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strawbeerossi · 4 months

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Stuffing Stockings

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.

Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5K

Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!

“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on.

“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face.

You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made.

You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list.

“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!”

Penelope and Luke. Classic.

“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling.

“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!”

The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”

After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick.

Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book.

It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly.

“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part.

“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you.

“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look.

“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family.

“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.”

Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely.

“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good.

“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back.

“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around.

You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car.

After dinner and baths were in order, it wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?”

You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return.

The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes.

“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs.

“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head.

“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started.

Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking.

“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him.

“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one.

There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his.

While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now.

Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot.

“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you.

You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan.

“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return.

The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride.

It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good.

The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage.

You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well.

With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth.

His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.”

“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.

With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.”

The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”

—--

It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.

You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.

The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.

Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.

Pregnant.

You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!

You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible.

Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to.

You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!

“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.

“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow.

Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”

“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.

As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!”

Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso.

“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer

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beybaldes · 10 months

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it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know

Roy Kent × Fem!Reader

word count : 15.1k a fucking whopper I started writing and couldn’t stop this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written in my life

summary : the 5 times Phoebe got dropped off at your house and the 5 times Roy realised he was in love with you.

content warning : tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent family line, a little angst if you squint really really hard, allusions to smut towards the end but non actually written, me calling Roy’s sister Molly but I can’t remember where I first saw it, no use of yn.

masterlist

a/n : if you want to see a spin off based on any part of this please dot because writing this has broke my writers block!!!! I’d love to write some more Roy <33

1. the first time

It had taken Roy about 15 seconds to decide he was going to drop Phoebe off with you.

When Molly had shown up on his doorstep at 5am, with an asleep Phoebe in her arms, citing she'd been called in for a surgery, he mentally rearranged his whole day to accommodate for his favourite girl. It wasn't until lunchtime rolled around that he remembered an important meeting with Ted and Beard that he, unfortunately, couldn't get out of. So, while brainstorming who on earth he could leave Phoebe with, his mind quickly settled on you.

You were sensible and probably good with kids considering he could remember a couple of mentions of a niece of your own, and he knew - given it was the weekend - that you'd probably be free to look after her. And, not to Roy's surprise, you'd quickly said yes when he called to ask if that was okay.

While it had only been 20 minutes since Roy called, he was already at your doorstep, Phoebe's hand held tightly in his as they waited for you to answer the door.

"Is she pretty?" Phoebe asked, eyes unmoving from the unfamiliar front door as she spoke to her uncle Roy.

Roy scoffed at the question, unsure where it had come from and why his niece couldn't have asked this in the car. If she'd asked in the car he would've given an enthusiastic yes, a smile creeping on his lips as he thought about you, and how you always looked pretty - even if you were in a Richmond pullover and sulking in your office - especially then, actually. "Why does it matter?"

Before Phoebe could answer him, your front door swung open, you behind it with a wide smile. No sooner then it had opened, you'd crouched down to Phoebe's level, giving her a small wave and a bright smile. "Hi Phoebe! I hope you don't mind that you've got to spend the day with me instead of your uncle Roy."

"I don't mind at all," Phoebe shrugged, the straps of her backpack moving greatly with the movement of her much smaller shoulders. "I see my uncle roy all the time."

The laugh that bubbled past your lips made Roy's heart skip a beat, and for a moment he forgot why he was even standing on your doorstep.

As you stood up straight, you gently took Phoebes hand in your own, pulling her closer to you and your home and giving Roy the opportunity to head off for his meeting. "We should let your uncle Roy get going then, shouldn't we?"

"Thanks again for doing this, I owe you one." Maybe I could take you to dinner as thanks? Roy wanted to add, but wasn't brave enough to do so. If he wasn't so head over heels for you, maybe it's be easier to do something about it.

"Don't worry about it," you brushed him off, gently pushing him off of your doorstep and back in the direction of his car, knowing he had places to be. "I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."

"Bye uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, giving him one last wave before running into your house, you quickly following after her to make sure she didn't injure herself exploring the new territory.

Thankfully, she made a b-line for your couch, climbing onto it and emptying the contents of her backpack out on the seat next to her. She pulled a colouring book into her lap and grabbed a fist full of pens, quickly pulling off the caps of her favourite colours and getting to work on her masterpiece.

"Have you had any lunch yet, Phoebe?"

"No, uncle Roy was about to make me lunch when he called you."

While you knew Roy was rushing to his meeting, you didn't realise he'd seemed to forget about it completely.

Phoebes lack of lunch had you searching through all your cupboards for something suitable to feed a 7 year old, and when you couldn't find anything you'd have wanted to eat at 7, your turned to her with a smile. "How do you feel about a trip to Tesco? You can pick out whatever you want for lunch?"

"Perfect!" Phoebe cheered, pushing her pens to the side as quickly as she'd picked them up, running back to your front door to put her shoes and coat on. As soon as she was dressed, you opened up the front door, grabbing your car keys from the dish by the door and directing her in the direction of your car as she ran ahead of you in her excitement.

"Phoebe, you don't need a booster seat do you?" While you had your own niece, she was still young enough to be in a carrier everywhere she went, so you weren't entirely sure what the protocol was for 7 year olds.

"I don't have one in my uncle Roy's car." That was good enough for you.

Phoebe spent the whole car ride to the shops chatting your ear off, bringing you up to speed on everything that was happening at school and football and how many times she'd been red carded this season alone. In many ways, she was like a miniature version of Roy, so it was easy to love being in her presence.

As you arrived at Tesco, you made Phoebe promise she'd stay close to you at all times, not wanting to lose her as soon as Roy had entrusted her in to your care - that wouldn't be good for anyone involved. Phoebe was quick to pull you by the hand in the direction of the frozen aisle, clearly set on something in particular for her lunch.

She broke free from your hold as you reached the end of the aisle, heading straight in the direction of the frozen chicken nuggets and pulling as hard as she could to open the door. Once she'd managed to pry the door open, she climbed inside of the freezer, attempting to reach one of the higher up shelves in search of what she wanted.

"Phoebe, sweetheart, let me help you." As you stood behind Phoebe, you put your hands under her arms, picking her up and bringing her to your height so that she could grab whatever she'd been looking for. "Turkey Dinosaurs? Good choice."

"The only correct choice, bruv." Isaac was right behind you, Colin on his left and Will on his right.

"Oh, boys, hi!" Phoebe leaned in closer towards you as the sudden appearance of the three men. While she'd exhumed confidence from the moment you'd met her a few hours ago, she seemed to shy away slightly at the sight of the three footballers. "What're you doing here?"

"Day off, innit." Isaac, never a man of many words, was quick to answer your question, though had one waiting for you in return. "Who's this?"

Phoebe's grip around your neck increased slightly again as Isaac pointed directly at her. You shifted her in your arms so that she'd face the three a bit better, knowing non of them posed any threat to her. "This is Phoebe. Phoebe this is Colin, Isaac and Will; say hi."

Now that she'd been introduced to them, a wide smile curled onto Phoebes face, her toothy grin making an appearance that had Colin and Isaac smiling right back.

"I didn't know you were a mum." Will spluttered out, staring at you and Phoebe with a rather surprised look on his face.

"Oh, I'm not," you were quick to reassure, though immediately regretted it as you had no clue how to explain how this child they'd never seen before had come into your care. You knew Roy well enough to know he loved his privacy more then anything, so you decided the best course of action was to keep it. "She's my niece."

"Cool." Isaac nodded, prompting the others to nod on silent acceptance of the knowledge they'd just gained. "Can you pass me a bag of the turkey dinosaurs, Phoebe?"

As soon as Isaac got his bag of turkey dinosaurs, he, Colin and Will were quick to leave, waving a goodbye to the two of you and getting on with the own shop. Once they'd left the aisle, you let out a loud sigh, pent up tension from the sudden reunion seeping out of your body. Phoebe dropped the turkey dinosaurs into the basket you'd picked up, wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand instead.

"Why did you tell them I was your niece?" Phoebe guided you further down the frozen aisle as she questioned your actions, walking a few paces in front of you, your connect hands dangling between the two of you.

"Your uncle Roy is a very private person," you started, unsure exactly of what was the right thing to tell a 7 year old on such a matter. "I didn't want to tell them you were Roy's niece in case they decided that meant something more"

"Something more?" Phoebe wandered out loud, stopping in front of the ice cream section and pulling the door open. "Like if they though that meant you were dating my uncle Roy."

Jesus Christ, 7 year olds were so much smarter and observant then you'd thought. "Yeah, something like that."

"And why aren't you dating?" You didn't know what to say to that, instead opting to pick Phoebe up once more so that she could reach the specific tub of ice cream she was searching for. "My mum says uncle Roy should date someone nice and you're nice."

"Well I'm glad you think I'm nice, pheeb's." You ruffled the blondes hair as you placed her back on the ground, allowing her to place the ice cream in the basket before grabbing her hand once more. "How about we grab a pizza too? Just incase you're here for tea?"

Phoebe loved the idea, sprinting down to the end of the aisle in search of the pizzas with a wide smile on her face.

The rest of your day with Phoebe had flown by, you'd come home and eaten your lunch of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles, done some colouring in, played knights and dragons, eaten your ice cream, and watched a movie. As the first spy kids had come to an end, something you'd put on at phoebes request all though you were heavily invested in it the whole time, you put the pizza she'd picked out in the oven.

"Phoebe," you shouted from the kitchen as you made your way back into the living room. "It's getting kind of late, sweetheart, do you have any pjs in your bag?"

"No," she instantly replied, licking her spoon clean of ice cream even though it only really added to the rim of vanilla that had formed around her mouth. "I don't pack pjs in my bag because I have some in my room at uncle Roy's house."

If you'd have had the common sense to ask earlier, you might've picked some up while the two of you were in Tesco, but you hadn't, and now you had to make do with what you had. "You want to get in some of my pjs pheeb's? I'll get into pjs too and then we can be all comfy while we eat our pizza and watch spy kids 2."

"I won't fit in your pjs." Phoebe countered, but got off the couch nonetheless, placing her empty bowl on your coffee table and joining you by the kitchen door. Lacing her fingers through your own she allowed you to guide her in the direction of your room.

She dove straight for the bed when you opened the door, similarly to how she'd made a b-line for your sofa earlier in the day when she'd arrived, but was quick to hop right back off of it when you opened your wardrobe doors. You stood quietly behind her as she picked out one of your T-shirts to act as a night dress.

"This one!" She proclaimed, quick to swap her current outfit for your top before sprinting out of your bedroom. Before you could ask what on earth she was doing, the oven started to beep. "Pizza's ready!"

You picked up the pile of clothes Phoebe had left behind, throwing it by her shoes at the door so that you wouldn't forget to pack them up whenever Roy came to collect her. Then you went back to the kitchen, clicking the timer off to stop the loud beeping and pulling the pizza out of the oven. Phoebe stood behind you doing some kind of 'pizza dance' as she'd called it as you cut it into 8 slices, grabbing one big plate to place it onto.

"Race you back to the sofa." Phoebe didn't need to be told twice, running for the sofa and throwing herself into the mess of blankets, pillows and felt tip pens. As soon as the two of you were comfortably settled, you put spy kids 2 on, the pair of you tucking into your dinner without a thought spared as to where Roy was or just how late it was really getting.

Though you didn't remember falling asleep, a knocking at your front door had you waking up. Sometime between pizza and now, Phoebe had crawled into your lap, and instead of waking her to go to the door, you scooped her into your arms, resting her on your hip as you stumbled sleepily from your sofa to your front door.

When you opened the door, Roy looked like he'd been prepped with an apology, something about how he'd never meant to come back so late and how he really owed you one now but his words befell him at the sight of you and Phoebe on the other side of the door.

It was a sight to behold, especially to a lovesick Roy. Your hair was all tousled and you still looked half asleep, Phoebe was fast asleep in your arms and in what he guessed was one of your shirts. "Roy," you crooned, opening the door even wider. "Come in, I just need to pack up Phoebe's stuff."

Roy shuffled into your living room, his hands still tucked stiffly in his pockets as you began to pace around the room packing phoebes things while she was still in your arms. It was a level of domesticity Roy hadn't been prepared to see when he came to pick up his niece, and it sent his head whirling.

It was almost too easy to imagine you in this position with him, and a child of your own in your arms instead. He shook the thought from his head, bending down to pick up phoebe's day clothes and shoes from beside the door as you put all her felt tips back into her bag, along with her colouring book - save the first drawing she'd done which she'd torn out, demanding you keep it to remember your day together.

When you were certain you'd collected everything from the couch that had come in her bag, and put it back where it belonged, you turned to face Roy with a sleepy smile. "How was your coaches meeting?"

A smile curled on Roy's lips, something rare that almost surprised you to see. "Good. Long. But we got shit done so I can't really complain; although it would've been nice if it could've wrapped up before fucking midnight."

"Oh my god, is it that late?" You passed Phoebe's backpack to Roy, watching fondly as he slid one strap over his shoulder like clockwork. The thought couldn't help but slip into your mind that it was a sight you'd like to see more often.

"What did you two get up to today?" Roy asked, pulling Phoebes coat from the hanger by the door and slinging it over the crook in his elbow.

"Well, we went and got some lunch, and did some colouring, and played knights and dragons and watched spy kids 1 and 2. She kept me nice and busy, don't you worry."

Roy reached out for phoebe, taking her slowly and gently from your hold in his best attempt to keep her asleep as he took her home. "Not too busy I hope."

"No just the right amount." You bit back a laugh, cautious to not wake the sleeping child now that she was safely in her uncles arms. Pushing a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail back behind her ear, you thought back fondly on the day you'd shared and how easily It was to get on with Phoebe. "She's a great kid."

"Yeah, she really is." Finally, Roy was back on your doorstep, Phoebe in his arms and the pitch black of night behind him. "Thanks again, I really owe you one."

"It's no issue, really, I had a great time." You closed your door too, you leaning against the edge of the it being the only thing keeping it open. "Always happy to do it again, if you need me."

A million different responses crossed Roy's mind, some just inappropriate and some really fucking corny, so he settled on the easiest one to say. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You responded with a small wave, creeping back into the darkness of your house without another word.

As Roy made the short walk down from your front door to his car, he tried to control the erratic beating of his heart less it wake Phoebe up. Though you'd offered to take Phoebe in again if he ever needed it, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to take you up on the offer, not when the domestic scene of you with his niece made his feelings for you even more intense.

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2. the time when Roy had too many appointments

Though Roy had sworn he wouldn't drop Phoebe off with you again for the sake of his own feelings, he was calling you up to ask if you could look after her again less then a week later. Molly had been called into work again last minute, and it just so happened to be on the day when Roy decided to get all his check ups out of the way in one fell swoop.

You'd assured him through the phone that it was okay, and that you'd absolutely love to hang out with her again, however, when you'd asked how soon he'd be dropping her off the line went quiet.

"That's the thing," Roy started, a hesitance to his tone that told you he was reconsidering this whole request and on the verge of rescheduling his 5pm dentist appointment. "You'd need to pick her up from school. I can pick her up from 7pm, at the latest, so you'd just need to pick her up from school and give her some tea. I hope that's not too big-"

You didn't let Roy finish his sentence. "It's no problem Roy, really. Send me the address and I'll be there at 3pm?"

"Pick ups at 3:10, but that's perfect, thank you." You couldn't even see him and you could feel the smile that was pulling at his lips on the other side of the phone. "I really fucking mean that too, thank you."

"It's no problem Roy, really, I'll see you later."

You had an hour before you needed to pick Phoebe up, so you made a run for Tesco, picking up a jar of pasta sauce incase she didn't want the half a bag of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles that were still in your freezer, a bag of popcorn incase she didn't want ice cream again, and a set of kids size 8 pjs.

Though Roy said he'd be back for her by 7pm, you doubted she'd want to stay in her school uniform, and it'd be better to get a size 8 and it be too big then pick up a size 7 and it be too small.

On a second thought, you grabbed a second pair of the plain pjs, and some tiny slippers, knowing it wouldn't harm anyone to keep a spare pair of comfy clothes and shoes for her incase she came by again at the last minute. While you were in the kids clothing section, you picked up a pair of jeans and a pack of plain T-shirts, wanting to be prepared incase she were to ever show up in her pyjamas instead of her day clothes. Deciding you'd got everything you needed, you sped through the checkouts and got in your car, not wanting to be late to pick up Phoebe from school.

Luckily, you arrived with 5 minutes to spare, lingering around the gate with the other parents that had come to pick up there kids. Only then did it dawn on you that you may have needed some kind of note to prove you weren't kidnapping Phoebe and as you pulled out your phone to text Roy in a frenzy, you'd discovered he'd already sent you a message.

Teacher knows you're coming, I got Molly to send a message. might ask you to sign some shit confirming you picked her up though.

Even though Roy wasn't here, you felt ten times calmer, moving through the gate as it opened and towards the classroom door furthest from it, as Roy had told you to go to. A loud bell rung and suddenly kids came sprinting out from all directions, some running straight to and out of the main gate and others nervously looking around for whoever was picking them up.

You watched as a head of blonde hair in two neat plaits lingered in the classroom door, eyes scanning the playground for a familiar face, her mouth dropping open in a gasp as she made eye contact with you. With a cry of your name, Phoebe came running from the classroom, a bright smile on her face at your sudden appearance outside her classroom. "What are you doing here?"

"Your uncle Roy has got the dentist, so we're going to go back to mine for tea - if that's okay pheeb's?"

"That's perfect! Lets go home." Phoebe tried to pull you out of the playground and back to your car, but you pulled her back to stand in front of you.

"One minute sweetheart, got to make sure your teacher knows I'm not kidnapping you." Phoebe lead you right back to the classroom door, calling on her teacher, Ms Bowen, as she dragged you into the room. "Hi, Ms Bowen, I'm here to pick Phoebe up; I think Molly told you I was coming?"

"Ah yes, Mrs Kent, it's a pleasure to meet you." Mrs Kent Mrs Kent Mrs Kent. Molly, Roy's sister, had told Phoebe's teacher that you were Mrs Kent. It took everything in you not to absolutely spiral with the new piece of information.

"Yeah, lovely to meet you," You tried to avoid Ms Bowen's gaze, it having an edge to it that suggested you weren't entirely welcome here. "Roy said I might have to sign something, so you know I'm not fucking kidnapping her or anything." As soon as the words slipped from your mouth you were apologising for them. "I'm so sorry that just slipped out."

"Well, at least I can be sure you're Mrs Kent. You and Phoebe are free to go." You barely had time to say goodbye to Ms Bowen before Phoebe was dragging you towards your car, impatiently pulling at the handle in an attempt to get in quicker and spend even more time with you. If you weren't so caught up in the fact you'd just been called Mrs Kent, then maybe you'd find her excitement even more endearing.

"So, how was school, pheeb's?"

The car ride back home was filled with another update from Phoebe on what you'd missed in the 4 days you hadn't seen each other and the 3 days of school she'd had since the weekend. Since it was a slightly longer drive back home then from Tesco, you'd even got to introduce Phoebe to some of your favourite songs.

As you pulled onto your street, Phoebe was already buzzing in her seat, desperate it seemed to get inside. Letting her make a run for the door as you got out of the car, knowing she couldn't get in without your key, you made your way around to the boot, pulling out your bag of goodies. "Got you some stuff to change into pheeb's," pulling out both the pyjamas and the normal clothes, you handed them to her, keeping the slippers in the bag still. "Go get changed and bring me your uniform when your done, yeah? I'll pop it in the wash for your mum and we can put on a movie or something until tea time."

Phoebe was sprinting off in the direction of your bedroom to change within seconds of you finishing speaking. In the two times you'd had the pleasure of meeting Phoebe she always seemed to be rushing and running about, but that was what kids were like, you guessed; even if she was the calmest child ever - and she was pretty calm compared to some of those other kids you'd seen in the playground today - you reckon you'd think she was all over the place, especially compared to yourself.

When Phoebe came back out in the plaid, pink pyjama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, she declared she wasn't hungry yet and wanted to watch spy kids 3; telling you it was basically mandatory for you finished the movie series now you'd watched the first 2. You were happy to oblige of course, Phoebe cuddling into your side as you took a seat next to her on the sofa.

Half an hour into the movie, you whispered the question of what to have for dinner to Phoebe and she perked up at the mention of pasta, allowing you to bail on the second half of the film in order to make it. It didn't take long of course, but you were wary of the fact Roy was picking her up sooner rather then later this time around.

Roy. Roy. Even thinking of the handsome coach you worked with had your thoughts spiralling. Once you'd managed to crack your way through his hard exterior, you'd found one of the most thoughtful and caring people you've ever met, and if you didn't like him already, that side of him had you falling head over heels. The Roy that brought you coffee in the mornings when he stopped to get his own, the Roy that would buy you lunch without asking if you wanted any but would kick up a fuss if anyone else tried to get him to add to that order, the Roy that left sticky note reminders on the door of your office because he knew you'd forget something, the Roy that trusted you so much he was willing to leave his niece with you on multiple occasions. Your brain had been so consumed by Roy that you'd made him up a plate of pasta, and instead of putting it back into the pot, settled with covering it in tinfoil and giving it him to take home. However, before you could call Phoebe in to ask if she wanted cheese on top of her pasta, there was a knock at your door.

In an instant, you pulled the tinfoil back off of the extra plate of pasta, and opened the bag of grated cheese, then rushed to the door, opening wide to find Roy on the other side. "You're just in time for dinner." Without thinking, or so much as a hello, how are you, or how was the dentist, you grabbed Roy's hand, pulling him inside your house and into your kitchen. "Pheeb's dinner!"

"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, running into the brunettes arms, him bending down to pick her up. As soon as she was perched in his hold, she was quick to recount the days events like she had with you a couple of hours earlier, only pausing to answer your question of 'cheese?' and taking a fistful to sprinkle on her plate whilst finishing her recap of the day.

It was only then did Roy notice that you'd already played three bowls of pasta up, even though you shouldn't have been expecting him soon enough to eat with the two of you. Carefully he put Phoebe down, handing her her bowl of pasta and urging her to get back to the sofa and eat, promising that the two of you were right behind her.

"You made me up a plate?" Roy asked, part confused and part in complete adoration. The simplicity of it; such a small action meant so much to the retired footballer. Even in his absence you'd thought of him, made extra food for him, plated it up perfectly in time with his arrival. If he allowed his thoughts to wander, he would've revelled in the warmth of the action, in how loved it made him feel - as though normalcy was something completely within his grasps. As if it was something he could easily have with you.

"Yeah, of course I did. Can't have my favourite coach going hungry, can I?" You squeezed at his hand when you called him your favourite coach, and only god knows what would've happened if Phoebe hadn't called your name from the room over. Roy was certain he would've made a move; told you exactly the kind of effect you had on him, or squeezed your hand back, or even kissed you. Though he wasn't entirely sure, he knew he wouldn't have let the moment slip through his fingers so easily.

Although, when he walked into the living room, palate of pasta in hand, he received something better then anything that could've happened in your kitchen. You and Phoebe were curled up together on the couch, her little legs thrown over your lap and a pillow on her lap for her to balance her pasta on. Phoebe's head rested against your shoulder as she ate and you turned to see where Roy was, a smile curling on your face as you saw him in your kitchen doorway, pasta in hand.

You craved the domestic scene that was now playing out before you, like something straight out of a dream.

Phoebe's favourite place on your sofa had quickly become the corner, meaning the only space available was next to you. Roy, for once in his life, took full advantage of the opportunity, sitting as close to you as he could claim was suitable and allowing himself to really enjoy the moment.

Even when dinner was long finished, the three of you were curled up together. Spy Kids 4 had been put on in order to appease Phoebe's demands that you finish the series and Roy's arm moving to the back of your couch cushions, and in turn over your shoulders, meant he'd slowly moved closer to you. The two of you spent the movie talking in quiet whispers, you filling him in on any context needed from the first three movies and him telling you about his day full of appointments. The pair of you would've happily stayed there, on your couch, cuddled up together, forever, but Phoebe's gentle snores told you it was best for them to get going.

"She's already in pjs, so you don't have to worry about that and - oh!" You left Roy in your doorway, an asleep Phoebe in his arms in a mirror image of 4 nights before. "I washed her uniform so Molly wouldn't have to."

Roy's heart was bursting at the seams at the evening you'd shared, and now this? While it may not seem like much to most people, to Roy it was everything. Not only had you offered to look after his niece on multiple occasions at the last minute, you'd gone out of your way to buy her pyjamas that fit just because she was coming by, and you'd washed her uniform to take a weight off of her mum's shoulders - who you'd yet to even meet. It's like you were trying to make him fall ridiculously in love with you.

Love.

That wasn't a word Roy was supposed to use; at least not when you were only friends. But how could he not fall in love with you? He was sure that anyone who spent more then 10 seconds in a room with you fell in love with you; how could they not? You were so easy to love; selfless and caring in a way he'd never seen before, someone truly one of a kind.

"Seriously, thank you." Roy's face entirely softened as he spoke, tension seeping out from his features to a degree you'd never seen before. "I don't think you know exactly how much this means to me and Molly."

"Oh please Roy, It's nothing-"

Roy cut you off, his hand coming to rest on your arm, his thumb running up and down your forearm. "No. It's a fucking lot - and it means a fucking lot. Just accept the thank you, yeah?"

A bashful smile creeped onto your lips, your head ducking as you suddenly became very aware of the fact Roy was looking at you and touching you. "Okay, yeah, you're welcome."

"Perfect." Once again, you got a glimpse at the dazzling smile that Roy kept reserved for only the most important people in his life, the look of it alone making your knees weak. They only got weaker as Roy leaned in closer to you, placing a chaste yet scratchy kiss to your cheek. "Goodnight."

In a daze, you murmured a 'goodnight' back, this time waiting until he'd driven off before going back inside; and even then, you stood behind your door, processing exactly what had just happened and why you hadn't returned the sweet gesture.

Roy Kent and his adorable niece were going to be the death of you.

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3. the time you were meant to be going on a date

So far, in the three hours you'd been getting ready, you'd done your eye liner, wiped one side off, redone it, wiped the other side off and redone that, at least 200 times. You just couldn't get it to look right. And when you'd expressed to Keeley that maybe this was a sign from above you shouldn't be going on this date, she'd insisted, yet again, that you had to go because she was your perfect match.

Though you'd never met the girl, Keeley was determined to set you up with her, claiming from the very second she'd walked into KJPR asking about a job, she knew she was the one for you.

Part of you thought she just wanted to help you get over Roy, especially since this was the 9th blind date she'd set you up on since you'd confided in her about your feelings for the ruggedly handsome coach. Each one she'd claimed was your soulmate and each one, so far, had turned out to be a complete and utter douche bag. Despite her failure to actually find someone compatible for you, you greatly appreciated her enthusiasm and effort.

A knock on your door had you screeching down your phone at Keeley that you weren't ready for this, but one last twirl in front of the camera, and a 'you look hot as fuck babe' from the matchmaker herself, had you ready to face your date.

To your surprise, however, when you opened the door you were met with Roy, Molly and Phoebe, all in pyjamas and Phoebe's little hands curled into tight fists that twisted into the fabric of her uncles T-shirt. It took you a second to process the scene before you before you could offer a rather confused, "Hello?"

Though this wouldn't be the first time Roy had shown up with Phoebe on your doorstep, it was the first time he'd ever shown up unannounced and with his sister in tow. "This is a bad time, isn't it." Roy's sister, who you'd come to recognise as Molly, whispered, her gaze flickering across your knee length, fitted, red dress. "You look stunning though."

"Oh my god, thank you." With the silence finally broken, it was like your brain had brought the rest of your body up to speed, offending a hand out for Molly to shake. "Molly, right? It's great to finally meet you."

"Great to meet you too, I've heard great things." General pleasantries we're exchanged between the two of you, though it wasn't as awkward as it usually was when you were meeting new people, instead it was like bumping into someone you hadn't seen in a few years but genuinely missed.

In the noise of your small talk, Phoebe took the opportunity to whisper three little words into her uncles ear. "She's so pretty."

Roy's cheeks burned as his niece said everything he couldn't, and so easily too. It was obvious you were dressed up for a date in that long, burgundy dress that hugged you just right, and he was struggling to take his eyes off of you.

"So what brings you to my doorstep at 6pm on a Monday?" You asked, hesitant to ask at all incase you touched a sore spot. Molly had never shown up with Roy when he dropped Phoebe off, which told you this was potentially more serious then his other last minute drop offs - especially when he'd never shown up unannounced before. "Not that I'm upset that you're here or anything, just a bit confused."

"Clearly, you're on your way out, so we won't bother you, we just-"

You didn't let Molly explain, pulling out your phone, and sending to a quick message to your date and to Keeley, explaining some family stuff had come up last minute and offering to go out some other time. "My evening just freed up, actually." You offered Molly a genuine smile, taking Phoebe from Roy's hold and into your own. "Why don't you go and get into your pjs Hun, and then we'll pick out a movie?"

"Do you still have my ice cream?" Phoebe asked, tilting her head to look at you better. Now she was closer, you noticed her eyes were rubbed red, almost like she'd been crying.

"Of course I do sweetheart, and I've still got turkey dinosaurs if you've not eaten dinner yet."

A sniffly 'yes please' left phoebes lips before she got down from your hold, running into the direction of your bedroom without so much as a goodbye to her mum or her uncle Roy. When Phoebe was out of earshot, you closed the door a little, talking in hushed tones. "Is everything okay? What's going on?" And with a second thought, you added. "You don't have to tell me, I didn't mean to pry."

"Phoebes dad showed up." Molly simply stated, folding her arms across her chest protectively. "He knows he's not allowed around her, and we didn't know where else to take her while we dealt with him." Your heart ached for the little girl. In the short time you'd got to know Phoebe, you'd quickly come to absolutely love her to pieces - and you couldn't understand how anyone wold want to hurt her. Phoebe was a complete and utter ray of sunshine and, considering she was only 7 years old, was one of the kindest and smartest people you'd ever met. "You didn't have to take her, if we'd have known you had plans we wouldn't have just fucking shown up."

Molly sharply dug her elbow into Roy's side as she spoke, clearly signalling that she'd thought that Roy had had the decency to ask you if you would watch Phoebe before they showed up in your doorstep. A laugh bubbled past your lips at how offended Roy got by his sisters words, a comeback never leaving his lips as you interrupted him with a smile. "It's fine, really, I love hanging out with Phoebe. Besides, I wasn't really looking forward to this date anyway."

Now that caught Roy's attention. "Why not? You look fucking great, you'd have probably had a great time too."

Rather selfishly, Roy was incredibly thankful that they'd show up unannounced, he didn't want you to go on a date, and it seemed as if you didn't either. "Keeley keeps pushing me to go on these blind dates, it's not really my thing, but she keeps insisting she's found my soulmate, so I keep going on them to appease her." You leaned in closer to the two incase Phoebe heard your next words, though considering she was related to Roy, you knew she'd heard worse. "All of them have been fucking pricks so far though."

"Good thing we showed up then, yeah."

"Yeah."

Molly looked between the two of you with a smile bit back between her teeth, trying her hardest not to give anything away as she watched the two of you. "Well, we better get going, deal with this so we can take her off your hands as soon as."

