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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

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The Ends of Hallways (Proxies X F!Reader)

The Ends of Hallways

[Proxies X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language]

[AN: Y'all are just gonna have to thank Eris for always sending me the best requests. I don't have favorites,,, but Reader, I have favorites. Also no Kate sorry :( ]

Your face was practically squished against the glass of the car Hoodie had stolen as the four of you pull into the parking lot of woods that brim with the Operator’s energy. You’ve never seen these woods in person - only in dreams. You’ve never even really seen your master in person, once again, like these woods, he too has been confined to your dreams. But you hear him, and often. His voice falls down on your ears like gentle rains that fall from the heavens. He is everything and more. That is why it is so exciting for you to finally be here, so close to him, and to his presence.

“You excited?” You hear your group leader ask.

You nod and press harder up against the glass. “Are we going now?” You’re ready to bounce out of the car and everyone can see that.

He chuckles in response. “What do you think Hood? Time to go?”

The hazel eyed man behind him shoots the driver a look. “Masky, just look at her, she’s gonna break the window if we don’t.” There’s a slight playfulness in his tone that tells you the right hand really isn’t annoyed with you.

“Fair enough,” Masky smiles. He then reaches behind his seat, hand slapping at who used to be the runt’s knee. “Tobes? Tob-Tobes, get up.”

Toby’s eyes shoot open as he lurches forward. “I’m u-u-up, I-I’m u-up,” he yawns as his hands rub tiredly at his eyes. “Are w-w-we here a-alaready?” He asks, the exhaustion still clear in his tone.

Both of the men in the front seats nod. “C’mon, let’s get going,” Hoodie says as he pulls up the lock on his car door before sliding out.

You wait impatiently for Masky to unlock the car then zip out like a bat from hell. You’re immediately at the edge of one of the forest’s many trails and taking in the sights and sounds of your boss’s woods. They’re beautiful, really. The autumn colors bathe the woods in fiery oranges and passionate reds with threads of gold to interlock it all together. The sky is just the slightest shade of blue as clouds cover the sun. There weren’t any people here either - not under the little structures, not exploring, not anyone but you and your comrades.

“Wrong one,” Hoodie says as he closes the trunk to the car before tossing a backpack to Toby, who catches it like second nature.

You whip your head around to see that Masky, Hoodie and Toby are smiling at how excited you are before silently asking you to follow them. “Where are we going?” You ask, eyes wide as you jog up to them.

“Across the field. There’s this cool tunnel of trees we think you’ll appreciate,” Masky replies as he leads his group across the grass. It crunches slightly as the four of you move, like it hasn’t been watered in a long time.

“R-Really?” Toby hums as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You s-s-sure we’re n-not gonna be l-late?” The young proxy gives a slight look to his group leader, eyebrow raised as if he’s sure the Operator is okay with them possibly being tardy.

Masky shakes his head before tapping his temple with his free hand, “he told me it’s okay.”

“He did?” You ask as stars cloud your eyes. The Operator, as you’ve heard so far, is to be feared and respected. He’s like a father you can look at but never touch. He seems so out of your range, like he’s not even visible - not even if you squint your eyes. You wonder what makes you so… interesting… in his eyes. You really don’t think you’re worth all the fuss. Clearly he does.

Masky chuckles before ruffling your hair with his hand, “yeah. I think he finds your enthusiasm endearing.” Masky’s not entirely incorrect. When they first got Toby, the Operator was strangely favorable towards the young proxy as well - maybe because he was hand plucked, special, and therefore deemed worthy of his time. You were similar to Toby, albeit, you accidentally got involved with the Operator. He liked you, chose you, then kept you.

Hoodie whistles slightly as the four of you step into the trees, his gloved hand reaching up to tear off a branch from one of the low hanging trees then swing it aimlessly as his side. “Seems pretty obvious in my opinion,” he whacks Toby lightly with the stick making said proxy laugh. “Looks like Toby isn’t the only golden child anymore.”

“P-Probably not,” Toby hums, a slight melancholy coming into his tone. “Think I-I’ve been losing f-f-favor with h-hin for a w-while.” He glances over his shoulder and smiles at you.

You frown slightly and place your hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think so,” you say. “Just means he has two golden child-s now.”

Toby beams.

You do too.

The group continues to move through the trees, mostly silent save for Masky and Hoodie pointing out little memories from time to time. Things such as some guy named ‘Alex’ chasing them through here, Masky’s waking up with no memory, Hoodie’s nature shots, and everything in between. You learn a lot about the hands of your group from when they were just scared film students to the things they’ve done as proxies here. It’s kind of nice as you’ve never really spoken to them this way before.

When you first came into this life and were placed in this group, the hazing process kicked in like wildfire. Almost every day was a mentally or physically, sometimes both, a draining task and a bonding agent. Authority was not to be questioned and they made that more than clear. Eventually, the hazing grew lighter and lighter until it just… didn’t exist. That was how it went - you were no longer considered naive and starry eyed. Still, authority was not to be questioned, and it’s why you and your comrades have never really talked on this specific level before.

It’s why it’s such a treat that you get to talk to them like this now.

Eventually, the four of you make it to an odd stretch of trees. They tunnel over each other, a lot like a thorny funnel, but they frame the sky so well.

“If the sun was setting,” Masky starts. “It would look like a cradle.”

You take a step back and observe the tunnel of trees, trying to imagine the setting sun. The mental image is pretty. “Will we ever be back here to see it?”

“Oh definitely,” Masky continues. “But uh, the business we’re here for today? Don’t know if that’s meant for anyone but me and maybe Hoodie.”

You look on instinct to Hoodie who nods. “Is that normal?”

“Sure is,” Hoodie says as he takes in the scent of the cooling autumn woods. He knows the group is almost to the limits of the Operator’s realm. “Tell me what you feel right now, Reader,” he says in passing as he flicks the stick somewhere off the given trail.

With a glance around at your surroundings, you attempt to get a feel for the area you’re in. It’s cold, much colder, but the atmosphere still feels a little thick. The further you go into the woods (and by extension the Operator’s bounds to which you don’t even know exist yet), you get that odd feeling in your legs that feels like they’ve fallen asleep. It’s like the physical sensation of static. You try to explain it in words, but they fail. Instead, you allow Hoodie into your thoughts.

“Nice,” he smiles. “Alright, try to ask for permission in.”

“I need to ask for permission?”

“E-Everytime,” Toby begins as he and the others pause. They’re right on the edge of the bubble and can feel it so much stronger than you can. “It’s t-to ensure n-normal humans c-can’t come in,” Toby begins to explain as you gaze around your surroundings, wondering how you’ll even begin to ask. “T-Though, their f-feelings sometimes k-kick into o-overdrive and they e-end up p-piercing through the v-veil on a-a-accident.” He chuckles softly and you know exactly what he’s referring to - you’ve heard tales of the people who get stuck wandering where they shouldn’t: always ends in someone strung up in the pines. “W-We’ve all learned t-to ask p-permission like b-breathing.”

You shoot your comrade a confused glance, wondering what that will mean for you. “I just ask?”

“Kind o-of,” Toby says. “Just l-let your f-f-feelings guide you. She’ll t-t-tell you whether you’re a-a-allowed in or not.”

You close your eyes and begin to hone in on whatever your heart is telling you. It’s a cold feeling, mostly like vines that slip up and down your limbs as they grow upwards and then inwards towards your heart. It’s an odd feeling. Once the static vines pierce through your heart, you physically see a fog roll into the forest around you. It consumes you and your comrades before you remember Toby mentioned ‘she.’ The fog thickens. “Wait, she?” You say as the static begins to leave your system. It feels like you’re tearing through roots as you walk forward.

“He didn’t mean it,” Masky quickly replies as he begins to pull you through the fog. “Good job on asking though. Strong response,” he says as gestures to the fog, his hand swimming through the billowy clouds. “Wives’ tale is the stronger the fog, the more genuine you were in response.”

You wade your fingers through the thick fog as you and the others walk forward, deeper and deeper into the darkness where there was none. “Must’ve had a really genuine response, huh?” You mumble to yourself. The fog doesn’t even feel like normal fog - it feels thick and heavy and leaves slight dew on your clothing as you walk. How interesting.

‘Head talk from here on out,’ Hoodie says as the four of you reach a stretch of woods that feels slightly dangerous.

‘Did you feel it too?’ Toby asks, his hand at his hatchet.

Hoodie nods slightly, his eyes narrowing as he slows his pace so he’s guarding the back. He gives you a slightly concerned look as the fog evens out. Everyone but you knows that they’re in perhaps one of the most dangerous parts of the veil. The Operator’s mere presence is usually enough to deter the things like the Rake from his grounds, but that often means they get trapped here - in the in-between - and lash out on the first thing they sense. The sooner the four of you get out of this dangerous spot, the better.

‘What do you sense?’ You ask, cutting mentally through the rough silence, your own hand moving to your blade.

Hoodie looks like he’s about to answer you before he holds his fist up and the other three of you duck down instantly, dipping below the fog. Just then, some deer begin walking past.

‘Deer?’ You say in a questioning tone.

‘Not just any deer,’ Hoodie begins as the deer slowly nibbles on the leaves and other things. ‘Take a good look at their bodies. They look normal to you?’

You narrow your eyes slightly and get used to peering through the fog as the deer pass. Eventually, you’re able to look at their coats. There’s something off about them, something wrong. Something you can’t quite place. The longer you watch them as they move in front of you, the stronger that off feeling gets. They have every physical part of the deer down but it’s just not right. It’s like their joints don’t fit well beneath their skin. And their eyes… Their eyes are completely hollow.

‘You see it?’ Masky asks as the last of the deer passes by. He glances over his shoulder briefly to see you nod. ‘We’re lucky they didn’t change this time,’ he mumbles, slowly inching forward while crouched against the earth.

‘What would’ve happened if they changed?’ You inquire, moving quietly alongside your comrades.

‘Nightmare fuel,’ Toby finally pipes in. ‘Nothing about them looks right. Big mouths full of sharp teeth, black eyes, too many limbs, like a messed up centipede,’ he finishes, a slight shudder coming into his mental tone.

You notice the other two of your group members nodding in agreement before finally deeming it safe enough to stand up and finally exit the in-between of the veil.

You’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful, rustic looking Germanic mansion surrounded by iron gates that hold honeycomb patterns that trail skywards only to end on sharp peaks that you’re almost certain your boss has spiked people on plenty of times. There’s also flowers of every kind in the front gardens that catch your eyes the moment you step through the grand gates. There’s fountains and topiaires, statues and benches that tell you the Operator drips with style and elegance.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Masky smiles.

You nod, “it’s gorgeous.” The air smells slightly expensive, but mostly sweet. How is it that a place like this can even possibly exist? Around the mansion are autumnal trees, mostly maple, some sycamore and other birch. Scattered on the front lawn are other proxies and some independents, mostly catching up and talking before leaving through the same gates you entered from. Some of them smile and wave as they pass you, others grunt and turn their nose up at you upon realizing you’re the youngest. This place sings with the Operator’s overwhelming presence.

Your comrades continue to watch your amused expression as they lead you to the front doors of the mansion. They’re large and stained glass, slightly gothic in woodwork and tower over you.

“Go ahead,” Hoodie chuckles as he nods for you to open the doors.

You glance back to him, then at the large doors before tentatively placing your hands on their surface. With a small breath, you push them open and find yourself greeted to the most exquisite foyer you’ve ever seen. Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling, sapphires and rubies drip from the fixtures and shine the light beautifully across the marble floors. Gold leaf adorns almost everything that juts out while the huge staircase in front of you beckons you forward.

“Doesn’t seem like he needs us yet,” Masky says as he checks his watch. “Got here earlier than expected, huh?” He lightly ribs Hoodie who rolls his eyes in response. “C’mon, let’s go to the sun room. Don’t wanna wait around in here.” He nods for the three of you to follow.

Toby clears his throat slightly as if to remind the two in charge that you’re still very much here and new.

“Oh, right,” Masky says. “Reader, this is super important, so listen up,” your group leader begins as he turns on his heels to eventually rest his hands on your shoulders.

You raise a brow at his sudden contact. Masky normally didn’t touch you unless what he had to say was important - which really, really didn’t happen often.

“This mansion likes to play off your thoughts, feelings, and logic,” he says, his hand gesturing to the staircase that’s slowly moving directions. You didn’t even hear it begin to shift. “The Operator usually keeps things in line for when he summons you, it’s almost a guaranteed path you’ll make it to him, but,” his eyes go serious. “If it’s just you and you’re moving around, you need to have a place in mind or it’ll accidentally spit you out somewhere totally random. We’ve had people get lost in here because the mansion is slightly playful and weirdly baneful depending on the individual walking around.”

“The Operator has a playful side?”

Masky stifles a laugh before shaking you lightly. “I legitimately mean it, you need to have a place in mind or you’re gonna get lost and the Operator isn’t gonna be happy. By extension, I won’t be happy because I need to come get you.”

“Mhm,” Hoodie nods in agreement. “And you can’t have the thought in passing either, it’s gotta be on your mind until it’s in sight.” After Hoodie’s words leave his mouth, Masky lets you go.

You take all the information in and wonder just what makes the place run. It’s like it has its own personality - it’s playful and baneful? You have to ask it permission to even enter its grounds and it deems whether you’re worthy or not? What kind of power does the Operator even have and why on earth would he even care about that kind of stuff? If he truly wanted his proxies to access him, he’d do it with no hesitation. The humans that would wander into his rooms would just end up tasting someone’s blade.

“Sun room?” Hoodie reminds Masky.

Your entire walk to the sun room you try to conjure a mental image in your head. They say it’s doubtful you’ll get lost so long as you’re with them, but you consider it good practice. When you finally make it to the sun room, you’re pleased to see it’s relatively empty save for a few groups interspersed in the large, window adorned room overlooking a silver lake. There’s a few independents walking around with carts holding different tea time finger-foods and waiting tea sets on every table. Maasky leads you over to one of the tables nearest to the view of the lake.

“So, what business exactly are we here for today?” You ask as you waste no time in pouring yourself some tea.

Masky shrugs, “no idea. He said he just wanted us to come.”

“T-Think he r-really only n-needs an audience w-with them though,” Toby adds before silently thanking you for pouring him some tea as well. “L-Leaves us some t-t-time to chat. Y’know, t-the thing H-Hood hates us d-doing,” he lightly jokes.

Hoodie scoffs and feigns being annoyed, “I only hate you two chatting when we’re in the middle of tearing out some guy’s entrails.”

“Y-Yeah, which is a-all the time,” Toby giggles.

You laugh as well.

The four of you are in a heated argument about something relatively stupid when static overtakes Masky and Hoodie’s hearing. They visibly pause, as if they’re trying to key into something you can’t understand when it suddenly stops.

“Have t-to go?” Toby inquires before taking a strawberry tart and popping it into his mouth.

Both Masky and Hoodie nod.

“Yeah. Keep an eye on Reader, please? We won’t be too long,” Masky replies with a small, tired smile.

Toby flashes the two a thumbs up before the both of you watch them leave, a clear destination on their minds.

It’s not long until Toby gets distracted by some other independents that stroll into the mansion. You recognize the two of them as relatively minor legends - well, maybe not the one with the smile. His name is Jeff.

“So, this is your fresh meat, huh?” Jeff chuckles as he lightly pushes Toby’s shoulder. “She looks a little scrawny. Are you feeding her right?”

Toby laughs and nods, “Masky w-w-would lose his m-mind if you s-s-said that.”

Jeff’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “I’m joking,” he holds his hand up as a sign of truce. “Hope you know you’re running with one of the only decent groups out there, Reader,” he says before picking up his tea cup. It looks slightly comical as he brings it to his lips.

You offer him a smile and nod, “yeah, I know.”

The man to Jeff’s left nods in agreement, “Masky’s really good at what he does. Got one of the best.”

Toby immediately fights the notion (playfully) and the three engage in conversation that’s lively and vibrant all the same. You listen to the three verbally duke it out before you find yourself bored. You can’t just leave though, but you want to move at the same time.

“Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I excuse myself?”

“W-Where to?”

“Washroom,” you reply.

“Do y-you need m-me to a-accompany y-y-you?”

Both Eyeless Jack and Jeff scoff.

“She’s a big girl, let her go,” Jeff says as he nods his own approval for you to go. “You told her about the mindset thing?”

Toby nods.

“Yeah, then she’s good to go,” Eyeless Jack agrees.

You flash the men at your table a smile before getting up. You push in your chair and then make it to the entrance of the sunroom, leading into the halls. You don’t have a set destination in mind. The moment you step out of the sunroom, you feel the air change. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s different. On instinct, you turn your gaze over your shoulder to see the sunroom is gone. It’s just hall and lining the hall are doors upon doors.

Alright, you can work with that! A small smile comes to your face as you begin to walk forwards, allowing your curiosity to bloom. The first door you decide to open is one that’s honestly not that exciting. It was just a storage unit. Another was a study. Then it was someone’s room. Another room. And another. How many residence rooms are there?

You close yet another door and then feel a thought come into your head, taking a seat on your train of thought like a butterfly sunbathes on a flower. She - Toby had mentioned it. And you wondered. You let the thought stay. Before you know it, you’re walking through the halls guided by forces you don’t quite understand, and the further you get into the mansion, the stranger the atmosphere becomes. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s not a normal feeling either. You watch as the light fixtures change from something relatively modern and regress into something more vintage. The dust begins to kick up. Irish lace begins to pepper the ceiling. You notice how the doors change style as well. How strange.

Eventually, you reach a dead end stretch of hall. At the very end of this hall is a singular door that looks weathered, as if it was sunbleached and painted over in oils. There’s an elegance to it you can’t quite place, and like a siren song, you find yourself being beckoned to it. Your proxy instincts kick in like second nature the closer you draw to it. You feel your breathing lighten, your steps as well, and you move towards it with a silence that is unmatched - as if you’re floating on air. You draw closer and closer to the door. It’s so magnetic, and you can’t quite explain why/ But closer still you must be to it.

Your hand tenderly grasps the doorknob - it feels like ice - and you twist it open. You wonder if you should be doing this. A part of you feels like you shouldn’t be doing this, but another part of you says this is what you were meant to see. You push the door open ever so slightly, just enough to be able to see inside, but the door is heavy, almost as if it doesn’t want you to. Like it’s trying to protect you from something further. You wonder if it just wishes to keep its secrets.

It’s gorgeous, it truly is. It puts the rest of the mansion to shame. It looks old - perhaps from 16th century Germany and fit for royalty. Plants of all kinds line the walls. They look like emeralds as light shines through their leaves. The sunlight kisses the flowers that sprout from the stalks. Beautiful woodwork surrounds the windows that are covered in fairytale-esque stained glass pieces. The scent is of something much, much sweeter and warmer than the rest of the mansion. Your eyes then draw to the center of the room, where an ornate table sits. There’s gold leaf decorating its legs followed by symbols you can’t really pin down. A tablecloth that looks like it was weaved from the stars above is the only thing that separates a delicate tea set from the precious mahogany table. The tea smells heavenly from where you stand.

Before you can press into the room, you pause upon seeing slender, pale hands take hold of the tea pot. Your eyes follow upwards to the owner of the hands only to see a woman so much more beautiful than the moon in twilight and the sun in the morning. Falling from her shoulders was golden hair that looked like a sea of amber as it cascaded down near the floor. Flowers were woven into it - mostly snowdrops, baby’s breath and queen Anne’s lace. She’s dressed in something from medieval Europe, and never once does her sleeve touch the table. She begins to pour herself some tea, a honey like hum coming from her being as she pours the sweet liquid. Her eyes flick upwards for but a moment when she hears a bird chirping outside. Her eyes are so dark, there exists no white sclera. They’re so dark, like black holes that hide in the depths of space, but you feel as if she holds the universe inside of them. She’s so beautiful, you’re not sure she’s real. A cat has jumped up onto the table, purring at her. When she smiles, your heart sings.

You want to say hello to her and spend time in her presence when you attempt to open the door some more. It creaks slightly. The hinges are ancient. Before you can say anything, the door is slammed shut, sending you flying backwards. You let out a sound of shock before seeing Toby reaching down to get you.

“What t-the hell a-a-are you thinking?” He hisses as he picks you up, grabbing your bicep and beginning to drag you away from the door that still holds your attention. “You r-really just w-wandered off l-like that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, attempting to get free of his grasp as he continues to pull you along. No matter how hard you smack at him, he doesn’t let go.

“M-Masky said it’s not s-safe for y-y-you to wander o-off. A-And without m-me? D-D-Did you have a-any cognitive t-t-thought when you w-went out on a l-limb like t-that?” He sounds so heated.

You find he’s bringing you back to the sunroom, undoubtedly going to tell Masky and Hoodie about your misbehavior. “Why are you being so weird?” You retort as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. “It’s just a room!” You cry out in an exasperated tone.

Toby only reprimands you louder. It’s a losing game.

You eventually find yourself back in the sunroom. Only, instead of Eyeless Jack and Jeff, you see the deeply concerned and slightly pissed off faces of Masky and Hoodie. They’re not happy to see you, and you’re not exactly thrilled to see you either.

“Take a s-s-seat,” Toby says in a harsh tone as he thrusts you back into your seat.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Masky asks, not even attempting to mask his voice because that’s the privilege of being a proxy. You’re able to reprimand your proxies without anyone giving a care.

“You can’t just go off like that,” Hoodie continues as he furrows his brows. “You could’ve gotten-”

“Hurt? This is the Operator’s mansion, what the fuck is gonna hurt me in here other than himself or you two?”

“That’s it,” Masky points out. “He can seriously hurt you if you snoop where you shouldn’t!” His hands grips at your wrist, tightening to a point of pain.

When you feel tears prick your eyes, Hoodie sighs and puts his hand on Masky’s shoulder, “stop it.”

Masky hesitantly lets you go.

“What did you see?” Hoodie asks with a deep sigh, his posture tensing. He’s really hoping you didn’t see the Operator’s trophy room.

You give your comrades a concerned look, not sure whether you should answer or not when Hoodie raises a slight brow. Damn it. You’re emotionally compromised. He’s seeing what he needs to without your permission.

“That’s… Odd…” He says.

Masky glances to Hoodie. “No.”

“Unfortunately, I think yeah,” Hoodie says with a growing frown. He glances to Toby for confirmation, and upon seeing Toby’s nod, says “yeah,” again.

Masky groans and puts his face into his hands, finding comfort in being buried into himself.

You hold your wrist in your hand and lean back in your chair. “Just… What is it you guys aren’t telling me?” You question, hoping they’d just bite the bullet and tell you.

The group shares a look, debating whether they should even say it or not. When no one says anything, you press them again.

“Come on,” you sigh. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It really could be,” Masky says as he finally releases his face from his hands. “No one knows what seeing it does.”

Your eyes widen before you bark a laugh. “What?”

“No, he’s serious,” Hoodie picks up. “Seeing that door is rare, like, rainbow pikachu rare. Proxies think it’s an omen or a bad luck thing. To see it means a group’s eventual demise.”

You briefly scoff at the thought of proxies being superstitious before you remember some of you can actually cast portals. It’s really not that out of pocket.

“N-No one has e-e-ever found o-out though,” Toby shrugs. “W-We just know t-that the g-groups that h-h-have n-normally e-end in death.” He looks a little uncomfortable as he says the words, like there’s a legitimate truth to what he’s saying even though he’d rather it be utter BS.

“To be fair, we thought it was a rumor prior to you sneaking off,” Hoodie says as he tries to calm down his group.

You take in this information with a small frown. How could something that beautiful be that evil or a harbinger of doom? The thought of it left you perplexed as your comrades continued to lecture you on not wandering off until Masky and Hoodie were called away.

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable leaving Reader here with-”

Toby rolls his eyes, “you c-cant just s-say you want m-me to come with i-instead. N-Not need to insult m-my competence a-a-as a babysitter,” he mumbles before glancing down to his hatchets.

Masky sighs and nods for Toby to follow him out. Looks like it’s just you and Hoodie.

“So,” you awkwardly begin, not really sure what to do or what to say.

“So,” Hoodie hums back. “Anywhere you wanted to go?” When he sees the glint in your eyes, he shakes his head. “Like, a normal place. We’re gonna be here for a while while those two are out,” he chuckles, watching as you visibly deflate.

You allow the question to bang around in your head until you nod with a thought in mind. “The library. I’d like to go to the library.”

Hoodie smiles at that suggestion and finishes the rest of his tea before standing up. He stretches for a moment, then leads you to the hallway your original snooping began. You noticed as his thoughts immediately became clouded with the word and vision of ‘library’ as the two of you trekked the halls. As you walked, you barely recognized any of the doors you passed. They weren’t on your radar, which was odd in your opinion as you had opened a lot of door you probably shouldn’t have.

Eventually, you reach two large oak doors. Hoodie pushes them open and you’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful library. It’s impossibly huge - how could such a place exist in the mansion? You’re well aware it’s a huge place, but the fact that all of this is here… It’s bigger than a downtown city library you visited when passing through Chicago a few months ago. The Operator’s influence is beautiful, isn’t it?

“I’m gonna be in the sci-fi section,” Hoodie says as he nods over to the right wing of the library. “It’s on the second floor.” You notice the spiral staircase that leads to what appears to be a balcony - it must stretch backwards forever. “Check in with me in about 15 minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.” It’s surprising how relaxed he’s being with you. You would have expected someone like Hoodie to be a lot angerier and more observational.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you nod and flash him a thumb’s up before bounding over to the left wing of the library. Nothing is properly labeled, but you get a strong bout of intuition where everything is. Right now, you’re on the hunt for history.

The aisle that holds the history books looks just as old as you would have expected it to. The books here aren’t any you’ve ever seen in stores either - they’re largely from the time period they’re to be representing. Some are more modern, but you get the feeling that they don’t exist anywhere else but under the Operator’s influence. You find a few books that talk about the early history of proxies, some on independents, but nothing to inform you on what you had found.

It’s honestly a little maddening. You check in with Hoodie when you have to - he asks you to list the spines of the books you’re currently looking at - and then you’re back to your fruitless search. You run up and down the halls of the history section looking for anything when you hear static begin to buzz in your heads. The feeling travels upwards like the vines you felt earlier from your heels to your chest. When they claw deep into your heart, you feel a pull. And once again, like a sailor beckoned to the rocks due to a siren’s song, you follow it.

It twists and turns you through the shelves, making you zip past the few proxies and independents that are currently visiting this wing of the library before you’re drawn to a rotunda. You look backwards and see in the distance the front doors of the library. When did this place get a middle wing? It was just straight shelves and a wall with large windows overlooking the rolling hills of the woods. You turn your attention upwards to the ceiling of the rotunda. There’s a large skylight that allows sunlight to cascade down. Around that are gems you don’t even know the name of that weave a mosaic of something positively divine. You allow your gaze to follow the shaft of warm sunlight down, and there, sitting at a table with a book in hand (it looks like a journal) is the Operator himself.

“S-Sir!” You manage to squeak out as you find yourself startled to be in his presence, Heat rises to your cheeks when he looks up from his book to turn his attention to you.

“How did you get here?” He asks, confusion etching his body as he curiously tilts his head.

Your breath hitches. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, bowing your head almost immediately. “I don’t know how I got here. It just felt like a pull and suddenly I was here? I was in the left wing and looking over history books and I-” you continue to rattle off until the Operator holds up his hand, silently signaling you to stop. You do so as soon as he asks.

“I-. It’s no matter,” he waves off. “Come, sit down beside me.” An inky black tendril sprouts from his back as he pulls the chair in front of him out, allowing you to sit in his presence.

You will your stone-like legs forward and attempt to gracefully take a seat in front of him. It’s a slightly awkward silence before he speaks again.

“How have you been, Miss Reader?”

“I’m alright,” you reply, voice no higher than a whisper.

The Operator hums. “Good.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Child, where is your book?”

“I uh, didn’t grab one?” You answer softly. You can tell the Operator is looking at you with what he can convey to his fullest as confusion. “When I was pulled here I just.. Followed,” you attempt to explain. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

“And what have you done today?” He asks, giving his passing attention to you like a father would.

You bite your lip before steering the conversation towards the room you saw. “I think I met someone.”

“You did, did you?”There’s a passing interest as if he’s saying ‘that’s nice, honey.’

You nod. “She was in a tea room-”

He pauses.

“I found her by accident-”

He makes sure he’s hearing you correctly.

“Her hair was golden-”

He looks up.

“She had plants-”

He’s sitting upright now.

“She had a cat-”

He leans forward.

“Her smile rivaled the stars-”

He’s focusing so intently on you now.

“Her voice was like honey-”

He entirely focused on you.

“She was beautiful.”

The Operator’s ichor pauses for just a moment as he takes in the description of the woman you described. It makes a part of him sing and another part of him sob. He hasn’t heard of her in so, so long.

When you look up, you see the Operator practically leaned halfway over the table and entirely focused on you. It makes you jump. “I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, thinking you saw something you shouldn’t have. “I wasn’t thinking and I uh, think the mansion led me to her?”

The Operator wordlessly nods. “Was she pouring tea?” He asked, voice so much gentler than anything you could ever expect him to conjure up.

You slowly nod. “She was.”

The Operator suddenly slumps down, making you jolt. You rise on instinct to help him when he waves you back down. “Do you realize who you’ve come into contact with?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I’m afraid not, Sir,” you say with slight remorse.

The Operator chuckles deeply - it rumbles his chest and in your head. “You found her.” He could smile, you were sure it would be from ear to ear if he had the correct facial features. “All these years later and you found her.” He emphasizes you like a bittersweet affirmation.

“Who is she?” You ask softly.

Your boss sits back up again. “Someone who loves me,” his tendril sprouts once again from his back and moves towards you. “Someone who loves you,” it taps your nose. “Someone who loves us.” The tendril makes a grand, sweeping gesture.

