scream. Usually, just torching the people he murdered would do all that his manual labor had. This man was different. This man must’ve wronged Dabi closely.

Grabbing underneath the dead man’s armpits, you begin dragging him towards the grave as the telltale creak of a coffin opening rings through the cemetery. Dabi puts a hand up and the man is dropped carelessly outside the rectangular pit - bending down, Dabi pats down the man’s blazer and tugs out a wallet and keys before pocketing both.

“What’d he do to avoid being completely scorched?”

“Just wanted this one to be more personal; some low-level at the old man’s agency,” Dabi picks himself back up to a full stand and kicks the man into the open coffin and nudges his body just enough to ensure no limbs are poking out before going to shut the coffin.

“Maybe you should’ve picked an older spot, huh?” you mumble, crossing towards your boyfriend and plucking a pack of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket and picking one out, “Two bodies don’t fit in one coffin comfortably. And I don’t think either of us is going down there to fish him out.”

“Fuck,” the villain hisses, picking up his shovel only to stab it back down in anger, piercing mother nature in retaliation for an event which she had no control over, “Whatever. Just put the dirt back over them. If they find him, who cares?”

“Probably us when they find him and start asking questions,” placing the cigarette between your lips, you lean over towards Dabi, “Light?”

He ignites a single finger and watches the cigarettes' illumination of cherry and ash before turning back to the grave and murmuring, “Slacker.”

“When I start killing people and making you bury the bodies, then you can call me a slacker,” you sit down on a patch of grass where the dead man once laid, cold and clammy and soulless, “Until then, I’m taking a smoke break.”

You never saw yourself helping the little red-turned-white haired boy you grew up with bury a body he’d murdered in cold blood. You saw yourself having a future with him, in the way children typically grow attached to friends quickly - but actively helping him get away with and hiding evidence of his crimes?

It was wrong. You weren’t an idiot. What you - both of you - were doing was horrid and it would catch up to them eventually.

But Dabi would burn down the world for you and you’d be lying if you said watching it go down in flames after all the pain and misery and hatred it’s churned out wouldn’t be satisfying. All the monsters like Enji could burn and you’d both dance in the flickering light of the flames. All the elitism and fakeness of heroes would crumble and you’d toss the ashes around like rice at a wedding. You’d kiss on the grave of society and giggle over the wreckage you caused together. Because loving Dabi was accepting the chaos he chased. It was changing the ending of the monster and helping him kill Frankenstein.

It was helping him get away with his crimes and cleaning up his corroding body in the wee hours of nightfall.

Dabi huffs in exertion while burying the sins he’d committed only hours prior, he knows he isn’t built for heavy physical labor and he knows that’s exactly why he brought you. He also knows how easy it would be to scare you into crushing that cigarette out right now and coming to his side - but he can’t bring himself to.

The only home he’s ever known and the only person he’s never had to prove himself to, he can’t lose. So he continues to pile dirt atop the bodies while you finish your smoke without whining.

“Got schmutz on your forehead there, darling,” you mumble upon your return, bringing up a thumb to wipe at the dirt staining your lover’s skin.

“You’re not much better,” Dabi nods at your forehead, “Gotta take a bath when we get home.”

“Then will you chill the fuck out and come sleep?”

He merely nods again as you pick up your shovel and catch dirt onto the blade before tossing it down into the filling pit.

No, you never imagined yourself up at three in the morning helping Touya Todoroki hide a body he’d murdered - but there you were. Rewriting the end of a monster and helping him kill Frankenstein, slowly - but surely. Frankenstein and the society that enabled him would die by Dabi’s hand, and you were going to be holding the other hand the entire time.

Because loving Touya was loving Dabi.

#dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya x y/n #touya x reader #bnha x reader

[kaz11283]

Of Course I'm Here

Characters: Come on you know by now how this goes (Loki x you) (Team x you, platonic)

Warnings: None. And really if you ever see anything that I might need to able as a warning please let me know... I'm the person who forgets there are people out there that get offened by the word F*** if that is an exapmle of anything.