Taking Phoebe's back pack from Molly's outstretched hands, you slung it over your shoulder. "Oh don't worry about rushing back, she's more then welcome to stay the night here. Do you need me to drop her off at school in the morning?"

"Oh no, she's all finished for summer now, so you don't have to worry about that." Molly's gaze lingered on you for a while, then she pulled you into a tight hug, cradling you in such a way you felt like a kid again. "Thank you so much for this. I really mean that."

Tears threatened to pool in your eyes at the genuine thankfulness to her words. Roy had told you before that he and Molly greatly appreciated you looking after Phoebe every now and then, but this felt so different to that - it made you understand why he'd told you to just accept the thank you.

"Yeah, of course, like I keep telling Roy, anytime you need me, I'm here."

"Oh, wait." Before Roy and Molly could head back to his car, he handed you a carrier bag that he'd been holding at his side since he appeared on your doorstep. "Your tshirt, and those pyjamas. I wasn't sure if you had anymore, and kept meaning to return them to you anyway."

"Ah, thank you!" Though you never said anything when Phoebe raided your closest, she'd picked your favourite sleep shirt, and you were glad to have it back. "I got another pair of pyjamas for her in my wardrobe anyway, or she could've just used another one of my shirts; she would've been fine either way. But, thank you Roy, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, no worries, washed them for you and everything so, they're all good to go." Molly shouted a goodbye to Phoebe who had made herself comfortable in her spot on your couch, and then said one to you, thanking you again for your help. You said one last goodbye to both her and Roy, waiting on your doorstep to wave them off before going back inside to tend to Phoebe.

Once Roy had driven out of your street and had started on the journey back to his sisters place, she turned to him with a shit-eating grin on her face. Molly had been waiting years to be able to tease Roy about someone he liked, and while he'd had plenty of flings over the years, nothing was ever serious enough, and non of them were ever nice enough, that Molly felt like she could get a rise out of Roy by teasing him. This time though, she knew it was different.

"She's incredible." Molly started, keeping her gaze intently on her brother, though his remained firmly on the road. "She cancelled her date to look after Phoebe, already had a change of clothes and food for her, and she's fucking hot." Molly let out an overly loud sigh as Roy ignored her words. "So tell me why on earth you haven't made a move on her yet? Because if you don't, I certainly will."

"Fuck off." Roy grunted, his grip on the wheel tightening at his sisters words. "She's obviously not interested in me like that if she was going on a date with a fucking stranger." Now that he'd started talking on the matter, Roy was worried he'd never stop. He'd not yet had the opportunity to talk about his feelings for you, the matter being as simple as he wasn't sure who he could tell. He even went as far as considering calling a diamond dogs meeting to get the weight off of his chest, but luckily, or rather unluckily for Roy, his sister had beaten the diamond dogs to it. "I wouldn't want to ruin what we already have anyway. She's so... good, with, like, everything. She's so kind, and she cares so much about everyone else; did I tell you she made me dinner when I asked her to pick Phoebe up when I had the dentist? And Phoebe! She's so good with Phoebe and I just- fuck!"

"That hard to get the words out, huh?" Molly teased, poking her brother sharply in the arm. "You must really like her." Before Roy could interrupt with what Molly knew would be another iteration of 'fuck off,' she added. "She likes you too, y'know."

"I'm sorry," Roy gasped, eyes tearing away from the road for only a second to stare at his sister incredulously. "Did you forget she was about to go for dinner with someone who isn't me?"

"Yeah I know that stupid," Molly scoffed, folding her arms back across her chest as she sunk into the seat of her brothers car. "But I did see the way she was looking at you - the way you were looking at each other - and I'm telling you, she likes you."

"Shut the fuck up." And that was that. Molly didn't need to tease Roy any further because she knew she'd hit a sore spot. Roy really liked you, and not that it mattered but Molly really liked you too - and Phoebe absolutely loved you - but Roy was still too scared to ask you out. That was punishment enough.

Phoebe hadn't seemed phased by the departure of her mum and uncle, and a part of you was thankful for that. Though you didn't really know anything about Phoebe's dad, apart from what you'd learnt in the past 10 minutes, you were surprised to see she'd bounced back pretty quickly.

"So pheeb's, you want dinner now, or in a little bit?" Throwing yourself next to the blonde on the sofa, she was quick to cuddle into your side, wrapping both her arms around your bigger one.

"Can we have dinner now, please." She whispered into the warm skin of your arm, her fingers scratching at the fabric of your dress.

"Of course we can sweetheart." You squeezed her in for a tight hug, before standing from the couch, quickly putting on the oven and pulling the turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles out of the freezer. You lingered in the doorway as you waited for Phoebe's dinner to cook, watching as she searched for a movie to put on while the two of you ate. She seemed so much more relaxed then when you first opened the door, and you hoped it's stay that way now she was here and safe. At the beeping of the oven, your turned away from her, plating the two of you some dinner and quickly returning to the sofa.

With a pile of dinner plates and ice cream bowls on your coffee table, and a movie minutes from ending, you turned to face Phoebe with a soft smile. Brushing back the hair that had fallen into her face, you gently woke the girl, telling her that it was time for bed now. Too sleepy to fully wake up, you picked Phoebe up, opting to carry her to your guest room instead. However, when you'd tucked her in and tried to leave, she'd gripped tightly onto your hand.

"Can you stay with me?" If her quiet and sleepy state didn't have you agreeing, the knowledge she was in an unfamiliar environment would've. Even though Phoebe had been in your house plenty of times now, she'd never stayed the night before, and it was easy to understand how that might freak her out - especially on top of the night she'd had.

"Yeah. Come on then." Instead of sleeping in the guest room, you picked Phoebe right back up, carrying her to your room and putting her down on the left side of your bed. Finally having the opportunity, you sat down at your desk, pulling out a packet of makeup wipes, and wiping off the eyeliner you'd worked so hard to get right. Even though your date never got to see it, Roy did, which was even better as far as you were concerned.

Just as you'd finished brushing your teeth, in fresh pyjamas, and making a mental note to buy a toothbrush for Phoebe next time you went to Tesco, you heard a shrill cry of 'mum.' Running back into your bedroom you found Phoebe wide awake with tears in her eyes, looking around in an urgent search for the woman she'd just cried out for.

"Hey, Pheeb's," you soothed, flicking the bedroom light back on before you approached her, not wanting to freak her out more. When she recognised your face past the haze of sleep, she was quick to reach out for you and you were quick to cross the room to meet her, pulling her into a hug and rubbing soothing circles into her back. "We're at my house remember, your mum and uncle Roy had to do some stuff so you're having a sleep over with me, okay?"

It took a good half an hour for Phoebe to fully calm down, but once she had, she was out cold again. This time, you lay in bed beside her, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders to make sure she knew she was safe. Before you went to sleep yourself, however, you sent Roy a text, leaving out the details of phoebes nightmare and just keeping him updated on things.

Phoebe's out cold so don't worry about picking her up until morning. Breakfast is at 8. There will be a plate for you and Molly whenever you get here xxx

You didn't wait see if he replied, and didn't worry yourself over if three x's at the end was too many, setting an alarm for 7am and putting your phone into do not disturb.

Thankfully, you beat Phoebe and your alarm to waking up, giving you a head start on making breakfast. If you knew anything, it was that kids loved sweet stuff, and given Phoebe's affinity for ice cream, you knew waffles were exactly what she needed this morning. Ted had given you a waffle machine as part of your present in last years Secret Santa and promised you you'd find a use for it eventually, and you were slightly surprised to find out he'd been right.

You got right to work on the batter recipe that came with the machine, letting Phoebe sleep in until the point you were ready to cook them. Though she'd been reluctant to wake up at first, at the mention of waffles and ice cream for breakfast, she sprang out of bed, hesitating in your hallway as she heard a knock at the door.

"You wait here while I get it, yeah pheeb's?" Phoebe nodded silently, creeping down the rest of the hallway so that she'd be able to hear who was at the door without being seen. Although you were 90% sure it was Roy and Molly on the other side of the door, you didn't want to risk anything.

Looking through your peep hole, your suspicions were proved right. "Good morning Roy, Molly." Phoebe came sprinting round the corner at the mention of her mums name, running right into her arms as you opened the door wider for her. "Waffles and Ice cream for breakfast, think we all deserve it, yeah?"

Molly mouthed a thank you at you as Phoebe directed her towards your couch, Roy allowing you to close your front door then following you to the kitchen.

The image of you, still sleepy and in your pyjamas, hair mused and making breakfast for him and the rest of his family, made his heart twist and his stomach churn. In some cruel twist of fate, everything he wanted was right in front of him but it wasn't that which he could call his.

"I know it's non of my business," you started, placing two scoops of mix into the two waffle shaped holes in the machine Ted had bought you then closing it, flipping it over, and scooping up another spoonful of mixture ready for when these ones were done. "But, is everything okay? Are Phoebe and Molly okay now?"

Why did you have to care about his family so much? Moments like this made Roy think you knew of his feelings for you, and that you were doing every thing you could to push him to tell you. Surely you had to care for him, at the least, not everyone would do what you did for him, and definitely not with the same level of enthusiasm and genuine happiness to do it.

"Yeah, everything's okay." Roy kept it short, knowing that ultimately, it wasn't his story to share. "Are you okay? I know we kind of ruined your plans last night."

"How many times am I going to have to tell you that I didn't even want to go?" The laugh that bubbled past your lips had a smile forming on Roy's face. He loved how easy it was between the two of you here. Sure, you made him smile and laugh at Nelson road all the time, but at Nelson road he felt like he had to be Roy Kent: here, he could just be Roy, Phoebe's uncle. And you really liked Roy, Phoebe's uncle. "Besides, I had a better evening with Phoebe, and the 10 minutes I spent with you and Molly, then I would've had on the date anyway."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Roy's voice was even deeper then usual, not that you'd ever thought that was possible, from tiredness, and you'd only just noticed that he was still in his pyjamas, much like yourself. "That you wouldn't have enjoyed yourself?"

Roy leant over you, not noticing how blood rushed to your cheeks as he took the first two waffles out of the machine for you, allowing you to get the second lot started without hurting your fingers from picking up the fresh waffles. "My hearts not in it, you know?" You turned to press your back against the counter top, now chest to chest with Roy in the closest proximity you'd ever been. Neither of you made an effort to move. "The whole dating just to date isn't for me, I don't think. And if I'm going to date to, um, to marry someone, I'd much rather it be someone I know, someone who knows me."

You were worried you'd been a little too on the nose in your explanation, but Roy didn't seem to mind. He leant forward slightly so that he could rest his palms against your countertop, caging you in between his muscular arms. "Is that right?" You nodded silently, allowing your gaze to flicker down to his lips now that he was inches away from you. There was no way you were reading too much into things this time. "And, would that someone, would they have to be anyone in particular?"

"Yeah, yeah they would." You answered breathlessly, tilting your head back up so that your gaze would meet Roy's but instead brushing your nose softly against his.

Roy was finally going to do it.

A cry of your name and the padding of footsteps had Roy stepping away from you, Phoebe running into the kitchen with Molly hot on her tail. "Are the waffles ready?"

"You came at the perfect time!" You answered, brushing the moment off of you, and turning back to the slightly cooled waffles, sliding them down the counter towards Phoebe and Molly along with the ice cream scoop. As they plated up their waffles, you took yours and Roy's out of the machine, putting them onto plates and giving them time to cool before you added your ice cream on top. You watched intently as Molly and Phoebe plated up their food, your fingers drilling against the countertop in wait.

The second they'd left the kitchen and headed back to the living room, you turned to face Roy, leaving him no time to think as you grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed your lips to his. It was hot and messy, the two of you fighting to condense several months worth of building tension into one moment. At even the slightest of noises from outside the kitchen, you pulled away, turning your back to Roy immediately and scooping some ice cream onto your cooked waffle.

"Want ice cream on yours?" You asked Roy, turning to face him. His cheeks burned red and breathes heaved from his chest as though he'd just run a mile, his hair was a little more tousled then it had been when he first walked into your house and his lips were red and wet.

"Fuck the ice cream."

Roy grabbed you by your waist, twisting his fingers into the fabric of your sleep shirt to keep you close to him as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. Roy's free hand moved up to caress your cheek, his other hand snaking around to rest on your lower back, pulling you even more into him. Moving one hand up to his hair, you kept the other on his shirt, keeping him close to you. While you'd imagined Roy to be a smooth kisser, you'd never imagined the day would come where he would actually be kissing you.

At a call of both your names from Phoebe, you broke apart once more, passing Roy his ice-cream-less waffle and pushing him out of your kitchen, taking full advantage of the fact that if he sat down first, you'd have no choice to to sit basically on top of him. You were sure he wouldn't mind.

—————————————————————————

4. the time when Molly dropped Phoebe off instead

"And that's why the two of you need to get married."

Roy had been actively avoiding you since your kiss in the kitchen two weeks ago. And this was the 4th time in two weeks that Molly had asked if Phoebe could come over; two of them due to the fact both her and Roy were busy, and the other two being due to the fact Phoebe needed to have 'girl talk' with you. So far, girl talk had consisted of Phoebe listing reasons as to why you and Roy were perfect for each other.

"We're not going to get married, Pheeb's."

"But why not?" Phoebe dramatically collapsed into your sofa cushions, ignoring the fact her over the top tumble had knocked over one of your piles of folded washing in favour of going back to questioning you. "He talks about you all the time. And I see the way you look at him when he drops me off and picks me up."

"But he hasn't picked you up or dropped you off in two weeks sweetheart," you were back in the uncomfortable scenario of exposing something to a 7 year old, and you were trying your hardest not to let your confused feelings towards Roy interfere with what you wanted to say. "So, I don't think he wants to see me anymore. And that okay! But it also means we're not going to get married."

"But why not?"

"Phoebe." Your sterner tone had Phoebe sitting up right, her legs dangling over the edge of the sofa. Putting down the freshly washed t-shirt, you knelt down in front of Phoebe, taking her hands in your own and squeezing gently. "It's not that simple, sweetheart," pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, she met your eyes. "I wish it was, but it is isn't. Me and your uncle Roy aren't going to get married, Pheeb's, but I'm sure he's going to find someone amazing someday, and you're going to love them."

"But I don't want him to find someone else amazing." Phoebe sulked, tears brimming at her eyes as she thought about a future without you and Roy together. While she was definitely thinking of the worst possible outcomes, the potential it could come true alone was enough to send her to tears. "I want him to find you! I don't want my uncle Roy to marry someone else because then I'll have to hang out with them and not you and- and- and-"

"C'mere." You pulled Phoebe fully into your arms, adjusting yourself so that you were both sat comfortably on your couch. "When your uncle Roy finds someone he loves, and he wants them to be a part of your life, I'll still be here. And you can always come and hang out with me, whenever you want. That isn't going to change Phoebe. I care about you a lot, okay?"

Phoebe couldn't find the words to express what she was thinking. She wanted to scream that you were the person her uncle Roy wanted be a part of her life, that you were the one he loved. Even though she was only 7 years old, she was certain that she knew what love was: and love was the way you and her uncle Roy had sat together, eating waffles for breakfast and talking with her mum, love was the way you and her uncle Roy talked about your day in a whisper over spy kids 4 because you wanted her to enjoy the movie still, love was the way it took her uncle Roy exactly 15 seconds to decide he wanted you to look after her on that Saturday 2 months ago. But she didn't know how to say all that in a way she could get you to understand. She'd tried everything and you still wouldn't digest the crumb of Roy's love that she was trying to explain to you, so she settled on the saying the best thing she could.

"Promise?"

"On my life." You ruffled her blonde hair, causing a smile to pull at her lips. You went back to folding your washing and Phoebe went back to watching her movie, like the two of you always did.

The peaceful moment was unfortunately interrupted by a loud and quick succession of knocks at your door. You put down the shirt you'd been folding and even Phoebe paused her show to come and see who was at the door.

"Jamie? Hi, what- what are you doing here?" Phoebe seemed to have some idea, walking past you to grab Jamie by the hand and pull him to sit on your sofa.

"I invited him." You had too many questions to counter that statement, mainly how she'd contacted Jamie and why he didn't bat an eye at being invited to your house by a 7 year old. "We need to discuss uncle's day."

Phoebe had told you about uncle's day - a day to celebrate her love for her uncle Roy - but you weren't entirely sure where you and Jamie fit into that puzzle. "Why do you need me and Jamie to discuss uncle's day, Hun. I don't think your uncle Roy would want either of us to celebrate uncles day with him."

"Of course he would!" Phoebe cried, pulling out her notebook and one of her felt tip pens, flicking to a blank page in her notebook and writing 'uncles day' at the top neatly. "Jamie is his best friend and Uncle Roy loves you, of course you've got to be there!"

Before you could remind Phoebe that you'd just had a conversation about why that wasn't the case, Jamie turned to face you with a wicked smile. "I knew you and Roy had something going on."

"We don't."

"Is that why he's been all moody at training for the last two weeks?" At your silence, Jamie took it that he was correct, a gasp slipping past his lips. "Did you turn him down? Of course it's okay if you did, but why?"

"No. I didn't turn him down." Phoebe's ears pricked up at that, making you realise exactly how what you were saying sounded. "I can't turn him down if he never asked me anything."

"But something happened?" Jamie pushed, leaning his elbows on his knees, Phoebe sat in a scarily mirrored image of him beside him.

"Fuck off." You scoffed, a smile curling onto Phoebe's lips. In the weeks you'd spent hanging out with her, she'd filled you in on every inside joke she shared with her uncle Roy and everything that made him the best uncle ever. "You can bill your uncle Roy for that one Pheeb's." Phoebe flicked back to the front of her notebook, adding a line to a very long list of tally's that had accumulated there.

Jamie tightened his gaze on you, readjusting his headband so that it kept his hair out of his eyes better. If it weren't for the unwavering, and slightly creepy, nature of his gaze, you were sure you would've just kept it to yourself.

"I kissed him." You'd attempted to mouth the words at the striker, but he hadn't picked them up, instead mouthing them to himself over and over again until he loud out a loud gasp, repeating the words out loud. Phoebe let out a squeal, jumping up and down on your couch cushions in complete and utter joy. An hour ago you'd told her you and her uncle Roy would never get married and know you were admitting that you'd kissed - things were coming up Phoebe, she'd decided. "But, he hasn't spoken to me since."

"Yeah, but that's what Roy's like, you know?" Jamie extended an arm to you, encouraging you to crash down in between him and Phoebe on the couch. You took him up on the offer, curling into his side and letting Phoebe curl into yours. "He's like, super mean and cold on the outside and once he lets you get to know him, he's all... all soft. And I don't think he knows it's okay to be soft sometimes." You let your head fall against Jamie's shoulder, Phoebe nodding beside you at Jamie's words. "I think you've got to show him it's okay for him to be all soft. Cause he really does care about you, I just don't think he knows how to tell you that."

"That was," you didn't even have the words for it. Somehow, Jamie had crawled inside your brain and soothed the exact source of your worry. "That was very insightful Jamie, thank you."

"No worries, I'm proper smart when I want to be me. Plus, when you spend so much time around the guy, it's hard not to see past that façade he puts up." Jamie removed his arm from around your shoulders, rubbing his together and then loudly clapping. "So, uncles day-"

You, Phoebe and Jamie spent the rest of the after noon feasting on whatever snacks they could find in your cupboards and planning out every little detail about uncles days. The pair had convinced you to make an appearance even if you and Roy hadn't reconciled come uncles day; Phoebe wanted you there and that was enough for you. By the time 5pm had rolled around you'd offered to get started on dinner for the 3 of you, but Jamie said he'd best be heading out and Phoebe reminded you her mum was picking her up soon enough anyway.

"Pheeb's, go and get your bag your mums here." When you opened the door, however, you were surprised to find Roy on the other side of it, his hands shoved into his pockets and half facing away from you. "Oh Roy, hi, I didn't know you were picking Phoebe up."

"Me either," he grunted, staring intently at the floor as he let out a long sigh. Finally, he looked at you, shifting nervously under your gaze. He's practiced what he wanted to say at least 200 times on the way over; he knew Molly asking him to come pick Phoebe up was her pushing him to talk to you. All he wanted was to talk to you. But he was too scared of fucking things up and loosing you entirely that he'd resigned to the fact that he would just have to avoid you for the rest of his life. For once, Roy needed to just do it, to tell you how he felt and throw sensibility to the wind. If you liked him, and that kiss wasn't a heat of the moment thing, then great; if you wanted nothing to do with him? He'd figure it out. All he had to do now was-

"Jamie? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Jesus, Roy, hello to you too." Jamie scoffed, pushing his hair back and out of his eyes then folding his arms across his chest. "I was just dropping off something for Keeley. Don't get all jealous on me old man, I'm not here to steal your missus." Jamie then turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively now his back was turned to Roy. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before running down your driveway, presumably to escape the clutches of a pissed of Roy. "See you later love, you too Phoebe!"

"Bye Jamie!" Phoebe shouted, waving enthusiastically at her new friend then turning to her uncle Roy with a frown. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."

"Bill me." He took Phoebe by the hand, taking her backpack in his other and walked away from your doorstep without so much as another word to you. Phoebe yelled a goodbye before she get in Roy's car but Roy continued to ignore you, even as you waited on your doorstep to wave them one last goodbye.

Roy spent the whole drive back to molly's and the rest of the evening absolutely kicking himself. Part of him wished he'd just come out and said it while he had you alone on your doorstep, but the worse part of him - the part that didn't believe he was worthy of you - told him Jamie being there was a sign it wasn't the right moment. And maybe, he thought, the right moment would never come.

Jamie was right. You were going to have to be the one to show Roy it was okay to be soft; especially with you.

—————————————————————————

5. the time where Roy told you how he felt

Phoebe had kicked up a fuss when she found out she was going to have to spend the night at her uncle Roy's, which was a massive surprise to everyone involved. It was well known that Phoebe loved spending time with her uncle Roy, and no matter what Molly or Roy said to her, they couldn't get a confession out of her as to why she didn't want to sleep at her uncle Roy's tonight.

When Molly had dropped her off, for the first time in years, Phoebe cried at the though of her mum going to work, and that told Roy enough that he was in for an eventful night.

He'd tried absolutely everything. He'd offered pizza, turkey dinosaurs, spaghetti, ice cream, popcorn and every favourite food she'd ever had in an attempt to wipe that frown off of her face, but nothing had worked. He'd even willingly been the princess in princess and dragons, put on a fucking tiara and tutu and she still didn't budge from her place on his couch. When bed time finally rolled around, he'd spent 6 hours in silence with Phoebe, a frown etched onto her poor, little face that all he wanted to do was turn into a smile.

The first sound he got out of Phoebe all day was a loud and shrill cry of your name at 4am. Roy ran for the first time in months from his bedroom to hers, terrified as to what could have his niece crying out for you in the early house of the morning. When he arrived on the scene, he was met with Phoebe sat upright in her bed, tears spilling down her cheeks and her hair sticking up in every direction. Her tiny fingers were death gripping a teddy bear that Roy had bought her when she was a baby and when she saw Roy in her doorway, her sobs only got louder.

Roy was quick to cross the length of the room, scooping his niece into his arms and holding her tightly against him, whispering soothing words into the crown of her head and running his fingers up and down her arm. Usually, this method would have Phoebe back asleep within half an hour, but as the clock pushed closer to 5am then 4am, he knew things were different this time. With each sob came a long pause, filled with shaking of shoulders and sniffles galore, and the occasional whimper of your name. Whatever had upset her, clearly wasn't going to be fixed with the usual uncle Roy remedy, and so Roy picked Phoebe up, slipping on his slippers and walking out his front door with his car keys in hand.

While the drive to your house had never been quick, it felt even longer then usual today. Phoebe spent the whole drive over still sniffling, and even though her tears had stopped flowing, the ache it caused in Roy's heart made it feel like they'd never stopped. In his whole life, he'd only seen phoebe this inconsolable a handful of times, and even then, she'd always been responsive to his attempts to find out what was wrong. The fact she kept calling out your name amidst her tears made his heart ache all the more.

It was no secret that since he first dropped phoebe off at your house all those weeks ago, the two of you had become practically attached at the hip. He loved phoebe, and as much as he tried to deny it, he loved you, and he loved that two of the most important women in his life loved each other, but he didn't think he was ever going to be brave enough to let you in in the way the he wanted to. Phoebe had happily voiced her opinions on the matter the last time he'd picked her up from your house, happily proclaiming that the two of you needed to get married yesterday and live happily ever after with 2 dogs and a family trip to Disney world. Roy had told her the two of you weren't going to get married and Phoebe had scoffed, saying that you'd said the exact same thing and she didn't understand why when you loved each other.

If he wasn't so distracted by how distraught Phoebe seemed, he'd have maybe taken the time to consider this was some wicked scheme she'd concocted.

When he pulled up outside your house, like he expected for 5am, all your lights were off, but with a still teary-eyed phoebe in his arms, he didn't think twice about knocking on your door with enough vigour you'd think his life depended on it. As far as Roy was concerned, it did.

Once he saw your hallway light flicker on, he let out a sigh of relief, a weight being lifted from his shoulders as you approached the door. The soft glow of the hallway light far behind you made you look more like the Angel Roy thought you were, your hands wiping at your eyes as you tried to wake up. Before you could ask what was going on, or why Roy and Phoebe were on your doorstep so early on this summers morning, Phoebe was throwing herself from Roy's arms with a cry of your name, blubbering into you shoulder the most words she'd said in the past 12 hours. "I had a nightmare."

In that moment as Roy watched you take his niece into your arms and comfort her more in 10 seconds then he had seemed to be able to do in an hour, he knew Phoebe was right that day in the car.

He was in love with you, and he was pretty sure you were in love with him too.

Roy closed your front door behind him, following behind you as you carried phoebe towards your bedroom. He couldn't hear what you were saying to her, but he could see how easily she relaxed in your hold - it made him relax knowing that whatever had plagued her nightmares was being calmed, even if it wasn't by him.

As you finally entered your bedroom, your bedsheets tousled from when you'd got up to answer the door minutes ago, Phoebe had dropped back to sleep in your arms. You weren't entirely sure if it was your words that had sent her back to sleep or if she'd tired herself out from crying so much, but you didn't dwell on it, tucking her into your bed and pressing a kiss to her head. Turning around, you found Roy leaning against your doorframe, the tight, grey shirt not leaving much to the imagination as to what was underneath it. Taking him by the hand, you pulled him back down your hallway and into your kitchen, leaving him in the doorway, you clicked the kettle on and pulled two large mugs out of your cupboard.

"Can't believe you got her talking." Roy whispered, suddenly very conscious of the fact it was 5:30 in the morning and you were no where near awake as he was. "I couldn't get a word out of her, except your fucking name."

You nodded as he spoke, putting a tea bag into each before and then, when the kettle had whistled and clicked, filling them 3/4 full of hot water. "So, she didn't tell you what her nightmare was about?"

"Wasn't even entirely sure it was just a nightmare until I heard her say it here."

"She thinks you're not going to let her see me anymore if you marry someone else." You'd both heard tearful stories from Phoebe about how scared she was that you two weren't talking anymore, but you'd never realised just how much it was affecting her. "I've talked to her about it before, you know, promised her I'd always be apart of her life even when you found someone you were going to marry, but I didn't think it was stressing her out this bad."

Roy didn't take a sip of his coffee when you passed it to him, instead looking at you confused while you took a long sip of yours. "What makes you think I'm going to marry someone else?"

"Well, you know what I mean Roy." You took another long sip of coffee, waking up more and more with each drink. "We're not going to get married, and I don't want phoebe thinking that you're not allowed to live your life and keep me in it."

"Why are we not getting married?" Roy's question had you stuttering and stumbling to try and make a sensible and coherent answer. It was one thing for him to show up at the crack of dawn and speak to you for the first time in weeks. It was another for him to now be suggesting he wanted to marry you. "I'm not sure if you realised, but I don't just go around introducing Phoebe and Molly to everyone... and I don't go around kissing just anyone either."

"Well, that's rich," you scoffed, using both hands to bring the warmth of your coffee closer to your face. "I'm not sure if you realised, but a normal person doesn't kiss someone like that, and then go no contact with them for nearly a month."

"Kiss someone like that, huh." Roy placed his untouched coffee down on your kitchen counter and took two steps closer to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he was now right in front of you. Though when you thought on it, he always had been. "And what exactly does that mean." Roy let his thumbs run over the exposed skin between your T-shirt and your pyjama shorts, the gentle motion sending tingles down your spine and causing you to arch yourself slightly into him. The smirk that formed on his face told you things were playing out how he wanted.

"You know," you whispered, letting Roy take your coffee cup from your hands and place it beside you on the counter. "Like," he gently cradled your hands in his larger ones, moving them to rest on his shoulders becket letting his fall back to your hips. "Like you want to be with them, like you-"

Roy cut your words off by pressing his lips to yours, using the momentum of his movement to tilt your head back, allowing him to get a better angle as he pushed his tongue past your lips. Quickly, you pushed him off of you, not giving him the chance to get a word in edge ways before you began to speak. "You can't keep kissing me like that, or at all actually, if you don't want this, us, whatever we are, to become something. Because I want it to become something." Jamie's words echoed though your head. Maybe you had to be the one to show Roy that it was okay to be soft sometimes, to let people in.

"I love how kind you are beneath all the gruff and cold exterior you try to put up. I love how fiercely you love Molly and Phoebe. I love how you leave little sticky notes on my office door so I don't forget to do things. I love how you bring me coffee in the mornings when you get your own. I love that you buy me lunch and get all grumpy when someone else tries to add on to the order." Sweeping your thumb across the middle of his brown, you brushed away the tension that had clearly been building there since the moment you'd pushed away from his kiss. "I love how your face gets all scrunched up when your confused and how you have the most wonderful smile I've ever seen but only let the people you love get a glimpse at it. I- I love you, Roy, but I can't handle you liking me one minute and ignoring me the next. I need you to open up to me about what's going on inside you head."

Roy pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving one hand up to cradle your face. If his heart wasn't already so full of you, it would've been now. Even though he'd known he was in love with you before this conversation in your kitchen, it had really consolidated to him why he was in love with you. You loved Roy Kent, Phoebe's uncle, lunch buyer and wonderful smiler.

"I've never been told I have a wonderful smile before." He pressed another kiss though this time it was to your temple, and the another to the end of your brow. "That's probably because you're right, I only show it to the people I love." Another kiss was pressed just below your eye, the scratchiness of his beard against your cheeks eliciting a giggle from you. "And I really fucking love you."

Roy leaned in for another, proper, kiss, though you dodged it allowing it to land on your cheek instead. "Is there anything else you wanted to say?"

Roy let out a loud groan, your head thrown back in laughter at the image before you. He shook his head at you though the wide and bright smile you loved never left his face. "I'm sorry I ignored you for 3 and a half weeks because I was a grumpy sod who couldn't talk about his feelings like a fucking grown up."

You hummed happily, nudging your nose against his, a smile now curled onto your own lips. "Yeah, that'll do just nice." Standing on the tips of your toes, you wrapped both your arms around his neck, pulling the two of you together. "Now, C'mere."