You take in the words and nod, still not knowing what they mean. Upon seeing your confusion, he decides to elaborate.

“A long, long time ago, in a realm you could not begin to fathom, there was light and there was dark,” he begins, his voice slipping into something akin to someone saying a bedtime story. “I was the light, and that cur we call Zalgo was the dark.”

You scrunch your nose at the sound of his name.

“The dark and the light were born from nothing, and she was beautiful.” His audible smile is actually endearing to hear. “Throughout the years, the light and the dark fought, constantly at each other's throats. It was woven in the threads of history, it had been our birthright. When we came to this place, this planet after being cast from our home - a palace amongst all palaces, a kingdom that rose far above any other, the nothingness came with us. She called herself Liebevolle Frau. She loved her children.” By this point in the story, the Operator has taken the liquids from the coffee cup he drinks from and animated them into the characters for this story.

You watch with stars in your eyes.

“But no guardian is without its favorites, and I happened to be hers.” Liebevolle Frau’s figure was shown sheltering the Operator’s much smaller one. “And this caused a rift that could not be mended through the light and dark. Eventually, the dark waged war on the light.”

It’s a war you’re still fighting to this day.

“In the 1500s, long after this mansion had been built and my power continued to grow, Zalgo had almost wiped us off the face of the earth to splatter out remains across all the five realms. Liebevolle Frau, thought caught off guard,” that would explain the tea, “sheltered me and protected this place and all who resided in it. At the time,” the Operator looks at you. “Independents and proxies had lived here much more commonly than they do now.”

You smile softly.

“Liebevolle Frau’s power had been pushed to its limit in holding back her first born son, and mind, as well as her heart, broke because of it. In her remaining moments of lucidity, she imbued herself, her soul,” the liquids take the form of something fluttering and soft, like a bird, “her everything, and became the place I hold jurisdiction over today.”

Your eyes widen as you think back to the odd feelings you’ve had coming here for today - and Toby’s slip-up.

“I have not been able to find her since the late 1500s,” The Operator explains as the liquids dance back into the coffee mug, the figure of Liebevolle Frau taking a hair longer than the rest. “She lives in everything.”

You’re honestly speechless over everything the Operator has said because it’s so… It’s strangely heartfelt. You’ve never even spoken face to face with your boss and when you do, it’s because some force is guiding you to do so. But if that force felt so alive, it must have meant she wanted you to know.

“Her physical form,” you finally manage to wisp out. “She wanted to be at peace, didn’t she?”

The Operator chuckles deeply. “I would assume so.”

Before you can respond to anything or even come up with another response, you hear both Masky AND Hoodie yelling for you in your head. The jarring difference between your boss’s gentle voice and Masky and Hoodie crying out for blood is enough to make you jump (once again).

Upon seeing your sudden switch in atmosphere, the Operator hushes the voices in your head and calls them to his side.

Toby is the first to show up though, and quickly trailing after him is Masky and Hoodie. They both look ready to reprimand you but upon seeing you sitting with the Operator, nothing but reverence crosses their minds and bodies.

“Good evening, Sir,” Masky says as he bows his head. “Are you well?”

“Thoughtful, aren't you, Timothy?” There’s no animosity or anger in the Operator’s tone, but it makes Masky blush all the same.

A pregnant pause passes.

“I was just speaking with your newest member, Miss Reader,” a pale hand gestures to you. “Come, join us. I could use the company.”

You watch as confused glances get shared between your three comrades before they take a seat beside you.

A pleasant silence passes through the air before a gentle humming that’s sweeter than honey overtakes it like a passing breeze.

#masky #hoodie #ticci toby #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #mh #reader insert #x reader #slender man #the operator #slender man x reader

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silv3rswirls · 4 years

Text

Learning Experience Pt.2

Anon asks: can we please get more of prof joon? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 something like namjoon bent her on his desk and was drilling into her from behind, then Professor Min walks in on them. 👀💀 it's high time you wrote a threesome, baby 🥵 two doms degrading, spitting and cumming on one inexperienced student sub oof- 👀🥵 i need me some holy water 🥵 it doesn’t have to be suga btw, add any member you like 🥺🥺 love you ❤️🥺

Warnings: female reader, professor/student, blowjobs, threesome, spit, spanking dirty talk/degradation, slight crying, overstimulation

Word count: 2k

nsfw below the cut

Your next after-class meeting with Professor Kim couldn’t have come sooner. Just waiting through his class drove you mad with impatience and left your mind to run wild and dirty as he lectured for the hour. You fidgeted in your seat as time ticked down, not caring about the annoyed glances the students around you were giving. Your mind was dead set on the fantasy of Namjoon fucking you, especially since it felt like it had been forever since the last time. Spring break had come quickly and Namjoon seemed too busy to meet up during the break- that or he didn’t want to. His class was ending soon as well, leaving you unsure of what would become of your and your professor’s odd relationship. Maybe it was foolish to have grown somewhat attached to him. Besides fulfilling just about every sexual fantasy and desire you had- he was actually pretty nice.

As everyone packed their belongings up and scurried out of the classroom, you stayed behind, slowly putting your things away before looking to Namjoon with a small smile. “Y/n, I was surprised to see how well you did” he commented as he flashed your latest paper to you.

You shrugged, “ I have a good teacher.” Your eyes followed Namjoon as he finished clearing his papers off his desk and slid his laptop away. You got up, moving to sit up on his desk and wait for him like always.

“You’re so impatient, can’t even make small talk?” He teased, rounding the desk to stand before you. You chewed on your lip, a wave of butterflies in your stomach as he leaned in closer. His hands massaged up and down your thighs, fingertips brushing the hem of your skirt.

“We can talk if you want…” You sighed under his touch. Namjoon hummed and leaned to begin kissing your neck, his hands continuing to knead your soft thighs.

“It’s fine” he murmured, “we have a lot to get to.” You wet your lips, mind running wild to what all the two of you would be getting up to. You were surprised you weren’t already on your knees for him, as that was how things usually began. What more could the two of you do other than blowing him or fucking? Namjoon’s hands found their way from your thighs and up your sides, stopping your chest and giving your breasts a light squeeze. “You remember the safeword?” You nodded with a hum, eager to see what he wanted to do with you. Namjoon didn’t waste any time in unbuttoning your shirt and discarding it, your bra went next and his hands were on your bare chest in no time. He groped you, his thumb rolling over your nipple a few times and you hummed a small moan when his mouth replaced them. You wrapped your arms around him and wracked your fingers through his hair.

You felt your professor’s teeth graze your shoulder as he turned away from your chest, placing little pecks up to your neck before leaving a hickey at the base of your neck. His hands found your thighs again, wasting no time in pushing under your skirt and pulling your panties down. His fingers dipped into your pussy, his thumb reaching to tease your clit. You squirmed and moaned under his movements, blushing as Namjoon’s gaze lifting to meet yours. A smile played on his lips as you squirmed under his stare. He didn’t tease you for long, didn’t even bother to say anything as he had you’re cumming around his fingers.

You took a moment to recover, a small pout coming to your face. You liked the pleasure but missed his usual teasing and degrading. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling it today? You reached for his belt, undoing it and moving to slip onto your knees, only to have him stop you. You were about to ask what was wrong or if he was done with you for the day, but he stopped you. “Wanna fuck you today” he murmured, turning your body and pushing you over his desk. After a few seconds of anticipation, you felt the head of his cock brush against you. One hand kept a tight grip on your hip as he pushed in, taking in the sight of your greedy hole stretching around and taking his dick. You sighed at the feeling and resisted the urge to push yourself back onto him as he seemed to be dragging the moment out. And when he completely stilled his movements you whined, tossing your head to look over your shoulder. “Hm?” He hummed, “something wrong?”

“Keep going” you pleaded. “Faster- harder.”

“Always so greedy” Namjoon faked annoyance, but the little grin never left his face. You moaned as he started thrusting again, this time at a much more satisfying pace. He gripped your hips roughly and held you in place as he fucked you. “Such a whore, only for your professor, right?” You nodded, yelping as his hand came down onto your ass. “Say it” he demanded.

“Only for you.” Your eyes squeezed shut as he kept the rough pace up and you’re relished in the sting left every time he smacked your ass. You were sure you’d be sore sitting in class tomorrow, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the pleasure building up in you and you almost tuned Namjoon and the rest of your surroundings out, but something brought you back. Your eyes snapped open as the door squeaked open, Had Namjoon forgotten to lock the door again? “N-Namjoon” You stuttered, there was no way the two of you could hide what was happening this time. Your eyes went wide as another man stepped in and you felt even more embarrassed as you made eye contact with him. “P-professor Min” you spoke, trying desperately to get Namjoon’s attention away from fucking the daylights out of you.

To your relief, Namjoon slowed down, “Yoongi, you’re late.”

“H-huh?” you looked back at your professor in confusion.

The door behind Yoongi closed and the lock clicked. “I got caught up.”

“What do you think Y/n?” Namjoon turned his attention back to you. “Want to let Professor Min join us today?” You gawked at Namjoon for a second, swallowing the dry lump in your throat. You knew of Min Yoongi but had never taken any of his classes. You vaguely remembered a friend of yours gush over how cute he was- and he was pretty handsome. Namjoon had been your first experience, so you had never really thought of the idea of a threesome, but...why not? You were already sleeping with your professor, why not just go all out at this point?

“Yes,” you breathed, despite being interested in trying it you couldn’t help the embarrassment seeping into you.

“Of course you do, such a slut.”

Before you knew it Namjoon was back to fucking you and Yoongi was standing in front of you. It seemed that Namjoon had already given Yoongi all the details, preferring to catch you by surprise. You didn’t mind though, admittedly the situation was pretty hot. Yoongi brushed the wisps of hair from your face as your hand pumped up and down his shaft. “Are you sure?” Yoongi asked quietly and you nodded with a small yes without much thought. He smirked, “Namjoon said you were eager, but I didn’t expect this much” he commented before pushing himself in your mouth. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before he was thrusting wildly into you with his fingers laced in your hair. You sputtered and choked out a moan as the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. Yoongi persisted though, eating up the gags and lewd noises you were making.

“Look at him when you suck him off” Namjoon ordered and you tried to hum an apology as you met Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi only gripped your hair tighter as he questioned how you could still look so innocent with his dick rammed into your throat.

“Fuck, you used to be such a good student, what happened?” Namjoon groaned as he fucked you. “Let yourself become such a slut so I’d help your grade?” Yoongi let go of your hair, only for Namjoon to grab it and yank you off of Yoongi. Your back arched as he pulled and Yoongi scoffed at the strings of spit poling at the corner of your mouth.

“You like being a mess?” He asked before grabbing your face and you squirmed under Namjoon as you felt your orgasm hit.

“I do” you moaned breathlessly as his fingers swiped to smear the saliva across your cheek.

“She’s always a drooling mess by the time we’re done.” Namjoon’s grip on your hips tightened as he came, spilling his cum inside you. You tried to steady your breathing as Namjoon pulled out. Your body rested on his desk and you squirmed tiredly at the feeling of his cum seeping from your pussy. You jumped at the feeling of one of them playing with you, rubbing your sensitive clit sloppily. You picked your head up to find Yoongi behind you now.

“Too much” you whined, tensing and squirming as Yoongi worked another orgasm out of you. Namjoon had taken Yoongi’s place in front of you, bushing your frazzled locks away and taking in your flushed face and tired eyes.

He pulled your head back, a bit more gentle this time. “Open” you let your mouth fall open without much of a thought, your eyes dropping closed as you feel him spit into your mouth. You didn’t have to be told to swallow and did so, letting Namjoon see that you had. Tears had already dripped down your face from Yoongi abusing your throat earlier, but fresh ones were beginning to bubble up as Yoongi seemed relentless in pushing you with more and more pleasure. When he finally stopped toying with you he turned you over so your back rested against the desk. “Gonna let Professor Min fuck you now?” Namjoon asked and you nodded, whining loudly as you felt Yoongi’s cock slid into you. Your tears fell as he began to thrust into you.

“Feels so good” you gasped.

“You let Namjoon fuck you to get your grade up, are you that stupid?” He spat, “what’s your excuse for fucking me?” Yoongi questioned, his stare hard as he watched your face twist and flush in pleasure. “Don’t have one? Just an empty-headed slut now?” You ate up his degrading words, it seemed that his voice could get you off just as well as Namjoon could. You peeked your eyes open to look back at Namjoon, who seemed to be enjoying the view of his colleague fucking you, and you had to admit that you were enjoying it just as much.

“Are you crying Y/n?” Namjoon laughed. You hadn’t even noticed the fresh tears re-staining your face as you came for the fourth time. You felt another glob of spit hit your face, running down your cheek with your tears. Yoongi was close behind you, cumming in you and pulling out halfway to let the rest hit your cunt. Yoongi remained between your legs for a moment, coming down from his high as he watched the cum drip down and out of you. Even after Yoongi stepped away to clean himself up you stayed there, trying to calm yourself down.

“Did we go too hard on her?” Yoongi finally asked, fixing his belt as Namjoon came to help you clean up.

“She’ll be fine” He smiled, “Come on Y/n, let’s clean you up.” You nodded before looking back at Yoong and thanking him for the fun. “I’ll take you for dinner after this, Yoongi can come too” Namjoon decided, “we can go back to my place afterward.” You smiled, eager to see what the three of you could possibly get up to later.

#bts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts reactions #bts smut #kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon smut #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #bts suga #bts rm x reader #bts rm #bts suga x reader

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

Hi! 👋 Two things! First, a fic request (again Ichimatsu whump because I'm sorry but I have to): Ichimatsu takes a hit meant for one of his brothers (be it accidental or on purpose) and is pretty badly injured. Cue the rest of the Matsu Bros. to the rescue!

And second, um...would you be okay with it if, let's just say hypothetically, I made fan art of some of these fics? 😺

FIRST OF ALL thank you for this because it's LITERALLY the longest thing I've written on this blog so far!! so I hope u enjoy it fully uwu

Matsu Bros plus a cameo by Mama Matsu!! <3

second... YESSSS THAT IS ALWAYS DEFINITELY OKAY!!! aaaaaaa you flatter me <3 <3 <3

When Ichimatsu first wakes up in the hospital, he doesn’t remember why he’s here. Hell, he barely even remembers who he is.

All he really knows initially is that he’s in a lot of pain. It hurts to breathe, his face is kind of numb in spots, and his leg feels weirdly positioned, plus heavy and uncomfortable. His shoulder feels kind of sore… as does his wrist.

There’s also some strange fog drifting around his mind that’s making it difficult to really focus on anything.

He feels a hand in his own. Not very tight… he thinks it’s someone giving just enough pressure to let him know they’re here. That he’s not alone. That’s comforting, he thinks.

Then he starts to remember things.

He was out walking with some of the others; Karamatsu and maybe Totty? What they were doing is a little fuzzy and isn’t coming to him instantly. He just recalls they were together, walking on the sidewalk. They came to a crosswalk and waited their turn. Karamatsu, as the eldest out of the three, stepped forward first to cross.

Ichimatsu thinks Karamatsu’s intention was that he would hold Totty’s hand to keep the youngest safe while they crossed, and Ichimatsu could follow after them. He doesn’t believe Totty had any objections.

They waited. They followed all the rules they were supposed to. The crosswalk light told them they were allowed to go.

It was someone else who broke the rules, tearing through a stop sign, the car headed right for his brothers. He… thinks he remembers Totty had only just come forward to grab Karamatsu’s hand, so he wasn’t quite there yet. Karamatsu was the one in the most danger.

He doesn’t remember much else. Running forward, pushing his baby brother behind him and yelling for his big brother to move.Then an impact. A lot of pain. Black and nothingness and warmth.

Now he’s awake. Putting the pieces together, he’s pretty sure he shoved Karamatsu forward and ended up getting hit by that car.

He thinks, in his haze, that the car should have hit Karamatsu, because he was the one who went first, because things happened so fast. But he’s glad it didn’t happen that way.

A couple groans catch the attention of whoever’s in the room, and he gets a squeeze to the hand. “Ichimatsu? Honey? Are you awake?”

“Mmh…” It hurts a little to move his head. He does it anyway, getting a glimpse of his mother. “… Mom…?”

It looks like she’s smiling… relieved, maybe. “Yes! Yes, my sweet boy, Mama is here.” She reaches her free hand over to gently stroke his hair. It feels nice. “Thank goodness. How do you feel?”

He closes his eyes. “I hurt.”

“Well, I should hope so! I’d be worried if you weren’t in a lot of pain right now. Do you remember what happened?”

Although he tries to move around, it’s difficult simply because it’s so painful. “Uh, yeah, kind of… I got… hit by a car, right? ― H… hey… Karamatsu and Totty… where are they? Are they okay?”

“Yes, dear, they’re both fine. Karamatsu has a couple of scrapes, but nothing serious. You, on the other hand, are lucky, young man. You’ve got a broken leg, a couple of broken ribs, and a broken wrist. You did have a dislocated shoulder, but they got that back into place. The doctor said it could have been much worse. She said you got off easy compared to some people who get hit by a car.”

She combs his bangs back in a way that mitigates any anger or frustration in her next words. “What were you thinking?”

“The car was coming for Karamatsu…” He frowns as the memory surfaces again, in slightly better detail. Damn. “… And Totty didn’t see it… he was gonna step out, too…”

Everything seemed to happen so fast. How the hell did he manage to get his older brother out of the way and keep his younger brother out of the way when everything happened so fast?

Matsuyo sighs and continues stroking his hair. “Oh, I know… they were both in tears when we all arrived. Totty was inconsolable… saying that Karamatsu would be dead if you hadn’t run forward and that he thought you were dead because you weren’t responding. I should be mad that you scared your brothers… but…”

She leans forward to kiss his forehead. “… You did a brave thing, Ichimatsu. Mama is very proud of you. I just don’t like any of you boys hurt… if you’re inclined to do this again, pull the other person back instead of taking their place. You silly boy,” she adds with an affectionate smile.

“Hah…” he laughs weakly, wincing at the pain in his chest. “Sorry, Mom. Everything hurts… I wanna go home.”

“Mhm, they’ll probably let you go pretty soon now that you’re awake. That’s the main thing they were waiting for, I think.” She moves her hand down to pat lightly at his forearm.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be home before you know it, and your family will take good care of you.”

Coming home is kind of weird.

Ichimatsu can’t really walk on his own. Since his leg is broken, the doctor gave him a crutch that he can use with his good hand, but it’s an awkward movement and leaves him feeling unbalanced. It’s just easier to lean on one of his brothers to walk ― in this case, Choromatsu has volunteered to help if Ichimatsu needs to walk somewhere. Though… he gets the feeling that the others would be more than happy to volunteer if the third eldest were somehow busy when he needs to get up.

Every motion, from sitting up to reaching for things to just breathing, is painful thanks to the broken ribs. There’s nothing that can really be done for those, so he’s evidently got to just suffer. He remembers the doctor saying they should feel quite a bit better in a couple of weeks. Most of this is going to take a month or more to fully heal, which is… according to Osomatsu, a ‘major boner-killer’.

Sitting around doing nothing but being in pain is going to be the end of Ichimatsu. He’s sure of that. He can’t go outside to feed the cats, and it’s difficult to cuddle with them inside with all his injuries. That alone is pretty depressing.

The pain medication they sent him home with is also a little frustrating. The first time he takes it, it makes him so tired he sleeps right through dinner.

He falls asleep on the couch in the spare room, he knows, because it’s where he has to be set up for now. There’s noway he can sleep in the futon with everyone else while he tries to heal; that runs the risk of running into someone, or having one of his brothers accidentally run into him.

His leg’s in a cast and his wrist is in a splint, to protect them as they fix themselves, but if those areas have someone roll onto them, it’ll probably result in more damage. Which means more pain and more time added to his recovery.

It’s apparently a bad idea to sleep on the couch. When he wakes up, everything is sore and screaming in pain. Justified, unfortunately, since he fell asleep in the same position he was relaxing in.

Someone else… is here? There’s something warm pressed up against his side.

He glances over to find that he’s evidently been resting on Karamatsu’s shoulder, likely for a while given that Karamatsu’s eyes are closed too. It looks dark out, and Ichimatsu’s foggy mind busies itself wondering what time it is.

There’s a soft chuckle beside him, and looking over reveals one of his big brother’s eyes is cracked open now. It’s swiftly followed by the other one, then the sudden absence of a pressure around his shoulder makes him aware that Karamatsu had an arm around him. “Awake, hm?”

“Yeah…” He tries to stretch, stopped short when a jolting pain in his chest reminds him that it’s definitely a bad idea. “Oww. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“That’s alright. You started to get a bit drowsy about half an hour after Osomatsu-nii-san gave you your medicine. We saved you a plate from dinner, though, if you want me to go warm it up.”

Ichimatsu blinks. “I slept through dinner?? Shit. How late is it right now?”

His brother shifts a bit more to take out his phone. “Hm… a bit after midnight.”

“Midnight?” Well, fuck. Although he can justify an hour nap or so, he’s just slept like six hours. He missed dinner, he missed going to the bathhouse, he missed maybe a game of cards before bed.

Karamatsu laughs again, his hand tousling Ichimatsu’s hair fondly. “That’s right, my brother. Don’t worry. Osomatsu-nii-san said fatigue is a side effect of your medicine, and your body needs sleep right now, anyway. So, are you hungry? Mommy made soba and yakitori for dinner, but if you’d rather have something else, just say the word. Your wish is my command!”

Honestly… he’s not really that hungry. He knows he should probably eat; his stomach is just trying to tell him not to have anything heavy. Another side effect of the medication, maybe. “Are you… sure? I kind of just feel like plain miso and rice. Other stuff doesn’t sound good.”

“Of course! I’d be delighted to go heat some up. You simply rest and I’ll…” When he goes to stand up, something catches Ichimatsu’s eye, and he grabs his brother’s hand, weakly, with his own injured one. It’s painful, but…

Karamatsu’s eyes focus on his younger brother, brows furrowing. “Ichimatsu? What’s the matter?”

It’s… that cut on Karamatsu’s face. Ichimatsu didn’t notice it before. Now that he’s a bit more alert, it’s practically all he can see. It’s not very big, maybe the length of one of their little fingers, and not deep. It looks like a scrape from falling off one’s bike or something. He thinks maybe it had a bandage on it at one point. The color has faded into something dull; the skin around is still bright pink, though, suggesting that it’s irritated despite not being cut.

His gaze shifts down to find similar wounds on Karamatsu’s hands. On the palms, where he probably got a sort of road rash when he tried to catch himself after Ichimatsu pushed him out of the way.

His own wrist protests with a violent throb as he reaches to let his fingers graze lightly over Karamatsu’s wrist. Image after image of what might have happened to him if Ichimatsu wasn’t fast enough comes unbidden into his head. Karamatsu could be the one with a broken leg or broken ribs, or it could have been worse.

“Y… you’re okay… right?” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, tears start spilling. All at once he’s pulled into a hug, loose fists resting against his back. He can’t stop himself from leaning in, pressing his face against Karamatsu’s shoulder.

He can feel the soft rumble of mirthless laughter his big brother gives. “You’re the one who was hurt, Ichimatsu. I’m only okay because of you. If you hadn’t seen… I wasn’t paying attention…”

The words, “It should have been me”, hang heavily in the air even though Karamatsu doesn’t say them.

He brushes a delicate kiss over the side of his little brother’s forehead. “Heh… you would have been a better big brother than me. You kept us all safe when I failed. You probably saved my life, you know. Thank you.”

Ichimatsu isn’t sure why it’s now that the full weight of everything has hit him. Now, when he’s home and out of danger, when everything is okay. Shouldn’t he have been falling apart when he first woke up in the hospital? It shouldn’t have taken seeing Karamatsu’s small injuries to remind him that they all could have died when he’s the one in a cast.

It’s hard to keep himself together, to keep his breathing normal so he doesn’t completely go to pieces. (Though, if he did, what better place to do so than in his older brother’s arms?) “… You’d do the same for me, right? So it’s only fair.”

“I would,” Karamatsu hums. “Without a second thought. You’re my little brother and I love you very much and if I could save you from being hurt, I would. I’m… sorry I was so careless that I couldn’t do it this time.”

Ichimatsu grunts, slipping his good arm around Karamatsu’s waist in an effort to be closer. “Don’t feel too bad. The next car’ll be yours.”

After eating as much as he feels like he can, Ichimatsu allows Karamatsu to help transfer him to the floor. It’s already set up with a spare futon, a blanket, and a pillow, probably because someone guessed that sleeping on the sofa wouldn’t be comfortable.

He’s still in so much pain. The shoulder that was reduced back into place aches like an old war wound, and his chest is sore even when he’s lying still. To say nothing of his wrist and his leg. His whole body feels like one giant bruise, except worse.

Although Karamatsu insists he’d be just fine to stand guard all night, after a few minutes Choromatsu comes in and sends him back to the bedroom. Ichimatsu doesn’t hear too much of the conversation ― mostly whispers that Karamatsu needs to go get some sleep, that Choromatsu is glad to take a turn.

Soon enough, though, Karamatsu relents and comes to tell Ichimatsu goodnight before he leaves the room. Ichimatsu gets one more kiss on the head and a reassuring squeeze to his good hand and exchanges another round of “I love you”s with his brother, then heads into the bedroom.

Choromatsu came prepared, setting his own pillow up on the couch and tossing a blanket at the end just in case he needs it. “So… how are you feeling, Ichimatsu?”

“Mm… like crap, kinda.” He looks over to where his brother is trying to get settled in. “I can’t believe I slept six hours and I’m still tired. What kind of shit did they put me on?”

“Hah… y-yeah, it’s the good stuff, probably. Is it at least helping the pain a little?”

“A little. Like Mom said before we left the hospital, I… guess it’d be more worrying if I wasn’t in pain right now. I did get hit by a car.”

Choromatsu leans forward and places a cautious hand on his little brother’s head. Once that earns him no punishment, he gingerly combs through Ichimatsu’s hair. It certainly feels relaxing. “You sure did. I… I can’t believe you kept both Karamatsu and Totty safe. Adrenaline’s a… a weird thing, huh? I’m glad you’re all okay. Hopefully the pain medicine will work better once you’ve had a few doses.”

“Mh. I hope so.”

“Yeah. For now, just, uh… just try to get some more sleep, okay? Your body needs a lot of rest while you’re healing.”

Yep, that’s what Karamatsu said, too. Two of his brothers saying the same thing can’t be wrong. … Well, they could be, but it would be weird. “I’ll try. Thanks for… being here. I dunno that I’d really want to sleep alone for the whole night. Guess Totty’s rubbing off on me.”

A low chuckle leaves Choromatsu as Ichimatsu closes his eyes. The sound of rustling suggests that his older brother has laid down and pulled a blanket over himself as well.

After a moment of quiet between them, Ichimatsu becomes keenly aware of a sensation that definitely isn’t going to allow him to sleep. “Uuuugh. Shit.”

“Huh?” Choromatsu is sitting up in an instant, ready to practically spring out of his skin. “What’s wrong, Ichimatsu?”

“― My leg itches.”

“O-oh. So… scratch it??”

He throws his head back in frustration. “No, the one with the Goddamn cast on it.”

“Ohhh. Okay, uh, well…” Choromatsu gets up and rummages through one of the drawers for a few seconds.

After that, a pencil is pressed into Ichimatsu’s good hand with a smile. “Here, try this. Stick the eraser end down in the little space between your leg and the cast, then keep moving it. If the itch is high enough up, it should help.”

Ichimatsu raises an eyebrow at the advice. Well. What’s he got to lose, after all? He spends a moment trying to get the itch scratched after slipping the pencil down, and finally he sighs in relief. “Fuck, that’s a lot better. How’d you know that was gonna work?”

Choromatsu grins self-consciously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Ah, well… remember when I broke my arm? When I went for my checkup, I had this itch inside the cast that was driving me nuts. So the nurse showed me this trick. It doesn’t always work, but…”

“Huh… well… thanks.” After everything, he’s just really tired and ready to sleep now. He would cross his fingers that nothing else disturbs him if he felt like moving at all.

“Heh, no problem. All good now?”

“I think so.” When he sees his brother straighten up to head back to the couch, his brain evidently thinks it’s good to say something. “H… hey. Choromatsu?”

Choromatsu looks back down, concern etched on his features. “Ah, yeah? What’s up?”

His heart is hammering so fast it feels like it’s trying to break more of his ribs. He doesn’t really want to embarrass himself. It’s just… he feels… “Can you… can you… stay for a minute? Down here?”

“Oh… yeah, sure. I can’t stay too long… I-I can’t sleep next to you. I might accidentally hurt you.” Even so, he lowers himself back down, sitting cross-legged and reaching to stroke Ichimatsu’s hair.

He nods. That’s part of the problem. Even though he normally wouldn’t have much complaint about being left to his own devices… he’s used to sleeping next to his brothers. Right on the end beside Karamatsu. When he’s not feeling well, being absent from them is apparently not doing him any favors. “I know. It’s just…”

His eyes drift closed once more. It must be the medicine making him feel out of it and way too honest. “… I think I’m gonna get lonely sleeping like this.”

“O-oh… gosh.” He can practically hear the frown in Choromatsu’s voice. The other man’s hand combs through his hair, a rhythmic and repetitive motion that makes him sleepy again. “I can probably… sleep like this, propped up against the couch. Is that okay?”

“Mmmh… I don’t want you to have to do that… you’ll make your back sore.”

He chuckles. “Ah, I-I think I can handle it. Even if that’s true, it’d be worth it to me so you don’t have to feel lonely. It’s the least I can do for my little brother.”

“I can’t stop you,” Ichimatsu mumbles. Sleep is scrabbling its tiny, strong fingers at him, trying to pull him down. It’s getting hard to resist. “If you want…”

“Yeah… yeah, I wanna do this for you.” Choromatsu leans down to press a small kiss to the top of Ichimatsu’s head. “Hey. Love you, Ichimacchan. Try to get some rest, okay?”