Summary: Mid battle and the avengers keep looking for an answer as to why the God of Lies hasnt showed up yet. Of course you have no idea but at least he proves them all wrong.

ANNOUNCEMENT TIME: hey guys Im back, I know it hasnt been long but I also know I havent been posting every single day like I was, i got into a weird little funk where I didnt want to do anything, I was just feeling completly drained, and I felt bad because I have my little and I didnt even want to play with her because I have just been so TIRED, but I'm feeling better. Work has been kicking my ass here lately and ive been working over 50 hours a week so ive literally been coming in, eatting / feeding the little, getting us ready for bed, and crashing as soon as she falls asleep. But im here now. I will probably be more active on weekends than during the week because I have more time to spend working on stuff but I will be posting also during the week just not daily. At least until after state comes. Thank you so much for the reblogs, likes, comments, follows, and messages please keep them coming! If you would like to be tagged please ask or message, and requests are open. Love you guys so much! 💚💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~

"Y/N, BACK UP I NEED BACK UP! EYES IN THE SKY!" Tony yelled from above, you and Clint stood back to back on a roof top shooting as many bad guys as you could. Clint took aim at another carrier, shooting at the engine causing the entire thing to blow up raining debris and hot metal around you.

"Damnit Clint! Farther away make sure they are farther away!" You yelled popping him on the head with an arrow before aiming it at the thing that was chasing Tony.

"Where is lover boy at? You.sent him the location right?" Nat asked into the com.

"Yes I sent him the location, no I dont know where hes at." You mocked.

"Did you send him the right location?" Sam asked.

"One time, one dam-"

"Language!" Steve chimed in causing everyone to groan. Gun shots where ringing all around you and you could here metal on metal paired with Hulk screams coming from another building over.

"Language." You mocked muting your com son that no one but Clint heard you. "I am a 26 year old woman, I think I'm old enough to cuss if I want." You drew back your bow and sent another arrow flying into another goon that had Nat trapped aginst a wall. She shot you a thumbs up before running off. You hit unmute on your com.

"Jesus, 26? Baby, you sure you don't need to be at a babysitter instead of on a building killing things?" He laughed.

"Dont worry Hawk, when we get done here I've already booked you a nice nursing home to be put into." You put your bow around you and stood on the edge of the building. "I need a better view." You looked round, the top of a taller building caught you eye. "There Hawk, we can cover a better radius from up there, get closer to the action."

"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHEN THE GODS ARE GOING TO BE HERE? WE NEED MORE HELP WERE GETTING TIRED AND OUT NUMBERED!" Tony came over the coms screaming.

"How do we get up there? Or do I even wanna know?" Hawk came to examin where you were talking about.

"Im jumping, you cant tell me that someone wont catch me." You shrug.

"GODS WHERE ARE TH- Y/N DONT YOU DARE JUMP!" Tony stopped and hovered right were you was standing.

"Then take us over there. We need higher ground, we cant cover everyone from down here." You crossed your arms.

"Where are the gods at y/n?" He asked again

"I. Dont. Know. Jesus you guys act like I'm suppose to be there keeper!" A simultaneous you are came from everone through the com causing you to roll your eyes. "Hes gonna be here I swear it! Now take me to the building or I jump. 1.....2....-" Tony grabbed you by the collar of your jacket and flew you to the building.

God these things were everywhere and you were starting to run out of arrows. After shooting another ship and causing it to blow you heard what was unmistakably pounding on the roof top door leading to where you currently was at.

"I have some univited guests about to join my party. Anyone available for some assistance?" You yanked out the two emerald green and silver daggars that your boyfriend had given you not long after you had started dating after throwing your bow around you.

"Buy some time kid, I'm on ground level right now but I can try to get up there as fast as possible." Bucky called over the com.