Roy happily complied, pressing his lips firmly to your own in a mess of groans and tongue, only pulling apart when you couldn't contain your smile any longer. Even then, he pressed a series of quick kisses to your lips moving them up across your cheek, along the tip of your ear and then down the side of your neck. You tilted your head to rest against his left shoulder, giving him better access to the right side of your neck, but before things could escalate any further, you gently pushed him away from you. "Phoebe is a room away."

"You've got a guest bedroom though, right?" Roy purred, resuming his attack on your neck, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

"She'll be up in an hour or so." You tried to deter Roy further although you didn't particularly have your heart in it, wanting more then anything to continue what you'd started now that the pair of you had everything out in the open.

"I can do a lot in half that time." He countered, his grip on you tightening a fraction and the kisses he was pressing against your neck now having scrapes of teeth to them.

Grabbing Roy by the chin, you turned him to face you, pressing a soft and slow kiss to his lips. "Please, with what I've got in mind, it's going to take at least twice the time we have." You revelled in the look of pleasant surprise that crossed Roy's features, pressing another kiss to his lips. Now that that was something you could do whenever you wanted, you weren't sure you were ever going to stop; he was just so kissable. "Want to help me make breakfast?"

"Where do you need me?"

You and Roy danced seamlessly around each other as you prepared breakfast for the two of you and Phoebe, sneaking kisses between exchanges of ingredients or just because you could. When things were nearly ready and it was just past 7am, you went to wake Phoebe up, careful not to startle her after the long night she'd had. Since you hadn't discussed with Roy anything about you telling Phoebe, you didn't mention it, letting her sandwich herself between the two of you as you ate breakfast together over reruns of adventure time.

Part of you couldn't believe that everything had pretty much worked out how you wanted it. Sure, it wasn't a nice feeling when Roy left you in the dark after sweeping you off your feet, but ultimately, the two of you were together, and with Phoebe snuggled between the two of you on your couch, you had a glimpse of the domestic life you'd dreamed of.

Roy was thinking something similar, looking at you and phoebe beside him. Something so simple as eating breakfast together had him dreaming of a future, that a few months ago, he never would've thought would be within his grasp. He could already picture a scene like this but with you slightly older, and still as beautiful as ever, two kids snuggled between you and a dog or 3 curled up at his feet. He hoped one day the image would be as real as the one before him right now.

"Shit, what time is it?"

"8am."

"We need to get going soon." Both you and Phoebe turned to Roy in confusion, heads similarly tilted in a way that had him fawning over the both of you. "Your mum is picking you up at 9am and you need to be dressed and ready to go, Pheeb's."

"Tell Molly to pick her up from here," you said, taking Phoebe's empty plate and stacking it on top of your own. Placing them both down on the coffee table, you turned to Phoebe with a soft smile. "There T-shirts, jeans and some shoes in my wardrobe, next to where I keep your pj's, yeah? And you know where your tooth brush is, don't you?" Phoebe nodded her head, still chewing her food, but with a kissed pressed to her temple, she was sprinting off in the direction your bedroom.

"You have day clothes here for phoebe? As well as pyjamas?" Roy whispered, a bright smile forming on his face for the millionth time this morning. This was a sight you were never going to get sick of.

"Yeah. I picked the day clothes up when you asked me to pick her up from school the first time, and then after you and Molly took her home after she slept over, I figured it couldn't hurt to also get a tooth brush and some other stuff. Just incase she ever needed them."

You'd never seen so much love and adoration in one persons eyes. "I fucking love you, did you know?"

Before you could respond, the padding of feet all the way down your hallway and across your living room filled your ears. "So you are getting Married?"

a/n : if you made it this far hello!! thank you for reading my first ted lasso fic, feel free to leave feedback and/or send in a request to my inbox!! much love <33 mwah

#ted lasso x reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent one shot #roy kent

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allzelemonz · 7 months

Text

Sit Still: Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 6, Dubcon/Frottage Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Slight dubcon, frottage, sex with clothes on, grinding, kissing, neck kissing, marking, low honor Arthur Morgan, dominate Arthur and submissive Reader, sleeping, slight cuddling Summary: With the whole camp noticing Arthur’s darker turn recently, Dutch sent you out to keep an eye on him.

The gang isn’t entirely sure what’s been going on with Arthur. All Miss Grimshaw told was that he’d told Mary-Beth that he’d been killing people without reason. Even Dutch is concerned, shutting himself and Hosea in his tent to talk about their son. You heard John telling Abigail not to let Jack near him for now. Kieran’s been shyer around him. Uncle hasn’t asked him for money. Something is wrong with the Van der Linde work horse, his mind isn’t as it should be.

So being alone with him is a little unnerving.

Dutch warned you explicitly before you left for this overnight job. “Watch him.” He said. “Tell me what you think.”

You glance up at Arthur. His eyes are fixed on the fire as he pokes it with a stick. He seems fine right now and he was pleasant enough on the ride out, telling a few jokes and making idle conversation. Dutch trusted you with this little ruse, a half baked job to observe Arthur’s mental state, because he knows you can handle yourself. You could fight him off at the very least, get to your horse, and you can watch him unlike Micah or Bill.

Still, your heart races.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Arthur mutters, eyes fixing on you as he sits back on his bedroll across the fire. “Somethin’ Dutch said?”

Your breath hitches but you shake it, keeping your cool. “Just cold out here, should’ve worn a better coat.”

Arthur hums, his eyes boring into you so hard you can feel it.

He just seems different, very much not himself. You know Arthur well enough to know he’s not usually the kind of man to feel so off putting. He’s an outlaw, sure, but he’s usually the type you’d feel safe sharing a camp with. Right now you have half a mind to think he might slit your throat in your sleep. But it’s Arthur, he wouldn’t do anything like that. He wouldn’t.

“Cold, huh?”

You meet his eyes for a moment, that same bright color shaded by the dark flames. They look menacing somehow, even though you’ve seen them scrunched with laughter and accompanied by flushed cheeks. You just nod.

“Suppose I am too.” He says without a hint of a shiver. “Maybe we should share, keep each other warm.”

You feel a twinge in your chest. Share? With Arthur? No doubt you’ve thought about it, cuddling up to him in his tent on cold nights at camp. And you especially thought about it when you were up in Colter. But now, with the way Arthur’s been these past few weeks, the thought makes you nervous.

“I’m alright, Arthur.”

“No.” He says gruffly. “I insist.”

You stare for a moment. Insist?

Then Arthur moves, standing and walking off into the dark. You assume he goes to take a piss, not overly concerned about his whereabouts. He’s too far away to see for a while so you give yourself time to think. Arthur Morgan… insisting?

It happens fast, hands shoving your shoulders and weight on top of you before you can do anything. You’re pinned to your bedroll and when you look up, it’s Arthur’s dazzling eyes looking down at you. He’s sitting on your legs, just below your gunbelt, his hands holding your wrists on either side of your head.

You swallow your nerves before you speak. “Arthur?”

He shushes you, soft and smooth, as he moves your wrists together so he can hold them with one hand. You don’t have the present mind to protest anyway. With his newly free hand, he unbuckles your gunbelt and you mindlessly lift your hips to let him pull it off.

“Good boy.” He mutters, his hand settling on your stomach. “Sit still fer me.”

You don’t dare move when he lets your wrists go. Arthur could kill you in a second if he really wanted to. Even if you still had your guns, no one is a faster draw than him. He shifts up your legs a little, leaning forward so his body covers yours. Your mouth goes dry when you feel it, Arthur’s dick pressing into your own. It’s hard, straining against his pants as he begins to grind into you. He hardly bothers to spare you of his weight, leaning hard into you and his arms only serving to sit beside your head as he breathes against your neck. His legs are spread over you, leaving only your own legs as a probable means of escape.

But do you want to?

Arthur’s an attractive man, usually a good one too. The Arthur you know would have asked before pinning you down, he would’ve been more gentle about it. But this… this feels good too. Arthur’s dick rubbing yours through two layers of pants has already gotten you half hard, and when you feel his lips at your neck, you become solid. Arthur groans against your skin, his hips digging against yours further and faster. He’s sloppy, needy, and you wonder why he doesn’t just shed the clothes keeping you apart.

In a way, you’re thankful he doesn’t.

“Ya feel good, boy.” He murmurs, his lips pressing wet, hot kisses along your neck.

“Arthur…”

He shushes you again, moving his head to kiss you properly. He’s warm and he tastes so deeply of whiskey you have to wonder if he’s drunk. The movement of his hips distracts you before you can think much about it. Fast, impossible good ruts that make your clothes rub heavenly against your sensitive dick. And when paired with Arthur’s rough lips on your own and the force of it all, you feel yourself getting close.

Arthur pulls away from the kiss, sitting up slightly as his hands return to hold your wrists. You haven’t moved them, you’ve barely moved at all. Only the slight jut of your hips or the squirming of your legs, nothing Arthur has noticed. He grinds down against you, a low groan coming out of him and you have to hold your own expressions in.

“Knew you’d be good.” He mutters. “Just wait ‘til I do this proper.”

You feel a hitch in your throat, then the waves over take you as Arthur ruts faster. You grind up into him and you can hear him chuckle as he leans down to suck a mark into your neck. Your vision blurs a bit as you come down. There’s a new feeling that accompanies the same heavy weight of Arthur, a wet warmth in your pants. Arthur has drooped into you, his breathing slow and steady and his arms wrapped around you. Timidly, you move your arms around him once you hear the gentle snores.

You have no idea what you’ll tell Dutch now.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #x reader #x male reader #fictober #kinktober

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m0nsterqzzz · 4 months

Text

✦ The Little Things ✦

pairing: kate bishop x gn!reader

summary: Kate loses the bracelet her loving partner made for her when they first started dating and panics maybe a bit more then she should

warnings: panic attacks, a little bit of cussing, mentions of killing ig?

a/n: so this is unimportant but i wanted to say that i really wanted to do this story as what happened when i got the inspo (my ex was panicking over losing the bracelet i made her when we were dating) but decided to go with the more fluffy version lol. enjoy kate being so adorable. also, i'm pretty sure i used they/them when i had to use pronouns so if theres anything other then that, let me know. and, I'm literally so terrible at writing endings so if you guys have any tips on how to end a fluff or angst oneshot, it would be greatly appreciated

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

When you wake up, you're wrapped in your girlfriend's arms. Kate just got home from spending the weekend with her mother, and apparently she got to the Compound while you were asleep last night. Your back is up against her front, and her hand is gently placed on an area of exposed skin on your hip.

You turn around on the bed, placing your head against Kate's chest. She stirs a bit, but seems to still be asleep as she moves a hand to cradle the back of your head.

Suddenly, the sound of harsh knocking on your bedroom door makes you both sit up, now very alert as you both look around. “Kate!” You hear Clint's voice from the other side of the door, and Kate smiles. You roll your eyes, laying back down and trying to pull her with you. She gets up off the bed, and you groan and hold her pillow close to you. She opens the door for Clint, and his eyes fall to you before going back to Kate. “We got a mission Bishop. Suit up.” That makes you sit up, and you glare at the bowman. “She just got back. Why do you hate me Barton?” He pretends to think about it for a moment before he shrugs and begins walking away. “I’ll go make you a list!” He calls over his shoulder, and you groan and let your face drop into the pillows again.

Clint Barton is your best friend. You met him through your father Tony, and he was instantly like an uncle to you the same way Natasha was like a mother to you. He was all you had when both your father and Natasha died, but that all changed when he introduced you to Kate.

You watch as she goes to the closet for her freshly clean suit, and then sheds her pajamas in order to get ready for the mission. She hums a tune as she does, and then goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair. You get out of bed and follow, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind as she brushes her teeth, still humming. The brunette leans into your arms, and you notice the humming to be of “Let's Get Married” by the Bleachers. You shouldn’t be surprised. She sings it to you at any chance.

She puts on her shoes- the tennis shoes Clint bought her after a long talk about how she cannot wear her purple converse while fighting bad guys- and then presses a small kiss to your nose. “You missed.” You playfully complain, and she chuckles before kissing your lips.

She's on her way to the door when she turns back around, and you're expecting a hug. Instead, she runs straight past you and to her nightstand. She grabs something off of it, and you notice it as the bracelet you made her a year ago. You had been nervous to give it to her, especially since it is something an eight year old could have made, but she just smiled brightly and put it around her right wrist. She never takes it off now, unless she's in the shower or sleeping. She says it is her good luck charm, and you feel happy that a bracelet with clay beads of different shades of purple that says, “My Katie” gives her good luck when she's out risking her life.

She gives you a small hug, and then kisses you on the lips before speeding out the door.

You sigh, an everlasting smile and blush on your face as you let your body fall backwards onto the bed. Todays your day off from missions, and it was supposed to be a you and Kate day so now that the Kate part of it is not here, you try to figure out what to do. You don’t know where the mission is, how long it’ll take, what the risks are, what time she’ll be back, hell you don’t even know what it’s for and you silently cuss out Clint in your head for not giving you details to settle your head.

As if on cue, you get a message.

bird brain ��:

Simple mission, take down a few guys and grab the intel from the lowest level of the building.

It’s not too dangerous as long as she doesn’t decide to pull a Kate and not listen to me.

We’ll be home in a few hours and you can take your lover girl back.

She’s already driving me crazy and we’re on the jet ride there.

Chill out and rest your mind kid.

I’ll keep her safe.

You smile. Even though Kate can sometimes forget to give you the details, Clint never fails to reassure you he’ll keep your girl safe.

With your mind now at slight peace, you get up and make your way down the hall to Wanda’s room. Today is her day off, also known as the perfect day to go bother her. After that, you go bother Fury, only leaving his office when he threatens to send you on a mission. By then it’s lunch, and you look to the clock, expecting to see that a few hours have passed.

So, Kate left at 9am.

And it is currently………11am.

You sigh, pulling out a pan and deciding to make the team breakfast. And by team, you mean you and Wanda.

Meanwhile, with Kate and Clint.

She fucking pulled a Kate.

Clint simply told her to keep guard by the doors while he grabbed the info and alert him if anyone showed. She did that for about 4 minutes.

She then saw a bird, a blue bird, and it made her think of you so she did the only understandable thing. Left her post and followed the bird all the way outside of the building. It’s only when she hears her partner's voice coming over the ear piece in her ear yell, “Where the hell are you Kate?!” does she run back to the building, seeing the man being beaten by a few guards. She grimaces, pulling out an arrow and lining it up with her bow. She shots one in the arm, and suddenly all the attention is on her as she widens her eyes. “Sorry dude!” She says loudly, backing up with a nervous chuckle. “Maybe we can talk this out right? How about we make a deal? You let my partner go, and we’ll walk away from this peacefully. Alright?”

Clint groans from the ground. “No! We will not!” He yells, sitting up and grabbing his own bow.

The guards are large and strong looking, but even strength like theirs can’t go against an arrow flying into their skull. He does that to the rest of them, and then takes a deep breath and glares at Kate. She rubs the back of her neck with a nervous smile. “So, now that that’s over……wanna grab some lunch or something?”

He scoffs, groaning in pain as he stands up. She knows she’s going to be barated on the way home. They begin the walk back to the quinjet, and Kate is half listening to his rant as she reaches her hand to play with the bracelet on her arm.

The moment Kate realizes her bracelet is no longer on her right wrist, she drops the bow and arrow on the ground.

Clint turns to look at her and hisses, “What the hell are you doing Bishop? Pick up your bow and let's go!” She barely hears him though, as she's too busy checking her pockets and then the pebbled floor underneath her. He seems to notice her panic, and his voice and face softens as he tries to ask her more calmly, “What's wrong Kate?” She mumbles something, shaking her head and then looking at the building they just left. “Did you leave something in there?” She isn’t listening anymore, but he gets his answer when she takes off towards the building. He sighs and follows.

She scans the floors of the halls, tears filling her eyes when she doesn’t see the purple beads anywhere. Her breathing is beginning to get faster, and Clint tries his best to get her to stop for a second and take a deep breath. She does stop, but it’s only because she realizes a sob and continues hyperventilating.

“Kate. Kate, look at me.” She does, and he panics even more when he sees the tears. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what needs fixing.” He attempts a chuckle. She tries her best to breathe, but between the sobbing and erratic breathing, she barely gets out a weak, “M-my bracelet.”

His eyes widen. He knows how much the jewelry means to her, having almost been shot by an arrow when he teasingly took it one day. He looks on both wrists and then the floor around them, still trying to calm her down. It might seem childish, but that bracelet is everything to Kate. When she has to do stuff like missions, or visiting her mom and she can’t take you (her person), the bracelet is the next best thing. You’re her anchor, but there are times in life where you can’t be there. So the bracelet is there. For her to fidget with, or hold close to her heart as if it’s her holding you close to her.

She leans up against the wall, letting her body slide down it as she hyperventilates. “I-I need it.” He nods, looking into her brown eyes and stating firmly, “I know katie. I know. And I know the bracelet is important but I need you to listen to me right now.” She looks up to his face, hand going to her chest to scratch at it as if it’s going to help her breath. He holds her hands in his own. “We’re gonna get on the quinjet, go home to see your partner, and you’re going to feel so much better. The bracelet is to remind you of them right?” She nods repeatedly. “Then we’ll take you to them. Just think about them Katie.”

He lifts her off of the floor, one of her arms over his shoulder as her legs wobble and she lets him help her walk to the jet. “It’s alright Kate. I’m here. It’s all gonna be alright.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Back home, you're eating ice cream in bed when your phone rings. It’s Clint, and you instantly perk up in excitement. “Hey birdman, are you guys on your way home?”

He sighs, looking at Kate who's now curled up in the corner of the quinjet, knees to her chest and mumbling this to herself. “It’s Kate.” In retrospect, he probably should've been more detailed and not used the sentence that people only use when someone they care about is seriously hurt.

“какого черта? Ты сказал, что защитишь ее! ты глупый, глупый человек! если она не выживет, я доберусь до тебя раньше, чем это сделает карма!” His eyes widen at your yelling and he holds the phone a bit away to protect his eardrum. “Now calm down kid, she just had a panic attack. She seems to be doing alright now but I just wanted to let you know so you can keep an eye on her when we get home in…..4 minutes.” You sigh, but there's still panic in you when you wonder what could have brought on a panic attack. “What brought it on?”

Translation: what the fuck? You said you would protect her! you stupid, stupid man! if she doesn't make it, I'll get to you before karma ever will!

It sounds like he’s speaking to someone, probably Kate, before he says, “She lost her bracelet.”

You take a minute to think about it before you begin to giggle. You're not laughing at her having a panic attack, it’s more of a “that’s adorable and sad at the same time” kind of giggle. “Okay. tell her I love her and I’ll see her soon.” You hang up and think for a minute before grabbing the clay beads from under your bed.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It doesn’t take that long to make, and by the time the quinjet is landing on the field outside of the compound, you have a bracelet that looks exactly like Kate’s old one.

You make your way outside, grinning at the sight of your girlfriend. She’s walking by herself now, her breathing has gone back to normal, and the only tears on her face are dry. You speed up, and you’re practically sprinting by the time you make it into her arms. She chuckles and holds you close, hiding her head in the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry my love.”

You giggle. “What’s there to be sorry for Katie?” She sighs, pulling away from you to lift up her sleeve and show her bare wrist. “I lost my bracelet.” She looks ready to cry again, so you pull her into another hug and cradle her head. “I know honey. But apologies are for when you’ve done something wrong.” You assure, but she’s not having it.

“But I lost the gift you gave me! One of my favorite gifts of all time! My lucky charm!” You sigh, flipping over the hand of hers that you’ve been holding so her palm is facing the sky and putting the new bracelet in it. “I made you a new one Katie. And this one can hold just as much love and luck if you want it to.” She grins, holding the bracelet close to her heart like she used to do with the other one as she asks, “You promise?” “Promise what?” “That it’s made with just as much love and luck as the first one?” You giggle and caress her face. “I promise Katie.”

Kate Bishop is a simple girl. Things like purple bracelets, pizza, dogs, and movie nights, will make the brunette happy for at least a week. So when you began dating, you made it your mission to involve at least one of those things in your guy’s daily lives so she could be the happiest she could be. Whether it’s replacing her favorite piece of jewelry, eating pizza three nights in a row, or having a movie night on your day off, watching whatever films she wants and stuffing yourselves full of candy. You’d do it all a million times over if it meant your girl would be happy. Because you know she’d do the same for you.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop #marvel x reader #marvel x you #fluff

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ladykailitha · 8 months

Text

Fake Boyfriend Part 1

This was going to be an AO3 exclusive until I found out I couldn't do the strikethrough coding for the titles over there and until I think of one that works as well as this one does, it goes here first. There is a second part that will be posted on Tuesday as it got a tad too long for Tumblr (clocking out at over 3k).

Summary: After most of the older teens have gone off to college, Eddie goes over to Steve's to hang out. When he finds Steve on the phone with one of his co-workers, he tells Steve to pretend Eddie is his boyfriend to get the guy to back off via notes on his notebook. It works better than he could possibly dream as the more Steve describes his "boyfriend" the more it sounds real.

***

Eddie let himself into the Harrington mansion like he always did, backpack slung over his shoulder. Steve and he was long since past caring about knocking on each others’ houses’ doors. Bedrooms on the other hand were sacrosanct and closed doors were to be respected at all times, but their houses? Open invitation. Always.

He went straight to the kitchen because if Steve was going to be anywhere in that labyrinthine house of his, it was going to be the kitchen. He entered through the open doorway just as Steve snapped.

“Fuck you!” he growled.

Eddie frowned. “Hey!”

Steve turned and he could see that Steve was on the phone with someone. The other man mouthed, ‘Sorry!’ when he spotted Eddie in the doorway.

“I gave you this number for work purposes only,” Steve continued with a sigh. “I’m just not interested in you, Caleb. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Understanding slowly dawned over Eddie. He knew who Steve was talking to now. Caleb worked at the same hair salon Steve did and was constant thorn in Steve’s side. Always flirting with him and just generally making Steve uncomfortable.

He ripped the backpack off of his shoulder and started digging around. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. He turned to a blank page and wrote: TELL HIM YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND

Steve looked at the sign with a frown of confusion. ‘But I don’t’ he mouthed back.

Eddie pointed at himself.

Steve chewed on his thumb for a moment before he nodded. “Caleb!” he said interrupting the other man’s stream of consciousness that he was just spewing at Steve on the end of the line. “Look. I didn’t want to have to pull this card because ‘no’ is a complete sentence, but I have a boyfriend.”

Eddie gave him a thumbs up.

“I haven’t brought him up before because he’s not out–”

Eddie scoffed, smirking with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean we’re not out as a couple to our friends and family,” Steve amended, sticking his tongue out at him. “Of course they know I’m bisexual and he’s gay, they just don’t know that we’ve been dating.”

That was certainly true, especially considering that they weren’t actually dating.

Eddie scribbled another note: WAYNE

“Well,” Steve said with a huff of laughter, “his uncle knows, but my parents don’t.”

Eddie started on another note, but Steve beat him to it. “It’s a small house and thin walls, the dude was going to find out sooner or later.”

Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock.

Steve laughed. “And have my parents walk in on us? Fuck that. I trust his Uncle Wayne way more than I do my parents.”

Eddie looked down at the half-written message that would have spelled out TRUST with a fond smile on his face.

Steve rolled his eyes. “What do you mean you want me to prove he exists? Like describe him or something?”

Eddie jotted down another note: PERSISTANT BASTARD

Steve slammed a hand over his mouth to cover the laugh that bubbled to his lips.

He cleared his throat. “So are we talking looks or personality?” he asked. “Because I could go on about both.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, causing Steve’s cheeks flush.

“Looks?” Steve asked, his voice a little high at the absurdity of it all. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. He’s got the most amazingly soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen outside of the movies. I’ve heard people describe them as doe-eyed or puppy-dog eyes. They aren’t bad descriptions, just... not close enough. I don’t think there is a word or phrase that matches their glory.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of mouth to hide his embarrassment. Steve took a step toward him.

“He has long hair in soft curly locks that frame his face,” Steve continued and Eddie dropped the aforementioned lock, choosing to duck his head, and look away, rocking back on his heels.

Steve took another step forward. “He has these dimples that just light up his whole countenance when he smiles. They are the single most kissable part of his face, if you don’t include his lips.”

Eddie’s mind was spinning out of control, because there was no way Steve was making this up on the spot. These had to be things Steve had actually thought about.

But Steve wasn’t done talking. “He’s whipcord thin, but don’t let that fool you. He is strong, so strong.”

Eddie head jerked up and stared at Steve in amazement.

The other boy ducked his head, twirling his fingers around the phone cord. “I told you could go on and on about his looks, man. I could tell you about how long his eyelashes are or his legs that give him this causal sensuality that should be fucking illegal.”

Eddie didn’t think he could get any redder. He was so, so wrong.

“You want me to wax poetic about his personality now?” Steve asked incredulously. “No, I’m not describing Jon Bon Jovi. He’d be offended at the comparison. Eddie Van Halen is closer to the mark, or maybe Kirk Hemmett if you really make him blush.”

Cue Eddie’s blush burning his ears and flushing his throat; a part of his body that was refusing to do what it was supposed to and fucking allow breath to enter his lungs.

“What’s he like?” Steve breathed and Eddie was instantly jealous of his ability to do so. “He is so smart.”

Eddie snorted divisively.

“The school system may have failed him more times then I care to count,” Steve insisted, “but god, he is so clever, coming up with stories on fly. He has all this knowledge of so many things. He learned elvish and is learning dwarfish.” He snorted. “Because he can.”

Eddie blushed. Even his friends from Hellfire and Corroded Coffin thought he was a little insane trying to learn those languages. Not Steve, apparently.

“He uses it for his D&D games–campaigns, sorry,” Steve said, more to Eddie then to Caleb. Eddie mouthed ‘It’s okay.’ And Steve lit up with the brightest smile.

He took another step forward. “You know those kids that come into the store all the time?” Steve burst out laughing. “Yes, my kids. He loves them as much as I do. Maybe even more.”

Eddie scrambled to write another note: NOT POSSIBLE

Steve blushed this time. “Understands them better, certainly.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and half shrugged. That was fair.

“He DMs for them every week,” Steve continued. “DM? Oh that stands for dungeon master. It’s like the storyteller or master of the story. He sets the path for the characters to follow or blatantly ignore.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh.

“He does the voices for each person the party meets and it always makes me laugh,” Steve said. “My favorite is the voice he did for the princess. I don’t think there was a dry eye from all the laughing everyone was doing.”

Eddie grinned. That was his favorite, too. He had done it to make Steve laugh, the fact that it had made everyone else laugh too was just icing on the cake.

“Which, of course, impressed Dustin,” Steve said. He paused. “Oh Dustin is the one with curly hair and those hats.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. That’s another strike against this Caleb dude, not knowing the names of Steve’s kids. Like they came as a packaged deal. Everyone knew that.

Steve cleared his throat and looked down as he too felt Caleb’s disinterest keenly as well. “Anyway, anyone who can impress that little butthead is number one in my book.”

Eddie smiled tenderly at Steve before he jotted down a note again. YOU IMPRESS HIM TOO.

Steve blushed. “He can take his talent for story telling into song writing as well. He might not be the singer of his band–” There was another pause. “Yeah, an honest to god, plays at The Hideout every Tuesday metal band. He plays guitar. Lead, not rhythm. His best friend Jeff is rhythm guitar and their lead singer. He can read music and learn a song by ear. Do you know how fucking rare that is? To be able to do both? Trust me, it’s rare, okay?”

“Look, Caleb,” Steve growled, “don’t get pissy with me. You asked me describe my boyfriend. I warned you that I could go on and on.”

Eddie could barely breathe. This was starting to feel less like an excuse to get this asshole to stop harassing Steve and more and more real with every compliment that came out of his friend’s mouth.

Steve’s own breath caught in his chest. He looked directly at Eddie, so full of adoration, Eddie was sure his heart full on stopped.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Steve murmured, “of course I love him. God, how could I not. He means everything to me.” He tried to step forward but the cord got caught in his fingers, so he unwrapped it and took a final step toward Eddie. The cord was now taut, stretched as far as it could go.

Eddie could tell that the scant two feet between them was too far for Steve, but he was tethered to phone. He knew that that ache and longing in Steve’s face mirrored his own expression.

“And I am so grateful I get to call him mine...” Steve finished, his breath shallow as he fought to get his heart rate under control.

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Part 2

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #fake relationship #for all of ten minutes #because they dorks are that far gone for each other

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sheisjoeschateau · 14 days

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part X

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER X WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, more angst, mention of dr*g abuse during childhood trauma, mentions of death and injuries, Max in a coma, fearful tears, shared sadness, major end-of-the-world terror talk. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As we dive deeper into just how in love Steve and Bauman continue to fall...we also dive deeper into darkness.

We get a glimpse into the childhood past of Bauman Squared.

Steve finally gets to laugh again with his kids -- and with the girl he wants to have his own kids with one day.

Dr. Owens comes back, but it's not why they expected. Erica is given the hardest burden of all. Robin & Eddie are the whacky aunt and uncle that everyone needed and basically get shit back on track while being thrown hard news. Argyle is actually just a kind dude. Nancy is pulling away, while Jonathan finally feels the gut-punching gravity of what he is losing. Jopper is still carrying the weight of both worlds.

And surprise, b*tches: DIMITRI IS BACK AND BOY IS HE SOOO BACK.

Lastly: chicken nuggets. That is all.

WHILE THIS IS A FANFICTION STORY: IT IS STILL MY WRITING. PLEASE RIGHTFULLY CREDIT ME WHEN REPOSTING OR SHARING. I DO NOT GRANT YOU PERMISSION TO POST MY WRITING AS YOUR OWN. - MISHA @sheisjoeschateau PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

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OH SO WE DO LOVE STEVE | Chapter X

“Why do I feel like this is some sort of twisted intervention?”

Erica Sinclair stood in the kitchen next to Murray as he cooked up something to share with a table of adults and teens — plus her.

“In a way, it is,” Murray responded to her as he stirred his ingredients.

“...okayyyy,” Erica sassed, suspiciously. “...then why do you want me here but not my brother or my other friends?”

Murray rolled his eyes. Erica’s attitude was truly the one thing that could bring Murray’s entire mental empire crumbling down like a tower of cards being blown over by a gust of wind. He pointed his spatula in her direction.

“Think of it this way, kiddo,” he said through a wry, condescending smirk. “It’s like getting invited to sit at the adults’ table instead of the kids’ table for thanksgiving. And you’re the only one we’re inviting before you get to go up there and hang out with your little friends. Alright?”

Erica narrowed her eyes. “What do I need to know that they don’t?”

Sauce dripped from the spatula as he stared at her. Christ, she was relentless. Then again…at least she seemed somewhat perturbed by the idea of knowing things before her brother and their friends. That was pretty damn selfless for Erica Sinclair. She cocked an eyebrow at Murray — who squinted back at her.

“Okay, why are you not as willing about this as I thought you’d be…”

“Look,” Erica said, crossing her arms. “If I’m going to be made to keep a secret? I need to know all the facts first. Especially if I have to keep it from my brother. And Steve. And Bauman.”

Murray sighed through his nose. She was right. Mature, and right.