He doesn’t have to tell Ichimatsu twice. Within a minute of Choromatsu’s urging, he’s fallen back into a peaceful darkness.

When Ichimatsu wakes up the next morning, Choromatsu’s presence has been replaced by Jyushimatsu’s.

As much as he loves his immediate older brother, he doesn’t have any complaints. He and Jyushimatsu are very close, and his younger brother being here is pretty soothing to wake up to.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet, though that’s not to say he isn’t his usual energetic self. He appears to be flipping through baseball cards, maybe organizing them in his little album, humming to himself. There’s also one hand free to play with Ichimatsu’s hair, which he supposes is why he still feels relaxed.

“Hey, Jyushi.” His body reminds him why stretching is a bad idea right now, so he settles for arching his back a little in an effort to make something pop. Everything is sore. Even that little bit of movement hurts his ribs enough that he has trouble catching his breath for a minute. “Fuck… morning.”

“Oh! Yeah, it is morning!” Jyushimatsu is chipper as always, though when he leans in for a hug, he’s surprisingly gentle. “How’d you sleep, Ichimatsu-nii-san?”

“Okay, I guess. I still hurt a bunch.”

“Yeahhhh, you were crying in your sleep! But it’s okay! Because guess what? Jyushi is here!” He grins, nuzzling his cheek against Ichimatsu’s. It’s a bit weird, but par for the course as far as Jyushimatsu is concerned. Besides, the hug is nice after the fear of being lonely last night. “Did you have nightmares, huh?”

Now that he mentions it… yep. Ichimatsu’s dreams, or what he remembers of them, were filled with horrible things. The memory of being hit by the car, or the images of either Karamatsu or Totty being hit because he wasn’t fast enough.

He recalls one piece of a dream which involved looking into his own chest and seeing the end of a fractured rib shatter his glass heart.

A shudder runs through his body, prompting Jyushimatsu to tighten his grip just slightly. “Oh, you’re cold! It’s past breakfast, ‘cause you slept for a really long time, but I’ll go get you some tea!! Sound good?”

Given that his appetite hasn’t come back from war, that sounds better than anything else. Though he did manage to choke down that rice and miso last night, he’s not sure if he wants to eat even anything bland. “Yeah, sounds good. Put just a little bit of agave syrup in it for me?”

“Yeah! Anything for Ichimatsu-nii-san! Be right back, okay?”

With Jyushimatsu, ‘be right back’ is typically how it goes. He’s only gone for a few minutes, or at least it only seems like a few minutes.

Regardless, Ichimatsu has a cup of tea in his hand relatively quickly. Almost as if his brother predicted that it would be difficult to hold something very hot with only one hand, the tea is warm, not boiling hot.

It’s easier to balance it with one hand, plus this means it’s pretty much the perfect temperature to drink. As he starts to sip it, he feels Jyushimatsu’s hand, covered entirely by his sleeve, rubbing affectionately between his shoulder blades. “It’s good, huh?”

He swallows and gives the other a nod. “Yeah, pretty good. Thanks.” Thankfully, it should wake him up, too. He’s still feeling kind of groggy.

“Good!! Osomatsu-nii-san said he’s gonna give you your medicine in a minute, since I told him you were up and hurting.” Jyushimatsu shoves his binder of cards away, shifting up to sit on the sofa. “Do you want me to move you up here after you’re done drinking?”

“Probably, yeah. You got anything you wanna do today?” Another sip, and he sighs in relief feeling the warmth flow through him. Damn.He can’t believe he could take something as simple as a cup of tea in the morning for granted. “I can’t really help with baseball practice… but we could watch TV together or something.”

“Sure! We can watch whatever you want!” After only a few seconds, Jyushimatsu wiggles himself back down and leans against his big brother’s shoulder. “Hey, Ichimatsu-nii-san… I’m really glad you’re okay. Even though you’re hurt and everything, you’re home with us instead of… being not home with us!”

The least he can do is let his head rest gently against Jyushimatsu’s. “Yeah… I’m glad I’m home, too. Don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Jyushimatsu nods eagerly, making a brief, dull wave of pain wash through Ichimatsu. However, he’d rather have that pain than not have his little brother close. “We’ll take really good care of you! Just say if you need anything, okay? I’m really strong and I can get anything! … And if I can’t, Osomatsu-nii-san probably can!”

“Heh.” Ichimatsu takes another gulp of his tea. “You guys are the best.”

True to Jyushimatsu’s word, Osomatsu is in pretty soon to give Ichimatsu the painkillers. For whatever reason, even when he can’t be trusted with literally anything else, the eldest is pretty good at monitoring medicine when one of the others needs it.

All things being equal, Ichimatsu has a lot of faith in taking medicine when Osomatsu keeps track of it. He knows how much was dispensed, how many Ichimatsu is supposed to take and how often, how many are left, and all the related things. He’s like some kind of idiot savant who was put on Earth to be a pill counter.

After he takes it, he expects to start getting tired again, so he silently begs Osomatsu to stay on the couch with him. They’re all supposed to be hanging out anyway, based on what Jyushimatsu said, so right now he decides he wants to be close to his oldest brother for a little bit.

Osomatsu seems all too happy to oblige, snuggling Ichimatsu as close as he dares to. It’s probably not a good idea to use normal force, so the touches are… lighter than usual. It’s not so bad.

He settles in on Osomatsu’s shoulder, trying to get his eyes to focus on the show Jyushimatsu turned it to for him. It’s kind of unfortunate that he’s almost certainly going to fall asleep on it. “You guys are taking really good care of me,” he sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. “You want my allowance? Or, like… a bag of sardines?”

Osomatsu snorts. “What? You’re nuts, man. We’re taking care of you because we want to and because you need it. I mean, if I was sitting here with a broken leg, a broken wrist, broken ribs, and had to have my shoulder cherry popped back into place, wouldn’t you all be like, ‘Wow, maybe we should give the poor bastard a hand’? We’re just doing the same thing for you that we’d do for any one of us.”

Ichimatsu huffs. “Yeah, well… you’re all doing a lot. Karamatsu went in the kitchen past midnight to make me miso and rice, Choromatsu probably fucked up his back sleeping against the couch so I wouldn’t be lonely, Jyushi’s waiting on me, and you’ve got my medicine on a damn schedule or something.”

“Yeah, well,” Osomatsu grins, “I can’t leave it up to you, crackhead.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that. Even so, it’s not going to make him totally drop this. “I’m serious. You guys are…”

Osomatsu nudges him carefully. “We’re being brothers, you boner. I know we suck at showing it sometimes, but… you know we all love each other, right? I guess it’s easier to show it when one of us is sick or hurt. Just so happens you’re the hurt one right now. And also your ass is on painkillers, so everything seems weird to you.”

… Okay, so maybe he can’t fault that logic. Still, though.

They’re both quiet for a long moment while they watch the screen, then Osomatsu lets out a soft hum. “You did good, you know. I don’t like that you tried to get yourself killed, but you did good.”

“I wasn’t trying to get myself killed,” Ichimatsu retorts with the nastiest facial expression he can muster right now. “I didn’t wanna get hit, either. But Karamatsu and Totty weren’t paying attention… I didn’t want them to get hit. I was trying to get us all out of that way… I just wasn’t fast enough.”

Osomatsu scoffs before reaching his hand up to ruffle Ichimatsu’s hair. He appears to be getting a lot of pets like that lately, not that he’s complaining. It feels really good and is one of the biggest comforts he has right now. “You protected them, anyway. I can’t say too much, because you didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done if it were me.”

Ichimatsu offers a low, mocking wail. “Oh, shit. I’m turning into you. I think I’d rather be a cat. If I were a really bratty cat, you’d still be nice enough to feed me sardines and scratch behind my ears, right?”

“Uhhhh, I guess. You’re changing the subject, you dick.” A small puff of laughter makes his bangs move. “I just… wanna say I really respect you, man. Sometimes I remember the days when you would kick Karamatsu in the leg just for breathing the wrong way. And when you used to blow Totty off to hang with your friends in high school.”

He gets a shrug in response. “People change. We’ve all changed a lot.”

“Yeah, sure. I know.” His arm shifts down and he squeezes Ichimatsu’s good hand in that reassuring, proud way only an older sibling can. “They haven’t all been good changes. But seeing you trying to keep the others safe… that’s a a good change. Just gotta give you your props, Ichimacchan.”

He’s too tired to really argue with Osomatsu. Despite the fact that he knows he’s the shittiest of them all, he has to at least silently acknowledge that what he did prevented one of his older brothers and his baby brother from being in the same pain he’s in right now.

Instead of saying anything meaningful, he just presses himself in more against Osomatsu and mutters, “That’s nice. I’m tired.”

Osomatsu snorts and Ichimatsu feels a light kiss on top of his head. “Alright, dumbass, get some sleep. The pills are probably kicking in. Let me know if you need anything.”

Ichimatsu thinks that, right now, all he needs is his big brother to be the perfect pillow, and he’s doing a pretty good job of that.

Although it’s not dark at all the next time Ichimatsu wakes up, it’s significantly later than he meant to sleep. 3 P.M., meaning that once again he’s slept through a meal ― lunch, this time.

Just like last night, he finds that he’s not really all that hungry. Even so, it might be a good idea to eat, so probably he ask Osomatsu to get him something small.

When he shifts and looks over, though, Osomatsu isn’t there anymore. Instead, there’s Totty…

… Oh.

He’s holding onto Ichimatsu pretty tight. Ichimatsu isn’t sure he can move too much with the way Totty is holding him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Totty? Everything okay?”

His little brother stiffens, wide eyes suddenly turning up to look at him. Unlike what he noticed about Karamatsu, Totty doesn’t have any physical injuries, but… the skin around his eyes is red and puffy. “Y… yeah, it’s all good. Sorry, am I hurting you?”

“No… not really hurting.” He doesn’t remember having seen Totty too much after everything happened. He visited Ichimatsu in the hospital, all teary-eyed and not talking, before they were all allowed to take him home. Once he got home, though, he can’t recall Totty being around a lot even though everyone else was.

He assumed Totty was freaked out after everything and avoiding him just because he’s emotional right now. Seems Ichimatsu was right about that.

He maneuvers his good arm to put it around Totty’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Have you been crying? You sure you’re okay?”

Totty sniffles and dips his head down. “Yeah, sorry… I just…”

“Don’t be sorry, dumbass.” Even though it hurts a little to move so much, Ichimatsu cuddles his brother in against him. “It’s fine, you big crybaby. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I should be the one making sure you’re okay.” Regardless, Totty nestles in, tucking his head under Ichimatsu’s chin. It’s a bit of a weight on his hurt ribs, but it’s not that bad. “… H-hey. I, um. You know. I… I love you.”

Huh. It’s been a while since Totty has said that point-blank to any of his brothers, Ichimatsu thinks. It’s kind of nice to hear. He closes his eyes and offers an appreciative hum. “I love you, too. That it?”

Totty lets out a frustrated sigh, and Ichimatsu can just imagine the pout he has on his face. Kinda cute. He can’t really help himself; the youngest is always gonna be the baby, always gonna be adorable, even when he’s acting like a little bitch or if he wants to deny it. “I wanted to… say I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“For… everything! Y-you know, for almost getting hit and… I mean, you got hurt trying to protect me and Karamatsu! If I hadn’t tried to follow him without even looking… you wouldn’t have had to worry about me. And… and I haven’t been with you too much since you got home…”

He nuzzles his head against Ichimatsu’s collarbone, kneading his hand against the top of his brother’s good leg. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just… I’ve been… really upset. It was scary, seeing the car hit you…”

The hum Ichimatsu gives this time is lower, pensive and understanding. “Yeah. Mom said you were crying a lot when she got to the hospital. ‘S okay to be kinda freaked out, you know.”

“Yeah, I know… and I was… am.I was scared the whole time… Karamatsu tried to wake you up, but you were just lying there and you wouldn’t…” Totty sniffles and his hand curls into a weak fist against Ichimatsu’s knee. “I didn’t wanna lose you, Ichimatsu-nii-san, and I was really afraid you were gone. I’m happy you’re okay… I just… I-I was pretty sure I was gonna cry the first time I tried to take care of you, so I… wanted to be alone with you. Crying in front of all you guys is…”

Ichimatsu nods to quiet his brother, ghosting a kiss over the top of Totty’s head. “I get it. It’s okay, Totty. C’mere, okay… you don’t have to be sorry for being freaked out and not wanting to cry and all that shit. I’m sure Karamatsu’s freaked out, too. And everyone else. Don’t apologize for your feelings, stupid.”

An indignant huff is the response he gets, before Totty presses in against Ichimatsu’s uninjured shoulder. “It just makes me think a lot,” he finally confesses.

Ichimatsu smirks. “Right. And you’re so out of practice with thinking, it’s hard. I know.”

“Th-that’s not it, you jerk!” Totty whines and brings his arms in, curled against his chest. His knees come up onto the couch, folded under him, as he tries to get comfortable. “It makes me think… anything could happen, at any moment, and that… might be it.And I know we’re all shitty to each other a lot of the time, but… but I love all of you.”

He sniffles, snuggling against Ichimatsu when his big brother pulls him even closer. “The thought that one of us might… die… I-I didn’t… I didn’t know how afraid I was of that… till I thought it happened. If one of us wasn’t here… it… it wouldn’t be the same anymore.”

“… Yeah.” Ichimatsu gives Totty a squeeze that’s maybe a little tighter than necessary. It’s not like he can pretend that Totty is wrong. He’s right. Even though they’re all assholes and treat each other like crap sometimes, the last thing any of them want is for their family to be… incomplete.

They sit quietly for what feels like a long time, holding each other. Breathing. Just existing in sync, in perfect understanding for a while.

Sometimes, it’s true, Ichimatsu is kind of a death seeker. Sometimes he really does want to die. Sometimes he doesn’t care about anything, and just wants it all to end so he doesn’t have to deal with the weight of life anymore.

Sometimes, though… sometimes he fights death with all he has. He thinks maybe that’s what happened after he got hit by the car.

It would have been easy to die then. To just let his injuries swallow him up and put out his life like blowing out a candle.

He’s in a lot of pain right now, but he’s not dead. There must be a reason, right?

He thinks this is the reason.

Holding his youngest brother and realizing how broken his absence would leave his family, thinking about how broken it would be if anyof them were gone, how much they love each other…

… For once, he’s happy to be alive.

#Osomatsu san #whump #Ichimatsu #Allmatsu #Iromatsu #Nenchuumatsu #Suujimatsu #Parkamatsu #110matsu #car accident #broken bones #medication #caretaking #HEY LOOK AT THESE AWESOME BROTHERS BEING AWESOME #SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF.........#PLS ENJOY THE FOOD <3

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plaidbooks · 3 years

Note

Hey 🥰 could I request working with Sonny and you two used to date but broke up, you remained friends but never really got over each other and your end up going through a pretty bad time with work or personal stuff and you’re struggling mentally and not eating etc and when he realises he comes over to your place to check ur ok and you just breakdown and he tells u he still loves u and that it’ll always be u 🥺

Some Space

A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long! I was so burnt out of writing, but I'm here now! I hope that this makes up for the wait!

This takes place before Sonny joins SVU--and his timeline is a little wonky to make this fic work, but oh well.

Tags: death, shootings, blood, disassociation

Words: 2590

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31 @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell

“So, do you wanna move in together?” Sonny asked while you cuddled on his couch. You turned to look at him, and his face fell as he saw your expression. “…you don’t?”

You sighed. “It’s not like I don’t love you, Sonny, because I do. It’s just…I mean, we’re still in our mid-20s. I want a little more, uh, freedom before I settle down, you know?”

“I’ve known since we started dating in high school that I was in for the long term. I was thinking of maybe…I don’t know, getting married…having kids…. Now that we’ve settled into patrol, I thought it would be the perfect time to take the next step,” he muttered.

You sat in silence, debating. You loved Sonny, and you did want to marry him…someday. Not right now. You’ve barely lived any of your life; hell, you lived at home still. Sonny had his own apartment, but you didn’t want to go from living with your parents to living with him. You wanted space, time to figure out who you really were. And you didn’t think you could do that with Sonny. If he couldn’t give you your independence, if you both wanted different things, then you were going to have to break up with him, as much as it would break your heart to do it.

“Listen, Sonny, I need to live my own life for a little bit, discover myself. I-it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise—”

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked softly.

Hearing the words out loud made tears form in your eyes. “I…yes, I guess I am. At least until I find myself…. I’m so sorry, Sonny. I’ll always care about you. We can still be friends?”

“Y-yeah…okay, sure. I…yeah…” he trailed off, unwrapping his arms from around you. You both sat there awkwardly, and the tension was thick. You stood, moving to grab your jacket, and Sonny followed you to the front door.

“This isn’t…goodbye. I promise you, Sonny Carisi. It’s just—”

“See you later?” he finished.

You gave him a smile, and a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

*****************************

That was months ago now, and you had transferred out of Staten Island patrol, unable to see Sonny every day, those big, sad blue eyes trying to avoid your gaze. Now, you worked for Brooklyn, an officer in their Homicide department. You settled in quickly, and you found a cheap-ish apartment in Brooklyn.

It was nice living by yourself, and you highly enjoyed it. You missed Sonny dearly, but you thought it was too soon to reach out. Your heart still strained when you thought about the breakup, so you kept your distance. But it was getting easier and easier to let those feelings fade away in your new line of work. Brooklyn Homicide was a lot busier than Staten patrol, and you got along great with your partner, Drew Zimmer.

“We keep making these busts, and we’re gonna make detective in no time,” Drew said, grinning at you.

You smiled back as you shoved a cuffed perp in the backseat of your squad car. “Then we get paid halfway decently for doing much of the same as we are now.”

“Plus, normal clothes! Not this suffocating police uniform.”

You agreed, then moved to the front seat, Drew sliding in behind the steering wheel. You and Drew were close, but you never crossed a line. He was engaged to his high school sweetheart, something that made you slightly sad. Sonny was your high school sweetheart, and you wondered how different your life would’ve been if you moved in with him.

*************************

As Drew predicted, you both made detective later that year. You were officially the youngest detective, having moved up the ranks so quickly. You both went out for drinks to celebrate, and you had the wild impulse to invite Sonny. It had been almost a year since you broke up, and you could finally think about it without tearing up. But would he be okay with it? You fought the idea, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Everything okay?” Drew asked, seeing the look on your face.

You shot him a fake smile. “Fine, fine. Just…thinking. Don’t worry about it.”

He gave you a hard, knowing look, as if he could read your mind. You had told him about Sonny, but you didn’t want to bring the celebration down. Instead, you took your glass and cheers him before taking a sip.

You jumped when your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Your Captain’s name flashed across the screen, and you answered with a brisk voice. Drew watched and listened, then sighed when you said that you were both on your way.

“What do we got?” he asked, putting money on the table and standing.

You pulled your jacket on, heading for the door. “Body found in Prospect Heights. You okay to drive?”

“Sober as a fox.”

*************************

You both showed up quickly, seeing the officers who called in the body. Drew parked, and you made your way over. One of the officers started walking you both through the details when a gunshot rang out from down the alley that the body was in. Instinct took over as you hid behind a wall of the building, grabbing the closest officer to you and pulling them with you. Gunshots echoed in the alleyway as someone—or someones—unloaded on the entrance to the alley.

Drew was on the other side of the alleyway, and one of the officers was flat on their back, blood leaking from a bullet hole in their head. You ordered the officer next to you to call for backup, then waited until the gunfire stopped. Taking a chance, you snuck a quick peak. There were three individuals at the end of the alley, making their way quickly towards you.

You motioned to Drew, letting him know, before you reached your hand around the corner, firing blindly in an attempt to at least slow their advance. With the cover fire, Drew came halfway around the wall, actually aiming his gun as he fired.

“You got one of them,” he informed you. He got a few shots off before a bullet went through his neck, knocking him off his feet.

“Drew!” you screamed before whipping around the wall, shooting with deadly precision. There was only one man still standing—Drew must’ve got one before going down—and you shot him quickly. Then you dropped to your knees by Drew’s rasping form. You ripped off your jacket, pressing it to the bloody wound.

“Stay with me Drew, do you hear me? You have a fiancée to go home to,” you ordered, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Call a bus!” you yelled at the officer, who was staring in shock.

Drew reached up, grabbing your wrist. “T-tell Steph I—I love her…please,” he gasped, voice weak.

“You’re going to tell her yourself when you see her, okay?” you said, trying to smile at him.

He shook his head. “Tell her…please. I-I—” Drew let out a death rattle before laying still.

“No! No! Live, damn you! You can’t die on me, Drew! W-we’re partners!” you screamed. But he was gone. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you leaned over him.

Time meant nothing as you knelt there. You had no idea when the ambulance arrived, nor when your Captain showed up. You’re not sure who moved you away from Drew’s lifeless body, and you didn’t notice how you ended up at the hospital. You were still covered in Drew’s blood as the nurses ran tests, making sure you were uninjured. Your Captain ordered you to take time off, and you didn’t hear him, didn’t argue. You blinked and you were home, sitting on your couch, a bottle of whiskey in front of you.

***************************

IAB had been delayed by your Captain, but eventually, you had to face them. You couldn’t recall what they asked, or what you answered. The first emotion you felt in days was fleeting anger; the body that you had been called to investigate was left as bait. The men who shot at you, who killed your partner and an officer, were part of a gang, attempting to become cop killers. It was all a ruse to kill whichever cops arrived on the scene. Drew, one of the nicest, most genuine people you’ve known, was killed for street cred. But your anger soon disappeared, just like everything else.

***************************

It had been a week since Drew died in your arms. You visited his fiancée—she had already been informed of her love’s death—but you had to see her, pass on his final words. You held her as she cried, but you had no tears left. You felt nothing; you were just a shell. You stopped eating, stopped showering, stopped drinking, even water. You stopped sleeping; you just passed out nowadays, at any and all times of the day, wherever you happened to be laying. Your Captain called you a few times, trying to get you into therapy, but you never left your apartment.

One night, there was a knock on your door. You moved on phantom feet, unlocking and pulling your door open. You felt a dull punch to the gut as Sonny stood on your doorstep.

“H-hey doll…. I heard about your partner, and I thought I’d check up on you,” he said softly.

You nodded, not even attempting to fake a smile. “I’m fine,” you said in a monotone voice, ready to close the door on him. But Sonny was quicker.

“No, you’re not.” And with that, he pushed into your home. “When was the last time you’ve eaten? Washed? Brushed your teeth? Anything?”

You had no answer for him, and he quickly went to your kitchen, pulling open your fridge. Normally, you’d follow him, but instead, you went and collapsed on your couch, your legs unable to hold you up anymore.

Sonny came out with a glass of water. “Drink that,” he ordered, then stood there until you did. “Most of your food has gone bad; I’m going to run to the store. While I’m gone, I want you to shower, okay?”

You didn’t nod, made no indication that you had heard him. He ran a hand through his hair, hating seeing you like this.

“Okay…if you can shower, please do. Otherwise, just at least…drink another glass of water, okay?” He took the glass from your hand, refilled it, then came back and handed it to you. “I’ll be right back.”

You were unsure for how long he was gone; you dimly heard him come back. Sonny went to your kitchen with full grocery bags, and soon, the sounds and smells of cooking emanated from within. He came out soon after—or maybe it was longer, who knows?—with a plate of food.

When he noticed the full glass of water in your hand still, he shook his head, then sat next to you. You didn’t fight him as he fed you small bites, nor as he raised the glass of water to your lips. You tasted nothing as you ate half the plate. Sonny was afraid to make you sick with too much food at once, so he put the rest back in the kitchen. Then, he pulled you to the bathroom. He undressed you, then himself, before guiding you into the shower. The hot water brought you partly to your senses, just enough to feel Sonny’s hands washing your hair and body.

“You may have to get your hair cut short—it’s pretty damaged from lack of care,” he muttered, trying to work the knots out with his fingers. You nodded gently, letting him care for you. Once done, he wrapped you in a towel, patting you dry. Then, he took your toothbrush and put paste on it before handing it to you, lifting your hand to your mouth.

“Brush,” he softly ordered, and you did.

After finishing up in the bathroom, Sonny tugged you to your room, where he dressed you in your pajamas. Then he pushed you down into the bed.

“Sleep, okay? I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.

You laid on the pillow, and fresh tears came to your eyes. “He died in my arms,” you muttered.

Sonny’s expression softened. “I heard, doll. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Just rest now.”

As promised, he sat next to you until you drifted off, your hand in his.

*******************************

Sonny practically moved in with you after that, just until you could take care of yourself. He took you to a therapist, and a hair salon. He made you meals and made sure you drank water. At first, he would shower with you and made sure you brushed your teeth; those were the two things you started doing yourself the quickest. It took you a few weeks to break out of the shock-induced disassociation you were experiencing. Eventually, you started helping Sonny cook in your kitchen, and doing small chores around your apartment.

“Thank you, Sonny, for everything,” you said one night while you were eating dinner.

He smiled at you. “Of course, doll. I care about you.”

“I care about you, too. I—I should’ve called you earlier. I was just afraid that it was too soon.”

His smile faltered slightly. “I understand. I…it’s probably still too soon….”

“What do you mean?”

Sonny put his fork down, looking everywhere but at you. “Look, I’ve…I thought that enough time had passed, especially when I heard about your partner—” you flinched at the mention of Drew— “but when you opened the door and I saw how much it affected you, I realized that…I still love you, have always loved you. You were literally wasting away, and I couldn’t stand by and watch.”

You froze, not in shock at him, but at yourself. Because hearing the words out loud, you knew that you loved him, too.

“I’m sorry; you don’t need this right now. The last thing you need on your mind is—”

“I love you, too, Sonny. God, I love you so much,” you replied, throwing your arms around him, and leaning against his side.

He hesitated a moment before he wrapped an arm around your back. “Are ya sure? You’re going through some pretty traumatic stuff right now. Your emotions going a little haywire.”

“I’m sure. I-I was afraid to call you because I couldn’t handle seeing you. Because I never got over you.”

Sonny nodded. “I never got over you, either. Look, if you still want your space, I can live with that, as long as I don’t lose you again. I never want to lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either. I love you; I want to marry you one day. Let’s just…see how it goes, okay? I’ve learned a lot just in the year we’ve been apart—”

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips soft against yours. He felt so familiar, so much like home, and you realized how much you had really missed him. You kissed him back, holding him to you. He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing over yours.

“We’ll figure out the details later. Right now, I just want to get to know you again,” he breathed.

You nodded. “Please, yes. I want to remember you, Dominick.”

He pulled you closer, promising his whole self to you in a searing kiss.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfics #fanfic #my writing

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kurosukii · 3 years

Note

Jul he was def written by a Horny watt pad user cause the shit he would say to me and the stunts he would pull were things I had never imagined

yes he does have some dentist friends if anyone is interested but they’re not dilfs sadly:(

he Did brazy stuff like that all the time completely uncalled for his son would stay with his sister because he felt he needed more of an authority female presence in his sons life so when his son was gone for a weekend we would go crazy. I don’t think there is a surface or area in his home outside of his sons room that we didn’t do something nasty on

on top of his insane breeding kink this man had the libido and stamina to keep up w freshly dirty me who had a million scenarios in my head after he unlocked that side i didn’t know existed

but funny story of how I met his sister and to this day when I see her I get embarrassed

so he had told her abt me obvI but she didn’t know abt the age difference just that he had met someone who worked at a grocery store he frequented and we were going on dates. so flash foreward his son is out the house (also this was b4 we were comfy enough to try n fuck in his place of business the timeline of events will never make sense)

We were cuddling and watching a movie in the living room and I started to get h word and im telling u this man never wore an outfit that wouldn’t provoke me to take his pants off so ofc he was shirtless and wearing light grey sweatpants material shorts… yk whats gonna happen were halfway thru an episode of a show and I lay my head in his lap n I’m just nuzzling against his dick bcs I’m a shy bitch who didn’t want to directly ask for it

n eventually he pauses the show n is like “is there something you want?“ n I look up at him w pls fuck me eyes so he moves me to be sitting on his lap but more so straddling his thigh, at this point he can’t hide his semi n just starts kissing me w the most passion

at this point in our relationship I was focusing on learning how to suck his dick, which was a struggle for me w breathing but I loved doing it, i start kissing his neck and grinding against him and he goes to put his hand in my pants n i shuffle back a little he goes “don’t be shy now you already started something”

i just blurt out “can you fuck my mouth” BITCH(if ur okay w me calling you bitch) if someone could have literal hearts in their eyes he had them, that look is still stuck in my memory like it’s priceless art

somehow I can’t remember the sequence of events but I’m on my knees in front of the couch and he let me start off on my own just to see how far I could go, as I said he is vv thick so it usually cause some pain in the corners of my lips but I keep going and he rested his hand on the back of my head “you’re doing so well bunny” (again w the side notes he called me bunny so much his son thought it was my name for a solid two weeks) he got the nickname from that hot freaks song, anyways started pushing my head down just a little until I was nose to his pelvis gagging all over him and he just starts laughing, so ofc i pull off and get pouty so he apologizes for laughing staring “it’s just cute seeing you struggle“

so we start back n atp he is standing up fully naked I’m also Fully naked just hips a thrusting the most lewd noises coming front my throat as he breaks my fuckin uvula and he like I said is very vocal so u can only imagine the noises this man was saying

at this point I start struggling to breathe I’m tearing up and he is being so cocky abt it and asking so many questions knowing i can’t answer

again dialogue

*SPIT COATED BALLS SLAPPING MY FACE NOISES*

“you like being on your knees for me huh?” “I think you look extra good like this, just want me to fuck your mouth till u can’t speak”

“mmhm or would you like it better if I made you scream till you lost your voice”

and as he got closer

“that’s right just take it“

“doing so good baby throats so tight(started rubbing the column of my throat) can you feel me all the way down there“

now at this point I’m a literal mess

and we hear his front door slam and immediately both ducked down on the floor and his sister comes in saying his name Bcs where the fuck r u at ur cars here

and we both look at eachother w the “oh shit, oh fuck” look so he just gets up on the couch and peeks his head over and she’s standing between the living room and hallway and is like ??? Look on her face and he just starts shouting “don’t come over here I’m fully naked give me a minute please“ and doubles over laughing and I could hear her yell to the kids “go play outside for a minute“

she walks out of view and we sprint to his bedroom and I’m so embarrassed at this point we get dressed in a flash and I’m destroyed and he just doesn’t tell me makeup smeared my lip clearly look like I’ve been sucking dick and he just walks us out and introduces me to her, she didn’t say anything out the way but I knew she knew Bcs the look she gave me when she first saw me

its sad this isnt top 10 embarrassing things to happen to me

also sorry this is so long I send these as I remember the moments -🐶

yooooo this story was an entire rollercoaster ,,,, all i can say is holy shit 🧿_🧿

#MAN i had to read this a lot to comprehend everything ....#ALL I CAN SAY IS THAT YOU’RE Y/N #DAS IT #LAWDDDDDDD #🐶.anon #✨.jul answers #tw dilf #tw degradation #tw face fucking

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shanedawsonsfanfics · 3 years

Text

Byakuya Togami x Fem!Reader Nsfw

Content Includes; nsfw, degrading, afab reader, drugging, noncon, Byakuya Togami

Early this morning as you got ready to head to the cafeteria to meet the others, you noticed a piece of neatly folded paper in front of your door. A note someone must have slid through from the other side.