"Buy some time? Ok. I can do this. I work better from afar but a little hand to hand never hurt anyone, just easier to get stabbed this way." The first of the things busted through the door running straight at you. You jerked out of the way missing his staff by just a few inches. Quickly turning you flipped the dagger like Loki had showed you and stabbed him in his side causing him to fall to the ground before the next one tried to impale you.

"I have two daggers and they have freaking staffs! Back up! WHERE THE HELL AR-" you were interupted by static in the air and a bright light. The bitfrost had just opened up leaving to gods standing in front of you and taking out the remainder ofnthe bad guys. "HES HERE! I TOLD YOU GUYS THEY WERE COMING AND THEY'RE HERE." You pulled two extra coms from you pocket and gave them to Thor and Loki.

"Always a pleasure to battle beside you Lady y/n." Thor smiled takkng the com and putting it in his ear before taking off again.

Loki sauntered over to you and put his arm around you waist, you put the com in his ear as he rolled his eyes. He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss.

"You got a new outfit." You smiled at him. God the way he looked in his battle clothe always did something to you, the horned helment was a plus.

"You like it." He smirked down at you pulling you closer.

"Your wearing your horns to." You reached up and brushed a peice if hair behind his ear.

"STOP. STOP NOW. WE CAN HEAR EVERYTHING AND ITS GROSS." Tony yelled causing you both to roll your eyes.

"Quick run down, bad guys everywhere, no end in sight, and I'm out of arrows pretty sure Hawk is too." Loki waved his hand over your quiver making more arrows appear.

"I see you had to use your daggers. I am sorry for not being here. Are you hurt anywhere?" He asked stepping away from you to examin you.

"Small cut on the side, nothing I havent dealt with before, Ill be fine. You go make sure Hawk is fully stocked up and help the others. I got a birds eye view of you right here." I leaned in kissing him one more time before smiling at him and pushing him away. He kissed his two finger before placimg them over his heart and you did the same, "always." You both said before he disappered.

You could hear Thor laughing at the chaos going on and Steve trying to direct the god of thunder on what to do. You had learned earlier to just let him do his own thing and he would be fine. Tony was still trying to micromanage everything when you heard Loki mumble something in an old language and his com cut out. You had figured it wouldnt have stayed on to long though but at least you had tried. It had calmed down up on your end so you decided to finally go back down to where Clint was at shooting an arrow with heavy duty rope you glided back down next to him to watch what was going on.

"Hello, earth to y/n." He snapped his fingers in front of your face. You had been to busy staring at Loki and that damn helmet. "I dont even understand why were friends." He rolled his eyes propping up on the ledge watching as the rest of the team secured the last of the bad guys.

"Because we both shoot arrows, because we are both the best in the team, or because we both know we are the best looking one on the team so we have to stick together." You laughed jumping up so you could sit on the ledge.

"The birds can come out of their nest now." Bucky called over the coms causing you both to sigh.

When you and Clint had reached the bottom you walked over to Thor theowing your arms around the big goof ball.

"You are amazing during battle as always." He beemed patting you on the shoulder.

"As always? Thor youve only fought with her twice." Steve said beside you.

"I had a week off. Went to Asguard, spent time with the boys. Someone had to keep them in line." You shrugged like it was no big deal.

"She was amazing!" Thor went on telling the story of the fight you had all gotten into.

"Mothers been asking about you by the way dear. Wants to know if you've decided to come stay for a while." Loki leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I think I'm leaning toward a yes. I can't stand being away from you, you had been gone forever this time." You reached for his hand as you both walked to the quinjet.

"I was making arrangements to have our room redone. I figured you would come with me." He gave you a knowing smirk as he reached up to take off his helmet.

"Leave the horns on. I have a suprise for you when we get home." You pulled his hand away from his head and smacked his butt.

"You are a little minx." He laughed chasing you into the jet while the rest of the team groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Even if you wasnt moving i would be kicking your ass out! I am so sick of the PDA between you two." Tony hollared after you.

"Leave them alone Tony, they are courting. Im just glad my brother is happy and not trying to stab me." Thor clapped Tony on the back.

~~~~~

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