“I don’t want you to keep it a secret for good,” Murray clarified, speaking slowly. “I just — we just need you to be made aware of some things before we bring it to everyone else’s attention. And truth be told? Harrington needs a break. So does my niece. And your friends? They need some time with mom and dad. You do, too. But right now? You’re the party member in charge of taking on some big information before we spread it to the rest of them. And quite frankly? I’m counting on you to help me — and the rest of us — help break it to them. Got it?”

Erica let all of that land, her guarded expression softening into one of civil understanding. She pursed her lips, considering this. Finally, she nodded.

“Alright. Deal.”

Murray shot her a thumbs up, resuming his cooking.

“That’s really lumpy,” Erica pointed to his saucepan with a soured expression.

“Ohforheaven'ssake —”

__________________________

Robin had taken on laundry duty on Steve’s behalf, knowing that Jonathan intended to talk with him. Which is why she’d asked Nancy to help her with it, and it has turned out to be a good thing.

Nancy was clearly fraying at the seams. There was a lot going through her mind, and it was all spiraling fast. She needed someone to talk to, but none of her options seemed safe.

She had no idea how or when to break everything she had been feeling to Steve.

Her relationship with Jonathan was so tense and strained, any conversation shared with him had just blown up.

And her mom would need to know everything about the upside down, in order to give her proper advice…and at this rate, that option seemed to have no place in this world.

She couldn’t go to Joyce, because that’s Jonathan’s mom.

Hopper and Murray were out of the question.

She wasn’t close enough with Eddie to even consider it.

And Argyle? Well, he’d said about as much as he could say. Far more than what she’d expected, if she was being honest.

Nancy’s only other option was Robin Buckley.

“God, I swear — the air’s a disease at this point.”

Robin had sat next to Nancy on the porch, carrying the laundry basket. Nancy quickly wiped a few stray tears, which Robin pretended not to notice – even when Nancy shot her a very forced, tight-lipped grin.

“Yeah,” Nancy chuckled wetly. “It’s uhh, yeah. Plagued at this point. Thanks, Vecna.”

Robin nodded with a smirk. “Yeah. Thanks a lot, Vecna. Fuck you, man.”

That made Nancy giggle, which Robin was grateful to see. She decided to start off slow, not wanting to force anything. After all, clearly Nancy was clearly going through it. And the way she and Robin had started off? Not great. Buckley was definitely not trying to push her luck. Sure, the two of them had gotten along super well as time passed, truly becoming friends while living in Steve’s house. But they weren’t exactly best friends. Friends for sure. But not like Nancy and Barb had been. Not even close.

“You know,” Robin mused. “Sometimes, I think back to high school and how…I never really had a best friend while I was there. Not like you did.”

That made Nancy turn to look at her, curiosity radiating for her bright blue eyes.

“You and Barb,” Robin explained. “You two were thick as thieves. She always made sure to take extra notes in Click’s class for you.”

Nancy’s eyes shone with melancholy fondness. “She did…?”

“Yeah,” Robin smiled. “Always. Saved them on little flashcards and everything. She was always like, ‘I gotta make sure I get this for Nance.’ Or whenever something crazy went down in the classroom, I could tell she was just itching to tell you about during lunch or after school.”

Nancy beamed at that. She shook her head, grinning widely. “God, I swear… Barb was like — like that little old lady who couldn’t help but wanna gossip. Even though she hated drama, she loved it at the same time. As long as it wasn’t hers or ours.”

“That totally tracks,” Robin snorted. “What an icon, really.”

“Schyeah,” Nancy giggled wholeheartedly. “Yeah, she…she was the best.”

Robin watched as Nancy gnawed at her lip, feeling the wave of sadness wash over her.

“I just wish…” Nancy murmured, voice shaky. “Just wish that I could…talk to her sometimes, you know? Not just to tell her how sorry I am. For everything that happened before she…”

Nancy’s voice trailed off. Robin dared to reach over and touch her shoulder, relieved when Nancy didn’t push her away or tense underneath her touch.

“I just wanna ask her questions,” Nancy’s voice shook. “So many questions, like…like the way we used to. As best friends. About — everything. Life, family, love…friends…the end of the fucking world…”

Robin nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Because Robin did know. Whenever she had become best friends with Steve, it had made her world significantly brighter. Her heart was full, and her soul had been lifted out of its constant anxiety-ridden state. Robin had been so closed off to bonding with anyone, especially the likes of Steve Harrington. Little did she know, that guy would end up being her truest best friend and confidant. The one she could lean on, tell anything to and count on for the rest of her life. However short that might be, given the end of the world… But she had Steve by her side, trusting him with every secret she had and her literal life in his hands.

Barb had been that for Nancy. But she was gone.

“I don’t know what to do,” Nancy’s voice cracked. She looked over at Robin with tear rimmed eyes, fighting them from falling as she bit down on her trembling lip. “About…anything.”

Robin kept listening, wanting so badly to go on a rant but willing herself not to. Because right now, it’s Nancy who needs to rant. She needed to ramble until she couldn’t anymore.

“I’ve been so…God, I’ve been so in love with Jonathan since we met and…got through all of this together. It just…just...worked. Clicked, made sense. Way more sense than Steve, but — but Steve and I, we…what we had was…it was real. Really real. Even Barb saw it, she just — just didn’t want me getting hurt, or…losing myself for a guy. But I didn’t really. Steve never pushed me to do anything that I didn’t wanna do, or…wasn’t ready for. Ever. Not once. He was kind to me, and…and I feel like…like I just… I think I’m the one who did wrong by him. Not the other way around. All because I just felt so…lost, and conflicted, and scared, and unsure, and…and…”

Nancy curled in on herself, tears falling down her cheeks as she ducked her face out of sight. But Robin scooched closer to her, enveloping her into a comforting embrace as she wept. And Nancy let her, allowing herself to lean against her.

“I told him what we had was bullshit and it wasn’t,” Nancy cried bitterly. “It wasn’t, he's not -- I was just…so fucking mad that Barb was gone. And it was easier to blame Steve, all because he wasn’t hurting the way that I was. The way that I still am. But that’s — that’s n-not — b-because he d-doesn’t…c-care…”

Nancy’s shoulders convulsed, and Robin’s heart broke for her as she held her tighter.

“B-but Jonathan had lost Will, so h-he…he got it. H-he knew wh-what I was…going through… And I-I j-just felt...so r-right with him. Because l-looking at him didn’t remind me of…of…”

Nancy choked on a sob.

Robin knew she meant Barb. She didn’t have to say it.

“I’m angry. For me, for Barb, for Steve, for Jonathan…my mom, dad, Mike…everyone. All the time. And I just d-don’t know what to do, because…Jonathan shut me o-out, and w-wanted to b-break up with m-me all because he felt like…he was…holding me back, and wouldn’t just t-talk…to me…and then S-Steve… Steve, h-he wanted me back b-but now…h-he…he loves…he loves…”

Nancy ugly cried into her palms, muffling the noise so that it wouldn’t be heard from anyone inside. Robin clung to her, rocking them back and forth with some gentle, soothing shushes.

“He loves her, Robin,” Nancy cried, heartbreak and anguish lacing her voice. “He loves her, and s-she loves him back. S-so much…b-better than I d-did…and I…I should be…so h-happy for him. And h-her, but I just…I just…wonder if I…did I…did I m-mess up…? Did I lose the p-person I was s-supposed to b-be with? I just didn’t…think he’d…move on…and that’s so…fucking SELFISH of me…”

Robin squeezed her. “It’s not selfish. It’s human. Steve is amazing. But Nancy…it’s okay that you didn’t go back to him.”

“But you thought I should,” Nancy leaned back now. She looked at Robin dead in the eye with bloodshot, red rimmed eyes. They swam in regrets, sorrows and bitterness.

“You and Eddie both thought that we should,” she said, voice croaked and upset. “Y-you both…thought that we…shouldn’t have…broken up, or…”

“You’re right,” Robin admitted, feeling bad but deciding it was best to just own up to it. “You’re right, I did. We did. Me and Eddie. But Nancy…sometimes we’re just so distracted by what seems right…that we can’t see what’s actually right in front of us.”

Nancy looked at her quizzically. Robin sighed.

“Look, when you left Steve,” Robin explained, taking her hand into both of hers. “Back in senior year, and you got with Jonathan…you two had your own journey. You had each other. Steve? Steve had no one during his — except for the kids…and Bauman. Because back then, he didn’t know yet. He didn’t know about her and Murray intervening —”

“Yeah, I know,” Nancy said bitterly. “We all know that now.”

“Just hear me out,” Robin pleaded with her softly. “I promise, I’m with you, alright?”

Nancy stared at her for a moment, finally softening her tense jaw and nodding once. Robin picked back up, on cue.

“Steve still had a lot of growing up to do. On his own. Dustin was the first to reach out to him. Well, he basically forced himself on Steve. And Steve needed that. He’s an only child. He needed a little brother to give him grief, and boss him around and pick on him. You have Mike. Steve didn’t have that until Dustin wormed his way into his life." Robin added with a smile, " ...and his heart.”

Nany thought about that, expression pensive with realization.

“Then Bauman came along,” Robin continued. “She was Steve’s age… You and Jonathan were off with the adults. He got left behind to watch the kids with her. They went through…a lot of shit that night. You did, too. But so did they. They fought off Billy Hargrove. They protected the kids, fought off the demodogs in the tunnels. They survived the night together. You know what that feels like. You and Jonathan bonded that way. Right?”

Nancy hesitates but looks back at her, sniffing. Eventually, she nods again.

“Right," Robin exhales deeply, proceeding. "So Steve… Steve had someone his age to be around, along with the kids. And that was great. Because she’s independent and badass, but also really chill and down to earth. Like, some sort of femme tomboy. Which Steve lowkey kind of needed, she really was exactly what --"

“Robin, I get it,” Nancy snapped, not wanting to hear about you in a complimentary way. At least not at this moment.

“No, hear me out,” Robin insisted, giving her hands another squeeze. “You need to hear this, Nancy, alright? You know you’re beautiful. You know Steve has been helplessly in love with you for years. That’s not even a question.”

Robin paused, shifting gears again as she refused to let Nancy look away from her.

“...but Steve had to move on. Or…find ways to convince himself that he could. And Bauman? She was there for that. She was around, during all his growth. And trust me – it was ugly. You have nothing to envy there. God, the way that they argued? The way Steve talked to her, honestly? Honestly. You would’ve slapped him. I sure as hell did a few times. Mostly verbal slapping. But I hit him a few times, not gonna lie. You’ve seen the highlights of Steve’s growth. You have seen the best parts of him, but…but Bauman was there for all of it. She got to see it all happen in real time, from the second you and Jonathan met back up with them to right now. And she owned up to her shit, too. It wasn’t her fault, by no means was it her fault. But hey, she took the hits. Many times. And she still ended up falling in love with Steve, who she swore was the last person who would ever win her over. Those two knuckleheads were relentless whenever I came into the picture. Fighting like lovers in a quarrel with absolutely zero history of affection to show for it. But still, they got through shit together. They put their differences aside for the kids, and when it came to fighting off the Russians? She and Steve honestly kept me so sane. And they kept us safe, too. Me, Dustin and Erica. They didn’t get along in the real world, but in the upside down world? They did. They didn’t even think twice. Steve grew into a way better person because of her. And she opened up a lot more because of him, and the kids. She didn’t grow up with siblings either. That’s another thing they have in common.”

Nancy took all of that in with a solemn expression. Robin let that sink in before continuing.

“I know this is…a lot. But really, Nancy…so much happened while you were gone. Those two fell in love over time without even knowing it. Shit, we didn’t know it either. That was a plot twist for all of us — including Murray. Despite what he says, that guy does not know everything.”

Nancy scoffed. “I know that.”

“Of course you do. We all do. He does, too. Especially now. Now that his niece and Steve are clearly so head over heels in love with one another.”

Nancy’s heart sank at that. She knew that it was true.

“I’m not…” Nancy mumbled, eyes downcast. “I’m not mad at her for falling in love with him. Or him. I just…can’t help but wonder if I messed up. Missed out on someone that I loved more than I allowed myself to when we were together.”

“You couldn’t have loved him more back then, Nancy,” Robin corrected her. “Because who he was then, is not who he is now. And who he is now is someone that Bauman has played a huge role in him becoming.”

Nancy sniffed a few times, bringing her knees to her chest and lost in thought.

“Do you still love Jonathan?”

Nancy looked at her, surprised. “What?”

“Tell me what you’re feeling there,” Robin pressed gently. “Why is that going wrong again?”

Nancy got defensive. “Um, what’s wrong is that he clearly planned on leaving me while I was back here being loyal to him.”

“Right,” Robin mused. “But…what about after he got back? What happened then?”

Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t. She thought about that for a while.

“We just…” she started. “...we just…moved past it. We let it go.”

Robin nodded slowly. “After all you two have been through…knowing damn well that things need to be talked about…you both really thought that was best?”

“He doesn’t ever tell me how he actually feels,” Nancy snapped. “I’m so sick of it. I always have to push him to tell me things. He just — shuts me out. Clams up, retreats. He won’t even tell me when he’s upset about something unless I make him.”

“Well then,” Robin nods. “That’s definitely on him. But what about you?”

Nancy scrunches her face in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt either?” Robin asks, unblinking.

Nancy stares at her, not knowing how to answer that.

“I told him that I love him,” Nancy whispers. “And that I…that we’re fine.”

Robin’s expression softens. “Do you wanna be?”

Nancy’s face crumbles. “I…I want…”

Robin waits, not knowing what to expect but knowing that it’s getting somewhere.

“I want him to love me again,” Nancy cries in despair. “I want him to fight for me, and — and love me the way that I thought that he did. That he would. That he always would —”

Robin holds Nancy again as she convulses with sobs in her arms. They stay that way for a little while, allowing the dust to settle. Nancy has said enough for now. It would all unravel itself more over time.

Meanwhile, Eddie had told Jonathan to make his way upstairs and talk with Steve.

“You’re on, buddy boy,” Eddie told him with a hard pat on the back.

So while Jonathan made peace with Steve, Nancy had finally released some of her emotions and confided in Robin.

And now, all the adults were in the kitchen as Murray made some food for the older teens and Erica. They’d asked Robin and Eddie to make sure that Argyle, Jonathan and Nancy were all going to be present for it, along with Erica before she could go upstairs and join the kids.

So here they all were now: sitting at the dinner table while Murray and Erica served them up plates and bowls of random foods.

Jonathan had watched Nancy make her way into the kitchen with Robin, newly fresh faced and eyes puffy from crying. She wore her pajamas now, having taken a quick shower and washing off the anguish from her meltdown earlier. Jonathan’s heart cracked in two, and it did even more as Nancy went to sit next to Robin. He stood up, unable to help himself.

“I got you a seat here,” he said, voice shaky.

Nancy had looked over at him, eyes cold and expression blank.

“That’s alright,” she said, voice level and cool. “We share a room.”

Nancy sat next to Robin, demeanor cool and calm and collected. She was stiff, but there was a chilling resilience to her that Jonathan had not seen in a while. It terrified him, making his anxiety spike. Had he lost her? Was he too late?

He swallowed hard, accepting it — given everyone else at the table. Hopper had awkwardly reached for some pepper as this was happening, working in slow motion as he felt really uncomfortable. So Jonathan just nodded, and Joyce gave him a sympathetic look as she placed glasses of water and tea in front of everyone.

Eddie made concerned eye contact with Robin as he poured himself some water. Yikes.

“I’ll sit next to you, my dude,” Argyle said warmly, knowing he needed to step in. Jonathan was grateful for that, but still dying inside as he kept stealing glances at Nancy — who looked anywhere except his way.

Murray clicked his tongue loudly. “Alrighty then. Shall we?”

With a thud, he set down his plate. Joyce clenched her jaw but took a deep breath.

“Lay it on us,” Eddie said with a deep exhale, sitting down on the other side of Argyle.

“Yeah, what’s this pow-wow and why is it just this group who's on it?” Erica questioned as she stationed herself on the other side of Robin.

“Right,” Hopper sighed before shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and leaning back to chew, readying himself. Everyone waited patiently.

“Here’s the deal,” he began, leaning forward and eyeing everyone individually as he spoke. “No one here is being made to keep a secret. That’s not what’s going on.”

“So then why is it private?” Robin asked curiously.

“Because right now…we need to set some things straight. Set in stone. Before we dive into our group meeting tomorrow. Consider this…a board meeting of sorts.”

Jonathan furrowed his brow. “Don’t we want Bauman and Steve for that?”

Hopper sighed deeply, rubbing at his beard. “This affects them. And the kids.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at that, feeling nervous. He looked over at Robin, who looked just as worried.

Erica scrunched her face up. “Then why am I here?…”

“Because I need one of you kids to be level headed and vouch for me,” Hopper explained. “And for Joyce and Murray. We’ve spent a lot of time figuring this out. Weighed out our options, talked to El about it.”

“Does she know?” Nancy asked.

“Some,” Hopper nodded. “Most… Not all.”

Erica leaned forward, truly listening and accepting that she was clearly going to need to stick with some sort of plan that her friends were not going to be keen on…

Hopper contemplated his next words carefully.

“Look. Tonight, I need those kids to rest. To laugh, play some card games. Eat too much candy, and just have a good night. Soak up all the fun they can get before this mandate goes into effect soon. And before we have to go forward with a plan.”

Hopper made sure that everyone was with him on that. Off their nods, he continued.

“There’s two groups. One that’ll stay here, in hiding. Down in the basement, where we’ve already started making up basecamp. They’ll have to stay hidden. Out of sight. Quiet. On high alert. It’s a gamble. Just because they’ll be home…it doesn’t guarantee them any safety.”

Hopper took a deep breath, eyes filled with dread. He rubbed at the gap between his pinched brows.

“…the other group will have to risk getting back out there. And we won’t be anywhere that’s not swarmed and completely surrounded by the government and — god-knows-who-else, before we can get ourselves back near the largest gate that’s torn itself open and is ready to swallow Hawkins.”

Everyone’s blood ran cold.

No one was safe. They weren’t before, but now? Nothing was off the table. Everything was high risk, no matter where anyone was stationed.

“If you’re sitting here,” Hopper continued slowly, voice grave, “at this table, listening to this conversation…minus Erica and Murray...you’re in Group 2. ”

Nancy and Jonathan both felt their chests constrict, but they understood. It didn’t surprise them per se. And at this point, nothing should scare them. But it did.

Joyce looked at her eldest son, torn but knowing it had to be done.

Erica looked over at Murray, who gave her a soft nod.

Robin and Eddie looked at each other, along with Argyle, shuddering.

“Dimitri is going with us,” Hopper added.

“Who’s he?” Jonathan asked.

“Russian soldier,” Joyce told him, holding up a hand to clarify. “He’s on our side.”

Jonathan hesitated but eventually gave her a small nod. He looked over at Nancy, who was staring down at the table with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“He’s got insight,” Hopper continued. “Knows what we’re dealing with, and how to handle what we’re all up against. We’ll need as many of us as we can get out there. Those of us who know the risks, and know how to navigate this world.”

Robin processed that, thinking. “So that…where does that leave Steve and Bauman?”

Hopper was quiet. The way he gnawed his cheek made it clear that this was where it got messy.

“Steve is on the frontlines with us,” Hopper explained carefully. “…and Bauman is stationed back here with Murray and the kids, along with Dr. Owens.”

Robin’s heart sank, and so did Eddie’s. They both shared a sad, all-knowing look. They knew this wasn’t going to go well. At all. They knew that Steve was going to flip his shit at just the idea of leaving you out of his sight.

“Won’t Dr. Owens have a target on his back?” Eddie asked, concerned. “Won’t that — won’t that draw more danger here…?”

That made Robin look at Hopper, wide-eyed. The retired cop looked pale, eyes full of dread.

“He has to be here in case anything happens to Bauman or Max,” he explains solemnly. “Because if shit goes south here…they’ll need to run.”

Jonathan felt sick. This also meant leaving Will behind. “But…how? How can they run?”

“That’s where I come in,” Murray chimes in. “Between me and Erica and Dustin, we’ll be able to keep a close eye out for a signal — which Will can help us navigate.”

“Because he’s still connected to it all,” Joyce explains sadly. “He still…feels it. He senses when it’s near.”

“Which is why he’ll be able to give us a warning,” Murray nods, adding to Joyce’s input. “Since El has to be out there with you guys, we’ll still have a connected source that's here with us.”

“The kids can’t do this,” Hopper adds, tone firm. “Not this time. El doesn’t count, as much as I want her to stay back. She can’t. I know that.” He looks at Erica with parental eyes. “But as far as the rest of you kids go? No more. It’s already bad enough having to risk you all staying here. But if this is how it’s gotta go down? You’re staying where there’s a controlled space, with 2-3 solid abort mission plans — which Murray knows from top to bottom.”

Erica hangs her head, but she nods. She knows this makes sense.

“As for Bauman,” Hopper continues, eyes sad. “She’s not able to get back out there. Between her heart issues and her bad shoulder and ribs…she has to stay put.”

“No, I agree with that,” Robin says, voice full of gravel before she clears it. “But, umm…I’m just…really worried that…well it’s just — Steve, he’s um, he’s —”

“He’s going to have to do this,” Hopper interjects, but not unkindly. In fact, it’s full of empathy and remorse. “He knows the ways. You’ll all need him. His stamina, his strength. He’s strong, good with a bat and can outrun shit. He also knows what to keep an eye out for, whatever comes our way.”

Eddie gulps, partially because he’s terrified about facing the underworld again…but also because he knows that Steve will be a wreck the entire time he’s gone with them and not with you. And if Eddie’s being honest, the idea of leaving you and the kids behind is killing him too. He’s especially grown to love you and Dustin over the last year.

“This isn’t open for discussion,” Hopper says, voice firmer and tone low. “Tomorrow, when we have our living room meeting, I’ll be conveying this to everyone…along with Murray and Joyce. And I need to know I have each and every one of you on our side. Those kids are going to raise hell. All of them are. And this plan is not changing. It’s either this…or we all stay hunkered down until we rot. Am I making myself clear?”

Nancy and Jonathan nodded first, quickly followed by Robin and Eddie.

“Yes sir,” Argyle spoke first, and for the first time he genuinely looked aware of just how heavy all of this stuff really is. Jonathan gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Erica,” Hopper was looking directly at the youngest person sitting across the table. “I’m counting on you. I know that’s not fair, but I am. You’re tough as nails. You’re gonna have to be that way with your brother, and his friends. Your friends. You'll have to be hard...but gentle enough to get it through to him. I don’t care what you gotta do, you do it. Whatever you have to say? Say it. And if anybody gives you shit for knowing this before they did…send them to me. Understood?”

Erica looked back at Hopper with the most somber expression. But she nodded.

“Understood,” she said, voice low.

Hopper gave her a curt nod before looking over at the older teens.

“As for you guys,” he said. “We all know the shit that just went down yesterday at the fence. Bauman’s always been at the frontlines with us. She can’t be now. And Steve cannot hang back. He’s got too much strength that we can’t afford to not have on our side of this battle. And I don’t care if Bauman insists she can do it. She can’t, and she won’t.”

“And if she gets stubborn,” Murray interjects, voice fierce. “Tell me. If she tries pulling a fast one? You tell me. Capiche?”

Eddie and Robin quickly nod up and down.

“I’ll talk to him if it gets bad,” Jonathan says in a weak voice.

Nancy narrows her eyes at him. Since when do he and Steve talk?

“Good,” Joyce says with a sad, tight-lipped grin and nod at her son. “He’ll need it.”

"I'll be there for him, too," Robin nodded at Jonathan.

“Will we be able to stay in contact with them at least?” Eddie asks pathetically. “Via the walkies?”

“When necessary...yes,” Hopper confirms. “We’ll have to be scarce about it. Selective. Nowhere is safe. It’ll have to be reserved for vital communication only.”

Eddie frowned, but nodded in understanding. Robin was currently biting her palm, consumed with dread and sickening anxiety. Leaving you behind? The kids? Even Murray, who everyone had come to appreciate in their own weird sort of way — mostly because of how much they all loved you. He was an extension of you. The whole situation just felt…fucked.

But wasn’t everything fucked? Wasn’t this entire world so catostrophically fucked in every single which way, seemingly irreparable?

Was there actually an end to this nightmare? A world in which the upside down would cease to exist…monsters would go back to their storybooks and dark, twisted fairy tales…the moon would only ever symbolize light within forgotten darkness...and the sun would never hide behind the ashy debris that currently clung to the air, just outside their windows?

Despite how everything looked grim, with seemingly no end in sight…you all persisted in choosing to believe. Yes. Yes, this was going to end.

The end of the world was nearing. It was inevitable.

But it wouldn’t be your world.

***

You never really put much thought into what having a family would feel like one day.

You’d wondered. Every little girl does. In young girlhood, there’s the beauty of innocence that protectively surrounds all grown-up dreams that fuel your wildest imagination. The dreams of never having to go to school, and being in charge of everything you want. The dreams of being able to eat whatever you want, whenever you want. The dreams of meeting your future husband, and getting to wear a big white, sparkly ballgown as you walk down the aisle to your happily ever after. The dreams of being a princess in a big castle, ruling the land and having cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and tea parties everyday with your friends.

Sure, you’d had those dreams as a little girl. How could you not? It was inevitable.

But as you grew older, you didn’t really have a chance to fantasize about much. You’d been made to grow up from a very young age. Your grandmother had been there for you enough. She kept a roof over your head. Food on the table. A very generous allowance, even though you never asked for one and you’d gotten yourself a job by the age of 13 painting peoples’ houses and doing yard work. You’d even gotten hired by your uncle to do data entry for him, along with a couple of his contacts who did intense investigative research and needed someone to work remotely. You earned your own living, and you did upkeep on your grandmother’s house — despite her never asking you to do so. She was gone a lot. She wasn’t very old. Just a smoker who liked casinos and taking trips with her “friend” from time to time. A woman, who she only ever referred to as her "assistant." You knew better than to believe that, but you never said anything about it. She was a closeted lesbian — which is why Robin coming out of the closet for you had been the easiest news to take, let alone support. Your grandmother was a tough, long-acrylic-nails-donning boss bitch who did whatever the hell she wanted. You’d gone with her many times to some casino resorts, mostly staying in the hotel room or just walking around the city. It felt like living with a Mafia Mobwife. It was cool, for the most part. But it definitely meant being able to hold your own. She’d raised herself when she was a kid — and in most ways, you did too.

It’s why you’d spent so much time with your uncle, who didn’t live very far. He was home a lot. Given his line of work, he didn’t go out much. He became even more of a hermit as the years went on, and you liked that. It meant consistency. His spare room basically became your room. It couldn’t exactly be considered a “guest room” when he never had guests over. You’re the only person he invited over for company, and he loved it. The two of you got along effortlessly. His dark humor rubbed off on you early on, which your grandmother shared in but she wasn’t nearly as quick-witted as Murray. That’s where you got it from. But your dry, snarky wit was much more selectively timed than his. He was all over the place. You had solid social cues, given that you went to school and were around people often. Your uncle was definitely an oddball. But you loved him to death, and you got him better than anyone else did.

You weren’t babied. You weren’t coddled, or sheltered, or given false hope about the world. It’s why you held your own, and it’s also why you never victimized yourself. It was to a fault, but you believed it was for the best.

So when Clark broke your heart into a million pieces, you told yourself it had been a risk from the start. A gamble, just like the poker tables at those casinos that your grandmother frequented all the time. Love was a dangerous game, and it spared no one. There were winners and losers — and you’d lost this one.

But right now, in this moment, you felt as though you had just won every single jackpot that there was to win.

Because right now, you were sitting in Steve’s lap on the floor of Max’s room in his big house, holding cards closely to your chest as Lucas screeched GO FISH at Dustin. Steve’s hand was in plain sight, and if you were a cheater you’d have him beat in seconds. But you didn’t need to win a stupid card game…because you had won the greatest game of all: life.

El and Mike were cuddled up close to each other, giggling and being young teens in love. In a normal world, you would assume it to be puppy love between them. But this world wasn’t normal, and the shit that they’d been through together wasn’t any different than what you and Steve had been through together. It was real love, and you let them be that way.

Lucas was seated next to Max in her bed, holding her hand and laughing like a kid again. Dustin was hoarding all of the candy from his backpack (so much for sharing) and laughing like a buffoon. He bickered with Steve and the kids as usual, but something about it was just so…bright. Hearty laughter bounced off the walls, and there were so many times that Steve had belly laughed — along with you and the other kids — that you’d all lost count.

Sometimes, you swore that you saw Max’s lips twitch. As if she could hear you all in her coma, wanting to laugh along with everybody. Lucas would talk to her as if she could hear you all just fine, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead while showing her his hand in cards. Dustin even gave her a sleeve of her favorite candy — just for her. He might not have basic manners with the rest of you, but Max? Always.

Will was keeping score, seated next to you and Steve with the biggest smile you had ever seen him wear. He laughed hysterically the entire night, even going as far as verbally expressing adoration for you and Steve. Dustin would pretend to gag, but Will would just tell him he knew better than to think that the curly-haired smart alec wasn’t completely in love with the two of you being together. Dustin had grinned all dopey and wide, rolling his eyes but not arguing with him any further.

At some point, Mike suggested all swapping ghost stories.

Lucas had barked the loudest laugh. “How about the one we’re currently living??”

“Hey, hey,” Steve interjected. “I got a better idea. Tell your most embarrassing story. One you’re scared shitless to tell.”

You'd grinned in his arms, snickering. “Oh I got plenty of those.”

“I mean hey,” Dustin shrugged with a mouthful of candy. “If we’re gonna die, we might as well get real.”

“Okay chill, we’re not going to die,” Steve scoffed, hiding his internal worry.

“It’s possible,” Mike shrugged, grabbing another bag of M&M’s.

Steve huffed. “Dammit, Wheeler —”

Mike’s devilish grin was infuriating yet endearing at the same time.

“I wish Max could hear all of this,” El said with a tinkering laugh.

You gave her the warmest of smiles and a wink. “Trust me. She does.”

“Hell yeah,” Lucas smiled wide, squeezing Max’s hand. “I’ll even tell one of her stories, for her.”

“...dude, she’s gonna kill you,” Dustin warned him, but there was a smirk lifting at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll go first,” Will announced, laying on his stomach as he ate some popcorn. “One time? I was asleep in bed but I woke up because I heard Jonathan moaning so loudly — like, disturbingly loud —”

“Okay, maybe I needed to lay down some ground rules here —” Steve starts with a very tight voice as you snorted into your palm.

“Just hear me out,” Will laughs, holding a hand. “I thought it was with a girl —”

“William,” Steve scolded.

“But he was in the bathroom,” Will talked over him. “Shitting his brains out.”

Dustin cackled while Mike audibly expressed disgust while laughing at the same time. El looked shocked, giggling hysterically into her hand.

“Damn, that bad?!” Lucas roared.

“He lit every candle in the house,” Will cackled. “Mom went to use it shortly after him and came barreling into our rooms to ask us in a panic what had died up one of our butts!”

Steve collapsed into you laughing, and you couldn’t even breathe from laughing so hard. It was that sort of deep laughter that’s so painful because it’s quiet before you’re able to finally erupt with loud laughs that help you come down from a high. All the kids were a fit of cackles and giggles, too. Erica made her way into the room finally, jumping right into things and bringing cookies with milk. All of you exchanged stories, allowing yourselves to only cry tears of joy. It was exactly what you all needed, long overdue.