You pick it up and examine its contents.

In fancy writing, it read "I require assistance in the office, We will meet promptly after the morning announcement. I advise you be discreet"

Very blunt and to the point. Although there was no name, you knew exactly who called for you.

But why would Togami, as brilliant as he is, need help from you?

Your mind begins to rack up what could possibly be his intention. To kill you?

If so, the others would obviously know as you both would be the ones missing from the cafeteria. You knew the Ultimate Affluent Progeny was not that ignorant. Perhaps he truly needed your help, given his straightforward attitude.

You decided you would go, but would be sure to take caution. It must be something important, maybe he knew a way to escape.

You made your way through the dorm hall and spot Kyoko. She was leaning on the edge of the wall, seemingly lost in thought.. You acknowledged her intelligence and her great support during the class trials. Telling her about your whereabouts would ensure that if something were to happen, she would easily solve the trial.

"Hey Kyoko!" You wave. She responds with nothing but a glance to you, her expression like stone.

"I just wanted to let you know ill be absent during the daily meeting in the cafeteria… Togami seems to need my help…"

You give her grave look and her bright purple irises bore into yours. Her expression changed and showed subtle hints of worry.

The air grows cold and silent. She finally nods in understanding. "I will be sure to remember" Is all she says.

Nobody else greeted you on your way to the office. You twist open the door and was greeted by the cool dust filled atmosphere. It smelt of old wood and parchment.

Byakuya was sitting in the desk, a letter in his hand. He showed no reaction to your presence. You cleared your throat

"H-hey I got your note…"

Silence.

A slight squeak of his chair filled the room as he sat up straight in the chair, still reading the letter. "Come here" he says.. and you obliged, standing to his side, squinting to read the paper.

You were very close to him, and the smell of cologne and clean fabric filled your nose. You felt a little light headed, being so close to him. "This handwriting is absolutely atrocious, perhaps a commoner as yourself would have more luck understanding these childish scribbles"

You ignore his backhanded compliment and eye the letter. Instantly recognizing the handwriting as undeniably your own. Your heart sinks as every word written processed in your head.

When did you write this? This was surely your handwriting, but the words… Your face felt hot all of a sudden and your legs wobbled…

Byakuya notices your eyes skimming the paper and he raises his voice in annoyance "read it aloud"

You shake your head no… there was no way you could… You slowly move away from him until he grabs you by the hem of your skirt.

"Read it now"

He roughly pulls you even closer than before to him. Now holding you by the waist he snuck a leg between your own, locking you in place and ensuring you couldn't walk away. His grip was firm as you struggled to be free.

"It appears you have no other options now, I suggest you stop writhing like a filthy pig and begin"

He spoke with poison and his nails dragged into your skin through your clothes.

Your heart pounded, in fear, shame, and embarrassment.

"My s-stomach gets full of butterflies when I see to-togami around school"

You could see Togami smirk in the corner of your eye "wig! such a scandal" he says.

You gulp.. his skin dug deeper into your sides. He picks up where u left off

"I wonder what Togami thinks about, what does he jack off to?" He says in a sarcastic voice. "I wonder how he would react if I told him all the fowl thoughts that consume my mind when he is near"

Your face flushes and with a sudden burst of energy u begin to squirm again. Successfully breaking free you get up and scurry to the door. Togami grabs the back of your collared shirt and throws u against the desk before you can make it. "You are so irritating" he says as he pushes his weight on top of you, making you almost completely immobile besides your writhing arms on either side of his body. Your stomach and heart began to swell full of butterflies just like in the letter. He pulls you in for a deep, forceful kiss. "TEA" Togami says angrily. You refused to reciprocate. Togami suddenly bit down on your lip with a force that made tears pick in the corners of your eyes. As the stinging of your lip clouded you're mind you felt Togami pull away. "Your breathe is disgusting. SAME!!!"

He clicks his tongue.

Your mind begins to draw blank and you feel quite dizzy.

You close your eyes, attempting to relieve this sickening feeling. As you open them you can't help but feel like something is off…

Everything felt hazy, and confusing.

"Hello sister??? U still there? We haven't even gotten to the fun part ;("

Shane says looking down at you as his body is practically touching yours. You can feel his sweat make its way through his shirt and into the cloth of yours. A giant wet spot right between your chest.

"You look so nice kitten *Clicks tongue*

He says in a playful tone.

"I cant wait to cum all over you"

Shane begins to unbutton your shirt. His big, sweaty hands reaching for the newly revealed skin. Making sure to moisten every part of your body with the vast amount of sweat he creates. Seriously…. Whats his problem? You try to speak, to scream. But nothing comes out. Your throat clenches on its words and your mouth was desert dry.

"T-togami?" You say hoarsely in confusion.. you felt all your energy drain from saying his name. Togami… where did he go? As much as you pretended to hate what was happening, you truly wished he would embrace you with intimacy.

What was happening.. who is this man?

Where did Togami go?

"Aw I guess the drugs have'nt worn off yet isn't that tea. Idk who this 'Toe-gamee' guy is but you got someone better! Hey whats up! Yes! I'm shane dawson!"

He says beginning to unpants you. Your mind was barely processing any of this. You tried to fight him off of you but it seemed as though your body was made of jello… You could not move at all. You felt so powerless under this man's grasp. He seemed terrifying, he wreaked of stench, and his touches against your skin felt like knives.

Tears dropped down your face as you felt him drag his hand from your now bare chest to your abdomen. "This is where I'm gonna cum later ;)" he says… his hand left a visible grease trail on your body. You close your eyes as hard as you can. Please let this stop… please togami save me…

Togami would not be coming for you. Nobody would… you'd remain locked up in shane dawson's recording room forever being his kitten. And to set the record straight he very much did cum on his precious cat. Many times.. and you hated every moment of it.

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x you #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x y/n #thh x reader #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #mod shane dawson

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fading-lace · 4 years

Text

Denki Headcannons because im extremely bored and have nothing else to do :D

[Denki X female!reader]

Warnings: cursing, because i do that...sorry...fluff!!!!

summary: literally just headcannons of you and your relationship with pikachu-

ok ok ok ok ok ok okok okfweo

so this boy.

this

cute

pikachu

boi

is literally your No. 1 fan.

kid you not he is

once he saw you walk in through that big ass classroom door, he fell and fell H A R D

he would constantly try to get your attention and try to show off whenever he can

whenever you guys are walking in the halls he would casually walk up to you and say horrible pick-up lines

if you like manga or anime (witch in 99% sure you do otherwise i dont think you would be here-) he would purposely go for anime pick-up lines, thinking it would be easier to lure you in

“hey (L/N)~ i dont need to use Byakugan to see inside your heart~”

just walk away, it would be better if you just walked away-

“are you gaara? because love is written all over your face~”

just wal-

“are you Haikyuu? because i like you~”

“hey (L/N)!! watch this!!” he yells at you before he uses the entirety of his quirk and literally goes stupid

but none the less, you think his desperate tries are adorable and purposely keep turning him down so then you can see more of this dork in action. (bruh wtf just tell him you like him)

this kept going on and on for about five weeks before one pick-up line ruined it all. or so you thought.

“hey (L/N)!! are you All might? because i’d like for you to Texas smash me~”

i told you to walk away, but did you listen? no.

you just stood there, your face redder than and darker than blood.

Kaminari looked at you and immediately became insecure

. you laughed a few seconds later, utterly confusing the yellow boy.

“w-why are you l-laughing?”

“because silly! i’ve liked you all along!! your just so oblivious that you couldn’t even tell!”

just then that small brain of his realized you were playing hard to get.

a few days later you officially started dating. finally-

istg take him from the beginning and times that by like...10

more pick-up lines

tries to show off more

and just being....Denki

but turns out, he is actually really caring

he drinks his respect women juice guys, ok? he is good boy, must protect..

aNywAyS...

when you guys finally moved into dorms, he was s u p e r exited because he could sneak to your dorm and cuddle with you all night

one time you fell asleep doing homework and woke up in your bed with a sleeping kaminari being the big spoon

he likes to cuddle, ok?

whenever you guys are training, he will glance over at you every now and then to make sure you are ok and not getting hurt

he occasionally will shout out..”YEA THATS MY GIRL!!! WORK THOSE MUSCLES OF YOURS!!” or “COME ON YOU GOT THIS!!” and just words of encouragement

your guy’s first kiss was on accident-

you were standing behind him and he turned around from grabbing something and tripped on his shoelace...and...well..you know-

he likes to spoil you-

every so often he will take you out on dates to the mall, or the park, or even the beach!

he just loves seeing you smile

even tho him and mineta are like, brothers...he still tries to keep the grapist F A R away from you

he wont let that shriveled up pervy grape touch you, even in they are friends

your first i love you wasn’t really special, he just accidentally said it while saying bye to you

“ok!! bye (Y/N)!! love you-”

“...!!”

you looked at him, both of your faces covered with a light blush

“i love you too, see you later” you smiled back

he grinned brightly and walked off to whatever he was doing

once you guys graduated, you moved in together, in a actual apartment, you know...like grownups?

and it wasn’t very long before he popped the question

it was a late summer evening, the sun was setting and the weather was perfect

Denki randomly told you to meet him at U.A over the weekend, alone and in nice looking clothing.

you shrugged it off and put on a nice dress and drove over to U.A

you parked your car and walked into the building, only to see some of the old staff members there, waiting for you

“nice to see you again (Y/N) please head over to class....1-A” Aizawa said giving you a small smile

you did what you were told, slightly confused.

walking down the hallways of the school brought back so many memories

like when you guys did the concert

or when iida had to stand on top of the exit sign because the whole school thought there was a intruder

so many great memories were taken in this school

you finally reached the door and opened it to see Denki, on one knee, and a ring in his hand

you blushes and brought your hands to cover your mouth, tears forming in your eyes

“(Y/N) (L/N)....” he smirked

“are you Suzue Kambe? because i Kambe your husband~”

you giggled and cupped Denki’s cheeks before kissing him right on the lips.

“yes, you Kambe my husband, you dork”

this made him smile as he stood up and places the ring on your finger before lifting you up and spinning around laughing

“she said yes!!! hahaha!!!! im the happiest man alive!!!”

you laughed with him, happy to know you were gonna marry the love of your life...

#denki headcanons #denki x y/n #denki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #x reader #headcanon #fluff #anime #manga

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spooderboyandtincan · 4 years

Text

Please Don’t Kill Flash

TW: Mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, violence

~~~~~

Peter pulled out his phone.

SpiderChild: HAPPYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Where r u????

Happy responded three minutes later. (record timing)

aSpunkyUncle: Sorry kid. Traffic is bad. I’ll be there in a while.

Peter sighed. Happy was often late. He didn’t mind, really, but he was starving.

Tony had been dragged to a meeting by Pepper, and couldn’t escape for at least another two hours.

He wanted to talk to Tony. His spider-sense had been buzzing in the back of his mind. He could barely focus on his classes. Whenever he hugged Tony, though, the humming would disappear.

He was always safe with Mr. Stark.

“Hey, Penis!”

Peter suppressed a groan.

Flash bounded up to him, elbowing him in the ribs. Before the spider-bite, that would have left a bruise.

“What do you want, Flash?”

“What, can’t I talk to my buddy?” he said, slinging a heavy arm around Peter’s small shoulders. “C’mon, Penis, don’t be a spoilsport!”

“Leave me alone,” Peter muttered, shaking off the arm.

Flash slapped his back. “In a bad mood, are we, Parker? Well, I’d try to cheer you up, but…” he shoved Peter forward. “This is much more fun!”

He let Flash drag him and shove him against the wall, slamming his head on the bricks. “Listen, Penis,” he snarled, “you’re gonna pay for what you did!”

“Which is what, exactly?” Peter snorted, unfazed.

“Decathlon practice, remember? You embarrassed me in front of the whole class, even though I’m smarter than you, Parker!”

Peter tried not to roll his eyes. “Okay, Flash, sorry. Sorry for knowing something you didn’t. Sorry for trying to help you out.”

“I don’t need help!” Flash raised a fist. “I told you, Penis, I’m smarter than you!”

“Flash, that’s-” Peter winced. A hot pain pierced through his head.

Danger.

“Flash! Get down, get away-!” he tried to shout.

Until the muzzle of a gun was pressed to his temple.

He froze. Flash stared at him with wide eyes.

Peter knew he could get out of this. In just a few seconds.

But no way would he risk Flash’s safety.

“Okay, dude, okay,” he said, raising his hands slowly. “You can chill with the gun. I’m not gonna run.”

He just had time to think, Hey, that rhymes.

Then the gun slammed into his forehead, there was a shout from Flash, and everything went dark.

~~~~~

“Parker!” Flash whispered. “Parker! Wake up!”

Peter remained still, his head against his chest, his arms bound with thick rope behind him.

Flash groaned, tears in his eyes.

He’d been kidnapped.

He’d been fucking kidnapped.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Whoever you are, you’re gonna pay for this! My parents will kill you!”

That was unlikely. They probably wouldn’t notice he was gone.

Peter blinked, his head throbbing. “Flash?”

“Parker! You’re alive!”

“‘Course. You okay?” Peter tried to clear his head.

“I’m good. I guess. What do we do?”

Peter lifted his head. “We wait.”

“We just wait? Do you think they’re ransoming us?”

“They are, I think. We’ll see when they come in.”

Flash stared at him. He was so calm.

“Why would they ransom us?! What do we do, Parker?!”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “They were looking for me, you were just there.” He looked sadly at Flash. “Don’t worry, though. We’ll be fine.”

You can’t promise that, Flash thought. “Why the hell would they kidnap you? You’re poor, you have, like, no money!”

Peter raised his eyebrows. Flash really didn’t know that Tony Stark had basically adopted him?

Flash watched as Peter flinched violently. “Parker?”

“Flash, don’t move, stay still. Don’t talk. They��re coming,” Peter muttered.

The metal door swung open.

Three people walked in, all dressed in red, wearing white theater masks over their faces.

“Look what we have here,” the woman purred, stepping in front of Peter. She tilted his chin up with her sharp nails. He glared. “Stark’s precious son? You’ll bring us a lot, honey.”

“But who is this?” she asked, gazing at the cowering Flash. “An extra?”

“He was there too, miss,” an older man said. “We didn’t want a witness.”

“I see. We can dispose of him later.”

Flash gasped. “No! Please don’t hurt me! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” the woman pondered, rolling the word in her mouth. “Anything at all?”

“Yes, anything! Please!”

Peter motioned frantically for Flash to stop talking. He could tell the woman was just toying with her prey. She had no intention of letting him live.

“Hey! You said you wanna ransom me?” he said loudly. “Well Flash here, he’s worth a lot! You don’t know it, but he comes from a pretty wealthy family! They’ll pay you to get him back!”

Peter wasn’t good at telling lies, but this one couldn’t be denied. Flash did come from a wealthy family. But he doubted they would pay ransom for him.

“Will they?” she asked. “I doubt it. You can tell this little brat doesn’t appreciate his parents much. So I doubt they appreciate him.”

Flash turned pale, staring wildly between Peter and the woman.

“Harold? Hand me my gun, won’t you?”

Peter stiffened, testing the ropes.

No, he couldn’t let this happen.

The safety clicked off.

He broke the ropes apart.

The bullet fired.

Peter jumped.

~~~~~

Flash screamed, eyes clenched, waiting for the pain.

It never came.

He heard a curse from the woman, and rapid footsteps leaving the room.

He blinked.

Peter lay in a puddle of blood, panting.

“Parker! What the hell?!”

Flash knelt by his side. “What do I do?! Parker?! Hey! What the hell should I do?!”

Peter groaned. “Press on the wound. ‘S okay. I’ll be fine.”

Flash pulled off his sweatshirt and nervously pressed down on the bullet hole.

Peter fumbled with his watch. He pressed a small button, nearly invisible, three times.

“What’s that?” Flash asked.

“‘S for… ‘mergencies. Only,” Peter slurred. He blinked slowly.

“Hey, no! Parker, you gotta stay awake!” He slapped Peter’s cheek.

Peter whimpered. “Misser Stark?”

“What? No! I’m Flash!”

“Oh. Where… where ‘s M’sser St’rk?”

“Who the hell is that?! Why would I know?”

“Mmm.”

Peter’s breathing slowed, irregular, uneven.

“No, no, Parker, stay awake!” Flash cried.

Peter lifted his watch to his face. He pressed a finger to it, the screen turning red, the clasp undone. “Call him. M’ss’r… Tony. Dad.”

Flash took the watch, fumbling around until he found the contact button. There were three on speed dial, labeled IrondadMan, AuntMay, and Doctor Cho.

“Who should I call?”

“Firs’ one. Dad.”

Dad? Peter was an orphan. He only had May, as far as Flash knew.

He pressed the icon. Halfway through the first ring, it picked up.

“Peter?! Peter, are you okay?! I’m coming, baby, hold on!” The voice was deep, panicked, rushed. Flash could hear heavy, scared breathing.

“H-hello? Uh- who is this?” he asked.

Peter smiled wearily when he heard the voice.

“Who the fuck are you?! Where’s Peter?!” the voice snarled.

“Uh- he’s here, sir! He- he told me to call you! He got shot, I don’t- I…”

“He got shot?! Is he awake?! Talking?” the voice sounded even more terrified.

“H-he’s awake. There’s a lot of blood. He needs help, sir!”

“Oh god,” the voice whispered, horrified. “Keep him awake, hear? Do not let him fall asleep!”

Flash turned to Peter, slapping his cheek. His eyes drifted lazily to his.

Peter opened his mouth, trying to choke out a word.

Instead, all that came out was blood.

Flash gasped and dropped the watch. Peter coughed and choked, blood dribbling down his chin.

Flash could hear shouting from the watch. But Peter’s eyes had closed.

“No! Parker!”

~~~~~

It seemed like only minutes had passed.

Flash kept his hand on Peter’s wrist, where his pulse beat unsteadily.

“Please don’t die, Peter. Please.”

He blinked back a tear.

And then the entire building shook.

Concrete crumbled from the walls, gunshots sounded, people shouted.

There was a tremendous roar that shook the foundations. It sounded like the Hulk.

No way.

Flash’s eyes widened as the heavy metal door flew open and landed with a crash.

Iron Man

The Iron Man

This was possibly the worst and best day of his life.

The faceplate lifted, and Tony Stark himself stumbled out, eyes wide, face pale.

He collapsed to his knees, unceremoniously shoving Flash out of the way.

Tony tore off his professional black coat, pressing it gently against the bullet wound.

His hands were shaking, Flash noticed. The great inventor’s incredibly steady hands were shaking.

Tony cupped Peter’s pale face, whispering words Flash couldn’t hear.

He was crying.

Iron Man was crying.

Tony set his fingers on Peter’s pulse, turning frantically to the suit. “FRI! Get Cho here faster!”

Flash jumped when a woman’s voice, strangely robotic but still human echoed through the room.

“Boss, the med team is coming as fast as they can. The structure isn’t safe for them to enter, however. I would recommend bringing Peter to Helen.”

Tony breathed shakily, then leapt into action, the suit forming around him. He ever so carefully lifted Peter up, cradling him against his metal chest.

“Wait- what about me? Are you leaving me?” Flash cried, before Tony could blast off.

The blank, unforgiving mask turned to him. “Kid, I really don’t care right now. Someone from the team’ll pick you up.”

And then he was gone, sprinting down the hallway and blasting into the sky.

~~~~~

Flash sat numbly on the ground, farthest from the blood, until the Falcon swooped through the doorway.

“Flash, right?”

“Yes sir, I am. Flash. Flash Thompson.”

“Huh. Need a ride, kid?”

“Yeah, thanks!”

Flying with the Falcon was more terrifying than he’d expected.

He was screaming most of the time.

~~~~~

Flash stood stunned in the doorway.

He never thought he’d see Tony Stark collapse to his knees and sob, tears flowing like a river.

“Is he gonna die?” he asked nervously.

Tony looked up, his face forming a mask of fury. “No. My kid is not dying.” He stood up, striding towards Flash and wiping tears from his face. “I want you to get out of here, now. Out.”

“Sir… I-I’m sorry!”

Tony nodded. “I know you are. Now get out.”

Flash stumbled from the room.

~~~~~

Flash sat on the cold floor of the medbay hallway. The lights were off, and he regarded every shape with wariness.

Loud footsteps sounded near him, and then Pepper fucking Potts was bending in front of him.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “Y-yeah. I guess. Thanks.”

She sighed. “Tony didn’t mean to yell. He’s very protective of Peter. Overprotective, most of the time.”

“He was so mad,” he whispered, sniffing.

“He was terrified. Tony snapped.”

“But- but all I asked was if Peter’s gonna die!” he protested.

Pepper winced. “I don’t think you should say things like that, Flash. Everyone here loves Peter, especially Tony. What you said- it’s unimaginable for him.”

Flash stared. “The Avengers love Parker? But- but he’s just some pathetic kid!”

Pepper’s eyes turned to stone. “I do not want to hear you say that again.” She straightened. “Isn’t it about time you went home? I’ll call your parents.”

“No-no, wait! I wanna stay here! I wanna make sure he’s okay!” he cried.

Pepper sighed. “You can stay until Peter’s out of surgery. Then you’ll have to go, understand? Your parents will be worried.”

I doubt it, he thought.

~~~~~

Flash sat in a hard plastic chair. Tony was leaning against the wall by Peter’s surgery room, head in his hands. Pepper rubbed his back comfortingly.

And May Parker knelt by Tony, her arm around his shoulders.

They were a family.

Flash stared. He had been doing a lot of that.

~~~~~

Cho opened the door. Tony jerked his head up.

“He’s okay,” she said, smiling. “You can see him.”

Tony lunged up, and before Flash could blink, he was through the door.

~~~~~

Tony leaned his forehead against Peter’s, clutching both his small hands in one of his. Flash could tell he was talking, murmuring words of comfort.

This was, by far, the strangest day he’d ever had.

Tony Stark was crying in front of him.

He had flown with the Falcon.

Peter Parker, apparently, was the son of Tony Stark?

And the Avengers loved Peter?

The nobody from Queens?

Flash stood there silently, feeling like a nobody himself.

May and Tony were both cooing over Peter, kissing his face, stroking his curls.

After minutes (was it hours?) Tony sat up, still holding Peter’s hand tightly. He glanced around, eyes red, tears staining his white shirt.

When he saw Flash, however, his eyes gleamed with a murderous hint.

“Get him out! Get him out of here, now!” he snarled, standing up. “I don’t want him anywhere near my kid!”

“Tony.” May said, setting a hand on his arm.

“I don’t want him here-”

He spun at the sound of a whimper.

“Petey?”

“M’ss’r... M’ss’r Dad?” Peter choked, tears spilling down his face. “D’n’t kill Fl’sh! ‘S not his fault.”

“Petey,” he whispered, cupping his cheek. “It’s okay, don’t cry, baby, I got you. I’m not gonna kill Flash. It’s okay. Please, don’t cry, sweetheart, I got you. Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

Peter’s big eyes found his. “Not gonna kill him?”

“Shh, no, Petey, it’s okay. I got you. Dad’s here, mimmo. I’m here.” Tony kissed his cheek. “It’s okay.”

Peter smiled. Tony gently wiped tears from both their faces, combing his fingers through his curls.

Peter was okay.

He hadn’t killed Flash.

But he would kill for Peter, without a second thought.

~~~~~

Tag List: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @hold-our-destiny @depuella @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @jami161 @honeythepooh @bringitonvoldie

If anyone want to be added/ removed let me know!

~~~~~

/DO NOT TAG OR REBLOG AS ST*RKER/

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cheesy09 · 4 years

Text

Defenseless

Lo and behold, my first Helios fic! Phew, this took a while but I finally managed to get it complete. WARNING: UPCOMING ANGST. Oh, and also a sprinkle of Helios fluff. Also, I maaay have added a reference to one of Kiro’s cancelled R&S. This takes place after Chapter 17, in-between Kiro’s Thorns Date and Light Pursuit Date.

Dedicated to @kudoriee / @church-of-helios whose amazing fics and friendship really allowed me to grow in this fandom. Thank you so much, rie!! 😭 Also dedicated to @thatfanfictionchick whose insatiable thirst for Helios provides me endless amusement as well as some of THE GREATEST FICS I HAVE EVER READ. You ma’am, are my Kelios Queen and I hope you know that. 🤣

Anyway without further ado, enjoy!

Pairing: Kiro/Helios x Reader Genres: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 4,102

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you walked home that evening. Work had been much stressful today than normal. The guest speaker for today’s show had been a handful, constantly demanding things at the last moment and just being a complete douchebag. You had to practically restrain Kiki and Willow before they could judo-flip the dude. But honestly, you’d be lying if you said that that guy hadn’t been getting on your nerves as well. Especially with the constant passes and winks he’d throw your way…… you had to suppress a shiver.

Why couldn’t we get someone better?

A certain blonde-haired superstar came to your mind and you felt your heart clench painfully tight, threatening to drag all the air out of your lungs. You bit your lip hard.

Kiro…

Where are you…?

It had been weeks since you had last seen him. The last thing you remembered was that agonizing farewell, his blazing gold eyes, and that dazzling smile.

“Miss Chips… wait for me!”

His clear words that day still resonated in your mind. His voice had been so tender then, full of promise and hope. It was just one sentence, but to you, it was as valuable as a lifeline; something you clung to desperately—wishing, praying, believing that Kiro would come back home someday. That’s all you had to do. As long as you believed in him, you were sure he’d come back to you. After all, he was your hero. There was nothing in the world that Kiro couldn’t do.

That being said, it didn’t make the process any easier. It had been hard enough when he’d have to go on tour, but at least then you had known where he was. But now that you didn’t, it just made this so much harder. You missed him. Terribly so. And the fact that you couldn’t see him, hurt. You missed his unreserved, joyous laughter, dyed with the colors of youthful innocence. His sincere, affectionate gazes that he’d direct at no one but you. His voice, that would whisper sweet nothings to you whenever you’d feel stressed or worried. His slender arms, that would wrap around you in the most secure embrace, driving all of the darkness away. You missed the way he’d run his fingers through your hair, or the way he’d softly press his forehead against yours to look into your eyes. He had been all the warmth and gentleness that you’d ever want in your life, and you missed him.

But that wasn’t all.

Besides all that warmth, there were other things about him you missed as well. That other side of him; the one he’d show to no one else but you. Like the way his eyes would darken with sheer want and love when the air between you two would get heated. The way your blood would boil whenever he’d touch you. The way your cheeks would light on fire every time he’d confess his feelings to you.

The passionate kisses.

Stop...

The soft caresses.

Stop.

The longing filled in every ‘I love you.’

STOP!

You had to pause your footsteps as the memories flooded your mind, rapidly blinking away the tears that blurred your vision. You choked on your sobs, the tightness making it hard to breathe. People brushed past you, occasionally throwing questioning glances your way, but you were too heartbroken to care.

That was, until you felt a tap on your shoulder and a kind voice say, “are you okay, miss?”

You looked up and found a woman looking back at you, concern evident in her kind brown eyes. You quickly wiped away the few tears that had managed to slide down your cheeks and gave her a strained smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Her eyebrows were still scrunched in worry when she began to dig around in her purse for something. “I should have a few tissues around here…” she mumbled to herself.

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” You immediately exclaimed, feeling guilty from making a total stranger worry about you. You took out a handkerchief from your own purse. “I have a handkerchief. You don’t have to trouble yourself. And besides, my place is just a few blocks away. I’ll be fine.” You gave her a reassuring smile, just in case.

The woman finally let out a soft smile. “Oh, okay. You take care then.”

You nodded gratefully, thanked the kind lady again, and continued your walk home. Unfortunately, contrary to what you had told her, your home wasn’t just a few blocks away. It was still quite far, in fact. You had to take the subway there, which happened to be jam packed at that time of day—much to your chagrin—and by the time you neared your apartment complex, the sun had already set.

Making a firm decision, you entered an alley which also happened to be a shortcut to the complex. All you wanted, was to get home as soon as possible.

The alley was dark, with hardly any light to spare. Shadows flittered across the wall in a creepy dance, causing you to break out in nervous sweat.

