~ Welcome To My Madhouse ~ Finn Wolfhard X Reader

Cigarette Daydreams

Your POV

I opened my eyes, a bright light immediately hit me, and my head began to pound. I let out a soft whimper.

"Fuck, my head..." I whined.

"Well good morning, Kitten." An annoyingly familiar voice said. I opened my eyes completely to see I was back in my cell. "You took quite the hit. Smacked your head right against the concrete."

"He deserved it," I said, attempting to sit up from my bed. Suddenly I realized I couldn't, I felt tight restraints on my arms and legs.

"The doctors strapped you to your bed because they don't want you to hurt yourself," Finn replied, answering all my unsung questions. "How you feelin'?" He continued.

"My head feels like it's pounding."

Finn suddenly reached under his bed and picked up something.

"Open your mouth." He said, opening the contents he grabbed. I looked up at him suspiciously. "Calm down, Crazy-pants. They're just pain pills."

"They let you have pain pills?" I asked, watching him pour a few from the bottle.

"Nope, but my aunt is the counselor here. She gets me whatever the hell I want. Cigarettes, pain pills, you know."

"Oh, lucky you..." I trailed, before opening my mouth, allowing him to hand feed me the pills.  The room fell silent, I looked over at Finn and then immediately looked back at the ceiling.

"So you never answered my question," Finn said, breaking the silence.

"Huh?"

"How are you liking the asylum?" The question rang in my ears for a few moments.

"This place needs to be burnt to the ground, and I wanna be the one to do it," I said, coldly.

"Oh really? You think you can handle it, Kitten?" He said, letting a smirk play on his lips.

"Don't call me that," I replied, angrily. I don't know what it was about Finn, but in the few moments I've actually spent with him, I'd never been so aggravated, and that saying a lot considering all the abuse I've gone through over the years.

~ Flashback ~

"Y/n!? Where the fuck are you?!" My father screamed from downstairs. I'd just gotten out of the shower, and was beginning to dry my hair. I took a deep breath as I finished running the towel through it.

I looked myself over in the mirror, I had cigarette burns all over my arms, and a bruise on the top of my right cheekbone.

"He's gonna do it again." I thought to myself. I took one more deep breath before walking out of my room.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw my father standing at the end of the hallway. He was screaming at my mother and her of course... Screaming right back.

He looked back and saw me, our eyes made contact and immediately I saw the flare of hatred I usually saw when he got like this.

"Get your ass down here!" He said, angrily. I did as I was asked, and walked to my parents.

"Did you take my last cigarette?" He growled. I shook my head 'no'.

"Don't fucking lie, Y/n." My mother interjected. "I'm so sick of your fucking lies, I didn't raise a liar!"

I felt a lump form in my throat, and my heart rate increase, my palms began to sweat and I knew there was no getting out of this...

"I didn't take your cigarettes dad," I mumbled.