And for the first time in ages — none of you thought about the upside down, or the impending doom that awaited you just outside of the Harrington house throughout all of Hawkins.

That night, you and Steve tucked every single of your kids into their assigned sleeping bags and cots. Lucas stayed with Max in her bed, asking you sheepishly if that was alright. You’d nodded, along with Steve — more than approving. And given you both would be chaperoning that night in the same shared room, you also let Mike and El cuddle up together in a sleeping bag.

“Hands outside of the covers, Wheeler,” Steve warned him, but he gave him a wink — adding please at the end. Even Mike gave him a smile and nod, like a little kid who felt called out but also didn’t have any intention of disobeying.

Dustin and Will joked in high pitched voices about being bunkmates with their sleeping bags next to each other, given they were the two singles of the group. Technically, Erica was too. But even if she wasn’t, she would still demand her own space. She had situated herself on the floor beside Lucas’s side of the bed, not planning to give him a hard time for a good while given what was in store for everyone tomorrow.

As for you and Steve — the two of you had stationed yourselves in the center of the room, closest to the door. That way, you could see all your kids at any point during the night and also be the first to fight off any harm coming your way, should danger lurk on the other side of the locked bedroom door.

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair as he dozed off, earning a sleepy little “hmph” from him. After he made sure all of them were comfortably settled in for the night, he crawled over to you. His nail bat was propped somewhere nearby — ready to be swung into action if need be. But the need for it that night never came.

You curled into Steve’s chest, breathing in his clean, masculine scent and allowing it to fill all of your senses. Sighing contentedly, you felt a rush of warmth wash over you as his lips pressed into the top of your head.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you more,” you murmured in the softest of whispers.

You felt him chuckle against you. “Impossible,” he breathed into your hair, pulling you so close to him you might as well be the same body.

And had you not been so completely relaxed in his arms, you might have fought him on it. The whole "I love you more" thing. In fact you definitely would have. But you just hummed, dozing off in his strong arms and allowing sleep to find you.

***

Waking up had been beautiful. The sun was even more hidden than usual, plagued by the new world coming into fruition. But despite the lack of sunshine outdoors, you felt as though it shone through the entire room as all the kids woke up and whispered to each other. You pretended not to hear them when they talked about you and Steve. Because if you were being honest? You’d been dying to hear their uncensored thoughts. If they thought that you weren’t listening, they wouldn’t hold back from saying what was actually on their mind.

Turns out? All of them wanted this. The two of you together. They laughed about how some of them thought that Steve was going to end up with Robin at first.

“No way,” Lucas shook his head in a confident whisper. “Those two? They’re like brother and sister.”

“Yeah, but Bauman’s so out of his league,” Mike whispered back.

“She is not,” Will added in a defensive whisper.

“She so is,” Mike whispered indignantly.

“No way, Steve’s awesome,” Dustin defended in a whisper.

“Yeah but like,” Mike whispered, pondering with a sigh. “I mean yeah. He is. I like him. He’s cool. Way cooler than I thought he was at first. But Bauman’s literally a badass. She doesn't care what people think.”

“Steve doesn’t care anymore,” Erica chimes in, speaking softly. She’s actually pleading Steve’s case and it’s adorable. “He used to. But when we were down there with the Russians? And he had to wear that stupid sailor outfit for work?…”

“Oh my god,” Dustin snickered. “That shit was so funny.”

“He looked like Shirley Temple from the Good Ship Lollipop,” Lucas snickered back, and Will had to shush them so that they wouldn’t wake you up.

“My point is,” Erica continued with sass. “Steve doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of him now. I mean…he gave her hell the whole time I was around ‘em.”

“I still don’t get that,” Mike whispered.

“Me either,” El added quietly.

“What do you mean?” Dustin whispered in confusion. “I told you guys the whole story. That once upon a time ramble I had to sit through when Murray basically went on to give us an entire rundown on the two of them?”

“Well duh,” Mike whispered in annoyance. “I know that. But dude…she’s…like, she's...”

“Hot.”

Everyone went quiet, and you stiffened as you held back laughter. Because the person who had called you hot? It was El.

“Bauman is hot,” El repeated.

Eventually someone snorted. Then, they all did. You bit back laughter, blushing into Steve’s chest with your face kept hidden.

“You’re hot,” Mike added to her in a coy whisper.

“No, you are,” she whispered back sweetly.

“Enough,” Erica whispered definitively.

“Max thinks that Steve is hot,” Lucas scoffed.

“He is,” Erica and El said at the same time.

“Hey,” Mike whined, and they all shushed him.

“Face it, dude,” Dustin whispered flatly. “He is. I wish I looked like him.”

“You look great, man,” Will assured him. “You got a girl like Suzy. You gotta be a stud to catch someone like her.”

Dustin had blushed at that with a wide, dopey grin. “Think so?”

After listening to them chat some more, eventually Steve started to stir. He’d told them good morning, to which Dustin all too happily responded with a very loud good morning back —- making Steve audibly groan and bite back curse words. The kids all snickered.

Will started handing out drawings out to everyone. You all had been sketching and drawing together in your assigned room earlier the day before, while Steve had been getting Max’s room ready. Will had told you all to draw a picture of someone else in the party. He’d even chosen who was drawing who.

Will and Lucas drew each other.

Mike and Erica drew each other.

El and Dustin drew each other.

And you drew Steve, before he joined you all and eventually drew his original art piece of you while you all played a round of the Game of Life.

Here you were now: holding your drawing close to your chest, and wiggling your eyebrows at Steve. He gave you the most adorable smirk, his cocoa brown eyes still a bit sleepy and his perfect hair the sexiest case of bed head. He stretched, toned arms flexing and his white t-shirt clinging to his muscles in all the right places while being loose enough to wanna rip it off of him…

Not the time, Bauman, you mentally scolded yourself.

Steve had reached underneath his pillow to fetch his drawing of you, holding it to his chest and sitting across from you — crossed-legged and shooting you a wink. All the kids mirrored you both, sitting opposite their assigned art piece subject with throaty giggles and snorts.

Will looked at everyone excitedly, like a proud art professor, ready for his classroom to partake in show-and-tell.

“Alright,” he smiled. “Everyone ready?”

“Yeah, you go first, Byers,” Steve nodded at him with an encouraging grin.

Will blushed. “Oh…well…I mean…I should go last. You guys first. On the count of 3, everyone turn your photos around to your partner.”

Mike snorted as he stared down Erica. “Howdy, partner,” he drawled in a fake accent. El giggled, and so did Lucas.

Erica shot Mike a wry smirk. “Easy now, cowboy.”

“Bet you made me look like a total loser,” Mike snickered.

“I don’t have to draw you to make you look like that,” Eric’s said in the most sugary sweet, sarcastic voice.

“Okay snarkbutts, settle down,” Steve scolded lightly in a groggy voice, no heat behind it. “Will has the floor. William: proceed.”

Will saluted him. “Alright. Count of 3.”

“Please tell me you gave me teeth,” Dustin mumbled lowly to El.

“One…”

El shrugged. “I dunno.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes.

“Two…”

Steve gave you a coy look, asking in the lowest of mumbles, “How big’s my hair?”

You grinned like a devil, your voice lower. “Not as big as your other best trait.”

Steve lifted a very cocky eyebrow with a deepening grin.

“Three!”

Everyone turned their papers around, and a soft silence fell over you all minus a few little reactive intakes of breath.

Dustin had drawn El with a million eggo waffles in the sky around her. She looked like the most adorable cartoon character, with anime eyes and full cheeks. Her hair was shorter, the way she’d looked back in ‘83 whenever she’d returned. But it wasn’t slicked back. It was free, curly and a little wild. Her smile was innocent and childlike, and there was a policeman in the back waving. Hopper.

El had drawn Dustin with his signature cap and his big toothy grin — which made him beam, because she did give him teeth in the drawing after all. And in this drawing, there were bubble boxes above him that read all the quotes she associated with him, like Steve! and She’s our friend and she’s crazy! and Shit shit shit shit shit!

Mike had drawn Erica into a comic strip. He showed her as just a wee tike, then at Scoops Ahoy with an ice cream cone, then playing DND. The last image of the strip showed her with her arms crossed and a triumphant smile, with a banner behind her that read Welcome to the Party. (…as Erica looked at it, she felt the most unfamiliar warmth seep into her bones and the joyful sting behind her eyes sent her into pure shock.)

Erica had drawn Mike on his bike, riding through the neighbor with his backpack and a flashlight. His dark hair blew in the wind, and there was a thought bubble above him with little heads that resembled all of his best friends. Above him and the thought was a quote: “Mike Wheeler: nerd, snark machine and superhero to all.” (…Mike felt so emo, he didn’t know what to do with it.)

You had drawn Steve in a very chic sort of hot anime-like way. It honestly looked like an actual character that existed in an anime universe. In the drawing, Steve held his nail bat in one hand and a McDonald’s happy meal in the other. He didn’t quite understand that part at first — until he spotted behind him, there was a Winnebago. Six familiar faces, very stick-figure-esque, stood there waving. You also stood there, with a quote above your head: “six-piece nuggets, coming right up.” Steve breathed the fondest of chuckles as he took it all in, wanting to laugh and smile and cry and tackle you with his kids all at the same time.

Steve’s drawing of you was more adorable than you ever thought him capable of drawing. You were the cutest little cartoon, backpack over your shoulder with combat boots — but you were wearing the most beautiful dress. It was yellow, which complimented the happy blue sky behind you. Yours and Steve's favorite colors combined. There was a big house behind you, with seven other stick figures that looked an awful lot like Steve and your six nuggets. And right next to you, there was a dictionary-esque definition of you:

BAUMAN (Pronounced bow•men)

A professional love-life ruiner; cute but psycho; hardcore but soft; too smart for her own good; humor darker than the dark espresso she drinks straight, because she’s a sociopath; also hotter than said cup of coffee; terrifyingly beautiful from the inside out; my mortal enemy turned favorite person; the girl who makes everything make sense; someone I can’t fathom living without, and can’t believe I ever thought I could; the love of my life, in this one and the next and so on, so long as she’ll have me.

You had never felt so full in your entire life, and neither had Steve. The two of you just stared at each other’s drawings. Grinning, glassy-eyed, chuckling, aching, filled with every ounce of joy and every ounce dread — all at once. Neither of you could speak, but neither of you had to. Your eyes, along with his, spoke volumes. They said everything there was to say, just as much as your sketches did.

Lucas had drawn Will in a wizard’s outfit. He held a tall, majestic scepter — with a large hat on top of his head. Surrounding him was a large swirl of colors, whimsical and light, painting a galaxy of sorts. And in this galaxy, there were little floating stick figures with all his friends’ names above them. Will was smiling in the drawing, with his hands in the air and on top of the world. Literally, because in the picture he was standing on top of a globe.

As for Will...he had drawn Lucas at a basketball game. He was scoring the winning basket, and an entire crowd cheered behind him. All of you were there. Will was there, next to all his friends. You and Steve were next to each other, along with his mom, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Eddie, Robin and Hopper. Even your Uncle Murray.

And Max…that’s where Will’s drawing got unique.

She was piggybacking Lucas, as he jumped and shot the winning score of the game, her laugh radiating through all the pens and crayons and markers that Will had used to sketch her. She was alive, as were the rest of you. Very much alive.

Just as you all were right now, inside one of Steve Harrington’s many bedrooms in his big house with no parents.

No matter what doom was swiftly approaching — no matter what monsters were looming underneath the surface, and already roaming the real world — you all were together. You had each other.

You always will.

***

Late morning upstairs has been kind to you. It's been light. Hopeful.

There’s something about walking downstairs that makes the energy shift. It sends an odd sort of chill up your spine, despite Steve’s arm draped securely over your shoulders as you wear one of his large gray hoodies with your bad arm in a sling. You feel a certain pang in your chest as the kids follow you all down into the kitchen…but this time, it’s not because of your heart arrhythmia.

As Hopper and Joyce smile at you all in the kitchen, greeting you warmly and having prepared a table full of pancakes that had smiley faces decorated with whipped cream and chocolate chips and strawberries on top — something about the scene frowns at you. A deep frown that you’ve seen on everyone’s faces whenever there is bad news waiting to be shared.

Your uncle is coming over to hand you a hot cup of decaf coffee, winking at you and Steve as he gives him a tight shoulder squeeze. He’s moving past you both towards the man named Dimitri, who is walking in from the living room. Murray brings him over to introduce you.

“Dimitri, this is my niece,” Murray grins.

You shake his hand firmly with your good arm, smiling gratefully. “Heard a lot about you.”

“You as well,” the man says with a genuine smile, kind vibrant eyes and a thick Russian accent. He’s definitely seen some shit.

“And this is Steve,” Murray gestures, a bit of a coy glint in his eye. “Her boyfriend.”

Steve blushes, a soft smile gracing his features and shining through his eyes. He wholeheartedly adores being called that out loud for the very first time: your boyfriend.

Your uneven heart skips several more beats, which typically would raise a lot of concern — but at the moment, you’re too fucking happy to care or pay it any mind. You watch Steve flash his signature charming smile and reach out to firmly shake hands with Dimitri, who is looking back at your handsome boy with the widest grin. The masculine exchange of lighthearted friendly words between the two men makes your stomach dance for some reason, especially as your uncle chuckles along with them.

This is completely uncharted territory for you. Nothing about this moment is familiar. But you could really get used to it. It’s new. And you adore it.

Dimitri meets the kids, who all take to him very well. Especially El, who seems to already be familiar with him. Likely because of Hopper. Jonathan and Argyle are being introduced to him by Joyce, while Eddie is rounding the corner with a big stretch and yawn. Steve shoots him a smirk as the metalhead makes his way over for a big ole bro hug, whispering something to him that makes Steve snort while Eddie grins like a devil. Steve swats at him playfully, successfully smacking him as Robin walks in with Nancy close behind. Steve’s quirky platonic soulmate makes her way over to you with a warm smile, swinging an arm over your shoulders so that she’s nearly headlocking you in a hug. She’s a bit taller than you, by just a couple inches, so it gives her some upper hand. You’re chuckling lightly, nose scrunched and tightly winding your good arm around Robin’s waist as you smile back at Nancy. Her eyes are still sad, a bit lost. But there’s no animosity there, at least not that you see. She looks at you shyly, timidly…but with utter kindness.

Unbeknownst to you — Robin had suggested to Nancy that she stay with her last night in Steve’s room. For Nancy, that had been…hard. Necessary, but hard. For multiple reasons. For one thing — the last time she’d slept in Steve’s room, she had been his girlfriend. Being asleep in there 2 years later without him, now as his ex, brought back a flood of memories — bittersweet and haunting. Being in his bed, twisted up in his sheets, felt wrong. But she just couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jonathan that night. Not yet. Not after everything that had unfolded. So Robin had stayed up talking with her, having a heavy heart to heart. But it turned out to be exactly what Nancy needed. Just what the doctor ordered. Robin Buckley had unintentionally become a nurse of sorts over the last several months, and maybe even somewhat of a therapist. Although — Argyle sort of had her beat in that department earlier that afternoon. But he was the much simpler kind. Whereas Robin got deep, given her innate gift at rambling until you were given no choice but to cut her off because your most honest thoughts were yanked out of you as you were made to listen to her ranting. Nancy had cried some more, but she’d also laughed. A comforting mixture of both smiles and frowns were shared between the two unlikely friends. Robin wasn’t Barb, nor would any other girl be that kind of friend to Nancy. Robin was very different from Barb. However, her heart was just as loving. She loved hard, and it showed. She let Nancy pour her heart out, pouring some of her own out in return. And somehow…somehow…it brought Nancy some newfound peace and understanding.

So as she looked at you now, having seen you come downstairs with Steve and the kids — now introducing yourselves to the new Russian house guest, and sharing a special connection with Eddie and Robin in a way that only settled couples so effortlessly did — Nancy could see something in the two of you that she’d not known Steve capable of being while she in a relationship with him. And while she selfishly ached for her younger self who’d missed out on having that with him (and sometimes still found herself pining after), she selflessly began to feel happy for Steve. And she even began to feel some happiness for you. Not completely. Not yet. She couldn’t quite commit to making full peace with it all, given that healing takes time. A very long time. But as time continued to pass, which Nancy hoped you all would still be granted given the circumstances of the crumbling world, she knew that she would eventually get there.

Murray and Dimitri were saying something funny, making Hopper and Joyce share a hearty laugh with the two of them while the kids were asking the new gentleman a million questions. Steve made his way over to you and Robin, hugging you both — and Eddie threw his arms around all of you, resulting in fond groans and grunts from you all along with big smiles.

Nancy and Jonathan made unintentional eye contact as this happened, but Dustin shouting GROUP HUG! snapped their focus away again. The boys all bear hugged you guys while El and Erica were already pouring syrup onto their pancakes.

Eventually, you all sat down to enjoy a feast. And while it tasted so deliciously sweet…the bitter aftertaste stemmed from looming doom that creeped just beneath the surface of your feet. The energy shift was still felt, and despite the warmth of homemade pancakes and Steve’s hand on your thigh…your blood ran cold.

***

It was the early afternoon that finally unveiled the darker energy shift you had all been sensing since that morning, after you left the comforting quarters of your little family sleepover.

Everyone was now seated in the living room now — the way you always were, when it was time for you all to have a group meeting and listen to Hopper go over a plan of sorts or give a rundown to the household. Except this time, Dimitri was here along with Dr. Owens. It wasn’t like all the other times. This was different. Very different.

This one scared you.

Maybe they all should’ve. All these talks that centered around the end of the world. All these household meetings about the impending doom that came with said end-of-the-world. But somehow, you’d grown accustomed to them. Comfortable. It meant you were all still alive and that you all had something worth fighting for. And it had always meant there would be another meeting.

But there was an unsettling sort of feeling of finality to this meeting that set it apart from all the others. And as Hopper stood with both Joyce and your uncle Murray…you felt goosebumps scatter up and down your arms and legs, regardless of Steve’s warm oversized hoodie and your leggings and socks. Their faces were somber, a bit grim. Murray kept his arms tightly crossed while Joyce fiddled nervously with her hands. Even Hopper, ever the strong and firm type, looked nervous. Maybe even afraid.

They spoke all slowly, taking their time with why everyone was there — why Dimitri was now in the picture along with Dr. Owens — and what all needed to be discussed. And the longer they spoke, the thicker the air got. Tension spread around the room. It was especially evident as none of the kids were making a sound. They hadn’t uttered a single word. Not one of them. The adults had the floor, and when they asked Dimitri to stand with them, you all knew this was going to go in a bad direction.

So when they all told you the plan, looping Dr. Owens into the picture and why he not only was here for this talk — but here to stay — the gravity of the current situation landed.

You all felt your souls plummet to the deepest depths of your stomachs with a hard thud, as Hopper revealed two large whiteboards. They both had entirely different detailed layouts…and beside each one, there were two separate lists of names.

One list of names would be at the frontlines. The people who would be diving head first into the upside down and all of its perils.

One list of names would be hiding out here. The people who would maintain home base, helping operate things from the other side in the real world, while risking the chance of being found, caught and killed.

Both sides were at risk. Both teams could die. Both groups might not ever live to see another day, or each other, ever again.

As Steve stares at your name, along with the names of all of his kids aside from El, on the opposite whiteboard from his own name…he feels bile rising in his throat. His stomach twists into knots, deeply tangled with unbearable anxiety and anguish. His mind races, but his lips don’t move. Fear paralyzes him, rendering him speechless as the adults keep talking and gesturing to the boards. The castle on a cloud that his dreams have just began to build for the two of you, walls high and protecting you both along with his kids — his family — was drifting away from him. And all he could do was watch it drifting further and further away, into the void, as he stared into space.

You felt his grasp on you instinctively tighten as his muscles stiffened. Steve was rigid against your back, and you were grateful that he couldn’t see your face right now. You were sitting between his legs on the longest part of his couch, facing the same direction as you took in the whiteboards while absorbing all the information that was being relayed to the group. With a harsh swallow, you risked peeking at everyone else’s reactions — quickly scanning the room with your eyes.

Mike’s usually sour expression looked far more sad than it usually did. He only ever looked like that when El was in danger, or things were spiraling out of control. He sat on top of the coffee table with his elbows in his lap, crouched forward and staring a hole into one of the whiteboards. Dustin’s mouth was agape, and his unusual silence was loud. He hadn’t said a word from where he sat on the couch next to Erica. Will sat on the other side of Jonathan, brow furrowed and heart blue. He knew the risks being taken, and it hurt his soul seeing that he would be apart from his mom and brother. He felt as though he always had been, ever since this all began, and it seemed to be a never ending circumstance. Lucas was taking it all in from his seat on the leg of the couch, hands wrung and expression reserved — but defeated. He’d really grown into a young man this past year, and he’d been taking so much in stride. But even so, he looked conflicted. Really conflicted.

After taking in the kids’ reactions, your eyes swept over to Robin and Eddie. She was seated in the giant loveseat, per usual, with Eddie perched on the arm of it. You narrowed your eyes as you caught sight of Robin fiddling her thumbs, eyes darting up and down from her fingers to the adults with the whiteboards. Eddie was bouncing his knee anxiously, nibbling at his fingernails — which were already bitten to stubs. While the two of them looked to be taking this hard, the way that the rest of you were…they also seemed to be absorbing it a bit differently. As if maybe they had a hunch about it already…

It wasn’t until Erica stood up to sit by Lucas with zero prompt that you felt slightly suspicious. Because as she did, Robin shot a very quick tight-lipped smile in Erica’s direction with eyes that radiated sympathy. Did they know this was coming? Is that why Erica had come upstairs with the cookies and milk later than the rest of the kids?

You sighed through your nose, focusing back on Hopper as he gestured for Dr. Owens to stand up with them. The older man made his way to the center of the tense room, hands dug deeply into his pockets and wearing a very sympathetic smile.

“I’m really grateful you all have put a lot of faith in me, despite everything,” he said humbly. “Truthfully, it’s not owed. I know that. Still…I promise you’re in good hands with me. Not those guys out there. Hence why I’m here. And I know you’d have already figured out by now if I was still working for that side of things. Between El and Will, and all of you crazy smart folks, I’m outnumbered.”

He added a light chuckle at the end that nobody returned. Dr. Owens sighed, taking no offense. He knew this was not going to be taken well.

“I’m in this fight with you,” he said, stronger than how he spoke before. There was conviction in his tone that he never really used, and it only heightened just how severe things currently were. “If it were up to me? None of you would be out there. I’d be out there on the frontlines. But…given Max’s comatose state, and Bauman’s heart condition, I know I’m needed here. Which is just as big a risk that’s being taken out on the battlefield, because we’re staying in Hawkins as the evacuation notice and mandate goes into effect. The city will be swarmed with government officials who are all behind this. We’ll be surrounded from all angles. No one is safe.”

You’re pretty sure that Steve had stopped breathing at this point, and the veins that prominently stuck out from his arms tightly wound around you made your throat close up.

“I’ll be here to monitor Max, along with Bauman. I’ve got plenty of medication to help steady the heart arrhythmia, and anything vital needed for a medical emergency — on anyone’s behalf, not just Bauman’s and Mayfield’s.”

“But…what happens if…”

A tight voice made everyone’s heads whip in its direction. It was Dustin speaking, eyes wide with fear. He wasn't being his usual cocky, overly confident self. He looked and sounded genuinely fearful.

“…what happens if we’re caught? What do we do? Where do we go?”

Murray sighs, stepping forward. “We’ve thought about that. Right now, there’s only 2 options. But they’re solid. The best we’ve got right now. One more than the other. See, look —”

Murray went into detail about an abort-mission plan, but it sounded distorted in your ears as the gravity of the situation weighed down on top of your shoulders: you were all splitting up. And this time might be the last time.

At some point, Mike had started to finally come to life. His snark was returning, but even he wavered and the fear in his voice wasn’t concealed. Hopper and El had to level with him, which only flustered Mike and caused him to stutter. They had him beat, and he knew it. He wanted to storm off, but Erica had told him to sit his ass down and listen. It was so unexpected that he did as she said. But your own brain was playing it all in slow motion. As Will began asking questions with Dustin, you could see how Lucas had looked like he wanted to ask Erica if she might have already known something — but he didn’t. Dr. Owens was saying something about Will being tied to the other side of things and being the assigned “El” of their group opposite of her, which fired up Mike as he demanded to know why the hell that required him to be out of the group heading to the frontlines alongside his girlfriend. Before Hopper could even respond, Eddie was jumping into action along with Jonathan — coming to the retired cop’s defense. That only bewildered Mike more, which fueled Dustin’s confusion into high gear as he made arguments alongside Mike. Lucas had thrown his voice into the mix, but when Erica’s was louder — telling them all to listen, for the love of god listen, and Lucas stared at her in silent bemusement. Will was weakly pleading with them all to please calm down, along with Joyce, who shot Argyle (of all people) a desperate look, and he made his way over to sit down next to Will and tell him it was going to be alright.

“NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS ALRIGHT,” Mike cried, angry and sad and scared in the way a child made to grow up too soon has every right to be.

“Mike, please,” Nancy’s voice trembled, her blue eyes glassy.

“Nancy, this isn’t okay!!!” Mike wailed.

“M-Mike,” Nancy stammered, her own emotions giving her a shake she couldn’t stop. “Just l-listen to me…”

“No, you never listen to me!!!” Mike bawled. “Never!!!”

“Hey hey, Wheeler, hey.”

Steve finally found his voice as he reluctantly made his way to stand up away from you and approach his kid that was having an absolute breakdown. Mike was still wailing, but as Steve approached with an unwavering look in his eye — baby Wheeler allowed for the group's assigned babysitter to actually place his hands on his shoulders and try to level with him. Mike’s face crumbled, his words not making any sense the more he stumbled over them. All that could be made out was something he was trying to say towards El — something about why and how could you and tell them I’m coming — which made Steve get a firm grip on his shoulders as he told him not to blame her for this. After all, Steve had all the experience in the world as far as wrongfully placing blame on someone else was concerned…and it made your entire body ache as you watched him soothe Mike, who just bawled and mumbled nonsense in his hold.

El began to cry, too, leaning into Hopper — whose bottom lip trembled. He bit down on it hard and willed it to stop, his eyes overwhelmed with everything that was unraveling before his eyes.

Dustin was going back and forth with Erica, but he sounded so pitiful it made your uneven heart crack. He kept looking over at Steve, begging him to understand. Please Steve, please, let me go with you. Eddie moved to immediately hold him, crushing him in more of a death grip than a hug. The metalhead mumbled into his curly hair — not this time, kiddo, not this time. Robin had a hand clamped over her mouth, emotions taking over as she barely managed to bite them back.

You stood up instantly, moving to hold Buckley. She didn’t hesitate to make room for you on the seat, letting you take her in your arms as she shook like a leaf. You gently swayed her side to side with you, murmuring quiet little words that were meant to be comforting — knowing they weren’t, but offering them anyway.

Your eyes met Jonathan’s across the room as he swayed with Will as well. His pupils were blown, consumed with dread and drowning in pure misery, and you knew that yours weren’t much different.

Mike had buried his face into Steve’s chest at this point, and it made Nancy cry into her own palms as she curled in on herself.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, voice cracking at the end. She looked at Hopper and your uncle, eyes guilty and full of shame. “I - I’m sorry.”

Before you could even process what just happened, Nancy was barreling up the stairs. Jonathan watched her go, panicking. He looked at Will, then at you — eyes pleading. You didn’t even let a second pass before you’d squeezed Robin to signal her, standing up to bring her over to where Will was seated. You took Jonathan’s place as he went after Nancy, holding him tight as Robin leaned against you on your opposite side. Argyle kept a kind hand on Will’s shoulder, still sitting to the other of him.

“Steve, please, you die I die, remember?”

Dustin’s whimpered words had to have been the saddest plea you’d ever heard in your life. Steve almost broke but before he could he flung an arm to sweep Dustin into his hold, as baby Wheeler kept bawling into his chest. He held them both steady, letting them fall apart in his protective arms and doing everything in his power not to break down with them. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d failed them. But to Steve’s dismay…he did anyway. He ducked his head down, shaking against the two of his kids, letting himself silently weep with them. For them.

Lucas looked utterly heartbroken, which Erica noticed. The youngest Sinclair cast aside all her pride, looking at her older brother with the most sympathy and love she could have towards anyone in this world, and she threw her arms around him. He only let it shock him for a second before he held her back, a grateful silence falling over them both.

You felt tears of your own begin to brim your eyes, but before letting them fall you looked up towards the adults…seeing your uncle first. Murray looked back at you with every ounce of empathy and solace that could be found inside his dark soul.

You gave him a soft nod, silently communicating with him. I understand. I’m sorry you had to deliver this news, but I’m here and I understand.

And he returned the soft nod, lips pressed into a thin line but communicating back through eye contact and body language. I love you and I hate this. But I’ve got you.

Dimitri stood next to him, eyes somber and downcast. He was new to the picture, but having seen the other side of things and just how bad a toll this has clearly taken on you all — he mourned for everyone’s pain.

Dr. Owens had to sit down, unable to speak and wringing his hands.

Hopper and Joyce held each other, along with El. They looked at each other, devastated but steadfast.

This plan was not open for discussion.

This plan was not open for debate.

This plan was final.

And so you let the tears crawl over the edges of your eyes, feeling them skate down your cheeks as you clung to Will and Robin and felt the world sit on top of your shoulders.

***

-- so as you can see, shit's getting intense. the gut-wrenching angst approaching has me overwhelmed but I'm so sickeningly happy about it. suffice it to say, Steve & Bauman are my Roman Empire and they are endgame. so if that gives you any sort of hope, given the inevitable doom that is in store for them and everyone else involved...then yay.

<3 this story forever lives on. forever and ever amen. - misha

TAGLIST (ILYSM) If I forgot you or you wanna be added, lmk :)

@aloneinthehellfire @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst bookkeeperlove notlilyyyy @goosy-goose nevillescomslut

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #mishas masterlists #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut #joe keery #oh so we do love steve #steve and bauman #murray bauman #jopper #jim hopper #jonathan byers #stancy #sorry stancy

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tbhimnoteasyonmyself · 2 months

Text

WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH PHEE?

(and other equally puzzling things)

An EXTREMELY EXTENSIVE Post-Episode 10 Analysis/Theory

So, okay. Episode 10 was A LOT. Like... A LOT, A LOT. And a lot of this lot seems... Weird as fuck. So many odd choices were made in the narrative.

Top's drugged manipulation; White pulling info about shrooms out of his ass; Fluke becoming a victim of involuntary drug abuse ghosts of his past and begging for mercy after "all he did to Non"... But nothing beats Phee's OOC moments in ep.10 while he's alone with Jin.

Which is what compels me to make this post. Because this series has been nothing but the richness of detail and now suddenly... It's all over the place? Call it wishful thinking (or Last Twilight trauma) but I don't think so. And it mostly comes down to: Phee. And whatever his "agenda" is.

PS: All screenshots of the show I use (and I will use a lot) will have been brightened because this show is FUCKING DARK, BOYYYYYY and I don't think y'all deserve to force your sight at 3AM to enjoy my posts.