That’s when you heard it—the sound of heavy footsteps right behind you. They sounded quick and alarming, causing a shiver to run up your spine. Without looking back, you quickened your own pace while you slowly brought your purse to the front, attempting to dig out your phone so you could the police.

As if sensing your motives, your pursuer’s footsteps increased in speed.

Suppressing the urge to scream, you broke out into a run, your heels sounding loud in the cold, dark night, wishing nothing more than to reach your apartment complex so security could catch whoever it was that was following you. But just as you reached the end of the alley, about to turn the corner, you ended up bumping into something flat and hard.

You lost your balance, your body tilting towards the ground as you braced for impact. But instead of falling, you felt a slender hand grab your arm and pull you back on your feet, steadying you. You looked up on reflex, ready to thank whoever it was that helped you, when a pair of familiar blue eyes entered your vision. Your eyes widened in shock and the name that escaped your lips belonged to one that you never would have expected you’d run into.

“Helios?!”

Helios looked just as amazed as you did, his lips parting ever so slightly. But then a second later, his features contorted into a look of exasperation, as if he was not at all happy to have run into you (which, he probably was). “Not you again,” he grunted in that cold voice of his, letting go of your arm in the process. Only then did he notice the person behind you and motioned with his head, his silver bangs brushing over his beautiful eyebrows. The hard lines on his face grew even more fierce. “Is this a friend of yours?”

You carefully looked behind you, knowing what he was referring to. It was the creep who had been following you, an inconspicuous middle-aged man who now stood frozen in his tracks, carefully eyeing the two of you. You immediately shook your head, trembling slightly. “N-no,” you whispered. “He isn’t.”

“Is that so…?” Helios muttered, not taking his eyes off the man, who now seemed to be getting nervous under his icy glare. Not that you could blame him. Even if Helios appeared to be relaxed, casually stuffing a hand in his pocket, nothing could hide the aura of danger that seemed to be radiating off of him—strong and oppressive. You didn’t know whether to feel comforted by his presence or feel even more intimidated by your predicament.

“H-hiya, pal…” the man began, his voice sounding shaky. He took out a dagger from his pocket and held it up for him to see. “If you know what’s best for ya, you better leave the lady with me an’ leave.”

Upon hearing his words, Helios’ indifferent expression slowly morphed into a sneer and his gaze turned mocking. “Or what? You gonna stab me with me with that little toy you got there?”

“What did you-?!”

Before the man could finish, Helios held up a gun in his direction, the silver steel glinting with a deadly light as he aimed it right at the man’s heart. “I give you three seconds,” he said, voice devoid of emotion. “Leave this place and never come back. Or else…”

Helios didn’t even have to begin counting. With a terrified yelp, the man had quickly scurried away, leaving nothing to show he was there to begin with. Helios quickly slid the gun back into his holster.

“Tsk, stupid low-lives. They’ve got way too much of free time,” he grumbled, running his fingers through his platinum hair. He glanced at you from the corner of his eyes and found you staring. “What?” he asked coldly.

Until now, you had done nothing but watch what was unfolding in front of you with wide eyes, much too shocked to move. To think that Helios, a member of Black Swan, would be the one to save you… again, despite the fact that he was a part of the enemy…… you didn’t think it was possible.

And yet, here you were, in said ‘impossible’ situation…… Just what had your life come to?

Helios glared at you impatiently and you cleared your throat, finally getting the words out of your mouth, though it still sounded weak. “U-um, thank you for saving me…”

“Again.”

You were taken aback. “I-I’m—excuse me, what?”

“Again. I saved you, again. Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled, a tremendous anger belying his tone. It made you shrink, still unable get used to his ferocity. But then again, it was understandable; you had only met the guy for a total of three times so far and they weren’t exactly in the friendliest circumstances. “You really have a knack for getting into danger, don’t you,” he sneered, eyes cold, distant and mocking.

“It’s not like I ask for this,” you frowned. You didn’t know why, but the way he spoke made you feel misunderstood and wronged somehow. The fear that you had felt just a few moments ago, suddenly came crashing back at you with full force. Overwhelmed, you turned your head to the side as you felt tears start to sting your eyes once again.

If Helios didn’t show up when he did… what would have happened to me?

Helios must’ve noticed your sudden silence and he pursed his lips, eyes darting off to the side. He didn’t say anything, probably not know what to do with the unexpected situation. After a few moments of stretched silence, slowly, you felt an awkward hand gently being placed on your head. “Relax. The bad guys are gone now,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically gentle. Well, as gentle as Helios could be, anyway.

You wanted to laugh; so hard your lungs would burst. Gee thanks, you wanted to roll your eyes. But all of that was caught in your throat. Instead, you found your cheeks unexpectedly heating up.

You were caught off guard. Helios’ sudden soft tone in that moment sounded so painfully familiar, like you should’ve known it like the back of your hand. It was right on the tip of your tongue, so close you could taste it. But there seemed to be a fog clouding your memories. A gap in your soul that desperately needed to be filled. It clenched your heart so painfully tight, it almost sucked out all the air from your lungs. Yet you couldn’t put your finger on it, and that frustrated you.

Deciding to ignore whatever it was you felt whenever this man was close by, you slowly took a step back from him. Helios’ hand fell back to his side.

“Anyway, gotta go,” he turned to leave, not bothering to give you a second glance. But before he could, your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He paused and turned back to look at you, clear confusion washing over his face. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were just as dumbfounded by your actions as he was. But the fear you felt if he left was so tangible, so utterly terrifying that it was enough to make you forget about the logic behind your actions. “C-could you accompany me till I reach home, please?” You stammered, not daring to look at his expression. “I-I’d be much too afraid on my own.”

Helios let out a snort. “And you want me to accompany you? How is that any better?”

You shook your head. “I know you. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Oh?” He narrowed his eyes sharply. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“But I know you enough to know that you wouldn’t do anything bad to me.” You gave him a slight smirk. “Call it a woman’s intuition.”

He side-eyed you for a while, as if trying to figure out something, his cold cerulean eyes calculating. Finally, he let out a resigned grunt. “…Tch, whatever. Only up until your door. After that, you’re on your own.”

You nodded. “That’s all I ask.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk to your apartment was quiet, as expected. Helios was a rather stoic man, only speaking up when necessary, or when riled up. But rather than feeling awkward about it, you actually welcomed the silence. It was comforting, in a way. Sure, the though of relying on Helios for protection at the moment was rather weird, but you knew you could trust him. For some reason, even though he was a member of Black Swan, you couldn’t sense any malice coming from him. It felt like, rather than supporting Black Swan’s ideals, Helios seemed to be occupied with his own agenda; not once had he said anything about you being the Queen. Wait, did he even know you were the Queen? You figured it was something every member in Black Swan knew about…… unless you were wrong.

The two of you passed through the entrance of the apartment complex where the security guard had been fast asleep. You heard Helios let out a soft snort behind you.

Once you got to your door, a memory from not long ago surfaced to your mind and you widened your eyes. “Oh, right! I still have the jacket you gave me back at the greenhouse.” You turned your keys, opened the door and walked in without looking behind you. You switched on the lights and dumped your bags on the couch. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll return it back to you.”

“You don’t need—”

“You don’t have to stand out there. You can come in, if you want,” you said without thinking. You heard Helios sigh behind you as you disappeared into the bedroom to get the jacket he had left behind when the two of you had last met. Although Helios made it clear that he didn’t need it to be returned, you had still carefully washed it. Maybe you had an inkling that the two of you would meet again, by some weird twist of fate.

You walked back to the living room where Helios was waiting. But as soon as you reached the entrance, you stopped in your tracks. He was hovering close to the entrance, busy looking at a photograph that was placed on top of the wooden counter nearby.

It was a photo of you and Kiro.

The photo had been taken during your trip to Japan, when the two of you had gone flower-viewing together. You had requested a kind passer-by to click that picture while the two of you sat over a spread-out picnic blanket. You were seated in-between Kiro’s legs, your back pressed against his chest while his arms encircled your waist, the both of you flashing bright smiles at the camera, laughter dancing in your bright eyes. The happiness that the two of you radiated was infectious to anyone that laid their eyes on you.

Kiro……

You suppressed the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you and shifted your gaze to Helios. You couldn’t see the expression on his face from where you were standing, but the loneliness that he exuded tugged at your heartstrings. You tightened your hold on his jacket, fingers curling into the rough fabric. The vision of loneliness that came from this man gave you a sense of déjà vu, almost like you’d seen it somewhere before. Before you could dwell on it further though, you heard a slightly teasing voice calling out to you. “Just how long are you going to stand there and look at me?” Helios asked, shooting you a look with a raised eyebrow. “Or do you just love admiring me that much?”

You grew flustered and glared at him. “I wasn’t admiring you!”

A corner of his lips tugged upwards, the motion so slight, you almost didn’t notice it. For some reason, it made butterflies flutter in your belly. “Oh really?”

You puffed your cheeks in exasperation and strutted up to him, shoving the jacket in his hands. “Anyway, here’s your jacket. I washed it for you, so you don’t need to worry about stains or anything.” You paused, then added “thank you for lending it to me.”

He looked down at his jacket, then looked back up to meet your eyes. You were taken aback by his gaze. At the unfathomable emotions swirling in its otherwise-emotionless depth. Your breath caught in your throat. You knew that look. You’d find it on your own face every time you thought about Kiro.

……Yearning.

As if catching himself, Helios looked away almost immediately. “You know, between the shabby security of this place and your attitude towards your safety, you’re gonna get yourself killed sooner or later,” he said dryly, as if the look he had just now was nothing but a lie.

Maybe it was.

You shook your head and snorted, ignoring your pounding heart and flushed skin. “Don’t underestimate me, Helios. I may be a girl, but I’m more than capable of protecting myself.”

He scoffed. “Says the person who was fleeing for her life just a few moments ago…… Admit it. You were utterly defenseless.”

“……W-was no—!”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Your vision blurred as you felt a sudden force grabbing you, two strong hands latching onto your wrists and pinning you against the wall, your front pressing against the cool surface. You felt Helios’ hot breath right next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He was so close; you could smell him. It was a chilly fragrance, one that was foreign to your senses, but still drew you in. His jacket was left forgotten on the floor.

“See?” He whispered; his soft voice dangerous yet alluring. “Defenseless.”

“I-I get it, I get it. N-now, could you please let go of me?” You pleaded, your mind a complete blank. Having him so close made you unable to think straight.

He chuckled. “Relax. Just like you said; I won’t hurt you.”

His hands left your wrists. But instead of pulling back, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his firm chest, the force almost knocking the air out of your lungs. His palm was scorching through the thin fabric of your blouse, setting your skin ablaze. It confused you to no end. Helios confused you to no end.

You registered his chest pressed against your back, the chin brushing against the top of your head. You fit so perfectly against him, as if your bodies were molded for each other, like two pieces of a puzzle.

This wasn’t the first time you felt this body pressed against your own.

Your mind raced as the blood rushed to your cheeks. You struggled to remember something, desperately seeking through your hazy memories. But no matter how much you searched, you just couldn’t get past the murky fog that blocked your hunt. You let out a shuddering breath. Why? Why did this heat feel so familiar…?

Involuntarily, you pressed yourself further against Helios, trying to feel more of this familiar warmth.

Startled by your actions, Helios visibly stiffened against your back. His fingers tensed on your waist, slightly pressing the supple flesh. “What are you doing?” he asked, voice low and guttural.

You tilted your neck backwards, eyes meeting his from under his chin. Your locked gazes seemed to have added a layer of intimacy to the surrounding air, thick and lingering. You had never gotten a closer look at him than you did right now. Immaculate features graced his face, along with deep blue eyes, fair skin and pretty silver hair. You had to admit—when he wasn’t busy sneering at you, or when his eyes weren’t so hurtfully cold, he actually looked… beautiful…

“Why are you so……” Your voice trailed, unable to finish. Unconsciously, your hand landed over his at your waist, your fingers brushing against his knuckles.

……familiar? You finished internally.

Helios’ eyebrow twitched, seeming to have been irked by your words and he let go of the embrace. He picked up his jacket from the floor and swung it over his shoulder, acting as if nothing ever happened. He nonchalantly walked up to the front door, tossing one last glance at the photograph on his way out. “See ya. Don’t get killed.”

And just like that, he was gone.

You looked at the photograph sitting atop the counter. Kiro’s smile shone through the frame, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly. You picked it up and pressed it against your forehead, feeling the tears starting to sting your eyes.

“Kiro…… I miss you……”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Helios walked through the night, the moonlight reflecting his lithe figure, making his silver hair shine with a beautiful but deadly glow. His combat boots let out an audible crunch as he stepped over the dead leaves that scattered the ground. The breeze that blew that night brought with an unusual chill with it. But the warmth that emanated from the jacket he was wearing seemed to block that out. It felt like the sun’s rays, wrapping warmly around him.

Just like her.

Helios hadn’t expected to run into her when he did, and especially not like that. He’d done nothing but try to avoid her as much as possible and yet… It was like there were magnets stuck to his back, drawing him to her.

He couldn’t help it. That’s what seventeen years of feelings does to you.

She had looked thinner since he last saw her at the greenhouse. And there had been dark circles under her eyes, as if she wasn’t getting enough sleep. Not that he could blame her. He knew of the burden she carried, being the Queen that Black Swan was after. The one factor that could single-handedly change the fate of this world. And knowing her, she wouldn’t just sit by and let herself be swallowed by fate. So he had decided to support her, by doing what he could on his side, as well as complete the mission his master had given him.

But still……

The memory of her in his arms from just a few minutes ago flashed through his head and he clenched his jaw. His self-control in that moment had been astounding. She had been so close, enough that he could’ve just leaned down to kiss her. He wanted to. Almost did, but he held himself back. And he was glad he did. Leaving her had been hard enough, but treating her coldly and making her forget about him had been pure torment.

He knew it was selfish, but he just couldn’t bring himself to show her this side of himself. If she knew about the things he’s done, about the sheer amount of people he has killed, how would she look at him…?

Just the possibility of her pretty smile disappearing from her face, or her pure, starry eyes being laced with disgust every time she looked at him, utterly terrified him.

So he had no choice but to make her forget. Even if it tore him up inside, if she was able to live with the happy memories of Kiro the Superstar, that was enough for him. After all, he didn’t plan on staying in this darkness for long.

Even if she was experiencing pain for now, he’d make sure to return to her side again someday and take all her pain away. And when that happened, he’d hold onto her tight and never let go.

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

Thank you so much for reading! If you’re interested in checking out my other works, you’ll find them in my Masterlist.

#mlqc #mlqc kiro #mlqc helios #mlqc fanfic #love my multi-faceted angel #he's going through a lot #writing that last part hurt me #my writing

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kaylathekittykat225 · 4 years

Text

Tears in the Heart // Steve Harrington X Wheeler!Reader

Warning/s: language, angst, fluff? Flufting? Flirting? I don’t know man. I just went into a frenzy writing.

Word Count: Y’all it keeps getting going, I need to be stopped; 25k. I am sorry, I got excited

Guys, y’all are egging me on to write angst, and angst is my love somehow, don’t stop. And it’s all fine that angst is how I write, that and slow burrrrrrrrrn! Okay go onto reading.

This one was requested by gwenandtheunfortunatename

Hey!! I just love your writing and long fics!!! Can u do one where the reader is a female!Wheeler reader and feels invisible with her family but actually has a few friends in school? Nancy and Steve are dating but then he slowly starts to notice how she doesn’t treat her sister well (maybe the reader is missing from school one day?) or doesn’t pay attention so it becomes a concern for him or someth??

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

—–

Watching paint dry was always the most infuriating thing, especially for you as someone who was so excited for the first layer of paint to dry so that you could start applying the next layer or just wanting your beautiful art piece to be done so you could feel accomplished with what you just did. Watching paint dry was an infuriating task, and yet here you were, dancing around your room to the music your radio was blasting for you while you continued to wait for the first layer of what you were painting to dry enough so as not to smudge.

Some great artists prefer to work even through the wet paint: Monte used it to blend two colors together seamlessly, Van Gogh used it to have the colors stand out more when he used the globs of paint to add dimension to the canvas, Bob Ross used the wet paint to ring out the true beauty of the world and showing how colors don’t stand out, but truly blend in together.

You worked differently than those guys, for one thing you weren’t a famous painter like they were. But you couldn’t stand mixing colors together from different layers. The composition looked messy when you tried doing it, so you knew you felt more comfortable with layering and drying paint on top of itself. Just was not the thing for you.

The song changed and a grin grew on your face as you heard the guitar riff opening and felt a rush of energy surging through you. Your paint brush was held in your mouth between your teeth and your dancing started back up again as you cranked the volume up a little louder to get the entire room shaking. The music was so loud, and you were so in the zone of mixing up your next shade of reddish pink that you didn’t hear someone screaming at you about the volume of your radio. They noticed when your volume went up and that you weren’t noticing their calling your name.

You didn’t notice them until they turned off your radio entirely and tried calling your name again. “Y/N.” Your name was called again, this time it startled you to the point that you let out a small scream that let you drop your paint brush from your mouth and strike the ground. Spinning to face your radio, you saw your mother staring at you with a look on her face that you often received when you did something wrong. “It’s almost midnight, Y/N. Holly and Michael are in bed, where you should be, and your sister is trying to study for an exam tomorrow. Now is not the time for you to let the entire neighborhood hear what you are listening to.”

“Sorry, mom.” You grabbed your paint brush off the ground and looked back up to see your mother had been replaced by your older sister. “Sorry I disturbed your studying. What class is it for?” While you asked your question, you worked on moving your easel from the middle of your room to one of the corners while also chucking your paints into a box along with your brushes.

When your sister didn’t answer, you looked up at her to see her just staring at you from the door. She had this little smile on her face, one that didn’t show any emotion though. “Oh, it’s not like you care about my test. All you worry about is your art and painting. Next time, at least put on some better music, not your shitty trash.” And with that, she shut the door behind her with a flick of her hair over her shoulder as she left.

You finished cleaning up after your paint dance, not giving too much thought to what she said to you as you pulled your sweater over your head and changed into your pajamas. Comments like that have been a common back and forth between the two of you ever since you entered high school with Nancy.

Maybe it was something to remind you that you were a year younger and she knew her way around the school better than you did. Honestly why she was doing this was unknown to you, so you just rolled with it. She never said anything mean or anything like that, just…

You shook your head as you pushed your covers back and slid into bed, getting ready to pull your lamp cord when there was a loud thud coming from your window. Instinct told you to ignore it and just go to sleep leaving whatever outside your window outside, it was most likely a squirrel who ran into the glass of your window while trying to get back onto its nest.

And you tried. You did click your lamp off and pulled your covers up to your chin, letting your eyes fall shut as you worked on falling asleep for tomorrow's day. As soon as your eyes were closed however, another tap rattled your window, and something was making noises outside the glass. “Just ignore it.” That was your mantra for the time being as you did so, pretending the sound wasn’t there and that you could just. Fall. Asleep.

Tap tap tap. “Dammit.” You groaned while throwing the blankets off you, following your intuition through the dark room to where your window should be, having forgotten to send the light back through the room as your annoyed self walked closer to the window. “I’m going to kill this fucking squirrel and eats its nu-” Your rant to yourself was interrupted as soon as you forced your blinds open and you saw a face staring back at you in the darkness outside.

A shriek left your mouth as you took a step backwards, stumbling away from the horrifying sight of someone staring back at you in the night. The face itself jumped back ever so slightly from where it was pressed against your window when it saw you too.

The two of you stared at each other for a few more seconds before you recognized who the hell was staring into your bedroom window. It was your sister’s boyfriend, Steve Fricking Harrington. Why the hell was he staring into your window?

Pulling open your window, you looked over at your clock and saw that it was midnight, stating this to the boy who was hanging from your window frame, his fingertips turning red from holding on. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, Snow White. I’m sorry I didn’t want to fall to my death.” His voice came out strained as he moved to pull himself into your window.

“Whoa! I didn’t say you could come in! What are you doing on my windowsill? Stop climbing in my window!” Your voice was a whisper that also counted as yelling as you tried stopping him from entering your room, not to much avail though. “Harrington, what what are you doing here?!”

“Shut up, Wheeler.” Steve finished coming through the window, somehow finding a way to trip as his foot finished coming through, falling into you and sending the two of you down to the floor. “Jesus, Wheeler, sorry to say, but I do have a girlfriend. You are being very forward though.” From where you were laying on the floor with him kneeling over you on all fours, Harrington had this shit eating grin on his face which caused a slight anger to boil inside you.

Instead of answering him, you shoved your hand into his face and pushed him away, telling him to get off you with a mutter. “Wh-what are you doing here, Harrington? It’s midnight and you are in my room. What the hell is going on?” Standing to your feet, you watched him also pull himself up while shifting his hair around to make sure it stood where he wanted it to be.

“Funny story there, Wheeler. But that is a story for another time.” He spoke to you as though his being in your room was not a pressing matter. “What I do need to know, Wheeler, is how pissed your dad would be about finding me here?” Steve craned his neck to look out your window, apparently trying hard not to be spotted as he was looking for most likely your father.

Scoffing, you sat back down in your bed, staring at him from where you sat. “Honestly, it’s not my dad you should be worried about.” He sighed at your response in relief. “My mom on the other hand…” You made a face that got the message across, because your dad was an amazing man, but your mother had her own mind that definitely got in the way of a lot of things your sister and even yourself sometimes when Karen Wheeler brought her mind to a stop. And Nancy seemingly sneaking her boyfriend into her room next to yours was definitely not something your mom would be fine with.

You heard a quiet ‘shit’ and felt a small feeling of smugness rush through you as quickly as the cold overtook your room. “If you’re gonna sneak in and out of Nancy’s room, honestly it would be quieter just to go from my room to the shed on the other side of the room.” Steve stared at you curiously at this suggestion, even you yourself were shocked at your offering, but you really couldn’t take that back after he quietly inched his way closer to the window at the other end of your room.

Standing up, you made your way over to be next to him as he pulled your curtains away from the window, revealing that your window had easier access to get to the ground than your sister and the garage. “Plus, I have direct access to the woods, so my parents won’t notice your car around if you park it behind that big tree back there.” While pointing all these features out, you noticed that he was staring at you with a look that read extreme confusion.

“Why...why are you helping me sneak into your sister’s room?” You both were wondering that, but he didn’t have to voice it like that. Your face grew warmer as you fumbled for words about why you did this, because you didn’t really know why except for the excuse of not wanting them to get caught and then the entire family being forced not to ever leave again. That was a good excuse, it did the trick though.

Because you couldn’t explain why you would stick your neck out like that, for Nancy and Harrington. Nothing against the two of them, but you were too impartial to the two of them to risk anything.

So you scoffed and gave him the lame excuse you thought of and worked on shooing him out of your room. “Okay, okay. Jeez, Wheeler, I’m leaving. Sorry to whoever has to deal with sleep deprived you for the rest of their lives.” He shimmed himself out of the window, forgetting completely to close your other window, forcing you to get back out of bed and shut it before shutting the window he just dropped down from.

You watched him sneak his way to the front of the house and hopefully make an uneventful exit before you pulled the curtains in front of your window shut, bringing your world around you into darkness that you found oddly uncomfortable while standing in the middle of the room.

Sleep didn’t come as easily as you wanted it to; it never really took you over, leaving you to sleep more restlessly than normal and thus a sleep deprived Y/N took to the world. Your first few periods floated past you honestly like a dream, nothing happened, just the teacher murmuring on about their respective subjects. Nothing interesting to you really.

Your mother frequently got on your case to pay more attention in these classes, because every year, like clockwork, during parent teachers week, your teachers would comment on how you needed to remember to turn in your homework, or if you do turn in your homework, to not doodle across half of it. It was always commenting about your behavior in classes and school, how you looked like you would rather be somewhere else than cooped up there all day. Your mother always told you to do better. Why did you have to be interested in painting? Why not a sport or be good at school like your sister because brains could get you a good husband and an easy life.

Your father never spoke up during these meetings, sitting there because he was the man of the family and should be an example for his daughter to marry. He never took your side, but he also never defended your mother and her beliefs of how you should follow in your sister’s footsteps. It was never a secret, but your dad gifted you various paints, brushes, new pencils. When you were running out of a specific paint, or needed a new book or canvas, you found one more always tucked away in your closet, where you thought you checked, but there it was anyway.

There were few things in the world you knew for certain, you loved painting and how it freed your soul, how excited you were to graduate and head to California to get away from this damned town, but one thing you were certain on, was that you were not unloved by your father. You never doubted his love even if it wasn’t on his sleeve like your mother’s love of Nancy.

Speaking of Nancy, honestly after last nights...odd interaction between Harrington and yourself, you didn’t know how to look him or your sister in the eye. You had nothing to be ashamed of, it's not like you kissed him or anything, just the thought alone made you shudder, so why were you unable to look at them throughout the school day?

“Ugh!” You groaned at these stupid thoughts that were plaguing your thoughts and slammed your head down onto your notebook on the lunch table you were sitting at. Your sudden noise and head banging caused the other occupants of your table to look up; Matt and Clare had been giving each other looks all lunch with how you were acting today.

On any given day you were still quiet and almost always doodling away in the margins of your notebooks or going so far as to pulling your full sketchbook out just to get a bigger picture going. But you didn’t have a book open in front of you or a pencil in your hand, instead your fingers were rapping against the hard table and your leg was shaking so bad that you were shaking the table.

You were so out of it that you couldn’t hear your own name being called. “Y/N...Y/N.” Matt had been repeatedly calling your name the last five minutes after he finished up his own lunch and was eyeing your Cheetos that hadn’t been touched. Clare told him to leave you alone, but your ginger friend was ever persistent in stealing your food. “What if I just take the bag from her?” He directed the question towards Clare next to him while staring at your bag of snacks.

“I mean she’s out of it enough that I kind of want to see what happens.” Clare was watching you just as intently, your head was still down on the table. “She may have died; I haven’t seen her move since her head fell down.” Clare said Y/N and died and Matt let out the loudest gasp the cafeteria ever heard; she didn’t honestly know which one to be more embarrassed about, the fact that heads turned or that not enough heads turned for this to be the first time for him to be this obnoxious in the school lunchroom.

While Matt was busy slapping a bruise excitedly on Clare’s arm, you raised your head up and roughly rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands. “I’m not dead, Matt. I just...I can’t figure out this drawing.”

“No, no, no, no. But wait.” Matt decided to ignore your distress and Clare’s slapping his hand away and kept talking. “But think about it! The perfect way to murder someone! What if Nancy wanted to kill Y/N and what she’s been doing is poisoning her food slowly over time and it’s finally kicking in! Nancy Wheeler is mur-” Your best friend was screaming at this point before your other best friend slammed her hand over his mouth with a dark blush over her face.

“Matthew Schafer listen to me hard and clear. Shut. Up. Now is not the time for one of your theories, especially one about a certain someone’s sister.” Clare growled that last piece out while tilting her head towards you. The two of them looked over to you as they saw you doodling away on a napkin you had picked up from the lunch line, your chin resting on your hand and your other, dominant hand, held the pencil you were drawing with.

Your entire body was shaking from your leg, causing the picture you were drawing to be scratchy, which, maybe that’s how you wanted it to be. “Why is she shaking so much?” Matt mumbled against Clare’s hand; their eyes fixed harshly on you as they just watched. Watch their best friend unravel before their eyes, watch her get frustrated at the drawing in pen on a napkin, watch her groan in frustration and let your head fall back on the table.

Clare let go of Matt’s mouth slowly and reached over the table to grab your arm, moving slowly to not scare you. As her hand grabbed onto you, she realized how much you were letting your leg bounce, she could feel it through your body, making her own arm gently shake. You didn’t respond right away to her hand, leading her to rub her thumb up and down your arm and giving you a gentle squeeze. “Y/N?”

In the six years of knowing you for Clare, she had been there for your lowest and highest, she had seen you through late night anxiety, posttest highs, first time putting your art up for others to see. She hadn’t been there for everything, but she had been there for enough to help you through the rough times. Clare looked at you, just waiting for you to lift your head up.

“Y/N, look at me.” Whether listening to her or not, you did lift your head up and met her eyes. “Are you okay?” there was no doubt that her words were filled with earnest worry, you could tell that and that she was worried about you, along with Matt who you also had you fixed in his eyes.

The quiet moment was shattered as the school bell screamed that there was four minutes for you to get to your next class. You followed the crowd around your friend group in packing up your pencil case and collecting your trash to toss while walking by the trash can. “Yeah, just frustrated at this drawing I can’t figure out.” And with that you walked out of the cafeteria and towards the one place that could calm you down, with Matt and Clare following close behind you until they were side by side with you.

They dropped your lunchtime behavior and Matt quickly filled the silence with his complaining about his Statistics teacher giving him homework to do over this next weekend after they just turned in a big packet not days ago. Clare filled in how her AP Chemistry teacher totally screwed her over with the test today and how he told the class that there would be no Nuclear Chemistry on the exam and yet two of the math twelve point questions were all nuclear that she couldn’t bullshit her way through and just did random math to get some sort of partial credit.

And you listened, adding in your thoughts here and there, stating how it was unfair to add homework after just finishing one, how shitty of a teacher it was to go against his word on what was gonna be on the test. The trio of you sat down in the art class you all have together with your respective easels in front of all of you with paints also at the ready on the table next to the canvas.

Class began, with your teacher talking about your assignment for the day, (what kind of inspiration was something you see every day?) and letting you go free and let your artistry be free. And this was when you felt something from the back of your head that you had been wrestling with all, maybe you could get this off your mind officially and be able to think of anything else other than this random nose.

It’s honestly stupid to be banging your head over something as simple as a nose, but this was driving you insane. Honestly batshit insane because usually you thought of something and you moved quickly to draw it since your brain was already working on some details that you needed the basic features to draw first.