WHAT HAPPENS AND WHY IT'S SUSPICIOUS

So? What does Phee say and do when he's alone with Jin in ep.10 and why am I suspicious of it?

It's hard to say for sure. But we can base ourselves off of 3 things: what we hear him say, what Jin replies to him and the flashbacks (no, they're not just there to fill in time for this very short episode, they serve a narrative purpose).

So let's do this analysis following the order in which things are shown to us, shall we?

First of all, we get a short flashback. The events are as follows:

Phee and New go to see the gang's film

New approaches Phee and they talk

New and Phee decide to try and figure out what happened to Non by infiltrating the group

New and Phee join the gang's school and start asking question

Jin decides to leave Thailand

New suggests going to Por's mansion for the goodbye party

Phee questions New in the lab about his decisions

New suggests using their homemade drug on the group as a truth serum

Phee asks if the drug is deadly and New denies it

Although we don't hear Phee tell this to Jin, Jin does reply very angrily something along the lines of "and you just let him carry on with it? why didn't you stop him? what the fuck is wrong with y'all???", so we can assume we've been shown what Phee told him.

So far, it's very unsuspicious. We've been shown these events before in the actual flashbacks so we can be fairly sure all of that is true.

It starts to get suspicious, however, when Phee replies to him: "There's so much more that you don't understand. About Non, and Tan".

And I think Jin feels the vibe too because, the man standing on his tall pillar of morality and righteousness /s, says he'll give Phee another chance to cut the bullshit and tell him everything. And so Phee sighs and the dreaded narration of ✨New's Murderous Adventures✨ starts.

So Phee tells Jin (and consequently us) that:

Phee and New set up a bunch of cameras to spy on the gang

New drugged the drinks

It was supposed to end when everyone was high at the party but New didn't follow the plan

New deleted the camera files

Phee kept drugging the group

Por's injury wasn't an accident but a trap that he thinks New set

New's drug enhances people's inner fears

Phee "never thought New would be so cruel with Uncle Dang"

New drugged Top at the temple

New must've left the hard disk for White to find

By the time he figured New's plan, there was nothing he could do about it (and we see him looking distressed at New's arrival at the house)

Now, here we have some interesting things. Let me list them for you.

Why would Phee keep drugging the group after Por got hurt?? If, as he claims, he didn't mean for people to get hurt, why would he keep people on drugs while a man is dying on the couch? Especially when the guy you're on a revenge mission with is ELIMINATING THE CONTENT OF THE CAMERA RECORDINGS!! That sure isn't gonna help anyone survive!

How does Phee know about Top??? He and Jin never saw Top arrive at the house. For all they know, that bro is lost in the woods. Right??

HOW THE FUCK DOES HE KNOW WHITE GOT THE HARD DRIVE??? There's no signal in the woods. We've established that. When White tells Tee and New about his actions they're ALONE. The only other person there is LITERALLY THE MASKY (I'm calling the masked person that for convenience, it's shorter. besides, it seems the fandom has been calling them that anyways, so... yeah). So how does he know? How does he know???

And in that same fucking sequence: THE MASKY TRIES TO HURT NEW!!! Bu if New told Top to hurt everyone who hurt Non, why would he hurt him??? And why, my friends, WHY would he SAVE TEE, when he's the only witness of those events??? It would be so easy to just say the masky killed Tee and he couldn't save him... Is it 4D chess??? Is it a different masky??? Or, is it simply not true that New did that?

It's very confusing, weird and suspicious. But let's wait it out, guys, because there's more to PheeJin in the temple.

After this odd-ass narration, they're back to having a convo. Which goes as follows:

Jin (very validly) asks Phee what the fuck is wrong with him and New

Phee says he'd never allow them to go if he knew New was going for murder instead of just confessions ("you can hate me if you want but I never wanted anyone to get hurt, I swear" or whatever he said)

Jin asks if Tan is New and Phee is Non's boyfriend

Phee confirms Jin's suspicions and even adds that "p'New came back from England"

Jin asks if they ever saw the group as their friends

Phee says they wanted to infiltrate the group to find the truth because they didn't know shit about what happened to Non and it's haunting them (good choice of words there, very subtle /s)

Phee explains his motivation, stating he told Non to "get lost and die"

Jin confesses to recording the child grooming revenge porn tape and posting it on Twitter (-_-)

Jin explains his motivation, saying he respected Non's relationship (by constantly making moves on him?) but couldn't stand him cheating on Phee (so he one-upped him by committing not one but two actual severe crimes?)

Phee appears to be mad and disgusted so he says "Fuck. So we both were the ones who hurt Non?", gets up and starts pacing (oh no! the big boy is angy~~~ /s)

Jin gets up like a sad wet cat

Phee randomly finds an axe and takes some exposition out of his ass by stating "this must be Tan's axe that he keeps as a spare. But it's good"

Phee breaks the gate

So by this point Phee's whole speech sounds a bit insane, considering the type of person we've seen he is. Not to mention he just INSTANTLY calms down upon finding an axe and just decides to move on. Like ??? Excuse me??? If that ain't weird then idk what is. Like, sure, Phee is a very confusing and confused character (as better explored by @crysta1ized in this post). He seems to have his heart divided between many things and they could all be pulling at his strings there. HOWEVER, we have to remember Phee's also THIS guy:

Does this look like the kind of person who would just move on after a (perceived) treason? Does he??

And, the thing about this is that it gets worse.

After the scene cuts back from the house, Pheejin are lost in the damn woods (parallels to New and Tee? mayhaps, man, mayhaps...) These are the events there:

Phee is back to supporting Jin's weight with his body while they walk (which makes no fucking sense bc Jin hurt his SHOULDER which is a part of his UPPER BODY so there's no reason why he couldn't walk on his own but okay, sure)

They make no progress walking for a while, even despite trying to mark the places they've already been at

Jin is very upset that Phee's not very good at navigating through unknown forests at night

Phee, however, is very understanding and says: "Jin. I told you that I would be the one who would protect you. So I'll get you out of here" then PROCEEDS TO HOLD HANDS with him and continues with: "Right now, our friends are waiting for us to help them. So, you must stay strong. Believe in me"

-Jin nods (because, despite trying to play the apathetic bitch, he's a softie and very much has feelings™)

-PheeJin finally find the exit of the fucking forest

DO Y'ALL SEE HOW SOMETHING'S VERY WRONG WITH PHEE HERE??? Bro's not just acting weird (that would be fine, we love weirdos. *looks at New and winks* <3), he's abnormal. He's not acting like himself.

So, before I jump into trying to make some sense out of all of this, I'll just add the last scene of PheeJin alone in ep.10, last anyone come tell me I missed it:

They're arriving at the mansion

Jin falls down

Phee abandons the axe to help him

I don't think this one is particularly relevant to analyse Phee's character in this episode (although the axe is certainly relevant for other plots and our dear 9th person) but it's there. After this, they're back in the house with everyone and Por's rotting corpse.

PHEE IS HIDING THINGS

So what the fuck happened, really? Well, a lot. Some are easier, I think, to interpret, some aren't but regardless, there was a lot going on with Phee. To make this very complex thing a bit easier to understand, I'll start from the things I think are a bit easier to explain and/or are more solid and then I'll move from there towards the rest of this mess. Okay? Ok- (gets shot bc I hate John Green).

One thing for me that's nearly set in stone is that Phee, at the very least, isn't telling Jin everything. If he was, then the flashbacks would've started with PheeNon's falling love montage but they don't. They start at the cinema. Plus, Jin has to ask if Phee is Non's boyfriend and Tan is New, like he's piecing things by himself. If Phee had told him that, he wouldn't need to ask. AND Phee would've have referred to New as New during his whole monologue but he did not. He kept saying "Tan". He only started doing so after Jin asked the question and he confirmed Tan was New.

Curiously enough, he also never mentions the antidote he knows exists and KNOWS New brought along. And that neither of them ever used on the others.

The million-dollar question here is then, naturally: why? Various reasons, I believe.

1st of all I think we have to account for the feels. Phee is definitely in a weird ass zone with Jin but it's something. And he feels that something (whatever it is. believe me I could make an entire post about that shit, it's so fucking complex, man, and it only gets worse this episode). He likes Jin, even if he tries not to or if he dislikes that he likes him. It's undeniable. So yes, of course, he doesn't want Jin to hate his guts more than necessary.

But also... We cannot forget why Phee himself is there: to find out what happened to Non. And what does he get out of the conversation he has with Jin? That's right. A confession.

Now, I don't think it's the confession he expected if his reactions are anything to go by:

I mean... If this is not the face of a man thinking "well, shit", then idk what it is. And also because, idk if it's a subtitle error or not, but he seems to ask "what did you three do?" when he's inquiring about the events of the past, so...

Someone is being excluded.

Still, I think it's super possible he was hoping to get something out of it. After all, even if he assumes Jin is innocent in his actions, I don't think he's excluding him from having knowledge of what went down. That would make his positive bias even sillier.

So yeah, sure, I bet Phee feels genuinely guilty and it hurts him to be in the situation he's in and he definitely wants to be in a good place in terms of his relationship with Jin, especially because, as he said, he doesn't know if they can get out of the temple. But also... As Ta (Phee's actor) himself said in an interview: Phee can be really manipulative (I can't find the damn interview rn but, during my search, I found @raelle-writing had also mentioned it in this post, so I think it's enough to say I didn't dream that shit). You know... 2 things can be true at once.

Which brings me to the next part:

PHEE IS LYING

That whole talk of "I never thought he would hurt you", "if I had known I wouldn't have let you come", blah, blah, blah. That's some major BULLSHIT.

Phee knew exactly what New was capable of. At least, on a subconscious level. After all, if my friends started being murdered, my 1st assumption would not be that my best friend did it. Unless, of course, my best friend was spiralling down to madness, constantly using drugs to see his dead brother and answering shit like this:

With a smirk on, when I ask him if the absynthe is gonna kill our friends. Because yeah, sure, I guess the green won't kill them. But you can't tell me this motherfucker wouldn't. He definitely would. And if we can infer that, so does Phee, who has been living with him as his close friend for the last 3 years.

In fact, the very fact that he feels the need to ask whether or not the drugs will kill the gang is proof enough that he, to some extent and, whether or not he's aware of it, KNOWS that's, at least, a possibility. Knows that's something New would do.

So yeah, he's perhaps not just lying to Jin (but also to himself) or not intentionally lying, but he's lying nevertheless. Phee knew this was a possibility. He knew New was capable of stuff like that. And when he pieces the story together, that's him admitting, even if no one realizes, that he knew it. And that he let it happen, in fact, because he never tried to stop the drugging. Or talked to New about what was going on (you'd think if he had that he would've told Jin in that situation). His biggest weapon is his knowledge and he chose not to swing the sword sooner. How very Fluke of him, isn't it? Especially because now 2 people are dead and that's on New, right? Right???

Not necessarily.

NEW IS NOT A MURDERER (initially)

You see, for all we see New is fine with death and murder in episodes 9 and 10, he makes it clear his nº1 goal is to figure out what happened to Non when he gets in front of a fucking firearm to harass Tee into talking.

So why would he talk Top into murder? Why would Top attack him?? Why would he kill Uncle Dang?? And why, on the goddamn Earth, would he eliminate the recordings in the house when his whole motivation is

(Thank you, hallucination Non <;3) to expose them??? Especially when the only other person who knew about the hidden cameras was Phee. It makes no sense! Sure, he might've contemplated the murder, but on a later phase of the plan, I think. The priority was, always, to get them to confess on camera so he could later use the recordings to expose them to the country and clear Non's image. 'Cause we cannot forget, while the people close to Non don't buy the bullshit TV news sensationalist story (and, therefore, are searching for the truth), the rest of the country thinks Non is a slut who ran away with mafia money and his teacher(because, like @delululover explains in this post: Asian culture tends to normalize grooming of older teens and even blame them for the situation).

So what are we seeing when Phee narrates the events? Well, probably just Phee's guesses.

He thinks New is deranged and has drugs and that Top is missing and now they're being attacked by this person, who is conveniently wearing a mask. So he guesses that's Top. Plus, he doesn't know New was attacked by Masky in the middle of the forest.

He knows, like everyone else, that New had the hard drive. And, when Top and New go out in the woods with the bike he remains in the house. So, it's possible he saw the hard drive there where New left it before he went out.

And, because the only 2 people remaining in the house, as far as Phee knows, are Fluke and White, and New DEFINITELY wouldn't want the drive to get into Fluke's hands, he must've assumed New wanted White to find it (which may or may not be true but it's irrelevant, I think).

And, yes, calm down, I can hear you scream: "But how did he know White watched the video???" And the answer I bring you is very simple: he didn't. He has no idea. And the best part is: you only think he knows because you know. But Phee never says that. He says New left the hard drive there for White to find. And that's it. He never mentions a video whatsoever.

Now, is it convoluted? Yes. Absolutely. But we have to think this is Phee we're talking about. He's the guy who always thinks he has the upper hand (a.k.a thinking he can save Non or that he's not falling in Love with Jin). It's almost impossible for him to think he's in the dark as to what is happening to them. After all, in his narrative of his life, he is the hero. And, I know, lots of people in the fandom see it that way as well, so... It's not impossible to imagine that's what the story is trying to sell us. It's trying to make us believe Phee knows. When in reality, I think, it's more likely that Phee's the embodiment of this meme:

Okay. But then if New didn't do it, then who did? Because something is obviously going on with Top, right? And Uncle Dang IS very much dead. So what the fuck is that all about?

THE SECRET 9TH PERSON? ENTITY? THING?

As discussed several times by several people in this fandom, there's a very high possibility that there's someone else with them in the woods.

@blmpff points out the existence of various versions of the mask here. @subtextsays points out the crutches in the bathroom scene with Top here. There's this shit:

Whatever it fucking means (besides the fact that it gives me the hibbie jibbies). Someone is also obviously taking care of the Janta cult because there's fresh food in the offerings.

@raelle-writing also points out here that New is also seeing stuff even though our favourite insane motherfucker has got (and has been using!) the antidote.

And, as of episode 10, as @babyangelsky pointed out in this post. When PheeJin are lost in the damn woods, the cuts on the wood Phee supposedly make keep changing.

Which makes both of us question if they're all the same cut or even all done by Phee.

So, I think this is enough to speculate Phee could very much just be misinterpreting the whole thing and attributing guilt to New when, in fact, someone else has been causing the deaths.

Now you may question who and that's all very fair. You should even. But that is not what this post is about and, frankly, thank god, because this is already a monstrous creation.

So let's pick this cut these cuts in the wood and use it as a segway to the last part of this, shall we?

PHEE IS AS BENEVOLENT AS A GREEK GOD

So Phee's mad. Super mad. He's passing around and cursing.

Jin, the only person he probably genuinely thought didn't do anything, is the one who recorded and posted the video.

And then Phee finds an axe. And, suddenly, Phee changes. Why?

Well, we have to look at it with what urges Phee to talk in the first place (besides his feelings and his wants): Phee is losing hope. He states it himself that he doesn't think they're going to be able to get out of the temple. So, he talks. Sure, he doesn't say everything but it's the closest to being honest with Jin we've ever seen him be.

And then their whole reality changes. Because Phee found an axe. And it all comes down on him: they are going to get out of there. And what now?

As @yellingaboutkp states in this post Phee is not only hard to read for us or confusing to the other characters (Jin mainly). He's also hard to read and confusing to himself: "...is Phee still playing Jin? It seems like he's trying to, but the more time he spends with Jin, the harder it's getting to stick to the plan."

Thus, what we see at the end of their time in the temple and alone in the woods is a mix of things, I believe.

Phee needs to feel like he's in control again. And with the original plan being ruined and Jin knowing too much (and there's no way he's not gonna speak, in fact, it's the very first thing he does when they arrive at he house) he's simply not. So when he tells Jin everything is gonna be alright, he's also trying to tell that to himself. He's trying to reassure himself that they're gonna get out of that huge mess. And, perhaps, in saving Jin also finding some redemption because, according to his own narration of the events, he let New go to far (as Jin points out).

Phee also knows more now. And maybe, if he was able to get Jin to speak once, without even having to force anything out of him. who knows if he cannot do it a second time in front of the cameras they've set inside the house? So he's trying to follow the script and manipulate him into trusting him, like he always has been trying to do. Except this time he's more bitter about it. And this, alongside with reason 1, is why these two scenes feel so different:

And lastly: Phee knows the catastrophic effects his words and actions had on Non when they broke up. He knows the consequences of his rage. It's the entire reason why he's there. Because he failed at being a good boyfriend the 1st time. Does he really want that to happen again? Does he want to fail Jin too? There's a reason (besides the story itself and his need to justify himself to Jin) why we see that flashback of his break-up with Non in this episode. And I believe this is it. (so yeah, I understand it might be frustrating to see Phee be more benevolent to Jin who fucked up big time than Non who didn't do anything, it is EXACTLY because he wasn't benevolent to Non that Jin is getting princess treatment)

So, in conclusion: Phee is fucking confused. And it carries on being that way for the rest of the episode. Phee calls New out but he doesn't seem to care too much about Por being dead on the couch. He helps Phee on the ground, but he doesn't say a thing about Fluke pointing a gun at Tee. Sure, he does ask for the gun at a certain point but isn't that just more of Phee's desperate need to get control back?

And we see this all come down to the preview of the next episode and what it's probably going to mean:

Phee finally has got things under his control again. But this means, surprise, surprise, that Phee's gotta make a choice: to shoot (and stand on New's side) or not to shoot (and stand on the gang's side). Which, of course, metaphorically is a choice, in good romance and BL fashion, between 2 lovers: Non and Jin. But also, in good storytelling, as, once again, @raelle-writing (can't help myself, Rae's posts are FIRE 🔥🔥 sksksksksks) explores better in this post: a choice between the past and the present; continuing to drown in grief and a wish for revenge or choosing to move on and heal.

And, as I (YES, if I'm gonna tag a bunch of people and their works, YOU BET, I'm gonna link my own stuff) explore in this post about White's identity and role in the story (and other people in the fandom have commented), I'm inclined to believe he's gonna pick the gang, Jin, the present, healing. Because this is a story about the damage caused by cycles of violence and grief. And a story about how, the only way to stop them, is to choose not to participate in them by letting go.

CONCLUSION

Thank you for your time and attention. Feel free to comment and discuss this with me. And I'll see you either on my next long-ass monologue or next Saturday as we watch episode 11!

All the love 💜💜💜

PS: Shout-out to the group chat, including, but not limited to: @ayansbff, @cyberstalking and @squishysquadstuff who have listened to me ranting about this post since Saturday and told me to eat when I was too focused on writing it. Your patience was fundamental in carrying me through this monstrous project (it took me 10 hours to write this all) 💜💜💜.

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justabigassnerd · 1 year

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I'm Right Here

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 3,515

Warnings - mentions of kidnappings, angst, but mostly fluff/comfort

Summary - You wander off during Maverick's volleyball match sending both you and him into a panic

A/N - it's a Maverick fic y'all!!!! I really enjoyed getting to explore what Mav would be like as a father, especially during the events of '86 Top Gun and I've also learnt that writing Goose and Mav's dynamic is my new favourite thing I love them. This was a request I was sent in and I hope I did it justice! I also just wanna say that watching the volleyball scene back showed me that they weren't actually on the beach so I set it kinda near the beach but not at the beach if that makes sense? Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

“Alright squirt, are you ready to see me and Uncle Goose beat Ice and Slider in volleyball?” Maverick asks with a grin as he scoops you up, making you squeal happily as you hug your dad tightly.

“Uncle Ice!” You cheer happily, excited at the thought of seeing Iceman. Maverick chuckles lightly at your words.

“You’re well on your way to breaking Goose’s heart, darling.” Maverick laughs before pressing a kiss to your temple. Since moving to Miramar to attend Top Gun, you’d decided Iceman was one of your new favourite people and Maverick saw how Ice looked out for you and appreciated it, regardless of their rivalry. Now, it meant that Goose was facing competition for the title of best uncle and Maverick thought it was hilarious.

“Let’s make sure we have everything packed so we can go to the beach once we’re done.” Maverick says and the second the beach is mentioned, you’re squirming to get out of his arms to gather the things you want to take with you to the beach. Maverick grabs a bag and lets you pack what you want while he packs some food to take to the beach. Once the bag is packed, Maverick helps you put your shoes on and as he straightens up and slings the bag over his shoulder, a knock at the door rings out.

“Hey, Goose.” Maverick greets his RIO with a smile as he opens the door.

“Hey, Mav.” Goose beams, giving Maverick a high-five as you notice Goose’s presence.

“Uncle Goose!” You yell excitedly, running to him as quickly as your legs could take you.

“Hey, pipsqueak! How’s my favourite Mitchell doing?” Goose says as he picks you up when you hold your arms up. Goose laughed when he saw Maverick’s narrowed eyes at his question.

“Those are brave words coming from someone whose position of favourite uncle is being threatened by Iceman.” Maverick says cockily as he slips his aviators on and grabs his keys before he brushes past Goose to exit the house, leaving Goose shocked as you giggled at his expression. Maverick would usually take his motorbike to the volleyball court but with you coming too he opted to walk instead. He didn’t live too far from the court and Goose offered to walk with you, so it was decided that the trio would walk.

“Mav is that- y/n, you prefer Uncle Goose to Iceman, right?” Goose asks desperately, maybe too desperately given that he was begging for approval from a three-year-old but being your godfather and had been your favourite uncle since you were born, he was willing to fight to hold on to that title.

“I love Uncle Goosey!” You say with a grin, making Goose nod in approval as he follows Maverick down the path.

“And I love Uncle Ice.” You admit which makes Maverick double over laughing when Goose’s smile drops from his face instantly. He quickly recovers and smiles at you once more.

“You’re going to break hearts when you’re older.” Goose says with a chuckle as you gesture that you want to be put down.

“We are not thinking about that Goose, stop talking.” Maverick says quickly, covering Goose’s mouth to stop him from talking any more. You were barely three years old, and Maverick was already dreading the day you’d grow up and start dating. As the three of you walked to the volleyball court, you kept running ahead, distracted by your surroundings and as Maverick turned his attention back to you, he found you almost wandering off.

“y/n/n, come here please!” He calls for you and you run right back to him. Maverick knelt down just before you reached him and he took your small hands in his.

“You can’t wander off, sweetheart, okay? Make sure you’re always in my sight, or Uncle Goose’s. Does that sound okay?” Maverick asks, his eyes searching yours as you nod.

“Okay, daddy.” You say with a large Cheshire cat grin that Maverick can’t help but mirror. Maverick then stands up to his full height and takes your hand once more, continuing the walk. When the three of you reach the court, you see Iceman and immediately, run up to him, demanding you get a hug as you greet him and of course, Iceman complies. As Iceman gives you a hug, Slider gives you a high-five, both men doting on you as Maverick puts the bag down and takes his jacket and top off, ready to play volleyball.

“Iceman, Slider, I thought we were here to play volleyball not to fawn over my kid.” Maverick calls over to the two as he puts his shirt and jacket on the bleachers that the bag is sitting next to.

“Don’t be jealous just because you’re not the centre of attention, Maverick.” Slider taunts as Iceman places you back on the floor, letting you run back over to Maverick who scoops you up and sits you on the bottom bleacher, next to the bag and his shirt and jacket.

“You stay right here and guard my stuff okay kiddo?” Maverick asks with a smile as Goose ruffles your hair lightly. You nod at Maverick’s words and attempt to slide Maverick’s jacket on, both of you laughing at the sheer size of it compared to you.

“It’ll fit you one day, kid.” Maverick grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he and Goose cross to the court to begin the match against Iceman and Slider.

At first, you watched the match diligently. You laughed when your dad and Goose would happily celebrate scoring a point with a double high-five. Your attention slowly slipped away from the match and onto your dad’s jacket you since had taken off, tracing the images on the patches until something fluttered past you, tearing your attention away from the jacket completely. You see a small bird staring at you, head tilting as it flicks its tail. Entranced by the bird you hopped off the seat and walked towards it. The bird fluttered away slightly before landing back on the ground again, turning back to face you and flicking its tail once more, seemingly instigating a game of cat and mouse. You continue to follow the bird, giggling as it flies a few meters away and yet still turns to see if you are following it. After a while, you and the bird came to a standstill, staring at each other and as you waved at it, the bird hopped a little closer to you, inspecting you curiously as it chirped, flicked its tail once more and then finally took off into the sky. You watched it fly high into the sky, waving goodbye at it as it joined its fellow birds who soared in the sky with it. When you finally tore your eyes away from the birds in the sky, you looked around you and had a sudden and horrible realisation that you had no idea where you were, or where your dad was.

Back at the volleyball court, the aviators had just wrapped up their match, with Iceman and Slider securing a strong victory as they celebrated loudly. Maverick had grumbled about how he was going to beat Iceman and win the Top Gun trophy to prove that this volleyball match meant nothing. When he approached the bleacher to grab his shirt and jacket so he could go to the beach with you and Goose where you’d meet with Carole and Bradley. When he reached the bleacher, he noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around as he pulled on his shirt and tugged his jacket on, the panic in his eyes hidden by his aviators.

“Goose, have you seen y/n?” Maverick says when he senses the presence of his RIO, turning to face him. Maverick’s worry only increases when Goose shakes his head.

“Last time I saw her you sat her here before the match.” Goose’s response made Maverick’s breath hitch in his throat. He felt panic rising within him as he looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere. Having heard Maverick’s panicked breaths, Goose placed his hands on his pilot's shoulders, getting Maverick’s focus on him.

“Mav, we’re going to find her, okay? She can’t have gotten far. We’ll find her.” Goose said reassuringly. As a father, Goose understood Maverick’s panic. There was one time Goose lost sight of Bradley in a store and Goose nearly had an aneurysm thinking someone had taken him. Thankfully, he found Bradley in the sweet aisle, his little hands grabbing at as many colourful packets as he could. Goose had never felt a relief quite like finding Bradley again and he scooped his son up in his arms and held him tight, instructing him to never do that again. Iceman and Slider, noticing the panic between Maverick and Goose, came jogging over to the two after throwing their shirts on.

“What’s going on?” Iceman asks, eyebrow raised as he glances between Goose and Maverick as he tries to assess the situation.

“We can’t find y/n.” Goose says, hardly removing his focus from Maverick so he could focus on keeping Maverick from hyperventilating. At Goose’s words, Iceman and Slider exchanged a worried look before turning back to Goose.

“Come on Slider. We’ll look around for her.” Iceman says to Goose who nods quickly before resuming his focus on Maverick. The pilot and RIO duo take off in a random direction, calling your name and looking around for you or anyone who might’ve seen you. Meanwhile, Goose was still focusing on keeping Maverick with a clear head so he could focus on finding his daughter.

“Deep breaths, Mav. We can ask around while Ice and Slider look for her.” Goose says as Maverick takes his aviators off, wiping at his eyes fiercely.

“What if someone took her? Or she gets hurt? I can’t lose my little girl, Goose.” Maverick says worriedly, more tears working their way down his cheeks.

“We’ll find her. Come on, let’s ask around and see if anyone has seen what direction she went off in.” Goose says with a gentle smile, encouraging Maverick to follow him so the pair could ask fellow navy personnel if they had seen where you might’ve gone.

You were still confused and lost. You hadn’t moved from where you realised you were lost, too scared to move so you stayed put, bawling your eyes out as you hoped your dad would find you. There was no one around to help you. In your fear, you sat on the floor, not knowing what else to do other than cry.

“y/n! y/n, where are y-” Iceman cut himself off when you came into his line of sight. Your head shot up at hearing Iceman’s voice, but your cries didn’t slow.

“Ice!” You managed to cry out as the blond pilot ran over to you, kneeling down and assessing you for any injuries before you threw yourself into his arms, tears pouring down your face.

“Slider, go and get Maverick, now.” Iceman instructs his RIO as you bury your face in his shoulder. Slider nods and without hesitation turns to run back in the direction of the volleyball court to track down Maverick.

“I want my daddy.” You whimper into Iceman’s shoulder as he moves to hug you.

“I know sweetheart. Slider’s gone to find your dad, okay? They’ll be here soon.” Iceman whispers reassuringly, glancing around as if that would bring Maverick to you quicker. You hadn’t wandered massively far from the court, but Iceman understood that what is a simple path to him would not be the same to a three-year-old. After a couple of minutes of Iceman whispering words of reassurance and promising you that your dad is coming, Maverick appears with Goose and Slider hot on his heels.

“Daddy!” You cry out when you see Maverick, quickly wiggling out of Iceman’s arms and into Maverick’s as he bends down to pick you up, setting you on his hip as you cry against his shoulder. Maverick allowed tears of his own to fall as he let out a shuddering breath of relief when he felt your tiny arms wind around his neck.

“I got you; y/n/n. Daddy’s got you.” Maverick whispered as he pressed repeated kisses to your temple as you cried, clinging to him. Maverick’s free hand came up to rest on the back of your head, running a hand through your hair as you sobbed in relief.

“I was scared.” You whine, making Maverick’s heart break as more tears roll down his cheeks at your words.

“I know sweetheart. But I’m right here. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” Maverick assures, squeezing you tighter before pressing more kisses to the side of your head. Just as Iceman and Slider went to leave, Maverick turned to face them.

“Thank you.” Maverick says to the two who nod their heads in acknowledgement at his words.

“No worries, Mitchell.” Iceman says, the two men now seeing each other in a whole new light. Iceman was now seeing a devoted father who would do anything for his daughter instead of the reckless and cocky aviator he saw at Top Gun. While Maverick was now seeing someone who dropped everything to look for a kid that wasn’t his and without being asked instead of seeing the man who lectured him after every training session for flying dangerously. After sharing a curt nod with Maverick; Iceman and Slider headed back to the volleyball court, leaving Maverick and Goose with you.

“I think we’re going to head home, Goose. Just let Carole and Bradley know we’ll catch up with them another day.” Maverick says to Goose who nods in understanding.

“No! I wanna see Brad!” You exclaim tearily when you hear what your dad says, pulling away to look your dad in the eye. Maverick raised an eyebrow curiously while he lifted a hand to wipe your tears away.

“We don’t have to go to the beach sweetheart.” Maverick says, worried that you’d either wander off again or felt you had to go just because Bradley was going too.

“I wanna see Brad and Auntie Carole.” You whine, burying your face in the crook of your dad’s neck as he looks over at Goose who shrugs.

“Your call, Mav.” Goose says, not wanting to intervene. Maverick turned his head to look at you as you pulled away again, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could as Maverick cursed internally. He could never say no to your puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, we’ll go to the beach with the others. But you are to stay in my sight at all times.” Maverick instructs, his expression conveying every ounce of seriousness that he could as you nod, understanding every word he said clearly. Maverick glances over at Goose and gestures for them to head back to the volleyball court to gather up the beach stuff before heading down to the beach. You refuse to let your dad put you down so Goose takes the bag and the three of you begin the short walk to the beach. When you reach the beach, Goose crosses to his wife quickly and captures her in a sweet kiss before sweeping Bradley up into a hug. Just as Goose puts Bradley down, he quietly explains to Carole what had happened earlier and she felt her heart break for the Mitchell’s knowing how terrifying the thought of losing a child was. Carole immediately moved to speak to Maverick as he attempts to lay out a beach towel while keeping you in his arms.