And yet today was the day that you could finally say a human nose took the best of you. Matt worked on another Pokémon, last week you laughed to yourself as he got more and more excited with the orange and reds in his Charmander drawing. This week, yellow and blacks seemed to be the color he was reaching for; this will be interesting to watch from behind him. And Clare pulled out a polaroid picture from her backpack and taped it to the upper corner of the canvas, showing you the still shot of the main road running through downtown.

You also began your own work, grabbing hold of your pencil before reaching for the easel and you let your hand draw instinctively. You started with the structure of the face, a face you couldn’t think of but felt the need to draw a face structure; maybe this face structure would help you through the nose and drawing the rest of the face may be able to get you done with this face.

Faces and portraits weren’t your forte, they weren’t what you went for. You enjoyed drawing abstract pieces, things that spoke to you, because painting people wasn’t what you wanted others to see, you wanted to paint things that meant something to you, that could mean something to others if they saw your artwork. Art for you was emotion, drawing from the human soul, passion, and you felt like you couldn’t do that by painting someone’s face onto a canvas.

And all this nose was doing for you was driving you insane and getting your angrier by the second. This wasn’t something you felt comfortable just throwing paint at; penciling was stupid in your mind because this puts a lot of stress on the artist to be perfect, to not allow changes to be made midway through the project. So why were you penciling?

With a frustrated groan, you tossed the pencil onto the table next to you and stared at the white board in front of you, the blank one with some pencil scratches through the middle. Looking around the edge of your own canvas, you took a look at Matt and Clare, seeing them both working away at their own respective paintings, the orange and yellow of Charizard and the browns and reds of the town picture Clare was replicating.

Your eyes went back over to Matt, watching his face scrunch up in focus as he worked on getting the roaring face of the dinosaur looking creature just right, and his nose was all wrinkled as he dipped the brush back into the paint he was using. His nose.

“Matt.” The ginger turned to you, revealing that he had a second paint brush between his teeth, looking at you with a blocked ‘huh?’ “Can you just sit there for a second, I need to draw something really quick.”

His eyes brows perked up as you picked up one of your smaller tipped paint brushes and proceeded in dipping into the black and looked to Matt’s nose for inspiration as to how to begin to shape the nose. “Are you painting me like one of your French girls? Ow! What the hell was that for?” His head changed directions as he turned to glare at Clare who just chucked a paint brush straight at his head.

“That’s for-”

“Mr. Schaefer, don’t make me call your father down here for spouting profanity.” The art teacher called from the front of the classroom without looking up from her grading papers.

Matt muttered to himself as he turned around and rubbed the spot he was hit in the back of the head. “What do you need, Y/N?”

“I just need you to sit there so I can draw your nose.” Without looking at him too much, you quickly drew the shape of his nose, noting the subtle differences between Matt’s and whatever nose you keep thinking about. Things you could change when you moved on to shading and coloring the skin tone around the nose and over the black, a color you didn’t like to use for line work made things too neat. Shading differentiates the shadows from the highlights and the normal skin tone, there was no reason for you to use black to do this.

Matt made some comments about the weird request and started bragging to Clare about how his nose was ‘Y/N painting worthy’. The two of them began bickering about their noses and which ones of them had a better looking one, but you left them to bicker as you pulled pink and yellow together, pulling a little white and red into play as you mixed a skin tonish color together. Or, at least you think it looked kinda like skin tone, it wasn’t exact, but you figured it would do.

The rest of the period, you worked hard to get this nose right, shading here and there, adding brown to the skin tone shade you make it seamlessly flow together with a speck of white to the tip of the nose. Overall, it was a pretty good-looking nose.

So why did you still feel bugged about this? You finished the painting that you had in your mind, but why didn’t you feel the accomplishment of finishing one of your paintings? There was always a sense of greatness that you feel when completing a project, and it wasn’t here. You felt nowhere near close enough to feeling that.

The period bell rang, pulling you out of your mind and frustration as you were forced to work on it tomorrow, hopefully you can get whatever your mind is stuck on. Breaking down your easel, you put your paint and everything away before meeting Matt and Clare outside the door. “How’d my nose picture go, Y/N? I may wanna see that.”

The three of you chuckled on your way out the door, happily in your own world as you passed your sister on the way down the hall. Nancy didn’t bother giving you a glance as she smiled at her boyfriend walking over to her. “Hey babe.” She giggled as he reached down and pressed a quick peck to her lips before they walked off to her next class.

“Hey, beautiful, how was your chem test?”

“Well I would have had time to study more of my nuclear notes had someone not been interrupting me.” She fluttered her eyes at him before bouncing into explaining how she thinks she got at least a 91% based upon how many questions she thinks she got wrong. Steve Harrington chuckled at her angry comments on her teacher and told him that she can’t be anywhere near him when AP study time comes around.

“Babe, I know every way of sneaking into your room. I’ll always be there for you, for moral support or for a distraction. Besides, you don’t have to start studying until later next week, so relax.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair.

Nancy scoffed and looked up at him through her thick lashes. “And I don’t have time to not stud, Steve, I need to keep up.” His face visibly dropped at the mention of it already being that time of year. “Hey, I promise I’ll see you every day.” He commented on how he would hope so and the two of them made a run for their next classes as the bell was about to ring.

-----

Through the drive home, from the passenger seat of your sister’s car, you had your sketchbook on your lap with a pencil lazily being pushed and pulled across the paper in no specific way right now. You hated pencil, as seen with the nose painting, but it was still a basic art form that helps you start on something, getting an idea for what to doodle possibly as a full piece or just something to do in an evening.

Horribly so, after a few pencil strokes, you noticed something come forth in the picture. “Damnit.” You curse under your breath and shut the book before sliding it into your backpack.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Nancy asked as she continued driving the three of you home, with Mike in the backseat doing some math homework he should have done this morning.

Glancing at her, you knew she wasn’t interested in why you were frustrated yet again, a mutual understanding the two of you had as she would often talk about Steve and her school work on the way home while you just let her rattle on. She was just sick of your groaning next to her, no doubt. “Not that you care but a drawing has been bugging me all day.” She hummed in response, proving your point and how she wasn’t listening.

“Hey Y/N?” Mike chirped up from the back of the car as he leaned forward to perch his head onto the middle seat between you and Nancy. “Can you draw me a picture of my paladin if I describe him to you?”

A smile grew on your face. “Sure, thing bud. Can I do it tomorrow?” He nodded with a big grin on his face as he leaned back into his seat as Nancy pulled into the driveway and parked next to your father’s car.

“You’re the best, Y/N!” Your little brother called out as he pedaled away on his bike, also screaming about how he would be back before dark from...Dustin’s house? You couldn’t hear him at the point of where he was turning out of the driveway. That kid brought a larger smile to your face as you made your way into the house with Nancy close behind you.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Not even two steps into the house and your mother was calling you for helping in chores.

Following the voice of your mother, you found her in the kitchen with Holly on her hip and working over the stove at what you can assume to be dinner for tonight. “What do ya need mom?”

“Take Holly while I finish dinner. Oh, Nancy, how was your test?” Your baby sister was passed on to you while your older sister sat with your mom and talked about her day.

You looked down at Holly and filled your cheeks with air to make your face appear to be a frog as you walked the two of you out of the kitchen. “Come on, Ms. Holly, should we go paint a picture for mom and daddy?”

“Yeah!” Holly cheered at you mentioning her being able to play with paint. Your mom may have had a good grip on Nancy and made sure she had her bright future ahead and she kept her sweet baby Holly close, but Holly ran to you every time. You “tricked” Holly into liking you because you had paints and paper she could color on and give her arts to different peoples of the family.

The two of you make your way up to your room as you asked her about her day and she told you about how in preschool, Danny Cincade was pulling her pigtails during lunch and he wouldn’t stop until one of the teachers saw him do that to her. “Well, next time he does that to you, tell him that it hurts your hair and it hurts your feelings. If he doesn’t listen to you…” You paused before thinking about what you were going to say next as you set her down in the chair at your desk and pulled the paper out for her to begin her project on. “Well I will say that you decide what you should do when he’s pulling your hair, whether that’s pull his hair or call him a mean name like he’s a poop head, then I say you can make that choice, Holly-bell. But make sure you ask him to stop.”

Your little sister gave a surprising amount of thought to this before she nodded. “Can I have paint now? I wanna draw daddy a big and spiky porkipine!”

You did a “surprised” gasp. “A porcupine? Now why would you want to give dad a porcupine picture?”

“Cause he was extra spikey today with his hair, and he was grumpy today when he drives me to school.” Holly grabbed one of your old paint brushes you no longer used and dipped it heavily into the brown paint that you pulled out for her before splattering it on the paper in front of her. You loved watching her paint, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, her little tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth while her nose scrunched up in total concentration at her little piece of art she wanted to work on.

It was amazing to see, truly it was, to see someone so enthralled in their own work that they have no other cares in the world besides what is in front of her. Maybe that’s how you looked to the outside world. Because that’s how you feel when you paint, just you, your brush in the paint, the colors, and your imagination; that’s honestly all you needed for yourself to feel what you created.

You smiled to yourself while you grabbed hold of your own art supplies and set the tripod easel in its usual spot, at this point the three legs having their own divets in the carpet from where it spends its time. Staring at the canvas, you thought to yourself for a few minutes of where you should continue going; on the canvas was a dark red background overall with a much lighter center that was meant to draw you in closer, get a good look at everything.

In the middle sat a heart, not one that any five-year-old could draw, but an anatomical heart, you had the shape down and blank canvas towards the main junctions of the heart, with various plans of flowers in your head to put on top and within the heart.

A heart is the garden of the body, where everything is felt, consoled, thought through. The brain is the rudder of the body, but the heart is its center, the guiding force, the heart stops the brain from going into autopilot and gives you something to do and work for. The heart harbors so many emotions that flourish and grow into beautiful flowers, flowers you were working on painting right here. Flowers you wanted others to see and appreciate. But the flowers would have to wait because you needed to work on the soil of the flowers right now and finish shading in the features of the heart and its musculature.

“Y/N!” You had barely started mixing paints when you heard your mother call your name. “Holly! It’s time for dinner!” A sigh mixed with a groan from your desk.

“But I’m almost finished.” Holly whined, her slouched shoulders giving away her sadness and wanton to finish the rest of the painting. “I just need to finish daddy’s spikes.”

Stepping over to her, you looked over her shoulder and felt her smile come back onto your face at the sight in front of you. “You can finish painting, Holly-bell. Mommy and them can wait a few moments.” And she went back to painting, with a quickness behind her paintbrush while you stood over her, waiting for the inevitable second call to be heard.

She was almost done. “Y/N. Get down here and eat.” And there it was, with your mother doing her normal drawing out the last word to warn you she was not in a playing mood tonight.

“One second, mom!” You called down the stairs before looking at your little sister again. “Hurry it on up, Holly.”

“I’m almost there. Just two more spikes.” You followed her paint brush, noting more than two strokes as she worked to finish up. “Done!”

“Y/N Wheeler, get down here, now!”

You picked Holly up while she gingerly held the painting so that no one smudged it up and set her on your hip. “And that means that mommy is hungry, so we better get going, little miss Holly-bell.” The pair of you exited your bedroom and headed down stairs, where you whisper to Holly to be ready to fight mommy’s angry wrath, leaving her giggling as you set her down at her spot at the table next to your father.

Dinner was uneventful, it was meatloaf night so the group of you naturally began arguing how ketchup was a necessity for topping off your dinner. Currently it was only you and Mike fighting hard for ketchup while the rest of your family was arguing for either no topping or barbeque sauce, but no one else understood what you meant when you said that it made the meatloaf so much better.

-----

You found yourself standing in front of your work, only an hour or so after dinner had ended, and Holly just came in to tell you goodnight and that ‘daddy really liked his porcupine. Now that her painting for the day was done, you could relax and do your own work for the day on your work you commissioned yourself to do a little over a week ago. Tonight, you wanted to finally work on getting the flowers painted and going in on details around the actual heart itself, showing the roots of the flowers making their way down the face of the heart.

And that is what you did for the next hour or so of your night, dancing to your music, mixing paints, and applying layers of the colors onto the canvas, covering what little white was left and finally felt accomplished that everything was covered even if there was at least another week's worth of painting to go, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t continue working at it and making the sweet ending ever closer.

However, you did need to wait a few more minutes before adding more touches since paint is not an instantaneous drier, thank God you didn’t ever find joy in oil painting, you would have gone mad trying to wait for that to dry enough for you to move on to the next piece of work. So, while waiting, you saw the clock and decided that it was time to switch into your pajamas and get comfy.

From across the hall, you heard the shower start up and figured that Nancy was in for her shower, since Mike was a morning showerer type of person and your parents had their own bathroom, Nancy was the only person you could think of to be showering right now. Your pants had already been switched out with pajama bottoms and you were tugging your shirt off when you heard something thump behind you. Turning around with the enlarged sleep shirt in your hands as you worked on flipping it right side out when you made eye contact with someone in your room.

“Shit!” The word left your mouth before you could think of anything other than use the shirt to cover yourself up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Harrington stood in front of you with wide eyes. “Give a guy warning next time you undress, not that I’m complaining, but I am dating your sister and all so...” He gave a little shrug of the shoulder before you huffed and threw the shirt you were holding at him in a lump.

The cloth didn’t do much when it hit his head except giving him full access to seeing you in only a pair of pants and your bra. “Why the hell are you in my room?”

“You’re the one who gave me permission to use your room to sneak into Nancy’s.” Harrington said as matter-of-factly as he could while tossing the shirt back at you, which you gladly took and threw over your head.

“We need to work on the timing then. You can come in when…” Looking around the room, you saw a stuffed ladybug that had been sitting on the top shelf of your dresser for ages now. “When this bug is in the window, feel free to come in. Nothing before dinner here otherwise you’ll be way too early, and my parents might see you.” You slammed the stuffed bug down before walking back over to your paint corner and staring at the canvas. Now that he was in the room, you didn’t want to deal with him or anything.

“Thanks, I’ll just head over to Nancy’s room now.” You hummed, not really listening until you saw him out of the corner of your eye, until you heard the shower going.

“Wait!” Leaping forward, you grabbed his wrist and stopped him from opening the door. “She’s in the shower, you can’t go in her room.”

“Showering? I’ll just join her.” At the mention of that, you looked over at him in disgust and shuddered at the thought. “What? Never seen a guy shower before?” When you didn’t answer him right away, Harrington stepped away from your door and came closer to you, a cocky little grin in his face when he came into view. “Have you ever seen...a guy naked before?”

You tried so hard to cover the blush on your face as you tried working out an excuse. “Of course, I have, I’m not a person who lives under a rock. I’ve seen a guy before.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t ask that. I asked if you have ever seen a guy naked. As in have you ever slept with a guy?” No response. “Oh ho ho. This is very interesting. You are more a virgin than I thought you were.”

“Shut up.” You growled and shoved him out of your face, moving to grab onto your brush and palette and made a dark line on the piece of pink flesh on the heart. The dark worked as a shadow you were gonna use to emphasize the green that would be used in the next layer, making it look like the roots would be interwoven into the flesh of the heart.

Harrington chuckled as he walked over to your bed and let himself fall backwards into your bed. You didn’t turn around and worked on pulling more life from the heart using small strokes that made them less noticeable.

Up close you could see all of the colors and of course you could see the colors, but even with just the base layers down, you could feel pride bubbling inside of you as you concentrated on keeping your hand steady. “Is this yours?” A voice spoke softly behind you, causing you to jump and a streak of green crossed the right ventricle and cutting through a flower.

A noise of annoyance left your mouth and you let your head fall forward with your brush dropping onto the table next to you. Turning, you saw Harrington hanging over your shoulder with his eyes fixated on what was in front of him. “Yes, Harrington. This is mine.” With a heavy sigh you resigned yourself for the night, not too satisfied with your progress. But keeping a certain guest in your room wasn’t helping you.

Nancy get out of the shower please.

“That’s amazing.” For the second time that night, Harrington caused you to blush. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.” He reaches his hand out to touch it when you grabbed his wrist and pushed it away.

“It’s still wet.” Your words weren’t meant to be harsh, but he didn’t seem to notice as he slowly nodded his head while keeping his eyes fixated on the painting. Noticing that he seemed to enjoy your painting, you pulled the brush back out and dipped it back into the pink. “You can watch if you would like.” You mentioned quietly while keeping your eyes on what you were doing and your back turned to Harrington as he sat back down on the bed.

The moment was kind of serene, odd honestly was the best word, odd to have someone watching you, something you checked every few moments to see if you could ease the tension in your shoulders but he still sat there watching. You’ve had Clare and Matt in the room with you while you paint, but neither of them ever went out of their way to watch your every move and twist of the brush. Even if you were in your environment of comfort and what you wanted to be doing, you didn’t know how you felt about this.

Next door, you finally heard your sister’s door close, signally to you that she was out of the shower, and knowing her, she was already dressed and relaxing on her bed. “You...can climb through to her window now. Or you can go through the hall if you really want to.” Turning slightly, you didn’t look at him other than to see him still watching you before walking over to your backpack and retrieving your sketchbook from it along with some pencils and sat down on your bed, tucking your feet under your body.

Nodding, Steve stood up and thought for a second. “I think I’ll go through the window for now, since Nancy doesn’t know about me coming through here.” You parroted that that was a good idea while you opened your sketchbook and stared at it rather than at Harrington as he climbed his way through the window next to Nancy and left you alone again.

Sighing in relief, you found peace again and let your pencil glide across the paper. The piece didn’t last if you hoped it would as you quickly realized what was forming. “Shit, not again.” The nose was back.

Thinking about it, you didn’t really want to go back to our painting and decided just to deal with the damn nose...again. Until you eventually dozed off, you drew this nose over and over again, working this time only with shading and line work as you took different angles and lighting and perfecting this nose if you could say so.

This nose haunted you until you slipped into your dreams.

-----

Today felt like any other day, started out the same, kept going the same, even lunch was the same, with Matt and Clare arguing and with a new habit that seemed to be forming you bent over your sketchbook while continuing to draw a part of the body. However, you think you out nosed yourself last night, since you had three pages full of this nose. That didn’t stop you from watching as your paper quickly filled with the form of human lips.

“Oh, does Y/N over here want to practice kissing with these lips?” Matt chuckled to himself when he stood up and looked over the top of your easel. “If you really wanted someone to kiss, you coulda just asked, Y/N.”

Clare hopped over to your side of the painting, leaving her own for a second to see what exactly Matt was teasing you about. “Matt, as if any girl would want to kiss you.”

“Cause you keep stealing all the girls.” He winked at her as a rosy blush traveled up her neck before he turned his attention back to you. “Uh, Y/N, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you know that the nose is usually not that close to the mouth, right? Not like right underneath it?”

Matt did point out the simple feature that you had all the knowledge that you were doing. You don’t know what it was, but you just wanted to put the lips there. You didn’t know why, but it was the same reason that led you to agonizing over a nose and a pair of lips these past couple of days. Just to see what happens. Besides there is no perfect face who’s to say this isn’t how this face looks.

“That’s not where the mouth goes.”

“Picasso didn’t follow the lines of society so there’s no reason I have to.” You smiled up at him as you worked more pink into the lips without making it look like the lips had lipstick on. “Besides, I can just...see them there. This is my painting not yours.” Matt gives you a quiet ‘whoa’ as he thinks on what you just said while Clare congratulates you on managing to break your best friend’s mind and gives her a small time of quiet to finish her own piece of work before the bell rings in the next couple of minutes.

Not much silence followed for you when you heard the intercom system activate overhead. “Y/N Wheeler, please report to the front office. Y/N Wheeler to the front office.” Everyone’s head in the room turned to look at you, giving you a look as you slowly stood up, a dark blush running over your face as you quickly as quietly as possible walked out the door and following the hallway to the front office.

In your three years at this school, never had you been called to the front office, and seeing your mother there made you nervous to your stomach. “Mom?” You quietly called her name as you entered the main office and saw her standing there, waiting for you. Looking at her, you knew this wasn’t a happy calling, something confirmed by both her stern look on her face and seeing a shy looking Holly standing behind her leg.

“Y/N, so nice to see you. I’m taking you home.” Her smile looked friendly to any other bystander, but that smile had been shown to you plenty of times when you had to explain your grades, or where you were later at night. This smile meant she was here to deal with business, and you were about to be interrogated until wanting to curl up in bed and just die.

Your mind raced as to why this was happening. Nancy wasn’t here, neither was Mike, so this was only you. Get out. Get out. Run. Get away. You tried figuring out what to do, how to get out of this and the only thing you could think to do was sputter out “Bu-but I need my backpack.” Trying to get away from here, that’s all you could think about.

“Nancy will get your stuff. Now let’s go. Holly still needs to eat lunch and we need to get home, don’t we Holly?” The youngest Wheeler looked up at your mom and gave a small nod, still not moving out from behind her leg.

“I...but mom-” You spoke, but she interrupted.

“Y/N Wheeler, now.” This shut you down, her almost growl and the definite glare she sent at you gave you the opportunity to only respond with a quiet yes ma’am as you followed her out the door.

Matt had told you that being pulled from school early was always a bragging right as it meant skipping classes for the rest of the day. This wasn’t exciting and something you were relishing and going to tell your friends about. You feared what your mother’s temper would say. She never hurt you not physically, but she didn’t hold back with her words.

The car ride back home was absolute hell. Not a word was spoken, even Holly was silent during the ride. You noted how you were riding in your dad’s car, given your family only had two cars and Nancy currently had one at home. Your dad would be home. Maybe he would help you in keeping your mom calm.

“Um, mom?” You asked, trying to alleviate the tension but she wasn’t having any of it.

“Don’t. Say anything until we get home.” Shrinking into the seat, all you can think of doing was melting away, jumping out of the car. Because you have never seen your mother so quiet, she was so quiet that she was lethal; this happened before with our dad, he had done something when you were younger and your mother quietly called your father upstairs to their room before you heard her speaking.

Your mother wasn't screaming, she was a woman who cut down her opponents with her words. Her words were sharper than any weapon, any sword, and that’s what scared you because you were at the receiving end of her words.

And make you wait she did. Holly, your mother, and you walked into the house, completely quiet without Mike downstairs with his friends and Nancy upstairs talking with her friends or Harrington on the phone. And silence made you uncomfortable.

You followed your mom to the kitchen where she rounded the island and planted her hands firmly on the tile countertop. “I got a call from Holly’s school today.” This came out of nowhere, but you couldn’t move or do anything other than stand under your mother’s stare. Holly was sitting at the table with a sandwich in her hand and happily eating her lunch.

Her nails began to tap rhythmically on the countertop. “Her teacher told me that she pushed a little boy off the playground today. I get to the school and they tell me the same thing, and here I am thinking, my sweet little Holly? Why would she do that? Where would she get an idea like that? So, I ask her this exact question. Do you know what she tells me, Y/N?”

The pit in your stomach was a boulder now, you understood what was going on. And your mother wasn’t going to be happy with what you had to say. Slowly you nodded your head, giving her a response with what you knew. “Holly, your little sister Holly, told me that you, her older sister, told her to push that boy off the playset.” Her voice had stayed very level, but her eyes grew Angier and fiery with every word this mother dragon blew from her mouth.

“Mom, I didn’t tell her to push him. She told me he was pulling-” She didn’t let you finish as she slammed her hand down on the counter, causing you to flinch and take a step back.

“You don’t get to justify what you did. You aren’t the one who has to call this little boy’s mother and tell him why your sister pushed him. You aren’t the one who has to tell all her friends that my high school daughter is rebelling against me so much that she is trying to get her little sister in trouble. You, Y/N, are the one that did this, and I have to deal with the consequences of what you’ve done.” Her words rolled off her tongue and stung you, each and everyone.

“But mom, I didn’t mean for that. Holly told ne-”

“Don’t turn this on your sister because you don’t want to get in trouble. I am tired of your behavior recently, Y/N. I am not dealing with this anymore, where is your sketchbook, I’m taking it away from you until I deem it okay for you to get this back.” As she spoke, your heart rate elevated and you began to freak out.

“What? Wait no mom no! It’s a week until the art show! What am I supposed to do for the next week?!”

You could feel our eyes widening as you gestured around the counter, trying to argue with her. Your mom doesn’t do well with people arguing with her. “You can spend time with your family, Y/N. Not lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Then make Nancy do that too! Don’t single me out, mom!”

“Don’t bring your sister into this. Just because you are jealous of her doesn’t mean you can-”

“No mom! I’m not jealous of Nancy! You pretend in your mind that we are the same person, I just happen to be the less pretty, less academically amazing, less perfect daughter! That is not my fault that you put these stupid expectations on me that I never asked for! You can’t single me out in this family just because they are the least successful of your children! That is not fair!”

At this point it was a screaming match between the two of you, words you were holding back were starting to come out of your mouth, but it was like you were drunk and had no filter and no idea when to stop but it was all coming out. Your screaming attracted the attention of your father from his shower upstairs, the raised voices of two women of his household worried the man.

Coming down the stairs, your dad looked into the kitchen and saw Holly sitting in her grilled cheese with her sandwich half eaten while watching you and your mother. Looking further into the kitchen, he found the source of the shouting and quickly worked on diffusing his wife and daughter from murdering each other. “Whoa! Karen, Y/N, what is going on? You two need to calm down.”

“Stay out of this, Ted. Y/N and I are talking.” Your mom growled the last part of that phrase out without breaking eye contact with you. Ted Wheeler was looking between the two of you, he had obviously seen his wife blow up like this, but he had never seen you feed into your mother’s rage. He didn’t know which one had started and he didn’t know which “side” to take, because either way it would not work out well.

“Karen.” He took his wife’s hand and gently squeezed it. “Stop.” He stood his ground, shocking his daughter and wife alike. “Y/N go up to your room. Your mother and I will talk about this.”

“Ted Wheeler.”

“Yes dear?” Your father responded to your mom’s anger and responded with his usual soft and neutral voice. This was your que to leave, to go hide in your room and get away from this horrible place. AS soon as you stepped in, the first thing you thought to do was hide you paint supplies.

Your mom threatened you with taking your art away, but not if you hide it from her. Grabbing hold of your paints, you grabbed six or seven major colors, one that you can make other colors from these along with a few of our brushes. You couldn’t hide everything because your mom would figure out that not everything is there, but if you grab only a few of everything, you would be fine.

Heart pounding, pulse racing, short breaths, you worked as quietly and quickly as you could without alerting your parents of what you were doing.

Footsteps made their way up the stairs, warning you that someone was about to walk into the room. Panicking, you shoved the bucket of few paint supplies up into a corner of your closet and you sat down at the edge of your bed, settling yourself down before your bedroom door opened and your dad stepped in, causing you to look over at him with a sad look on your face. “How mad is she?” You were afraid to ask.

“Well, you said some pretty choice words to your mother, Y/N. So pretty mad.” Groaning, you hid your face in your hands. “She was threatening just to lock you in your room with nothing in here but your bed...but I was able to calm her down enough to just keep you in your room except for meals.”

“So, no art supplies?” He nodded at your question, to which you replied with a sigh. “How long?”

Sitting down next to you, you dad bumped your shoulder with a soft smile on his face. “I told her we can split the idea and make you suffer until Sunday night rolled around.” Sunday was like three days away. That meant those days you didn’t get to work on any of your projects that you had. “Don’t worry, squirt. You can survive this.” The two of you sat together on the bed for a little while longer before he finally stood up and helped you grab your pencils and paints and markers as well as a small stab with taking your work in progress heart away.

Looking at the room now, you felt emptier than the room, there was nothing in the room and that left you feel nothing inside. You saved some of your paints, but without even just the easel in the corner of your room it’s so empty and sad to look at your room. The walls had very few pictures on them, especially the one next to your window that was next to your sister’s room. Staring at the blank wall made your blood boil, boil so much that you blindly grabbed a paintbrush and stepped up to the wall as a butcher walked towards a new body of meat ready to be sectioned off into eatable pieces. Your brush worked as nimble as any scalpel, working with speed at the wall, your mind wasn’t thinking, your body was moving on its own at this point.

And there was no stopping it.

-----

It was only Saturday afternoon and you had two small panic attacks just thinking about the art show coming up. Just because opening night was in like two weeks doesn’t mean that you could turn it in the night the show opened, everything was due this Tuesday, completed, dry and everything. Would you be able to do that by then? Your art teacher had reached out to you and asked you to enter a piece, making you now feeling obligated to enter something. And that something happened to be locked in your parent’s room for the weekend.

Usually when you were antsy or nervous, you would draw or paint, and here you were still. A few colors and pencils but no paper. And lined paper did not agree with you doodling style of drawing erasing and then redrawing, you wore simple paper out too easily. You needed something heavier. And you couldn’t go at the walls again like last night; waking up this morning, you were shocked to see just what you did, quickly pushing your curtains around to hide that part of the wall, leaving your window open to let natural light fill the room you would be spending the next couple of days isolated to.

A light knock at the door, causing you to perk up to thinking hopefully your dad would come in and tell you that your mother slept well, and she was giving you back all your stuff. Not that you were upset or angry at your brother when he walked in, but when you looked at the dark headed boy who stuck half his body through the door, your hope fell away. “Hey Mikey, what’s up buddy?” You gestured him to come fully into the room with you where he plopped down into your desk chair across from your bed.

“Well, um, I wanted to know if you...you could still draw my DnD character? I was just figuring that since you don’t have your big piece to work on right now and I just wanted to see if you could do it now because you’re not busy and you said you would do it in the car a few days ago and I just think you could do a really cool job drawing him and it would be great and my friends might also want you to draw their too and that’s all up to you but if you could at least do mine that would be great and you would be an amazing sister.” His words jumbled out of his in one mess, something he does whenever he gets nervous or excited about something.

You let him ramble a bit through what he wanted, his excitement bringing a smile to your face as you saw just how much he wanted this done, even if he stumbled over his request. He had nothing to worry about in the world. Mike sat there after his long request, finally giving your room to speak. “You done talking, Mike?” You quipped, not meaning it in a mean way as you watch him cough for air. “Of course, I’ll do it for you, buddy. Can I just request something from ya?” His head nodded up and down, his eyes sparkling with excitement at your acceptance. “Get me some paper I can draw on.” He was already out the door when you said paper.

Chuckling to yourself, you went over to your closet and grabbed hold of the box of pencils you kept just in case; staring down at the bright colored Crayola that you weren’t favoring to use, but, it was for your brother and you loved Mikey enough to use these. You heard him scrambling back up the stairs before Mike rushed into your room, gasping for air as he held out some paper, he grabbed from the printer downstairs to you. You took the paper from him and laid it on top of one of your schoolbooks.

Pencils out next to you, paper at the ready, a semi sturdy workspace, you were ready. “Alright, Mike, what does this paladin of yours look like?”

The two of you sat there for a long period of time, which honestly slipped away from you as you did your best to draw a person, since you still haven’t gotten any better at it since your fascination with the nose and lips, but you still did your best as he animatedly told you about how Elias the Esteemed stood, how he was a lawful good paladin who only did what was just even when the other characters in the party would be annoyed by his upright behaviors.

While you were drawing, you asked him to tell you stories about his friends adventures, and he so happily did; he told you about how they spent almost twelve hours fighting to save a princess and the others thought his character was being stupid for trusting an evil goblin when a fairy offered to help them until it turned out that the fairy was evil and was the one trying to kill the princess to get enteral youth. Just from watching your little brother speak, you could tell that he absolutely adores what he and his friends do every weekend.

There was something that just brought joy to you when you saw someone radiate passion about something they love. And you saw this in your little brother as he told you story upon story of the renegades his friend group was.

Passion speaks louder than simple descriptions or words. These stories gave an idea of how the paladin held himself, why he swung left handed and not right, stupid little things than made you draw Mike’s character in such a way that to you, it would make him feel more alive and ready to jump off the page, ready to fight for the sake of any princess in need.

It was getting near dinner time when you finished, though you had been done for a bit of time, instead keeping this time to yourself. In this family, quality time was few and far between, and being with your brother brought happiness to your...rough weekend. And it was quickly shattered into pieces when you heard the call for dinner. Mike quickly stopped talking and looked towards your door before glancing back at you.

“Let’s get going then, Sir Eliad the Esteemed. Let us go feast after this glorious victory.” You turned the portrait over to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders as the two of you headed down the stairs to join the rest of your family.

You kept to yourself for the rest of the evening, but really it was the rest of your family that didn’t come to see you. Your mother and you weren’t really on speaking terms, Holly wasn’t allowed near you after you “told her to push a boy off the playground”, and your father was passed out in front of the TV. Nancy had asked your mom if she could run up to the store and buy some ice cream, leaving the whole upper level of the house to yourself and there was nothing for you to do with it all.

So here you were again, staring at your ceiling as you twirled one of the pencils you still had out around your finger in complete and utter boredom. How could anyone live like this? You have been left alone with yourself and your thoughts for a full day and you were already ready to kill yourself. Looking around, you found yourself staring at the small stuffed ladybug sitting in your window, something to which you looked at curiously.

It was the weekend and you hadn’t seen Steve try and climb through your weekend since Thursday evening. Granted it was only a day ago, but you were curious as to why your sister and her boyfriend didn’t take this time to be theirs and spend time together. Hmm. At least he wasn’t walking in while you were changing into your pajamas again.

Speaking of pajamas, might as well get them on since you obviously weren’t going to be going anywhere tonight that would require proper clothing, so you pulled your pants off from the day and pulled on your pajamas bottoms before tugging your shirt off and over your head.

“Wheeler, we might wanna consider buying ladder.” A voice spoke up behind you, cause you to scream and drop the shirt you were holding onto the ground before turning around.

“What the hell, Harrington?!” You shouted at him, thanking the lord that you were alone on this level otherwise your mother would have stormed in here before you could say the boy’s name.

The brunette looked at you with a look on his face that you couldn’t read but you could have sworn you saw a quick blush appear on his cheeks before you remembered that you were in fact putting on your pajamas and he yet again came barging in on you. “Okay, this was your fault. I checked and the ladybug is there, so I thought I could come in.”

You stumbled over a few words before you gave up ad scoffed at him before putting your shirt over your head. “I thought you had just died because you weren’t here last night, so I assumed I was free of you sneaking into my window. Forgive me for being hopeful.”

“Aw, come on Wheeler, you know you would miss me if I just left you behind.” He smiled at you and sat down next to you on your bed, bouncing you up and down ever so slightly with his weight being added to the bed.

You muttered to yourself as you pushed your pencils away, “You have no idea.” And there you sat, the two of you in quiet silence, where you stared out the window at the trees next to your house, fireflies were beginning to emerge, lighting up the yard.

“Did you finish that painting?” Harrington asked you, to which you replied with a hum. “Your heart and flower painting that you had over there? Did you finish it?”

“Oh, um…” You pulled your lips between your teeth, because he had no right to really know about it, but he was asking, but why did you want to tell him? You ignored the questions and just rolled with it. “My mom...more or less grounded me for the weekend and took my stuff away from me, so I’m stuck here without anything to work on.” He gave you a look that you only responded to with a shrug.

He scoffed. “Wow, take a painter away from her painting.” Looking over, he saw your pencils tossed onto your desk. “You any good with pencils?”

“I mean yeah, paint is what I want to work with, but as long as I can put it to paper, I can use it.” When you answered his question, he nodded before he pulled something from his backpack that you didn’t notice he had until now. “What are you doing?” Your brows were quirked as you watched him bring back out a notebook. A sketchbook actually.

Your face had a look of shock on it, bringing him to smile at you. “Calm down, Wheeler. I can see the boredness in your eyes and I have this book. Mess around with it, I’m sure as hell not using it.” Your words caught in your throat as you stared down at the notebook that was now in your lap.

“Um...thanks, Harrington.” You stood up and grabbed the pencils you had honestly not really knowing what to do with this newly given gift. “Do you...want me to draw you anything?” You asked.

Harrington looked up at you, a look deep in thought on his face before he turned to you and asked, “I want you to draw me like a cartoon character.” Hearing this, you were surprised at his request, even voicing this confusion yourself. “You know like Fred from Scooby Doo? Draw me something like him. All attractive and suave.” He grinned up at you, his dark eyes twinkling as he waited for your answer to his request.

“I...don’t really do animation. I’m more of an emotion led artists and this isn’t really-”

He interrupted you. “Well then I guess I’ll be having my notebook back.” He held his hand out to you, but you held the book to your own chest shaking your head. “Thought so, now get drawing, Wheeler.” You were honestly taken aback by him sitting here and demanding things from you.

Almost stupidly, you sat down in the chair sitting in front of him and grabbed a pencil, the black one, one that you were using in his outline. Animation was more your style, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to be drawing right now, you found that drawing Harrington animatedly was easier than real life but there was still a learning curve for you.

You drew his face in very simple lines. His jaw came down into a subtle, but he did have a square face overall, deciding to accentuate the shape of his face while adding a slight chin to make sure he didn’t have just a square for his head. His ears were pretty flush to his head, so you didn’t bother and just hid them behind his hair.

Oh, the hair. You grabbed the brown pencil and moved to try and find a way to translate the Hairs hair onto paper and it wasn’t working that well. There is a reason Harrington was known for his long and fluffy hair, and boy was it hard to find a way to get the curls and the wisps onto the paper without making it seem like stray pencil marks.

You needed to tell your sister to tame her boyfriend’s eyebrows because they needed help, he was a few hairs away from unibrow. One had a sort of arch with some stray hairs underneath it and the other looked like a caterpillar. So, you decided to fix them on paper, and you gave him some damn good-looking eyebrows if you do say so yourself. Moving on, you stared at his eyes, and you finally noticed that he was staring back at you just as intently as you were, only he didn’t have a reason to be watching you. Maybe it was because he was staying still for you, but his gaze was a little unnerving. So instead of wanting to put focus on the small flecks of individual colors that made of his warm brown eyes, you grabbed the brown pencil again and just quickly drew a brown blob at the center of each eye and called it that.

His nose was in two sweet and small motions, choosing to ignore drawing the slight crook midway down his nose. It was a simple nose, given that you knew almost every turn by now after drawing it multiple times.

Your head shot up with your eyes wide at this, the pencil in your hand had stopped as you stared at Harrington’s nose. It was there, the nose. The one you had been drawing all week. There it was. The tweak at the top of the nose, the small button at the tip, the small and light freckles that lined the bridge of his nose. They were all there in front of you and you had no clue what to do with this new information.

It couldn’t be. Why the hell would you be drawing Harrington’s nose? There was no reason you had ever looked at him for more than five minutes total since the time he and Nancy started dating.

But there were the lips. The lips too. They were right there. Staring at you with all the swings and curves and pink tone with reds in it that you had been trying to copy since yesterday morning. The two of them were staring right at you. The face they belonged to was sitting in front of you and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

A hand snaps in front of your face, one of its fingers striking your nose gently. “Wheeler? You still in there?” You shook your head, clearing your brain of the fog that took you over.

“Yeah, sorry.” Quickly pulling the sketchy book closer to your face, you hid your warm face from where he could see you and quickly drew his lips in, completely ignoring your racing mind as you drew the outline and colored in his clothes on the way down, noting his denim jacket, T-shirt and a pair of jeans. On top of a pair of sneakers that you had never really seen him not wear before.

From the face you took time to get the feeling of Harrington into the drawing, you quickly rushed through the rest of him, producing a finished product in less than five minutes and handing it over to him. “Here you go. Sorry if it’s not like Fred enough for you, but I’m not really an animator or anything.”

Harrington looked over the paper you handed him; his face blank as he took in everything from the sheet of paper. The anticipation in your stomach grew every second he just stared at what you produced, wanting to be affirmed in what you had done, the ever challenging part of being like you, was that you didn’t know it but you needed the affirmation of how well you did. And for some reason, especially right now.

“Wow, Wheeler, you could open one of those street drawing stand things and have people pay you for these.” He gave you a quick smile before tucking the paper into his backpack between some of his school books. Looking at his books, you quickly remembered where you were and what he was doing here.

“Why aren’t you with Nancy right now?” You questioned and he quickly muttered to himself.

He fiddled with his zipper before turning back to you, fiddling didn't fit his persona. “I just assumed she was taking a shower again since you didn’t kick me out.”

You quirked an eyebrow at his response. “If I remember last time, you were half out the door ready to join my sister. I didn’t think you needed my permission to go see your own girlfriend. Much less have sex with her if you want to.” He scoffed at your remark, you bringing a smile to his face.

“Good to know I have Nancy’s little sister’s permission to sleep with her next door to you.” He slings his backpack back onto his back as he makes this comment.

“Whoa whoa, I didn’t mean that wait-Harrington I didn’t mean that!” He was already out the window by the time your confused brain caught up to you. “Great, now all I’m gonna hear is them having sex.” You muttered angrily to yourself as you slammed the window closed behind him.

Because what else would you want to hear besides your sister and her boyfriend screaming in pleasure at each other.

Looking around the room, you saw the sketchbook sitting on your desk. The sketchbook that Harrington gave you.

Steve Harrington. “Oh God.” You gasped out as it all fell around you. You fell back against the wall behind you, slipping down until you were seated, your brain finally caught up to you and the panic settled in. “Holy crap, holy crap. What have I done?”

His nose. That was it. He had your nose that you had been drawing. You found the face. And you didn’t like this at all.

You have been drawing your sister’s boyfriend's nose obsessively. And you couldn’t explain why.

Your heart rate increased.

Breathing became short, curt, and rapid.

Your vision was getting a little fuzzy around the edges as you tried rapidly blinking.

Chest was heaving, but no air was getting in.

You were having a fucking panic attack and there was no one here to help you.

You have to remember how to breathe on your own.

How do you even breathe?

You were alone, and your body couldn’t remember how to breathe.

You were alone and you couldn’t breathe

You couldn’t alone and you were breathe.

Alothe.

Brone.

Your panic took you over and you fell over onto your carpeted floor, passed out and afraid of what you now know.

-----

Monday morning finally came, to your mother coming into your room and calling you awake. Last night you finally got all of your supplies back and you were doing everything you could to make up for the lost weekend you had planned to use for painting. You stayed up until 3am, until your body was shutting itself down. You had seen Harrington come through your room and go, not giving him much to talk about this time around. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted with how little time you had left.

And when that three am mark rolled around, your brain couldn’t tell what was pink from green and you almost painted a giant line through the heart. So, you slept, for three hours your body rested and reset itself.

And it was rudely interrupted by your mom telling you it was Monday and you had to go to school. As you got dressed, you thought through how long it would take you to finish. All the colors were on the page, no white remained thankfully, but the flowers still needed life, they needed depth so that they were not 2D.

You could take the picture with you to school. But when would you work on it? And you wanted to keep this all a big reveal. Your teachers sure as hell wouldn’t allow you to work on it instead of their own class.

You could stay home. But how the hell was that supposed to work? Knowing your mother, you sure couldn’t get her to allow you to stay home for a reason as stupid as a painting.

But what if she didn’t know you were home?

An idea formed in your mind as you threw your hair up in a ponytail and walked over to your sister’s door before knocking on it. She called you in. “Y/N?” Nancy was confused when you walked in. “What do you want?”

“Nancy, I have a huge favor to ask of you. Can you please leave me here at home? I need to stay back and finish working on my painting and I don’t have enough time tonight. I promise I will do whatever you want, I will do your chores, your homework, I don’t know but please, Nancy, I really need this.” You pleased with her, throwing all your sincerity as you can into your words.

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, her eyes darting back and forth between yours, looking for something, though you don’t really know what. “You owe me if I do this.” You gasped in relief at her words and surged forward, throwing your arms around your sister’s shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much Nancy. Oh my gosh I owe you so much right now. Thank you.” You held her tight in a hug, ignoring how she didn’t return the hug, but you were just too elated at this moment to care. “Okay, I’ll like get in the car with you and at the stop sign at the end of the road, I’ll just jump out and run home.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care.” She wiggles slightly as she wants you to release her, making you let go and rush out of her room.

You did as you said. Wished your parents goodbye after breakfast, got into the car for a short time before telling Mike to keep quiet and you ran home.

That was the easy part. What Harrington didn’t tell you was that climbing up the wall of the house wasn’t as easy as it sounded, and you ate dirt twice before you finally made it up to your window. You thanked your past self for leaving the window open, not knowing how you would have managed it to try and get that window open from the outside.

But you were inside now, and all you had to do for the rest of the day before your sister got back was be quieter than a mouse. And with painting, that wasn’t too hard for you: standing on your feet without moving was something you got used to. But this time, you couldn’t just tune the world out, you had to make sure that your mother didn’t walk in to find you here and not at school.

So, you went in painting, pulling out your paint palette and container of paints, you began working. Mixing, painting, brushing, applying the paint, you stood for hours, ignoring your stomach as it called for food around lunch time. Moving only one, and that was because you dropped a paint brush and needed to step forward a little bit. The other time was when you heard your mother coming up the stairs.

Your first urge was to scream when you heard her. It was almost like a horror movie with the murderer coming closer to the victim and the victim had nowhere to go. Where to go, what do you hide in? Would she even come in here? Of course, she would, she’s your mother! Looking around, the best you could think of with the footsteps getting slowly closer was under your bed, because you were basic and asking to be killed.

You dove and as quietly as you could, you shoved yourself under the bed, not realizing how cramped it would be down there, it wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be but you still were able to get yourself underneath before you watched the door swing open. Her heeled feet walked in, followed closely by the vacuum behind her, which she plugged in and quickly went to work.

All you could do was sit there, waiting, watching as the vacuum came closer, going away, closer, away. So on and so forth, but you would hear the occasional mutter from your mom about how filthy you kept this room, and how you need to put your paints away and not leave it lying out all day. From where you were lying, you could see her jostling things around above you, but nothing seemed to give away your still being home.

Looking around the room, you took inventory of what a bug must feel like, seeing everything so big and far away. Your dresser, bookshelves, even your backpack was massive from where you were. Crap. Your eyes widened as your mother grabbed your backpack from the ground. You were supposed to have your backpack at school right now, and it was sitting on your floor for your mother to see.

Shit shit shit shit shit! You screamed in your head with your hand clamped over your mouth as you waited for your mom to find you, catch you, and never let you see the light of day again. Something bounced off your bed. “Y/N needs to stop leaving her backpack home and start taking it with her.” Those were the last things you heard your mom say before she turned and dragged the vacuum behind her out the door, shutting it behind her before moving down the hall to your brother’s room.

A heavy sigh left your body as you felt relief rush over you knowing that you were safe from getting caught. And with that, you pulled yourself out from under the bed, squeezing a little bit at the hips, but finding yourself free from dust. You didn’t have much more of a thought to yourself other than getting more of the painting done before you could call it a day and finally finish it all off with a quick signature at the bottom.

A few more hours of you working passed before you heard your sister come back home. Just in time too. You had the biggest smile on your face as you painted the last brush stroke at the bottom. “Y/N Wheeler.” You were finished. Finally! Mike cried out that he was home and then promptly called how he was heading over to Dustin’s house. Opening your door, you wanted to make your way over to Nancy to thank her again, wanting to know what she wanted in return.

Opening your door, you saw Nancy had beaten you to it and was standing outside your door. “Nancy! I just wanted to say than-” Your smile and happiness quickly went away when Nancy shoved past you, cutting you off.

“Why was Steve asking about you?” Her question confused you, which you voiced, asking her what she was talking about. “Steve! My boyfriend! All he could do was ask me about you and why you weren’t at school and how you were enjoying your new notebook and then he went on to show me the cartoon you drew of him. When did you draw him? Why are you hanging around my boyfriend?!”

“Whoa, Nancy, I wasn’t hanging around him. I haven’t done anything. I don’t even talk to Harrington.”

“Then why does he have this drawing?” And to prove it to you, she pulled the silly drawing out you did a few nights ago, where Harrington asked you to draw him like Fred.

Looking at the paper, there was honestly nothing you could think of wrong with the situation. “Nancy, for like the past week, he has been using my window to sneak in and out of the house because he was almost caught by mom. I offered to let him use my room to slip through. You were busy or something like two nights ago and he was sitting in here waiting for you to finish and he told me to draw him like Fred from Scooby-Doo.”

“He’s been sneaking through your room?! You suggested this? Y/N what the hell have you been doing with my boyfriend in my room?” Nancy was screaming at you at this point, alerting your mother that the two of you were home when she called up the stairs for you two to stop yelling.

You were getting frustrated at this point, “Nancy! No! I haven’t been doing anything with your boyfriend! I’m not even interested in the asshole!”

“Then why did I find you drawing his face in your notebook?!” Once again trying to prove you were in the wrong, she showed you more papers, the ones from your sketchy book that were in fact of Harrington’s face that you found out the other night.

“Where did you get those? Nancy, that's from my notebook, where did you get that?” Your failed attempt to grab the papers from her led to her getting all in your face.

“And why were they in there?! Why! Y/N why are you hitting on my boyfriend?! Is nothing sacred for me?! All you do is walk around this house, painting, and drawing and being a goody little two shoes! You are a complete bitch Y/N! I work my ass off for my grades, to be great in school, to have an amazing boyfriend! And you are trying to steal him from me!” She kept getting louder and louder, screaming at you and stomping her feet and making more and more accusations towards you that you didn’t understand.

“Nancy, I know how it looks but I was just-”

She walked dangerously close to your painting, her flailing arms almost hitting it right off the easel. “You were what, Y/N?”

“Please be careful, Nancy, the paint is still wet.” Reaching out, you grazed her hand, hoping to calm her down but she ripped it away from you.

“Oh, is this what you care about? Let me show you what you’ve done to me, Y/N. What happens if I do this?!” Before you could react, her hand flew and shot its way through the canvas, punching a huge hole into the painting you just finished not moments ago.

“No!” You screamed in horror, staring at the hole she hit through the flowers atop and intertwined amongst the heart. Your own heart broke and your body had no idea what to do besides just scream.

Footfalls stormed up the stairs and Karen Wheeler charged into the room. “Y/N Wheeler, what are you screaming about, that is completely uncalled for!”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked to your mother for help. “Mom, Nancy she...look mom!”

“Mom! Y/N has been flirting with my boyfriend and cheating with him behind my back! And she skipped school today!” Nancy’s face had rage written all over it, nothing compared to the absolute shattered feeling you felt.

“Mom wait no please. I-” you tried explaining, but your mother had heard enough, and she spun on you.

“I can’t believe I ever raised a daughter like you, Y/N. I am completely disappointed in you. Steve is your sister’s boyfriend. And I’m talking to your father when he gets home about you missing school. Apologize to your sister right now.” Your mom was angry, you could tell, but you were hoping you could argue with her. “Don’t argue with me, Y/N! I guess locking you in your room isn’t enough for you to learn your lesson anymore. Your father will be hearing about this, young lady, you can be sure of that.”

She was gone, your mother left you in the room with your sister, going downstairs and angrily muttering to herself. Looking over to your sister, she saw she was still angry on her face, with a sickening smirk on her face. “What...have I ever done to you, Nancy? All I have ever done is try to be your little sister. All I want is for my big sister to guide me, be a role model. I just want you to love me, Nancy.” Tear tracks raced their way down your face as you stared at your sister, if you could even call her that anymore. Not after what she did to what she knew you loved doing and had worked so hard on.

“Why would I ever love the sister that made my parents split their love up?” Nancy’s voice came out as a growl and followed your mother, slamming your door behind her.

Your body finally gave out and you fell to your knees before curling up and letting our sobs ring through the room, screaming at one point all the pain out of your chest. Your mother yelled at you again, but you didn’t listen, you kept crying at the pain in your chest, the same pain that showed through the tear in the still wet painting.

------

“Karen, we should talk to her before we keep punishing her. She is going to hate us if we keep doing this.” Ted Wheeler was trying to talk some sense to his wife while walking up the stairs to his daughter’s room.

“Ted, I think it’s time we discipline her my way. You have been going too easy on her these last few years and she’s fighting back. I don’t like people fighting against me, Ted.” Karen Wheeler gave her husband a look that told him to be quiet while she did the talking, he was there to be a point of authority and trick you into listening to your mother.

Nodding, your father grabbed the door handle into your room and pushed the door open. “Y/N, sweetie. We wanted to talk to you.” The husband and wife opened the door and expected to find you sitting on your bed or standing in front of your painting that the two of them have known you have been working on endlessly lately.

But the room was empty. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/N?” Karen took a step into the room, checking behind the door to see if you were standing there. “Y/N, I don’t want to deal with your games right now. Get out here young lady.” The woman checks under the bed, in the closet, but you weren’t in either of those places. “Ted, I don’t see-” Turning around, Karen Wheeler saw her husband standing in front of what looked to be the artwork you were working on. She stepped closer, looking around her husband's shoulder and her eyes widened when she saw what was before her.

It was a beautiful painting. The dark background may look black for one second, but when looking deeper at it, there were the light colors of white and grey in the background, creating an open ribcage around what is the centerpiece of the painting: a red heart. The heart had amazing detail, veins and fat tissue where you would suppose it would go. Green things ran along the heart as well, but it wasn’t as easy as it was before to tell that there was a bouquet of flowers emerging from the main openings of the heart because where the flowers once were was now a giant hole ripped through the canvas.

Karen Wheeler was rarely shocked at being speechless, yet here she was with her hand pressed to her mouth in awe at what she was looking at. It was beautiful but broken. While she stared at this, Ted had gone to the door and called somebody’s name down the hall. “Is this what she has been working on?” Her words came out breathless and airy. “It’s so beautiful.”

Ted nodded as he looked around the room, waiting for who he called before something caught his eye behind the curtain that was being blown around the open window. “Did you call me, dad?” Nancy stepped into the door confused.

“Nancy, do you know what happened to your sister’s painting?” Karen turned to her eldest daughter, her pride and joy, before her husband could, who had pushed a curtain away to see more of what he was looking at.

Looking over, Nancy shrugged. “She deserved it. I told you mom, she was che-”

“Nancy, I’m not asking for what she did to you. Did you do this to her painting?” Nancy looked around the room, not wanting to look at her mother, but giving a slight nod. “Nancy Wheeler! You know what painting means to your sister!”

“But mom, she doesn’t-”

“No Nancy! You aren’t in the right here. Y/N could have hit on your boyfriend, which I want to verify with your boyfriend, but that does not give you the right to destroy what Y/N has spent weeks working on.”

“Karen.” Ted called over to his wife.

“Nancy Wheeler, you are in a big deal of trouble right now and I don’t want to see you. You have severely hurt your sister and I am extremely upset with you.” Nancy looked away from Karen, her face flushed with red as she left the room, not feeling too hot that she had been turned on by her parents.

“Karen,” Ted called again, to which she finally turned back to him. “Look.”

Written on the wall, in black paint was line after line of your handwriting. “Failure. Stupid. Y/N Wheeler is useless. Not pretty like Nancy. Not smart like Mike. Not loveable like Holly. Matt is friendlier than Y/N. Clare is emotionally stable. Stupid. Failure. Shit. Y/N Wheeler is shit. The world won’t stop. Nobody here. Noone wants me. Unwanted. Unloved. No difference. No change without. Gone. She is gone. Y/N Wheeler isn’t wanted. She isn’t going to want. “

“Oh my god.” Karen gasped again, tears prickling at her eyes as she turned away, not wanting to see anymore as she looked around the room. “Y/N? Sweetheart please!” She looked at the closet again and saw your shoes were gone. Your shoes and one of your jackets were missing. “Ted. Ted! She’s gone! Y/N’s gone! Our little girl is gone, she's gone.” Her words sputtered out of her mouth as she fell into her husband’s arms, her face and cries falling into his shoulders as he led her over to where your phone sat on your desk.

“Hawkin’s police department.” Flo’s voice asked through the phone, she sounded bored rightly so since nothing happens in this small town.

“Flo, this is Ted Wheeler.” He held the phone to his other ear so that his wife wasn’t crying near it. “Pass me through to Chief Hopper. Our daughter is missing.”

-----

“Y/N!”

“Y/N Wheeler!”

“How many Y/N’s do you know, Lucas?” Mike looked over to his friend; the three of them had been out for the last two, maybe three hours, calling out your name, much to Dustin’s chargin when his voice started cracking and hurt from screaming.

“Well I’m sorry I just wanted to say something other than your sister’s name.” Lucas called back to the only male child of the Wheeler family. “Mike, we’ve rode back and forth across this damn road so many times, I can count how many pedals it takes to get from one side to the other.”

Mike ignored his friends' complaints as he kept calling out your name, hoping that as they kept doing this loop that you would call back out to him. Come running out of the woods. Just come home. “Y/N!”

Across town, your parents were looking just as hard as your little brother. Your mother had removed her heels and stockings and skirt for a pair of sleep pants your father had and some sneakers she found in your room that would fit. Never in your wildest dreams could you imagine that your mother would be trekking through the muddy, dirty woods, especially for the likes of you. “Y/N!” Your mother called out, moving the flashlight back and forth as she tried seeing any sign of you in the woods near your house.

“Karen, sweetheart. We won’t be able to find her out here, it’s nearly midnight. It’s too dark for us to make a difference in the search.” Ted reached forward and gently grabbed his wife’s elbow, hoping he could guide her home. He had been out here with her, calling your name and looking at every possible place you could be hiding.

Karen looked back at her husband and in the glare of the flashlight off him, he could see her eyes filled with worry, shame, frustration. “Ted, I’m the reason she is out here. And I want to be here when we find her.”

Mr. Wheeler nodded his head, tugging a little harder on her elbow before she let herself be pulled into her husband’s embrace. The two of them stood in the middle of the woods, a mile or so away from your house, holding each other as they worried for their lost daughter. “Come on, dear. I’m sure we can look a little longer. Maybe she’s just a little farther ahead.” She nodded her head at Ted and the two of them continued forward. “Y/N!”

Back at home, Nancy was sitting in the living room with Holly drawing in front of her while she went over flashcards for her AP exam coming up. “Nancy?” At hearing her name, the young girl looked up. “Where’s Y/N? I didn’t get to paint with her today.”

She scoffed. “What is with this family and Y/N? She’s not here, Holly.” The last part, Nancy spoke louder so that the youngest Wheeler would hear her.

“Where is she? I miss her.” Holly said it so nonchalantly as she kept drawing on her little page. Nancy glowered down at the little girl before she stood up, ordering Holly to stay there and that she would be right back. Walking into the kitchen, she picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number.

“Hello?” Her boyfriend's voice came through the receiver and she felt like she could smile for the first time since she got home that day.

“Hey, Stevie. Wanna come over? My parents aren’t home and thought that we could get some alone time in.” She leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, getting a look to see that Holly hadn’t moved an inch.

Steve took a second to respond. “Sure, babe why are they out of the house. They just had a date night.”

“Oh, Y/N up and ran off and they’re off looking for her like a manic. She’ll be home soon I’m sure. It’s what she gets.” Nancy rolled her eyes at her own statement. “So, you wanna come over?”

She heard a release of breath on the other end. “God, Nancy. Your sister is missing, and you want me to come over? Please tell me you are calling me to help your family look for her.”

“Steve Harrington. What are you talking about? Steve Harrington you are my boyfriend, not my sister’s boyfriend or best friend.” Nancy growled into the phone ready to go off on the phone to her ear, but he cut her off.