“Hey Mav, how’s she doing?” Carole asks sweetly as she helps Maverick lie out the towel and smiling at you as you wave at her.

“She’s pretty shaken up. I also feel like I gotta buy Ice’s drinks for the rest of his life for finding her.” Maverick admits with a slight chuckle as he moves to carefully sit down, freeing one of his hands to ease himself down.

“She’s not hurt physically either, thank god.” Maverick says as you settle yourself into his lap, your once teary eyes lighting up when you see Bradley come running over. Goose sets down another towel alongside Maverick’s and sits down on it, opening his arms and gesturing for Carole to sit in between his legs which she does with a laugh, snuggling back into his chest. Once Bradley has dropped his toys on his parent’s towel he launched at you for a hug, pushing you into Maverick as he dramatically fell onto his back, causing a pile of children on his chest as he wraps his arms around the both of you.

“Uncle Mav! y/n!” Bradley giggles, wrapping his arms around you in a hug you reciprocate a bright grin covering your face.

“Hey, kiddo.” Maverick says, ruffling Bradley’s hair as he swats at his hand, protesting loudly as you giggle. When Bradley finally clambers off, Maverick sits up, adjusting you so you’re sat in his lap once more as Bradley rushes to his parents, his little hands digging through Carole’s beach bag to find his bucket and spade.

“y/n, do you want to build a sandcastle with me?” Bradley asks, his eyes shining with glee as he grins at you. At first, you don’t respond, wrapping your arms around Maverick and cuddling into him.

“Oh, y/n might not be in the mood to build sandcastles right now, buddy.” Goose says, noticing your reaction and looking over at his son who looks between you and his dad curiously.

“Why not?” The five-year-old enquires, not understanding why you didn’t want to join in on building sandcastles.

“She’s just a bit tired, sweetheart. But you can build sandcastles if you want.” Carole says, smiling sweetly at her son.

“But it’s no fun without y/n.” Bradley whines, his bottom lip jutting out as he complains.

“Bradley, come on buddy, you have plenty of time to build sandcastles with y/n another day.” Goose says, trying to lighten his son’s dampening mood. Noticing Bradley insist that building sandcastles is better with you, you feel more in the mood to build sandcastles with Bradley. But you were also terrified to be out of your dad’s arms in fear he’d disappear and you’d be alone again. Maverick noticed you looking at Bradley and loosening your grip on him so he looked down at you with a gentle smile.

“You want to play with Bradley, sweetheart?” He asks, giving you the freedom to decide whether you wanted to or not.

“Yes, but I don’t want to be far away from you.” You admit, looking down at the towel and Maverick’s face softens as he moves to hook a finger under your chin to lift it so you’d look at him.

“I got an idea.” Maverick says with a small smirk. He shuffles forward on the towel until he’s right at the end of the towel, barely sitting on the towel. He then stands you on the sand, still holding your hand as he reaches his spare hand back to the bag to dig out your bucket and spade, handing them to you with a smile.

“Okay, take two steps forward.” He says and you do as he asks, looking back at him after each step to check he’s still there and to your relief he is, grinning at you.

“There we go! You’re doing so well! Now, hold your hand out towards me.” Maverick then instructs gently, waiting for you to do as he asked and when you do, he reaches out and takes your hand in his.

“See that? If you feel worried while you’re building your sandcastles you can just reach for me and I’ll grab your hand, yeah? But if it feels like too much you can always come and just cuddle and chill out with me.” Maverick says, making sure you know you have options as he speaks and to his joy, you nod and immediately kneel down in the sand with Bradley and begin making sandcastles.

“You’re good with her Mav.” Carole says with a smile as the parents watch their kids playing in the sand.

“This was a win-win for us. She didn’t want to be too far away from me and I wanted her in my sight. It seemed like the best solution.” Maverick shrugs as if what he did wasn’t a big deal, barely glancing Carole’s way as he focuses his attention on his daughter, waiting to see if you reach out for him. Every time you looked over at him to make sure he was still there, he was sure to send you an encouraging smile and took your hand whenever you asked for it. But mostly you were kept occupied by Bradley, the two of you building rows of sandcastles and decorating them as you happily chat with each other.

“Twenty bucks says these two get married when they’re older.”

“GOOSE!”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun fic #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell x daughter reader #maverick x reader #maverick x daughter!reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x daughter!reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell #pete 'maverick' mitchell x reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

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randomlonelymusician · 9 months

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Lacey's Petshop Theory/Analysis (So Far)

So Lacey's Petshop dropped a couple of hours ago, and here's my thoughts so far after watching the video twice and doing some rough transcriptions.

Illegible text transcriptions HERE.

Warnings for disturbing imagery, abuse, blood, and animal death. Also spoilers.

So here's my overall takeaway from this entry:

There are two stories going on. The story of Lacey, who represents Rocio Yani (Lacey Game's cofounder), and the story of how the games came to be. They're very heavily connected, but not everything we're shown in the Lacey games is exactly what happened to Rocio.

In Lacey's Petshop, Lacey's uncle kills her dog. After years of abuse from him and him killing this one bit of happiness she has in her life, she kills him. She hides his remains under the bed, and is afraid to leave the room after this.

Lacey seems to be a sort of stand-in for Rocio, who has clearly suffered similar abuse. There are two directions that Rocio's connection to the "bad versions" of the Lacey games could go: they were vent pieces to she could express her trauma, or she is literally connected to the games, living out a 2000s-esque life while her trauma seeps through in the bad endings.

Now, for further explanations.

I think it's pretty evident that Lacey's uncle killed her dog. With how she constantly mentions him "taking her angel away", and how the dog's face appears while a mutilated leg/bloody eye flash on screen.

The motifs connecting the image of the dog to animal death and distress go even further:

I believe that Lacey killed her uncle after this mostly due to how images of a mangled/rotting foot and a bloody eye when she is talking about how "he is still under the bed" and that she "can't leave"

The lines about her not being able to leave also could imply some sort of guilt. The mirror scene could also reinforce this, since she sees horribly distorted versions of herself.

I also don't think every game is a direct representation of her trauma, since the timeline get a little messy if they are. Especially Lacey's Wardrobe. That's the one that sticks out as different from Lacey's Diner and Lacey's Petshop, which both focus on the abuse from her uncle. Both Lacey's Diner and Petshop do both show that she killed him, with in Lacey's diner she is cooking him and her trauma into the food and serving it to others (a representation of what what is doing with the games, maybe?"

BONUS NOTE: After you click the... substance on the left, it shows this image, which features Rocio's name.

As for what's happening in the real world. I'm actually going to go with the theory that Rocio is literally connected to the game as Lacey, and that's why there's bad endings that didn't used to be there. Everyone in the story remembers how they used to play Lacey games, and never seem to remember anything disturbing. But now that Rocio is connected to the game, her trauma is infecting it.

I think that her being connected to the wires is more literal than some may take it.

Forming a bit of a timeline, Laceygames.com / Yaniasogames started in 2004, and from the interview with Grace Asop confirms that they parted ways in 2010. This means that the "infections" were more recent, which is why no one has been discovering them until now.

Lacey / Rosio just wanted to have a normal life, so she connected herself to 2000s-esque flash games to make that a reality. But her past traumas ended up seeping into those games, creating the grotesque imagery that we now know.

I think that's all I have so far. Here are my favorite screencaps from this episode that I didn't get to use:

If anyone has any comments, ideas, or additions, please add them! This series has brought me back into the analog horror community, and it's really fun to discuss!

#lacey's flash games #lacey flash games #lacey games #lacey's petshop #lacey's pet shop #lacey's diner #lacey's wardrobe

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strangersmunsons · 5 days

Text

read 'em and weep #5

you're acting weird. Eddie decides to do something about it.

Chapter 5 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 4 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, mix of fluff & angst, romantic gestures, idiots in love, communication breakthrough, shy babies working out some kinks. No mention of reader's appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: Discussion of Eddie's past, mentions of poverty, drug use, allusion to violence. Mentions of food & eating. Word Count: 4.5k sometimes I think I make him too soft in this series, but I can't help myself. are you guys tired of lovesick!eddie yet???

Eddie wakes up late on Sunday — it’s well after noon when he rises from bed with a sticky yawn in his throat and sleep in his eyes. In his rumpled t-shirt and boxers, hair a tangled mess, he pads down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Wayne is dropping scoops of pancake batter into a sizzling pan on the stove.

“Mornin’, Ed.”

“G’morning,” Eddie grunts back. He plops into one of the seats at the tiny table, rubbing his eyes.

“Sleep okay?”

“Like a rock.”

Wayne nods approvingly. “Figured as much. I could hear ya from the living room.”

Eddie scrunches his face in annoyance. “You could not.”

His uncle smiles, mirth buried in his whiskers.

“Well, you deserve a good night’s sleep. You’re always out and about these days.”

Wayne flips the last pancake, lets it cook, then adds it to the stack he’s already piled up. He sets the plate of cakes and two cups of coffee onto the table, and takes a seat across from his nephew.

They begin to eat in silence. That’s not unusual, as Eddie has a tendency to inhale his food — the boy’s got a garbage disposal for a stomach — but he’s not scarfing it down the way he normally does. Instead, he pushes his breakfast around his plate in between taking small bites, looking moody.

Wayne pauses in between sips of coffee, #1 Uncle mug hovering halfway to his lips.

“Everything okay?”

“Uh…I think so. Yeah.”

Wayne raises an eyebrow skeptically at him. “You sound like you’re not sure.”

Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, frowning at his pancakes.

He doesn’t want to push, lest Eddie shut him down completely, but Wayne’s curious. Sue him.

“Somethin’ happen with your girl last night?”

Eddie blushes and sits back in his seat, voice pained. “Wayne —”

“We don’t have to get all touchy-feely. It’s just a question,” he tells him sternly. “And believe it or not, kiddo, I have known a woman or two in my lifetime. I can give you advice if you need it, y’know. I’m not a eunuch.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Gross, man.”

Wayne laughs, a gruff chuckle that reverberates around the small kitchen. Eddie smiles in spite of himself.

“So what’s the problem?”

Eddie drums a nervous rhythm against the table with his fingers, naked without their bulky rings. “I don’t know, really. She was just kinda weird yesterday.” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right word. “Distant.”

Wayne listens intently, fist tucked under his chin. “Distant how?”

Eddie fills his cheeks with air, and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Well, she was fine in the morning, but last night she was really quiet. Especially when we were alone, which I don’t understand.” If you’d been nervous to spend time with his friends, then he’d get it, but you seemed fine at Benny’s. It was before and after, when you were by yourselves, which strikes him as odd.

He gestures helplessly with his hands, words flowing faster now, confusion leaking into every syllable. “She’s usually really excited when she sees me. All happy and stuff, y’know? And we always talk a lot, but she hardly said a word to me. And at first I thought she just had a tough day at work, but then —” Eddie stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut. I didn’t get hardly any kisses, he finishes miserably in his head.

Rather than verbalize the thought for Wayne, he just throws his arms up, letting his flailing limbs speak for themselves.

Wayne gives him a solemn nod, determined to keep his expression neutral. If he reacts too strongly either way, then Eddie might not feel so inclined to discuss his love life with him again. Ever the sensible one, he asks, “Did she have a tough day at work?”

Eddie looks sheepish. “That’s what she said,” he admits reluctantly.

“But you don’t believe her?”

Eddie’s bottom lip juts out petulantly. “It just didn’t feel like she wanted to be around me.” His face falls, and his voice becomes softer, the hurt more pronounced. “Like she couldn’t wait to get away.”

Wayne heaves a sigh, and thinks it over. “Personally, I think you’re readin’ too much into it,” he finally responds. “If she tells you she had a hard day, then she probably did.” He rubs his stubbly chin thoughtfully. “Although, you might be onto something there….”

Eddie’s face crinkles in despair, mouth falling open.

“Now, hang on,” Wayne adds hastily, seeing his kicked-puppy look. “I just mean to say, that you’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time together, right? And you haven’t really known each other that long, but you’ve hardly gone a day this summer without seeing her. Maybe she’s runnin’ out of things to say to you,” he jokes.

Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste. “C’mon,” he complains.

“She might just need a little space, is all I’m sayin’.” The older man shrugs. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, or that she doesn’t wanna be around you. Just give her some breathing room. And then, in a few days, if you still feel like things are off, talk to her about it.”

Eddie squints at him. “Can I just do that?”

Wayne shakes his head in disbelief. “Boy, I swear,” he mumbles.

After breakfast, Eddie mulls over what his uncle told him. Now, he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t really know how to be a boyfriend, but goddamn it, he’s trying.

Is that his problem? Is he trying too hard?

Okay, fine, he’s a bit of a smother. But it’s difficult for him not to be; he’s spent far too long navigating life in this thankless town alone. Now that he’s finally found you, he can scarcely bring himself to let go, even for a second.

“Breathing room,” he mutters to himself. Fine. No biggie. He can deal with that.

For the next few days, Eddie resists the temptation to call you first, or visit you unannounced at work, which is a task that would be much easier to accomplish if you were giving him literally anything in return.

But you haven’t called. Not for an evening chat, which was customary on days he didn’t stop by the library. Not to check up on him, not to find out where he’s been, or why he hasn’t visited…it’s like nothing is out of the ordinary.

Evidently, you’re not missing him at all.

The phone has only rung twice so far this week. Once it was Henderson, and the other one was a telemarketer that he promptly hung up on. His ego took a huge hit every time he came home and asked, “Any calls for me?” and had to see Wayne shake his head no.

Disappointed, and overwhelmed by a creeping sense of dread, Eddie concludes that your radio silence could mean one of two things: either you just don’t feel the need to be around him as much as he does you, or he did something to upset you.

He can’t figure out which is worse. The internal debate plagues him morning and night as the days keep rolling by.

Up until now, you haven’t seemed to mind his clinginess. If anything you were nearly always overjoyed to see him — so much so that it startled him, and he often found himself looking back over his shoulder, to see if there was someone else standing behind him that you were smiling at instead. Has the novelty of Eddie Munson worn off so quickly? It didn’t seem like you, so kind and attentive towards him, but who was he to expect you to want to be with him twenty-four/seven?

Unless it was something else entirely, something he had done that didn’t sit right with you, that was causing this. He tries to think of what he could possibly said or did that may have offended you, but he keeps coming up empty.

And then, in the midst of his warring thoughts, inspiration strikes.

“Uhhh…hey, Wayne?”

Wayne calls back from his spot on the couch, where he’s immersed in the latest episode of The Joy of Painting. “Yeah?”

Eddie shuffles into the living room, lips pursed. He tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Would it be…ill-advised…to show up unannounced at her house with a grand romantic gesture?”

Wayne stares at him. “You know I said space, right?”

Eddie starts packing up a brown paper grocery bag with everything he thinks he’ll need, while Wayne hovers in the kitchen, watching him with his arms crossed. He’s simultaneously disapproving and amused.

“So you’re just gonna ignore my advice, huh?”

“Wayne,” Eddie sighs, “I appreciate your sage words of wisdom, I really do. But unfortunately, I am not a patient man. I need resolution now, or else I’ll die.” He pulls out another snack from a cupboard and stows it away in the bag, alongside the sandwiches he made and some other morsels scrounged up from the kitchen. He’ll get your favorite drink, too, when he stops for flowers at the gas station —

“You? Impatient? Naw.”

“Ha, ha,” Eddie replies sarcastically.

Wayne shakes his head. “I sure hope this works out for you.”

Eddie hesitates. “I mean….” Suddenly insecure, he looks over at Wayne, anguished expression on his face. “Is it a completely horrible idea?”

Wayne softens immediately, and silently curses himself for discouraging him. “No. No, I don’t mean that. I’m actually…well, I’m mighty proud to see you treatin’ a lady so well.” Eddie turns scarlet, grimacing at the praise, and Wayne continues. “I’m just worried you might overwhelm her, with…how well you’re treatin’ her.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his hair. “I just…don’t like the way things feel right now. And I don’t wanna make the mistake of ignoring it, hoping it’ll go away, and have things get worse.”

There’s a pang in Wayne’s heart. He really is a good kid, isn’t he? “Aw, hell, Ed. If this feels like it’s the right thing for you to do, then I say do it.”

When Eddie finally arrives at your house, the nerves have really kicked in. He understands that this is kind of a gamble, but subtlety has never been his forte. Slinging his acoustic guitar over his back, clutching the grocery bag in one fist and a small bouquet of dyed carnations in the other, he manages to rap lightly on the front door without dropping anything.

Eddie holds his breath as the seconds tick by, heart thumping in his chest.

Finally, the door swings open slowly, revealing your figure and Eddie immediately feels warm, in spite of the cool air that seeps out from the house. You look startled to see him, even more so when your eyes drop down to the flowers in his hand, mouth popping open in surprise.

“Hi,” he greets you nervously. “Uh, I hope it’s okay that I’m here, I-I know I didn’t call you or anything first. But, um, it’s a nice day out, so I thought we could have a picnic?” It comes out like a question. He jostles the grocery bag, and you can hear the contents shift around inside. “If you’re not busy or anything. And these, um, are for you.” He thrusts the flowers forward, palm sweating against their plastic wrapping.

You stand there in silence, not saying or taking anything, just gaping at him. Eddie’s stomach drops. And he’s totally unprepared for what happens next.

Your face crumples, and you burst into tears.

“Oh, Jesus.” Eddie sets everything down onto the ground and lurches forward, arms outstretched to touch you, but he hesitates before making contact, his hands fluttering around your figure uncertainly. “I — sweetheart — what?” he stutters, entirely out of his element.

“Sorry!” you sob, clapping your hands over your mouth. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize,” he says automatically, completely bewildered. His hands finally come down to rest on your shoulders, and he leans closer to you, like maybe proximity will cure whatever this is. “Is something wrong?” He winces, and shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s stupid — what’s wrong?”

You sniffle in response, fat tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

Watching you tremble with emotion breaks his heart, and it’s stronger than his panic at being unexpectedly confronted by a crying woman. “Oh, baby,” he says tenderly, wrapping his arms around you fully and pulling you in close. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” you repeat in a watery voice, slightly muffled by you pressing your face into his shirt. “You’re just…you’re so sweet, Eddie. That’s all.”

“You don’t have to say sorry for crying,” he says, chuckling breathlessly. “Although I was kind of aiming for a smile with all this, not tears.” He pats your back gently, and moves his lips to your ear. “It’s been a while. I was missing you.”

You shudder. “I missed you, too.” You let out a choked laugh, and pull back a little, dabbing at your eyes. You audibly try and swallow the lump in your throat. “This isn’t how I usually greet company, I promise.”

In the small, sunny backyard, Eddie lays out a faded gingham tablecloth onto the grass. It’s tattered at the edges and bears quite a number of stubborn stains, maybe not great for their tiny kitchen anymore, but perfect for an outdoor blanket. While he sets up his little surprise date, doling out food and plates and napkins, he steals glances at you, visible through the kitchen window, where you’re arranging your new flowers in a vase. When you come back outside to join him, he doesn’t miss the way you swipe at your eye one last time, trying to rid yourself of the final remnants of your outburst.

He offers you a soft smile, and pats the spot on the ground next to him.

You sink onto the blanket with a sigh, looking tired but pleased to see him nonetheless. And there’s a trace of something else in your eyes, some unknown emotion that he can’t quite put his finger on. You reach gingerly for the sandwich he packed for you — your favorite, you note right away — but Eddie simply watches, wondering if he has to ask or if he should wait for you to explain.

“So, how’re things?” you ask innocently, and take a small bite.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his tone light. “Well, I’m a little concerned, naturally. We gonna talk about what just happened back there?”

You chew slowly, stalling. He waits patiently.

“I wasn’t expecting all this,” you finally say, gesturing around at the spread before you. “It’s…it’s really, really nice of you,” your voice breaks again on the last word, but if you’re threatened by another wave of tears, you don’t succumb.

Eddie shrugs modestly, but remains curious. “It’s no big thing. Just wanted to surprise you,” he says, and hesitates before continuing. “I, uh, haven’t heard from you in a while, so I wasn’t sure if…maybe you were upset with me, or something, I dunno. Like, if I did something wrong.”

Abruptly, you fix your gaze on your lap, but not before Eddie sees them widen in alarm.

He peers closer at you. “Were you upset with me?”

Your blanche. “God, I’m such an asshole,” you mumble, throat tightening again.

Eddie’s thoroughly confused now, and he chuckles uncertainly. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m a little lost here. Why are you calling yourself an asshole?” The idea is absurd; it’s hard for him to even fathom.

You wring your hands nervously, unable to make yourself look at him. “Eddie, I — I’m sorry. That I haven’t been reaching out to you lately.” You struggle with what to say, feeling ashamed, but you force yourself to continue. “But…Marissa — from work, y’know? — she…she told me some stuff about you.”

Eddie’s insides turn to ice.

“Stupid, gossipy stuff,” the words come out in a rush now, like you’re desperate to get the truth out and over with, “most of which I didn’t even really believe, anyway, but I guess I couldn’t help feeling…anxious, after it happened? And I didn’t know how to talk to you about it, so I just…didn’t. I’m so sorry.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, frustrated at your own actions. “And then you come here today with an entire picnic, and flowers, and your guitar, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. I can’t believe myself.”

Eddie falls silent for a moment, his dark eyes big and sad. It’s not what he was expecting, though he supposes he should have been anticipating something like this happening eventually. Gossip about him had improved — or affected him less, at least — when he finished school, but there were still whispers about him amongst the townies, he knew.

“What did she tell you?” he asks dully. “That I’m the spawn of Satan?”

A knot twists in your stomach. “Something like that. Of course I know that’s bullshit.”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “Oh, yeah? What did she tell you that was so impressive, then?” When you flinch at his words, he cringes inwardly at his own snarkiness, and reminds himself who he’s talking to.

You scratch at a dark spot on the blanket, fidgeting under his stare. “She — she said that you were involved with someone named Chrissy, and the way she mentioned it really freaked me out.”

Upon hearing her name, Eddie’s eyes bulge with panic. Oh shit, oh shit. Low blow from Marissa. Because unlike the far-fetched devil worship accusations, there’s some substance to that rumor, no matter how convoluted the truth became. He starts to mentally scramble for a way to explain, but you continue on before he can speak.

“I guess I just couldn’t stand the thought of you having another girlfriend,” you admit guiltily. “I didn’t wanna find out, because I didn’t think I could take it, if I knew you were seeing someone else.”

That catches him off guard. “Oh, you —” Eddie fumbles with his words, “you thought that I was…dating her?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. When someone tells you ‘ask him about so-and-so’ in that kind of tone, that’s generally what comes to mind.”

Eddie blinks, then groans, and flings himself back on the blanket. He drapes one arm over his eyes, hiding the world from view. He heaves a great sigh. “Nothing like that ever happened between Chrissy and I,” he says quietly. “Never dated, never hooked up. Never even so much as kissed.”

“Oh.” You process this, wondering at her significance. “Who is she, then?”

“Just a girl in town,” he mutters. “We went to high school together.” He sighs resignedly again, and pulls his arm up, just enough so he can peek at you. “Listen, Wayne and I, we don’t have a whole lot to our names. In case that wasn’t obvious.” He snorts humorlessly. “I…used to deal, for a bit of extra cash. Help out with the rent and stuff. Did Marissa tell you that, too?”

“She did,” you affirm. “But Eddie, I don’t care about that either, I swear.”

He moves on without acknowledging your remark. “Chrissy was a cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High, basically. And she was looking to buy one day, so we met up after school. I was just gonna sell her some pot, but she asked me if I had anything, ah, stronger.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “I didn’t usually sell harder shit to other students, but I had some Special K laying around, for my own…personal use.” He doesn’t dare look up again to see your reaction to this tidbit. “And I sold it to her…and then she disappeared.”

You stare at him. “She…disappeared?”

Eddie sits back up and nods, face hardening. “For a few days, anyway. Ran away. Her family’s got a good name, and a lot of money, but that doesn’t always make for a good home life, y’know? I don’t know what was going on with her, exactly, but she wasn’t okay. And when she skipped town, everyone pointed their fingers at me.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate; the implication is clear. Still, you ask, “What, they thought that you…did something to her?”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, staring off into the distance. “All but brought out the pitchforks and torches.”

Indignance on his behalf hits you like a truck. “Teenagers run away all the time!”

Eddie rubs his face in distress. “Yeah, they do, but when Hawkins’ golden girl is last seen entering the town freak’s trailer to buy ketamine, people tend to jump to conclusions.”

A wave of sadness washes over you, as you try to picture it in your head: they truly believed that sweet, doting Eddie was capable of hurting a young girl like that?

Eddie, who played fantasy games with kids six years his junior simply because they asked him to, and fed the strays in the trailer park, and spent many a Sunday making banana bread with his uncle? Who he chose to live with instead of moving out, because he loved him and wanted to be close in case he needed him? Was it even possible, for people to be so blind?

The very thought of it makes you sick. “That’s horrible….”

“S’okay,” he mumbles. “She came back home eventually. A little worse for wear, I heard, but she was fine. Told everyone that I had nothing to do with her leaving, or whatever happened while she was gone. But,” he shrugs, “people will believe what they wanna believe. The Munson reputation precedes me.”

You reach for his warm hand, and clasp it in yours, savoring the feel of his calloused palm against your own.

He casts you a desperate glance. “I swear I never did anything to her,” he whispers.

Your chest aches for him, and you squeeze his hand. “Of course you didn’t.”

His breathing hitches. “I guess it’s obvious,” he says, voice trembling slightly, “that there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t, um, told you about yet. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to tell you all of it right now, either. But I will, someday.”

There it is. The notion that Eddie wants to be in your life long-term, and that he wants you to be in his, finally spoken.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to,” you reassure him quietly. “It won’t change how I feel about you, anyway. I think you’re really wonderful. I-I like you so much, Eddie.”

A silence falls over the two of you. Eddie watches the bumblebees fly lazily over the white clover dotting the lawn. You try to think of something else to say, something you can tell him that’ll make the pain go away, erase the hurt that this town has caused him. You suspect that this incident with Chrissy is just the tip of the iceberg that is Eddie’s trauma — for how long was he treated like this by those around him, and how harshly?

Before you can come up with the right words to soothe him, Eddie speaks again, his voice a little stronger. “So you, uh…heard that I was a drug-dealing cult leader, but got upset because you thought I was seeing someone else?”

At last, some brevity. You make eye contact across the blanket, and you’re relieved to see the corners of his lips have turned up into a tiny smile.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you nod. “I did, yeah.”

He attempts husky laugh, though he still looks weary. “Damn. You got it bad, huh?”

You shrug. “What can I say? You’re a catch, Munson. I don’t think I feel like sharing.”

He hums softly, and he relaxes a little, body sagging as he finally releases some of the tension he’s been holding onto all this time. “Sorry for snapping at you,” he offers needlessly, biting at his thumbnail.

You dismiss it immediately. “Don’t apologize —”

“Nah, I get it. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if the cult rumors or the dealing really did bother you, even. I mean, that’s some pretty jarring intel to hear from your boss about the guy you’re dating. They’re not really things people tend to look for in a partner.”

You shake your head. “I should’ve talked to you about it as soon as it happened. But it just felt so…crass to come right out and start interrogating you.” You scoot closer to him on the blanket. “You have to believe me, Eddie, I don’t care about what anyone else has to say. I feel like I know you,” you pause, and reach out with your free hand to cup his cheek, “even if I’m a little fuzzy on the details right now.”

He sucks in a quick breath, closing his eyes, and rests his face against your palm. “I have to warn you,” he says, “that if we’re together, and people know about it, then this might not be the last time someone tries to talk to you about me. And I’m asking you to — to trust that I’m not what they say I am.”

“I do,” you promise. “I trust you.”

You lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, and chuckles weakly. Although the reassurance was needed, he’s feeling all too vulnerable for his liking, so he changes the subject. “You know, while we’re hashing things out here, can I ask you an unrelated question?”

You smile indulgently. “Shoot.”

“So, I guess we know now that this wasn’t really why, but Wayne told me that the reason you weren’t talking to me is because I’m up your ass all the time, and that I need to give you more space. That’s why I didn’t come sooner. I know I kind of smother you, and I was worried that maybe, maybe you needed a break from me, or something?”

Rubbing your thumb against his cheekbone, you whisper, “Oh, gosh no. You’re like…my favorite person, Eddie.” You nod shyly, as though affirming it to yourself for the first time. “Yeah. You’re the person I want to be around the most, um, at any given moment.”

Eddie blushes, and something inside of him shifts at those words, making him feel impossibly soft. “Me too,” he returns.

Your turn. “And I have a question for you, too.”

“Shoot,” he echoes.

“Were you gonna play me something on that?” You gesture to his guitar, forgotten on the grass behind him.

Eddie lets out another laugh, the most carefree one he’s uttered today. “I was. Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you playing acoustic music. I’m intrigued.”

Eddie grasps the neck of the guitar with one hand, and drags the instrument into his lap, situating himself into a playing position. “You’d be shocked, sweetheart. I can make just about anything sound metal.”

Your eyes sparkle wickedly. “Are you gonna play me some Joni Mitchell?”

Eddie purses his lips. “No, I was thinking KISS. It, uh, translates pretty well, actually.”

You cross your legs on the blanket, rest your elbow on your knee and tuck your hand under your chin — giving him your full attention.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s hear it!”

thank you for reading!! <3

taglist: @eddiesgirlforever @eds6ngel @sheisahauntedhouse @lokis-tardis-companion19 @teary-eyed-egg @whenshelanded @nanaminswhore @witchwolflea @destinationwanderlust @kores-mun-son-n-more @clairesjointshurt @fishwithtitz @wickedscorpio22 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @lexr86 @cultish-corner

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x reader series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff

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pedgito · 2 years

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐲 part ii ➶ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: it’s only been a few months, but life’s a whirlwind. a mix of your own career taking off and eddie’s going haywire, it’s only a matter of time before you two end up at odds.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), camgirl!reader, more background steddie mentions, eddie is a workaholic (to a ridiculous degree), mention of dead parent/broken home life, lots of self-loathing from eddie (in his personal, work, and sex life), soft & sensual smut, and so much eye contact, mentions of drinking/reader taking care of drunk eddie, eddie’s bad at relationships

word count: 6k — part one

You couldn’t stand the smug expression on Steve’s face as he wandered around the bed, camera held tightly in his right hand. The past few months had been a plethora of crazy and even Steve couldn’t handle it, especially not in situations like these.

“Remind me again why Eddie couldn’t help you with this?” Steve asked begrudgingly. He was going to help you regardless, but he had the right to be curious given his current position.

You sat with your knees spread on the bed, legs stretched behind you and your hands pressed firmly into a sheet that was bunched slightly between your thighs. You sigh, shoulders falling slack as you relaxed the pose to look over at Steve.

“He had prior arrangements,” You say mockingly, “look—I can do this on my own if it really bothers you.”

“No, no,” Steve quickly interrupts, “it just seems like Eddie’s always working. I don’t even work that much.”

Steve pauses for a moment, taking a brief look through the lens of the camera to check the positioning before pulling away with a pondering look, “Uh, can you like—push your ass out a little?” He seems mortified to even ask.

You snicker softly, listening to his instructions and widening your hips slightly, resuming your earlier pose. Steve offers a thumbs up of approval and snaps a few pictures.

“Steve, I thought we were past this?” You tease, watching Steve wag his finger to signal you to move into the next pose.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I still look at you like my sister,” He explains, waiting until you’re laying on your stomach to brush your hair out of the way, letting you find the most comfortable position that still accentuates your body, “how is he, anyways?”

“Eddie?” It was obvious, but you asked anyway. Steve nods, still fiddling away with a few odds and ends of your hair and outfit, making sure it was as pristine as possible for the shot.

You shrug slightly, “He’s bad at saying no to people and companies, but it’s good money, I guess. It feels like he’s overworking himself, though—and I know he’s not going to listen to me.”

“Has he not talked to you about before?” Steve asks with a puzzled expression, eyebrow lifted slightly, “He’s never mentioned anything like that?”

You shake your head carefully, wondering where Steve was taking the conversation. You’d been friends with Steve for years, but he also had quite a bit of time on you when it came to Eddie—and Eddie, despite his warmness toward you, still had his reservations for things, most of it being kept secret out of embarrassment or judgment.

“I guess I shouldn’t say much,” Steve starts, pulling back momentarily to snap a picture, faking a sultry expression for a brief moment before falling back into the conversation, “he grew up with his uncle, didn’t have much. I think he’s afraid of losing it.”

“He’s set for life.” You respond easily—it was the truth. “I don’t think he has anything to worry about.”

“Yeah, but—it was tough for him, from what he’s told me. He’s only ever brought it up a few times and it makes him sad—I’m assuming you’ve never seen him cry,” Steve pauses for a moment, setting the camera down on the mattress, “it’s—it’s tough. Eddie’s been through a lot.”

You make a grabby hand toward your shirt, covering up the thin lingerie clinging to your body, Steve shoves it into your hand and takes a seat on the bed beside you. You roll to your side, head propped up in your hand. Steve smiles fondly, remembering a faint, distant memory to glaze over the sadness.

“What?” You ask with a quiet laugh.

Steve shakes his head dismissively, “Did he ever tell you how he got into all of this?”

“You never even told me how you ended up in it, not that I was that surprised but—“

“Hey,” Steve says defensively, aiming to call you out with his next words, “I called this shit out weeks ago and I haven’t even tried to rub it in your face how right I was.”

It started out with Eddie, but then the demand was higher. More appearances, more acting, more and more and more of everything—eventually you decided that it would be easier to start doing your own thing. Solo videos, pictures, private sessions when you were really feeling up to it, but never anything with a partner, not even Eddie.

It was a sense of exploration for yourself—within your body and your blossoming career. The crowd you gathered was still relatively small, but it gave you insight to the kind of stuff that both Steve and Eddie dealt with on a daily basis, only on a much more massive scale.

“Anyways, Eddie and I got really drunk one night and came up with the idea.” Steve begins, fingers rubbing over the rough denim of his jeans, “It was just pictures and shit at first, but then we saw how much the videos were blowing up and we set some ground rules—and well, the rest is history.”

In short, the video blew up. Tremendously. You still hadn’t seen it, as curious as you were.

“And you never—not even once, had a crush on Eddie?” You ask openly, knowing Steve would answer honestly. “Is that even possible?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Steve laughs, “Eddie is attractive, but he’s never been my type. He’s never really dated either—not until well...you, at least.”

You give him an uneasy look, not sure how to explain the odd situation you were in.

“We’re not really—“

“I thought you two were together—like, together.”

“We are,” You answer quickly, repeating yourself, “we are, but he never explicitly asked, you know?”

Steve can tell you’re holding back, eyes narrowing as he stares you down.

You sigh deeply, “We haven’t had sex outside of work, either.”

“You’re fucking kidding?” Steve asks, eyes widening.

“He’s usually tired, which I get—and given the reason for his exhaustion, it makes sense.” You try to defend him, making excuse after excuse. “And he does other stuff, but he almost seems disinterested if it’s not being done for profit—sex, at least.”

Steve stays silent for a moment, letting the information sink in. He tilts his head curiously, mouth opening a few times before he finally speaks.

“Well, that’s like I said—he’s never dated. I’ve known him for almost four years and not once has he ever mentioned anyone.” Steve hesitates, glancing up at you briefly, “Maybe he just doesn’t know how to initiate it?”

You give Steve a look of disbelief, knowing you both have had some of the most mind-blowing sex from the same person—who happened to be the person in question.

“You know what I mean,” Steve corrects himself with a tone of snark, throwing his hands up weakly, “most sex workers aren’t nearly as intense outside of work—but maybe Eddie has trouble separating it.”

You weren’t sure what to make of it, feeling shameful for even telling Steve any of it—but it’s been on your mind for a while and it has to come out at some point.

“God, he’s gonna hate me,” You frown, tucking your knees up under your chin, “how do I ask him that without sounding like a total asshole?”

“It’s Eddie,” Steve reassures you with a subtle smirk, “he’ll understand.”

And while you weren’t entirely sure of the idea, Steve was enough reassurances to ease your worries for the moment, letting him lean forward to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug, face falling to his chest.

“Can I say it now?” Steve asks, voice muffled from where your ear was shoved up against him.

“One time,” You respond, rolling your eyes lightheartedly, “that’s it.”

“I told you so.” Steve responds, “I swear to god I’m psychic.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” You retort, pulling away from him gently.

“I mean, if you think about—this is all because of me,” Steve gloats jokingly, letting you push him up from the bed and toward the door, his words like air as they drift through one ear and right out the other, “—is this what god feels like?”

“Out,” You urge, shoving him just past the threshold, “Out, out.”

“Talk to him,” He calls over his shoulder, voice muffled through the door as you close it behind him, “that’s the only way!”

To be fair, the last few months of the year are some of the busiest for Eddie—which Steve can attest to. He’s booked up most of the week, meeting up for collaborations or taking care of day long livestreams for the holidays. It has to be exhausting and you can see it on Eddie’s face, despite how hard he tried to hide it.

He’d been reminding you about the scene he had planned for a couple weeks, a lot of sensory play and nothing you’ve ever done before, diving in head first. Eddie’s as attentive as ever, snapping into that persona with ease. It was easy to differentiate the two, but the seamless flow was daunting sometimes.

Eddie had you tied up, bound to the headboard with a silk rope and blindfolded for good measure—the scene was all about you, he’d made that very clear. But, as much as you tried to immerse yourself in it, you couldn’t. You were able to play it up enough that it seemed believable and it wasn’t like you couldn’t enjoy yourself—but it was mostly for show.

And if you fake your orgasm, Eddie pretends not to notice, though, you’re pretty believable.

When everything is finally wrapped up, cameras off and no need for acting things up, Eddie finally caves and asks.

“Was it not good?” He asks hesitantly, shoving the items away in his closet, back turned to you. It felt dismissive, as if he was obligated to ask.

“It was,” You nod reassuringly, hands tucked up under your legs, feet planted flat on the bed, “I’m just—I feel fuzzy, confused, you know?”

“You might need some rest,” Eddie suggests, turning and closing the door behind him, “scenes like that can be exhausting.”

You try not to judge him by preaching to you the same things he should be doing, but the look on your face is obvious, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“What?” Eddie asks, throwing his shirt over his head.

“Are we ignoring how you’ve been working non-stop?” You ask crudely, forgoing the idea of easing into it. “How do you even have the energy to do all this shit?”

Eddie sighs, “Come here,” He urges, walking toward you and waiting until your arms outstretched so he can shift into your space, meeting you halfway in a lazy heap on the bed, “—I’m fine, okay?”

There’s reason to ignore the obvious elephant in the room, not wanting to bring up sex after what just took place, letting Eddie wrap his arms around you tightly, burying his face into your neck.

“Is something bothering you?” Eddie asks softly, pulling back to look at you.

Everything—is what you want to say. But you offer a small head shake, “I’m just worried about you. Steve, too. You hardly hang out with us anymore—I never get time with you unless we’re working.”

Eddie’s frown is subtle, but noticeable. “I’m sorry.” It’s genuine, but you’re not sure if it’s for the right reasons—not sorry for keeping busy, but sorry that he can’t give it up.

“It’s okay,” You reassured him, leaning up to press a quick kiss against his lips, “but you might have to make it up to me.”

Eddie chuckles lowly, reciprocating the same motion, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips, your thighs widening to make room for his legs, his hand sliding up to your knee, squeezing tenderly.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says regretfully, “rain check?”

And you really should’ve expected it. You nod anyway, pushing him away gently.

“Tired?” You ask curiously, already knowing the answer.

Eddie nods slightly, landing back on his ass against the mattress, arms stretched out by his side.

“We could go bother Steve?” You suggest, “He keeps complaining about how much he misses you—“

“We hung out last week.” Eddie defends feebly.

“You two had sex last week, there was no hanging—at least, not in the casual sense.”

It was another obvious sign of how bad Eddie was at managing his regular and professional life, putting the latter before the other.

“Same thing,” Eddie waves it off with a laugh, leaning forward suddenly to lift you over his shoulder, a squeal leaving your mouth at the action, “oh well—let’s go surprise him.”

It wasn’t the best way to rectify the situation—and it wasn’t like you could show up unannounced at your own place, but the last person Steve was expecting you to bring back that night was Eddie. His eyes are stuck, piercing into your very soul after the conversation you’d had a few days prior.

Eddie’s phone rings halfway through the movie Steve put on, leaving you both alone on the couch, silences stretching in waves.

“You haven’t talked to him have you?” Steve asks, already expecting your answer.

“No.” You frown, both of you glancing up to the closed door, Eddie’s voice muffled on the other side. “What do you think it’s gonna be this time?”

“A party, maybe? Those aren’t that unlikely around the end of the year—they usually just turn into giant orgies though. But, that’s not my thing.” Steve explains, “They’re not his either, but a lot of his friends are in the business. I don’t know—he’s hard to figure out sometimes.”

“You think he’d leave us for that?” You ask curiously, turning slightly to face Steve, feet bumping his own.

Steve shrugs with indifference, “It could just be his management or—“

Eddie emerges from the room, Steve’s words falling on deaf ears. He shoves his phone in his pocket, an uneasy look on his face.

“Gareth‘s having a party—“ Eddie starts, but you can’t be bothered to listen, “I was gonna stop by for a bit.”

“Okay,” You answer nonchalantly. You didn’t have any reason to be upset, not really, but it still sucked. Steve felt it too, his hand rubbing against your back soothingly, “—I’m pretty exhausted anyways.”

Eddie’s eyebrow furrows, “O-oh. Well, I was going to ask if you guys wanted to come with me.”

“You know I hate those things,” Steve complains behind you and as much as you wanted to tag along and be interested, you wanted the exact opposite, “they’re pointless.”

Eddie’s eye flick to you, hopefulness glinting in them briefly.

“Steve and I really wanted to finish the movie.” You offer a weak smile, “Are you sure you have to go?”

“I won’t be long,” Eddie promises, “—an hour, tops.”

You nod in response, letting Eddie step forward to gently kiss your forehead, looking up at Steve briefly to tease, “You want one too, big boy?”

Steve scoffs dramatically, shoving Eddie’s face away.

Eddie leaves not long after and Steve welcomes you immediately, tucking your body against his side and letting him wrap his arm around you comfortingly.

“He’s not gonna be back in an hour,” You remark, turning your attention back toward the movie.

“Yep.” Steve replies, running his fingers through the hair at the top of your head, “He’s gonna run out of energy at some point.”

You turn to him, face upturned in question.

“If he doesn’t take a break soon, he’s gonna crash and burn.” Steve explains, “I’ve seen it. It can get nasty.”

You sigh heavily, resting your weight against him. The concerns running through your mind. “I know I don’t say it enough—but I love you.”

Steve grins widely, squeezing you unnecessarily tight, muffling your protests. “I love you too.”

And with both of your expectations low, Eddie doesn’t return until a few hours later—a lot less coherent and a lot more drunk and neither of you had bothered to lock the door, so when Eddie pummels inside and lays over you two on the heap you were already in, it’s more annoying than anything.

“Dude, you smell horrible.” Steve complains, the smell of alcohol on Eddie’s breath.

Eddie ignores Steve’s complaints, pressing sloppy kisses against your collarbone. You stare up at Steve awkwardly, “I don’t even think he realizes you’re here,” You say quietly, Eddie’s eye closed in concentration and exhaustion, his hands lifting up under your back.

“Oh woah, hey there—“ You chide, pushing away from Steve carefully and helping Eddie into an upright position, most of his weight leaned against as his mouth continues to press wet, open mouthed kisses over your skin, “—I’ll talk to you in the morning.” You tell Steve, dragging Eddie toward your room.

“Where are you taking me?” Eddie asks softly, his hands slipping underneath the cotton of your shirt, breathing in the faint smell of your body wash, “God, you smell good, baby.”

“To bed,” You deadpan, tugging his hand along as you pulled away from him, slipping past the threshold of your room and closing the door behind you, “get undressed.”

“Oh,” Eddie chuckles salaciously, “I usually charge for strip shows, you know?”

“I’ll pay you back later,” You joke with full annoyance, shifting his jacket off his shoulders, “just get naked.”

Eddie shakes his head with a pout, “As your boyfriend, consider this one me—“

You still at the inclination, Eddie’s eye downturned as he tried to fumble with his shirt, the words falling from his lips easily. He’s never said it before, not until now—it tugs at the soft parts of your heart that really care about him.

“I’m trying to get you in the shower, Eddie.” You explain, helping him out of his shirt as well, balling up the fabric and tossing it to the floor before assisting with his belt.

“You’re gonna join me, right?” Eddie asks hopefully, his hands forgetting the current task to disappear into your hair, tilting your face up toward him again. “Fuck—I want you so bad, sweetheart.”

It doesn’t hit you as strongly as it should. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or his carelessness for his own well-being—but you couldn’t be bothered to listen to anything he had to say right now, too focused on getting him undressed and cleansed of the god awful smell of beer and cheap liquor.

“You’ll have to take this one alone, I’m afraid.” You break the news, helping him out of his pants as you guide him through your bathroom door, leaving him briefly to turn the water on, letting it run hot.

Eddie stumbled awkwardly as he removed his boxers, tossing them to the floor. He’s looking at you expectantly, thinking you might say something to him, and you do, “Socks too.”

“Oh, shit.” He curses, raising his hand against the wall to stabilize himself as he yanks at the last article of clothing.

You guide Eddie into the shower silently, closing the curtain roughly and letting him soak, gathering his dirty clothes to shove into the basket of already dirty laundry. You’re only halfway through your room when you hear the commotion in the shower and a pained groan from Eddie as he hits the floor.

“Shit, Eddie—“ You panic, back to him in seconds as you whip the curtain aside. He’s sitting on the cold porcelain floor of the tub, the water dripping over his head and in his face. When he finally has the courage to look up at you, his eyes are sad—sorry, almost.

“I think I need help.” Eddie confesses softly.

It wasn’t how you planned for things to go, but a trip to the emergency room in the middle of the night was definitely not happening—it doesn’t take you long to get undressed, stepping in behind him to pull him upright and under the running stream of water.

Eddie groans every now and then when you pull at his hair too hard, running the soap through his curls.

“You know, if you weren’t so drunk off your ass right now, I can see how this would’ve worked.” You comment jokingly, Eddie’s eyes glancing up to look at your briefly before falling closed again.

He makes a small noise, a halfhearted laugh as his chest rumbles. “Sorry—I guess I’m not much of a charmer outside of work.”

You’re taken back by the admission, stopping briefly to look at him. “That’s not true.” You defend him, “You know that’s not true.”

Eddie shrugs indifferently, “You don’t have to be nice to me all the time.”

You don’t even know how to respond to him, shoving away whatever smart ads remark you had at the ready, knowing you’d regret it the next morning.

The shower finishes shortly after that and you hand Eddie his towel, wrapping your own around your body, pushing you wet hair over your shoulder and staring up at Eddie.

Eddie speaks again after a while, “Do you hate me?”

You turn on your heels, rolling your eyes slightly. Eddie stumbles after, smelling of cheap men’s body wash—it was one you stole from Steve a while back and never returned. He still seems inebriated and out of his mind, but he can’t keep his mouth from spilling out every thought in his head.

You sift through your doors until you find what you’re looking for, shoving the stowed away spare clothes in his open hand.

“Why are you asking me that?” You ask, voicing brimming with annoyance.

“Why aren’t you answering the question?” Eddie replies in a much calmer tone, sinking down on the bed in a slump to pull his clothes on.

You never would’ve pinned Eddie for a sad drunk, feeling the need to air all of his inner problems—“I don’t hate you.” You tell him honestly, dropping your own towel to pull your clothes on, a pair of underwear and a shirt, before taking a careful seat beside Eddie, watching him struggle to get his arms through the sleeve of his shirt.

“Hey—why don’t you tell me how the party went?” You ask, trying to distract him. You couldn’t have this conversation with him like this, he needed to be sober. “Was it fun?”

Eddie shrugs again, “It was lame—I should’ve just stayed in with you and Steve.”

You nod to yourself slightly, guiding his arm through the sleeve.

“So, why didn’t you?”

“Bad for the image, right?,” Eddie chuckles softly, the tone of it wrapped in something dark, “Can’t have that.”

“No one’s going to hate you if you take a day off, Eddie.” You remind him. “I miss our days together.”

“I see you all the time.” He says defensively, but it’s not meant with malice.

“Sweetheart,” You say gently, using his own endearment on him, his eyes turned down and staring at his lap, “I don’t think you understand.”

“Then help me.” Eddie begs.

You smile slightly, brushing his wet hair away from his face.

“Tomorrow,” You tell him, “we’ll see how willing you are to talk when you’re sober.”

Eddie wakes before you, his phone vibrating off the nightstand and slamming to the floor—which in turn, startles you.

You catch half a sentence, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “—why, what’s up?” Eddie’s gruff voice says, throat dry.

His face quickly fades from relaxed to annoyed, pulling the phone away to glance at something before shoving the phone back to his ear.

“But, they moved the schedule around on me—they can’t just switch back.” Eddie complains, pausing to listen to the other end. “I mean, no—I’m not busy today or anything but—“

You yank the phone from his grip, ending the call and shoving the phone behind you. There was no other way to fix the situation than to handle it yourself.

Eddie watches in a state of shock, mouth hung open wordlessly. The phone rings again and Eddie nearly reaches for it, but your hand is shoved firmly against his chest.

“So help me god, Eddie Munson, if you answer that fuckin’ phone call.” You speak through clenched teeth, staring Eddie down just as intensely as he was you.

“But—“ Eddie begins.

“Are you going to get in trouble if you miss that call?” You ask.

“Well, no—“

“Then?”

Eddie sighs, falling back on the bed, hair spread out messily against the pillow. “Go ahead—say it.”

“Do you actually want to hear it?” You challenge, leaning up in bed fully. Eddie glances over sparingly.

“Something is bothering you,” He points out—the genius he is, having taken weeks to notice, “just say it.”

“Why won’t you have sex with me?”

Eddie’s personality flips like a switch, exactly as you suspected.

“What?” He asks with a bark of laugh, “That’s—we have sex all the time.”

“On camera.”

“And?”

“Eddie,” You warn, “drop the act, seriously.”

Eddie breathes sharply, lifting up onto his elbows.

“I’m boring.” Eddie admits lamely, a piss poor excuse.

“The sex I want to have, with you—it’s nothing like what we usually do on camera.” Eddie explains, “People always expect the other version of me—it’s not real.”

You laugh at the absurdity of it, “You think I don’t know that?”

“And I’ve never dated anyone before you—“

“I know, Steve told me.” You interrupted, “But what—that suddenly makes me unfuckable unless we’re doing it for money?”

“Look, I’ve hooked up with girls—and guys, casually. It’s never what they expect or want and then I end up having to fake it.” Eddie’s face flushes with embarrassment, staring down at your fiddling hands resting in your lap. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

You grab the soft throw pillow and toss it at Eddie, letting it hit him in the face gently.

“Ow,” Eddie complains, “What the hell?”

“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” You ask.

“No, of course not.” Eddie replies quickly. “But—you know how much I like you.”

“Is that why you suggested I have sex with you on camera in the first place—you were too scared I’d be turned off by you being—what’s the word…vanilla?”

It seems ridiculous having to ask, but it was the reality. Eddie stays silent, looking regretful.

“Fine—I’ll tell you a secret.” You sigh, staring up at the ceiling briefly to deliberate how mortifying this was going to be for the both of you, “I usually have to fake my orgasm for the camera.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open wide, “But, that’s on me—that’s my fault.”

“I hate the theatrics, Eddie. I hate trying to put on this stupid fucking facade—but you are not the problem. I can promise you that. I just can’t get into it anymore. The first time was—exciting? But, after that—“

“How often?” Eddie interrupts.

You shrug, having lost count at this point.

“Why do you think I always let you go down on me later?” You ask with a soft laugh, “It’s not you, Eddie.”

“You know, you’re breaking my heart over here.” Eddie chuckles awkwardly. “You’re really good at faking it.

You lean forward, crawling over the top of him until your legs are settled on either side of his hips, leaving him no choice but to look at you and nowhere else.

“We’re rectifying this situation.” You tell him, pulling your shirt over your head swiftly. “Clothes off.”

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth—“ Eddie responds, but doesn’t stop you from pulling at his shirt, lifting his body slightly to remove it, “what about Steve?”

“He’s already seen us have sex once,” You retort, “he’ll survive.”

Eddie laughs at that, genuine and full body. “Wait,” He pauses, grabbing your hips firmly to switch positions, flinging you onto the bed playfully, “that’s better.”

Eddie manages to get both of your underwear off with little trouble, shifting his hand down to trace over the seam of your cunt, but your hand stops him, giving him a small head shake.

“We can skip that,” You giggle slightly, reaching down for his already hard cock, mostly caused by morning wood, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t always half hard at the sight of you, “I just want you.”

You guide him in easily, both of you letting out a small collective gasp at the feeling, the burning hot sensation of your velvety walls squeezing around him like a vice. Your face scrunches in concentration, hands rising to his face, lingering along the planes of his neck.

Eddie’s thumb rubs at your chin gently, urging your attention back to him. When he has it, he can’t help but grin. “Yeah, look at me.” Eddie comments snidely, a small remnant of what you’re usually used to, but it’s masked in what he really feels, what he really wants.

Eddie’s thrusts are slow and long, his hand wandering the line of your body, squeezing at the creases—your hips, your knees, and back up to your face. He’s not even kissing you, only the soft pillowy flesh of his lips dragging against yours with every snap of his hips, moans pouring into each other’s mouths

And if this was what he was terrified of—you’d never understand.

The pace never picks up, remaining just as torturous as he starts, watching your cues for a sign—the way your moans pitch higher when you get close, or how hot to the touch your face is when you can feel your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie teases with a soft breath, “I know that look,” He rubs at the frustration in your brow, “talk to me.”

You shake your head in annoyance, gripping at the firmness of his shoulder, blunt nails digging into the skin as he lifts your legs a tad higher, the angle hitting deeper.

You whine, “Can’t—can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t like this.” You complain.

“You said you’d never had good sex before,” Eddie counters, “I just wanted it to be enjoyable for you.”

But this—this was exactly what you needed.

“Eddie—you seriously don’t give yourself enough credit.” You tell him through a harsh breath. “You’re always about giving and I just want you to finally take what you need from me—stop worrying about everything else. It’s me, I don’t need you to put on your act.”

“What, you don’t like it?” Eddie asks with a playful laugh.

“God, it’s so cliche.” You complain lightheartedly, “Hot, but I really can’t help but laugh about it sometimes.”

Eddie chuckles into your neck, “So that’s why you’re always trying to hide your face from the camera?” There’s a gentle kiss and a rough thrust as Eddie grips your thighs a little tighter, “And here, I thought I was just a funny guy.”

You nod weakly, “Not even close.” You tease, the sentence dying out on a moan as Eddie tips your head up again from where it’s gone slack, forcing your eyes back up to his.

“Fuck—can I come inside you?” Eddie asks sweetly, his face soft and vulnerable. “Please?”

And coming from a man who’s so used to controlling the show, you find yourself nodding before he can even finish the sentence. It was the one boundary you hadn’t crossed, all necessary precautions aside—there was no reason to worry.

Eddie slips his hand between you both wordlessly, working effortlessly at the task to bring you over the edge just as he has started to lose himself, his fingers a constant pressure against your sensitive, swollen bundle of nerves. It’s a gradual feeling that builds until it’s too intense to handle, but Eddie works you through the aftershocks until your legs are shaking and he’s coming inside you with a deep groan, whining out a soft “Fuck, baby.” in desperation.

Eddie doesn’t move for long after that, still seethed inside of you, both of you struggling to regulate your breathing. When he finally does, he pulls back to look at you, staring expectantly.

“Can I have my phone back?” Eddie asks with a faint laugh after a few minutes. You reach for it feebly, shoving the device into his hand. He can see the questioning look on your face the moment he takes it. “I’m making sure my schedule is cleared for the day—what, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Look at me—no, like actually look at me.” You urge him through a soft jab, his phone falling slightly in frustration as he looks at you, unable to stop the grin that grows on his face.

“What?”

“You never smile like this.” You tease, causing Eddie’s grin to grow wider.

“I’m happy.” Eddie shrugs, jokingly adding, “Is that a crime?”

You shake your head, shifting your body up slightly, causing Eddie to lean back. “Steve told me.”

Eddie raises his eyebrow in question.

“Why you overwork yourself.” You tell him, Eddie’s expression falling slightly. He reaches for the pile of clothes thrown on the floor and separates them accordingly.

“Here, get dressed”. He tells you, clumsily pulling his boxers on. “Let’s talk about it.”

“Really?�� You ask, the shock apparent in your voice. “Are you sure?”

“I should’ve talked to you about it sooner,” Eddie admits, pulling his shirt over his head. You’re already redressed by the time he finishes, sitting cross legged on your bed. “But to be fair, Steve and I were drunk when I talked about this shit—and you know how that goes.”

“So, you remember last night?” You ask curiously, “What you told me?”

“Some of it,” Eddie replies with uncertainty, “it’s a lot easier saying what’s on your mind when you’re not constantly worried about everything else.”

Eddie crawls back up the bed beside you, resting himself on his stomach. “My mom died when I was young—my dad’s in prison for drugs.” Eddie tries not to sound too fettered by it, but it’s there. “My uncle Wayne’s raised me since I was baby—taught me how to walk, got me through school, everything. We were piss fuckin’ poor and lived out of this one bedroom trailer for years. He slept on the couch and forced me to take the bed. My uncle, he worked nonstop when I was old enough to take care of myself. It still wasn’t really enough, but we scraped by.”

Eddie sighs, scratching the side of his face.

“I never want to rely on anyone—and I’m trying to support him too. I feel like I owe it to him. You just never know when this job is gonna fuck you over so I’m trying to make the most of it.”

Eddie craved stability, to the point where it blinded his sense of well-being. Steve would never be able to understand given his upbringing, not that he wasn’t already one of the more generous people you knew—but you could relate to Eddie in some areas.

“That doesn’t excuse your right for a break,” You tell him, “or a vacation, at least.”

“I know.” Eddie says begrudgingly, “I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself though—it’s like I need to keep busy or I get anxious.”

“When’s the last time you visited your uncle?”

“It’s been a while, maybe a year.” Eddie confesses. “We mostly talk over the phone, sometimes on video if I can get him to figure it out—it’s a process.”

“So, go visit him.” You urge, “Take a week off. Leave here.”

“What about you?” Eddie asks.

“I can handle myself for a week.” You laugh softly, “I just want to see you doing something that isn’t work related.”

“I mean—“ Eddie starts, but you’re already one step ahead.

“Not me, dumbass.” You retort, pushing his smug face away from you playfully. “Look, just promise me you’ll take some time off, please?”

Eddie holds up his pinky in a silent agreement, a cute gesture considering his stone cold demeanor. You accept the promise easily.

Eddie’s week off turns into a six month break. It started off simple, a quick trip to visit his uncle, a week away from the crazy. But, that small blip made Eddie realize just how hard he’d been working himself—and you couldn’t help but be a little smug when he returned later that week with that adorable frown on his face.

“You can help me,” You suggest gleefully, piling into his lap on the couch, “—like my hot assistant or something.”

“Or,” Eddie drags out the word, “like your boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes endearingly, “Same thing.”

“So, what?” Eddie asks, “Am I bringing you coffee and running your schedule?”

You hum softly, tilting your head to look at him, arms draped over his shoulders, fingers playing with the chain around hisneck.

“Steve’s tired of helping me with the pictures I need for content,” You tell him, “—remember how you said you would help with that and then made Steve take over?”

Eddie grimaces slightly, an apology on his tongue.

“Apologize to Steve, not me.” You quickly interrupt, pressing your fingers over his pouting lips. “Anyways—you can help with that and I happen to know a few niche group of people who might be interested in me bringing a guest on—“

“But, you said I needed to take a break.” Eddie defends weakly, “You just want to use me for my body, don’t you?”

“Mmm, no.” You shake your head with a gentle laugh, “Although, I’m planning on taking full advantage of having you to myself for a while—and I’m not planning to do those extravagant and planned out setups. That’s not my style.”

“Your style?” Eddie asks, seemingly intrigued. “God—I really have corrupted you, haven’t I?”

You snort, looking Eddie down with an ire of disbelief.

“It was already there, trust me.” You reassured him, “I just needed that push. Don’t credit yourself that much.”

“Is there anything else?” Eddie asks curiously, rubbing just fingers through the soft tendrils of your hair, his thumb rubbing at the soft spot behind your ear.

You smile with a hint of deviousness, leaning forward to press your lips against his, “I’m sure I’ll find something to keep you busy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks softly, his fingers reaching for the button of your jeans, pulling you to him harshly, all teeth and tongue as pulls a sigh out of you, mouth opening for him.

The door opens unknowingly behind you both and Steve’s mortification continues, “No, no, no,” He complains, throwing the small pack of toilet paper at both of you, “—in the bedroom, we talked about this shit.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says through a deep chuckle, turning to face Steve, arm coming to wrap around waist to keep you steady in his lap, “—considering we’ve all fucked each other in some form, by adjacent or something—“

You quickly cover Eddie’s mouth with your palm, both you and Steve sharing a look, “Six months—six months of this.” He reminds you vehemently.

“He’s just—“ Eddie’s muffled voice speaks against your hand, shaking his head to force it away, “He’s just mad he’s gotta find someone to fill my spot.”

Steve makes a dramatic pfft sound from the kitchen, tossing his bags on the counter before glancing back over at you, holding his fingers up and mouthing a very obvious, “Six. Months.”

“Very mad—” You whisper to Eddie, again interrupted by a frustrated Steve.

“I hope you two are treating me to dinner,” Steve remarks, glading you both down, “otherwise I’m begging you to take the love-fest elsewhere.”

“What are you thinking?” Eddie turns to you, “Italian—“

“Chinese.” Steve calls from the kitchen.

You sigh, giving Eddie an apologetic look, “Welcome to your life for the next several months.”

And truly, Eddie’s never enjoyed himself more—in the company of the people he cares about the most, it really wasn’t all that bad.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #camboy!eddie #my writing #1kfic

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