“No, Nancy. I am not someone who dates a girl who ignores her sister, who hurts her sister on a daily basis by not even looking or caring about her.” His words caught her off guard, truly they did because here it was again, her little sister coming back to claim what is originally Nancy’s. “Nancy unless you tell me this is some sick joke, I’m sorry but we are done.”

Nancy Wheeler had nothing to say and was even more in shock when she heard the dial tone ringing in her ear. “Steve? Steve? Hello?” Nancy stood at the phone and tried ringing him back up, with no answer. In the living room, Holly hummed to herself as she continued moving her marker back and forth across the paper, so excited for mommy to get home and to give her a new painting of the family.

“Y/N!” It had been hours since the sun had fully gone down and at least five hours since Hopper got the initial call. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in Hawkins, never has before Will went missing a couple years back. “Y/N Wheeler!” Hopper called again into the night, shining his flashlight around the exterior of the fence of Hawkins lab, trying to see if anything would connect another strange event from the Upside Down to you.

The lab has been quiet for a while, so it didn’t connect why you would have gone missing. And it sounded like it wasn’t a missing persons case and instead was a kid running away from home. His eyes were barely hanging open at this point and he had used up his last cigarette over an hour ago, so he needed a kick to get him going that he didn’t have.

He didn’t want to, but Chief Hopper knew when to quit and now was the time. Grabbing his radio, he called out to Powell and Callahan on his radio. “Yeah boss?”

“I’m calling it for tonight. We will keep searching for the girl tomorrow when we get some shut eye and the sun is up.” Hopper mumbled into his radio as he did one last sweep of the area around him before he turned back around and headed for his truck.

“Will do boss.” Something clicked in Hopper’s mind before he signed off for the evening. “You say something else, boss?”

“Yeah, make sure Ted and Karen get home safe, I don’t need more civilians out getting lost.” The three police officers finished their pleasantries and signed off until the morning when they promised the three of them would be back out at eight am on the dot. This left Hopper to wander the woods alone with his own thoughts and the quiet around him back to his car and head back home to Eleven and some Eggos waffles fresh outta the toaster.

Hopper gripped his steering wheel with one hand while the other he used to rub his face of the stress this evening has caused. He enjoys his work, he really does. Helping the community and everything, but the max he wants to worry about is thieves from the local pharmacy because the local teenagers wanted to get high on Nyquil. No missing kids who run away from home. No monsters. No kids who have been experimented on their entire lives.

First Joyce’s kid, now one of the Wheeler’s daughters too. Whatever happened to kids listening to their parents and staying home? “I swear, if Eleven even thinks about disappearing like that on me, I’ll turn this state topside.” With a slam of the door, Hopper looked up to his little cabin, something he found when he was a young stupid kid and later in life would convert into a home for himself away from the life of Hawkins. Now it was his permanent home for him and his new daughter.

“El, I’m home.” Hopper ducked his head into the door frame, looking over to the coat rack that he placed his hat upon the coat rack before making his way into the kitchen right next to the door. “I hope you didn’t eat all of the waffles while I was gone.” He quipped with a smile on his face; he didn’t hear her respond, which he was glad about since she should be in bed, like he wanted to be. But Jim needed something in his belly.

He hummed to himself a little tune he heard on the radio on his way over, not knowing what the song was, but it was here in his head and it didn’t seem to appear to be leaving any time soon. This ditty stuck with him as Jim Hopper pressed a little extra butter into the crevices of the waffle and smothering it in syrup, the best way to eat waffles honestly. Grabbing his plate, Hopper decided in his head which channel he was going to watch tonight before he turned in only to get up at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow.

Stepping into his living room, Hopper jumped in surprise when he saw Eleven staring at him with a straight face. “Jesus, El, you should have said something while I was in the kitchen, I thought you were asleep by now.” Eleven kept her gaze upon her father figure as he rounded the couch and saw another thing he was not expecting.

El was sitting on the couch in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, but she wasn’t alone. Hopper nearly dropped his waffles when he saw you, passed out on his couch, your head laying on El’s lap as she ran her fingers through your hair, which was sopping wet, as were your clothes. “Eleven. How did she get here?” Jim fell into his armchair, his plate of waffles laying on his lap and his jaw dropped down nearly as far.

“She knocked.” El stated curtly, her eyes looking to Hopper a second more before she turned her head to look back down at you. “She’s Mike’s sister.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the Wheeler’s daughters. I’ve been looking for her all night. When did she get here?” Hopper moved his body forward to see more of her surrogate daughter and you.

“At 9-4-9. Why is she so sad, Hopper?” She completely disregarded his own questions and comments and began pegging her own at him. “I can see her thoughts. She’s so sad. Why? She has Mike. I can’t have Mike but I’m not sad.”

Hopper sighed after hearing this, he never poked into other people’s affairs, but he had a feeling he might have to talk to your family when he got you home. “I...I don’t know El.” The young teen nodded her head, her hand still running over your hair.

The group of three sat there in quiet silence, El stroking your hair as you slept on while Hopper sat deep in thought of what he should do next. He was thinking, but he could not stopwatch his daughter and how she acted around you. He saw that you were still wet, though it did seem like you were slowly drying off, hopefully you wouldn’t get sick because of this.

Placing the now empty plate down, Hopper stood up with his mind made on what he was going to do. “Come on, El. It’s past your bedtime, bud.”

“But I want to stay-” With a raise of his hand, Hopper stopped the young girl from speaking.

“I’ll stay with her, El. Don’t worry.” The chief walked over and gave her shoulder a gentle pat on the shoulder as he helped guide her out from under your head. “Be careful with her, I’m sure she’s had a rough night.”

Going into her room Hopper gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, to which she gave the customary comment “scratchy” with a smile on her face as she commented on his beard against her skin. With a chuckle, Hopper shut the door behind him with El flicking the lights off herself, leaving him in the main room of the cabin. The man signed deeply as he ran his hands over his face roughly, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes and wake himself up just a bit.

He took a rather ungracefully seat next to your head, hoping his jostling of the couch would wake you up, but you only shifted at his added weight. Jim Hopper sighed again and moved his hand over to your shoulder, gently shaking it. “Come on, kid. I need you to wake up for me.” His already gruff voice as gruffer and deeper from exhaustion as well as how quiet he was being. “Kid, you gotta get up.”

You finally started to move, letting out a groan at being woken up, your body shivering under his warm hand. The groan quickly moved into a gasp as you shot upright with your eyes wide like an animal Hopper has seen hunting before. You quickly pulled away from his hand, almost like he had burned you and pressed yourself against the armrest of the couch as your eyes greedily took in the room you were in.

“Hey, hey kid, calm down. It’s me Hopper.” He watched as your eyes came to focus on him, your eyes rapidly moving, and your chest was heaving. “Calm down, kid. You’re safe. It’s Chief Hopper. You’re safe.” His hands were in front of him, a simple signal of peace between the two of you as you slowed your breathing down and started blinking, your eyes rapidly seeming to come back into focus.

“Ch-chief Hopper?” Your voice came out a little hoarse, surprising you at the weakness behind your own voice. “Wh-what...where am I?”

“You’re in my cabin, kid. Bout twenty miles from any form of civilization.” Hopper kept his place on the couch, letting you settle yourself into a cross legged position that seemed more comfortable, though not fully at ease. “Wanna tell me how you ended up over here? And why you’re sopping wet?”

His comment caused you to look down at yourself, just now noticing that you were in fact wet. “I...I don’t really remember. I just was running through the woods out by my house, and I guess I just...wait, I think I fell into a creek or something before I found this place. Yeah, I fell into some creek, and it was freezing water, so I...don’t remember much after that…” You looked down as you tried remembering just how you got here.

“Well kid, you somehow made it from one end of Hawkins to the other. You’re almost outside of the city limits.”

“What? Wait what time is it?” Your eyes widened again, and you quickly jumped off the couch, making a move towards the door.

“Hold up, kid.” Hopper grabbed your forearm as you moved past him, stopping you and reversing your path to lead you back down to sitting next to him, this time placing you closer to him. “You know you caused a lot of trouble around town.” Your shoulders sank when he mentioned this, followed by a quiet apology that he waved away. “I don’t care, you’re fine, I know where you are. Now, wanna explain this to me?” Feeling around his pockets, Hopper produced a polaroid picture that he handed over to you.

You took the picture from him and felt yourself deflate once you saw your wall. “I forgot I did that.” Your words were quiet mutters as you looked at the words you painted nights ago when you were in a rage. “I...I didn’t-”

“Don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything. The words are there.” Hopper had his gaze fixed on you, his body leaning towards you as he waited for a response. “Y/N,” You looked back up at him from hiding from the photo. “Are there problems at home?”

He barely suggested this, and you shook your head. “No, there’s nothing like that, Chief Hopper, sir. It’s just...it’s…” Hopper watched as you worked on your words; whether it was appropriate or not, he placed his hand on your knee in solidarity. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m just...it’s hard sometimes, cause I’m just stuck in the middle. Mikey’s the only boy in the family and he’s always at his friends house. Holly is adorable and she’s the baby and she’s cute. And Nancy…” You paused again, focusing your gaze onto your finger tracing the fabric on the couch. “Things aren’t good with her and me. I got into high school and she just...because very mean. Bitchy honestly. My parents care about me...but they don’t side with me and it isn't good sometimes. Or a lot of the times. But things are like bad at home, times just get rough sometimes.”

“I think you just described a bad household, kid.”

“No, no, no. It’s not bad. I didn’t mean…” Your voice cracked and you moved to quickly wipe your eyes. “I didn’t…” You tried again, but you couldn’t get yourself to talk.

Hopper sighed at watching you. He didn’t want to have this conversation, it was an uncomfortable feeling already, but if he wanted to sleep again, he needed to know. “Don’t tell me if you meant it or not. Can you tell me why you wrote all of this? I’m just here to help you, Y/N.”

You finally looked up at him, for the first time really since you woke up, feeling your eyes starting to sting. “Damnit.” You whined into your hands as you hid your face from Hopper just as quickly as you looked up at him. Trying, you tried so hard to stop yourself from crying, because this wasn’t something you did. Y/N Wheeler didn’t break down and cry. You didn’t do that kinda thing.

Hopper watched, he was never this good when his wife got emotional, he was barely there for his own little girl. With El, she was even stranger of a case and had no clue what to do with you. You were a practically random sixteen/seventeen-year-old sitting on his couch, crying, and he was lost. He went against his own instincts and did something that made him uncomfortable but would hopefully help you.

“Come here kid.” As gently as possible, Hopper wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you to cry on his own shoulder, much to his uncomfort. “Talk when you want to. I’m here all night.” As much as he didn’t want to be awake for the evening, he had a feeling he may have needed to say this.

And you took his suggestion quickly. “I don’t always feel like that, I just-I just-I just...it gets hard when my mom wants me to be like Nancy and I can’t because I’m not smart enough, or pretty enough, or perfect enough. And I was angry and tired and...I do hate home. I hate it so much. But I have nowhere to go. I can’t just leave.”

You had no one to listen to you, not before this, but Hopper did. Hopper listened to you until you slowly cried yourself to sleep. Chief heard your voice quiet down as you kept talking until you went completely silent and your breathing evened out to where you were sleeping. He glanced over to the clock and groaned at how late it was, or early. It was way too close to when he needs to be awake for his liking.

“Guess I should sleep myself.” Muttering to himself, Hopper leaned his head against the back of his couch and worked on getting himself to sleep, feeling you shift closer to his shoulder just before he fell asleep for the night.

-----

El let her leg jump against yours in the front seat of Hopper truck. Early this morning, you woke up to Hopper talking to someone through the phone, it sounded like he was talking to his police workers, telling them something about staying in the office and not being able to show up till later in the morning. After the phone call, he corralled you and El into his work truck after giving you a change of her clothes that looked like they should fit.

Plus, it gave her an excuse to see your little brother, who apparently has a little girlfriend that you didn’t know about. She was smiling in her seat next to you, still not having said too much to you other than she was excited to see Mike.

She was sandwiched between you and Hopper, allowing you to stare out the window as the scenery around you changed, watching as the scenery changed from heavily wooded forest to dirt roads to suburbs. All the while, you wondered what would happen when you got home. Because there obviously wasn’t anywhere else you would be going besides back home. How will you walk in? Will you go up to your room? Will your mom care? Chief Hopper said they were out searching for you, but you had a pit growing in your stomach where you thought how this could be a lie.

This question was going to be answered much faster than you anticipated as you saw your house and driveway come into view in the front window of the car. El’s jumpiness intensified at the sight of the house while you tried sinking further into your chair. “Alright, you two, let’s get to the door before this rain picks up again. I don’t wanna go into work soaked.” He warned as he got out of the car with El following past him and ran for the front door.

But you didn’t move a muscle.

You watched as Hopper went up to the door that El was already knocking on and it opened before the Chief even got up there. Your mother had opened the door and you inhaled sharply when you saw her with her hair pulled back into a mess that you wouldn’t even call a bun anymore and it looked like she was in a pair of your father’s pants and a grungy t-shirt.

Her eyes looked over Chief Hopper and El, who had pushed past her to where you assumed would be hugging Mike, before back to the Chief who pointed at the truck, causing her to look in your direction. The moment you two made eye contact, she began running to you, across the grass with no shoes on her feet. Rain was still coming down in a constant drizzle, but that didn’t slow your mom down.

Seeing her pursuit towards you, you pushed the door open and fell out into the rain yourself before moving towards your house and mom. You two met and her nearly tackled you to the ground as she wrapped you in one of the tightest hugs you ever received. Her face pressed into your shoulder and she held you so tightly to her chest, and you returned this by slipping your arms under your mother’s and held onto her waist. “Mom.” You whimpered into her chest, sealing your eyes shut as you fought back tears you never thought you would have shed.

The rain ran down your head and under your clothes, but you didn’t want to think about anything but your mom’s hug right now. “Y/N, oh my…” You heard your dad’s voice before you felt him hug you from behind, taking both you and your mom up in an embrace you hadn’t felt in a long time. Opening your eyes, you saw the front of your house, the door opens to your house with Chief Hopper standing on the porch still, his arms crossed over his chest with a neutral look on his face. In the doorway, you saw someone standing at the threshold of the house: Nancy. She looked at you, no emotion to her face, just watching. You wanted to feel uncomfortable under that gaze, but you shut your eyes and came back to enjoy the safe and warm embrace of your parents around you.

It was eventually the rain that pushed you three inside, and where your strings of apologies began. On your couch, with your dad sitting next to you and your mom kneeling in front, you started apologizing for running away, apologizing for making your parents and family and other people worried, apologizing for seeing your sister’s boyfriend. “Y/N,” You were interrupted by your mom. “Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do. You shouldn’t have been sneaking Steve into the house at all, but you were helping him see your sister.” She ran her thumb against your cheek, affection you weren’t used to yet or at all.

Your gaze went over to Chief Hopper, who was leaning against the junction between your living room and kitchen. He gave you a small smile and nod, almost having to tell you that it was okay for your mother to be treating you like this. ‘If you ever feel uncomfortable at home, or if you ever need anything kid, drop by the office. My door will be open if you need it’. He told you this morning while he offered your waffles for breakfast before hitting the road, the both of you remembering your admittance early this morning to him.

“Okay.” A quiet whisper came from your lips as you looked back at your mom and gave her a small smile. You just hoped in the back of your head that things would somehow go back to what you knew as normal.

-----

You concluded that you had no clue what normal was.

Tuesday your mom and dad kept you home from school with your father running out to work for a few hours before coming back. She never let you out of her sight throughout the day, calling your name every time you left the room for more than five minutes. And every time she called your name, you knew that it was your fault, you were the reason she was skittish about you leaving the house.

Eventually you were able to convince her that you were just going upstairs to sleep for a little bit, promising her that you wouldn’t leave or slip out the window...again. Stepping into the room, you sighed at the feeling of being able to breathe again. Sliding down against the door, you never realized how...overwhelming having attention on you was. But your room was your sanctuary and you looked around, your eyes stopping when you saw the wall next to your window, it was blank. The words you wrote had been painted over like they never were even there.

You gulped and forced yourself to look away from the negative space and felt the wind leave your body at the sight of an empty easel stand. “M-Mom?” She came up the stairs a few seconds after you called her. “Where’s my painting?”

At your question, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Sweetie, your dad took care of it.” Her news scared you, but what else had you expected when the canvas was destroyed, you could try and paste it together, but then it wouldn’t look the same. “He told me he was going out to get you another canvas sweetie, so you can paint it again when he gets back.” Nodding your head, you sighed before smiling up at her.

“Thanks mom. I’m tired, so I think I’m gonna take a nap or something.” She returned your smile before kissing your forehead and shutting the door behind you. Once you were alone, you took one final look at the empty corner before you turned to your bed and tucked yourself in for now.

Wednesday passed by with Clare and Matt tackling you as you stepped out of the car, both of them screaming at you for being missing for two days without telling them and making them worried when they heard about you actually going missing. And all you could do was apologize for making them worry. Every time anyone reminds you about how worried they were, you feel another wave of guilt in your decision.

At least your teachers didn’t bring it up, leaving you to figure out what you missed from the past two days on your own and your school day went on as normal, with a happy break during art class until you remembered your canvas. Seeing the face that you had started, you stared at it for a second, thinking, waiting, waiting on what is a good question, but your small burst of waiting ended when you picked up a paint brush and dipped the tip into black and began the outline of a face.

You didn’t give a fuck right now. You wanted to paint, and this face is what you were going to paint. That art period was one of the fastest ones you remember attending but still one of your most productive ones with you being able to get the shape of the face done and drew the base color of the hair down in the shape you would work with tomorrow.

And when Thursday art class came, you were already painting before the bell rang, not waiting for teacher’s permission to get started. Colors blended seamlessly, every strand of hair stood out in a cohesive way, the skin tone was becoming less white and more colored with a light blush on the cheek to give life. The lips and nose were already done, and this left you with the eyes.

You realized you hadn’t seen Harrington since...was it Saturday? Not that you cared, you didn’t need Nancy breathing down your neck again for supposedly cheating behind her back. But you wanted to keep this painting going, wanted to finish something that Nancy couldn’t destroy. Something you wish you could turn into the art show for your school.

You pushed away the thought of the art show you worked so hard to put a piece in, but that’s all your teacher talked about was the show today in Indianapolis. She advertised it on Wednesday and Thursday in class and told everyone to go if they were interested in seeing different schools and their projects they had worked on. You had been planning on going all year since you heard about this opportunity back in August. And now, your plans are completely up-ended for having your own art presented there.

Instead of focusing on the now missed opportunity of the painting, you looked to what was before you and pulled your paintbrush to begin the eyes. Harrington’s warm and welcoming eyes.

Time slowly ticked by until you had the body of the eye colored out and everything except for the eye color itself. The pupils were completely, and the iris was outlined, but you left the coloring for last. You knew the color, but not the depth. Like his hair. His hair was brown, but there were small shines of gold hidden throughout, and as his hair got to his tips, they muted down to almost an auburn color. Nothing was just a single color; depth came from marking out the darker exterior iris and getting lighter as it gets closer to the pupil before darkening again.

This was something you stopped yourself from doing; you could stare at Harrington’s skin or hair all day and he wouldn’t notice. Trying to see his eyes, that was harder than you called for. So, you couldn’t know the report layers of his eyes, not without doing it in the next couple of days when he jumped through your window.

“What time is it?” You muttered very quietly to yourself as you turned in your seat to look at the clock hanging in the back of the church. With only ten minutes left in class, you were about to turn around when someone caught your eye. And you didn’t stop your staring gaze at Harrington sitting in the back row of class.

How long he had been in this class, you had no clue, but you couldn’t take your eyes of the teenager in the back of your class who had a paintbrush pinched between his fingers and working on the canvas he had in front of him. He must have felt your stare because he looked up at you and met your gaze.

You didn’t turn away yet, allowing the two of you to dumpling watch each other. From here you couldn’t see the colors you had been needing, but you could see the small smile he sent your way and a wave. You returned the gesture and turned back towards your own drawing, a warm blush rising to your cheeks as you dm cursed yourself for not noticing that he was in your class and painting obviously his face in front of him.

In the next ten minutes, you cut yourself off early and worked on cleaning up the paint brushes and paint palettes. You didn’t get much quiet cleaning done when you found someone standing next to you in the adjoining sink. “You've been missing the past couple of days, Wheeler.”

Harrington was washing his own equipment next to you. “Yeah...I wasn’t feeling well these past few days.” Not everyone in school knew you needed to know what happened between you and your family.

He hummed at your response not responding for a time until he was finished washing the brushes. “What are you doing tonight, Wheeler?”

You looked at him in confusion in his direction. “Why?”

“I was...there’s a new movie out and I was curious about if you wanted to come watch it with me.” His question caused you to scoff as the bell rang around you, forcing you to put your brushes away while answering over your shoulder.

“You should be asking my sister, not me. Besides, I’m busy in Indianapolis.” Yes. You were still going to the show, your mom and dad told you it would be a good way for you to show them what you enjoyed doing, even if nothing was there for you to show. You tried arguing this morning, but neither of them would change their minds.

Matt and Clare had you sandwiches between the two as they asked about your painting since you should be almost done, but you still weren’t focused on that. “How long has Harrington been in our art class?”

“I would say...he’s been there the whole time, hasn't he, Clare?” Matt asked over your head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. He’s always been tucked away in the back. Very quiet for Harrington.” Clare commented herself in his “odd” and quiet behavior. You nodded in sort of understanding, but you threw a look over your shoulder again, still curious as to why Harrington was asking you about seeing a movie.

-----

“Mom, we really don’t need to do this. We can just go home and have a movie night or something.” This had been your comment the entire ride from Hawkins to the capital in your state. But they hadn’t listened to you and kept driving.

And with you now standing in front of the building that was advertising the show, you tried even harder to not have to go inside and they pushed ever more for you to go in. “Come on, even if you don't have anything to actually present, we want to see what gets you excited to paint.” Your mom spoke rather whimsically as she wrapped her hand under your dad’s arm and he escorted her into the building, you were trailing behind them. As much as you didn’t want to go inside, your mother always found a way of getting you places you didn’t want to be.

Stepping into the door, you were welcomed to the warm environment of overhead lighting of candelabras, a cinnamony smell, and wooden floors that made the place feel homey and welcoming. A place you would gladly spend your Saturdays wandering between the lone pillars that held small statues, paintings on walls, different mediums of art you have never dabbled in but could appreciate.

“Come on, Y/N. Give us the tour of the place, what is everything?” Your dad looked to you with a smile. With a small huff, you looked around the room, to the other families of students whose art was on display, their art, and not your own, before you smiled back and started walking around with them.

They asked questions about what everything they saw, what it meant, how did it look like that, why did they do this kind of medium instead of that. It was fun for you to see them so interested in what you enjoyed. Some of the questions they asked were out of your realm, like why they used more black than red in this painting, why were the flowers sculpted this way. “That’s just what the person wanted to do. Everybody puts their own spin on what they do.”

The three of you were standing in front of a painting of what looked to be the Chicago skyline, with multi colors showing the sunset and stars beginning to appear in the sky. Really pretty painting, very simple but it caught the moment the sun disappeared behind the city.

You enjoyed standing in front of the painting for several minutes, analyzing it, acknowledging the simplicity of the painting and its colors while also admiring this person’s work with blending paints to make three colors appear to be a rainbow. You had never been to Chicago yourself, but this painting brought you there. To your left you watched your parents move down to another display, but you kept yourself happy enjoying others work.

“Beautiful.” Someone spoke next to you, the only other person who was standing in front of the painting with you; you looked over at the person and scoffed at seeing him.

“You following me now, Harrington?” As much as you wanted to move away from him, you didn’t want his presence interrupting your enjoyment of a small thing you loved. “How’d you even find me?”

“I’m not following you; I just happen to enjoy looking at art. Or do I come off as too much of a douchebag for this kinda stuff?” Looking back over to Harrington, all you did was look at him. Watch him. He never answered how he found you and you really didn’t want to have him around you more than sneaking in and out of your room to get to Nancy.

“Still doesn’t explain how you got to this one.” You mumble to yourself as you found the painting now not as appealing as before and turned to follow after your parents, seeing a big group of people gathering around a small stand.

“Wheeler, hey I wanted to talk to you about something.” Harrington was by your side again and walking over with you. His tall height allowed him to see over most of the people in front of the exhibit; once he saw what was on the other side of a sea of people, his eyes widened before a small smirk perked at his lips. “Wow.” He muttered before turning back to you.

“Whatever you want Harrington, no. And...stop talking to me. Please.” Your heart was starting to pick up pace as you moved around the crowd, still away from him and a little closer to where your parents were at the center of this grouping.

He followed; it was getting annoying. “Come on, Y/N. I just wanted to talk to you. I mis-” You spun around, your hair and dress you were wearing flaring out around you as you turned back to look at him.

“Don’t say that, Harrington. Me talking to you is the reason I am in this whole mess. So, stay away from me.” Something ran through you, you couldn’t tell if it was fury or anger, but a heavy emotion coursed through your veins as you stared at him. Your hands were fisted by your side and you hoped your glare would tell him to back off. “I don’t need Nancy hating me already more than she does. Just leave me alone.” Everything around you hurt, and nothing made sense. The art exhibits around you no longer were appealing; you were confused, and you didn’t know why.

“Y/N, that’s what I need to say, if you would let me talk.” Harrington stepped towards you with his hand extended out to grab hold of your wrist and bring your hand forward. “Nancy and I are-”

“I know, you and Nancy are dating, that’s why I can’t talk to you.” As you spoke you tried pulling your hand away, but Harrington had a stronger hold than your weak pull could break. And after feeling his hand almost holding yours, you almost broke and let yourself enjoy this small moment.

When you made the mistake of not pulling away harder, Harrington took a step closer to you, your feet were almost touching and he was so close you could smell his deodorant, or cologne, or whatever he used. Whatever it was, it smelt better than your little brother most days. “Y/N, if you would let me talk, I can tell you that Nancy and I are-”

“Why do you keep saying my name? You’ve always called me Wheeler and I’ve called you Harrington.” You took a step closer, even if it was small, and pressed your finger against his chest pokingly. “I call you Harrington because if I call you Steve, that makes me want to date you more. I want to be selfish and be the one that dates you. But I can’t because you are my sister’s boyfriend and she may hate me, but I respect her enough to not try and get with you. So please, just leave me alone.” You were practically begging him at this point, and you stepped away from him, moving to turn back to find your parents.

Forgetting that he was still holding on your hand, you groaned as he tugged you back around. Your beginning argument was cut short when you felt him press a kiss to your forehead. He left his lips against your rapidly heating up skin for a few seconds longer before he pulled away with a smile on his face. “Nancy and I aren’t dating anymore. I called it off after she…” He looked around for a second before he coughed and spoke again. “Let’s just say after I saw some true colors shining through.”

You stared at him confused, watching him, waiting to see if there was anything you could tell you that he was lying to you, that this was all a ploy for him and Nancy to see that you are trying to steal him from her. “How...what?”

Before he could answer, you heard your name being called. “Y/N sweetheart.” You turned your head towards where you heard your mom’s voice before you looked back at Harrington.

“I…I gotta go.” Taking a tentative step backwards, you kept your eyes on him as you slowly pulled your hand away from his. Once your hand was free from his grasp, you slowly turned away, letting the smile finally grow on your face.

“Wheeler?”

“Yes? Steve?” You tested out saying his name as you spun around quickly and looked at him. The feeling left you breathless and lightheaded.

“When are you free this weekend? I wanted to see if you could draw me another picture.” His smile hadn’t left his face and neither had yours.

Honestly you were feeling bashful at the attention and you couldn’t look at him without your heart skipping a little and the feeling that your smile wanted to get even bigger, so you looked at your feet as you answered. “I’m free this Saturday if you...wanna pick me up?”

Although you already knew the answer, you were excited to actually hear him say it; looking back up, he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll come to your window to get you.” Your name was called again, breaking the small moment and you gave him a small wave before you turned around.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that you were here today.

The crowd around that one piece had dissipated with your parents still at the front of it, both blocking it from our view as you mom looked at you with a smile. “Y/N. Can you tell me why this person painted these flowers with a…” Her words faded away as you came around her and saw what everyone had been staring at.

There it was. But how? Staring at it, you knew, you knew it was yours.

The dark red background, the faded white outlines of the ribcage, the heart, the beautiful red and pink muscles and veins running across the structure. It was all there. Even the big rip in the center was there. But it wasn’t as noticeable with the gorgeous bouquet of roses sticking through the hole, making the original painting of flowers look 3D now. Your jaw dropped at the sight of it being here, and just as gorgeous as you imagined it when you began working on it.

“How did this get here?” Stepping past your parents, you went up to the stand it was sitting on and read the plaque next to it. Your name was there! “I thought you threw it out?”

You felt your dad’s hand on your shoulder. “Now why would I throw something so beautiful and emotional away? You worked so hard on it that I wanted to add my own spin to it.” He did this.

“You...you did this, dad?” He gave you a nod, and you felt your mom’s hand on your opposite shoulder, you between the two of them as you three looked at your art piece. The piece you had been planning and working on for months now and was here, in the biggest student art gallery in Indiana. After Nancy, you never thought you could have gotten to see this.

Tears quickly filled your eyes and started running down your face, but you didn’t move to wipe them away and instead moved to wrap your father in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You whisper to him, staring at what was before you as your mother enveloped you on your otherwise. “Thank you so much.”

The moment to others just seemed to be a family enjoying this piece of work, a sweet moment. And it was, but to you, you have never felt so loved before. This wasn’t going to fix everything that ever happened to you in the past with your parents and your family, but this was a good start to changing thin. You didn’t need to forgive them for everything from before, but you knew that one day, just one day all the tears in your heart could be mended and your heart be as full as the painting before you.

#steve #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #Mike Wheeler #Nancy wheeler #stranger things #stranger things season 3 #Stranger Things Season 1 #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 2 #joe keery

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