#(besides mike i thought of something quickly)

[misiahasahardname]

BREAKING NEWS: extended family au is an excuse to draw april in as many silly little outfits as possible! (/nsrs)

also… poster for au maybe? i was gonna get around

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Running to You 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You’re rescued by a man who you don’t even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

With a quarter of the oatmeal cookie wrapped up in your purse, you head back home at last. You’re a bit behind but it’s not so bad since you have help. Despite your protests, which recede each time they’re swept over, Steve insists on carrying your bags to your building.

He doesn’t let the subway ride deter him even as you anxiously wiggle in your seat. You sit beside the bags as he stands in front of you. He holds onto the overhead bar as he shields you from the rest of the car. You don’t mind it. Often times you feel like people are watching you. 

Your stop comes and you get up. Steve keeps you from falling back down as a press of bodies pushes by. He takes both bags and follows you to the doors. 

You sigh as you get off. You look at him. “I always get a bit... claustrophobic.” 

“Me too,” he agrees coolly, his eyes scanning the platform. It’s cracked and stained. There’s a faint smell of urine rising from the concrete. “Been a while since I hit this end of the borough.” 

“Hm, yeah. The shop’s a bit further but nowhere closer sells what I need,” you explain. “Used to go further when I worked... for someone else.” 

You shrug. You try not to think about that time. Those memories are not fun. 

You come up to ground level. There’s a man sitting against the brick wall along the sidewalk. You don’t look at him. You used to offer some spare change but stopped after a few mean names too many. You didn’t mean to insult anyone. 

Steve sighs as you carry on down the street. 

“Rough area,” he says as you pass a group of men in hoodies and ball caps. They quiet as you go by. They even turn to watch Steve. 

“Mm, everyone needs somewhere to live,” you shrug. “I don’t go out much anyhow.” 

“I wouldn’t either.” He steps closer, almost protectively, as a slouching man mutters something under his breath. You don’t bother anyone and they do the same. For the most part. 

Your apartment isn’t very far. At the front door, you quickly unlock the heavy grated door and grunt as you open it. Steve gets his elbow against it and pushes it back all the way. He trails you inside. 

“You can leave those with me now,” you say as you approach the end of the staircase. “You came all this way already.” 

“You live upstairs?” He peers up. 

You bite the inside of your lip. “Yes, but only one floor.” 

“I came all this way, like you said. What’s a bit more?” 

You hum. He tilts his head. 

“I’m... bugging you?” 

“No, Steve. I just... I feel bad, is all. I don’t have much to pay you back with.” 

“Pay me back? I’m being nice.” 

“I know but... no one’s that nice. Not even me.” 

“Sure you are,” he shrugs. “Just one more floor, right?” 

You don’t argue. You hop up the steps ahead of him. You’re drained from a day out in public. You just want to get to where you know is safe. 

You lead him to the second floor and pad along the hall. As you near your door, the one next to it opens. A familiar face looks out. Mike sniffs and rubs his dark eyes as he waves and steps out. 

“Oh, hi, Mike,” you greet your neighbour. 

“Was wondering where you were,” he utters dully. His tattoos peek out beneath the thin fabric of his white tank, another traced onto his bicep. “I was knocking—oh, uh, who’s that?” 

He looks past you as Steve stops behind you. 

“This...” you look over your shoulder, “this is my friend, Steve.” 

“Friend?” Mike echoes flatly. “Huh.” 

“I had to go get some stuff. Did you get what I left you this morning?” You ask. 

“French toast,” he grins sleepily. “Yeah...” 

“I made it with the special sugar,” you say. 

“Mmm, alright,” he sways and leans back into his door. “Sorry... I... see ya.” 

He turns and nearly tumbles through his door. It snaps shut behind him. Steve lets out a long breath. 

“He your friend too?” He asks. 

You’re suddenly very self-conscious. You know you don’t live in the best neighbourhood. He must have thought you were better off shopping up at that organic shop. He must be, at least, if he hangs out around there. 

“He’s my neighbour,” you say as you unlock your door.  

You turn to take a bag from him. He stares at Mike’s door. You frown. 

“He’s nice enough.” 

“His arms...” 

“Yeah... diabetic. He takes insulin. Probably his blood sugar again,” you give a sad smile. “My aunt had diabetes too.” 

“Diabetic?” His eyes flick over to you. “Did he say that?” 

“I... I didn’t ask,” you murmur. “I just thought...” 

“You don’t...” he begins then shakes his head. “I think you’re right. He must be sick.” 

You’re quiet. You step forward and take a bag. You turn to put it inside your door. Then you reach for the next. 

“You give him food?” 

“He’s skinny. I have extra,” you say. “Nothing wrong with sharing.” 

“No, there’s not.” He hands over the other bag. “But there is such a thing as being too nice. Being used.” 

“What?” You hug the bag. “No, Mike is... Mike is nice to me. He... he watches out for me. You know. Someone broke the chain in my apartment. I was so scared but he chased them off. Stayed and watched the apartment until I got back.” 

Steve’s brows knit. He looks over again at Mike’s door. 

“You weren’t home?” 

“Luckily,” you nod. 

His eyes spark and his cheek dimples. Why is he upset?” 

“Oh, um, the beard oil. One second.” 

You spin and scurry into your apartment. You put the bag down and rush around the tight space. All your supplies are along one wall on shelves and in boxes, then you have your work station and the package mat. You sit on the floor and pack it all up. It’s like a little factory. You have just enough room for your cot in the corner. 

You grab a vial of beard oil with bergamot and a comb to go with it. You hurry back to the door as Steve peeks inside. He backs up as you do. 

“Here. You can use this,” you wiggle the comb at him. “To work it in a bit better. I’m all out of the evergreen oil.” 

“Uh, thanks,” he takes them in his large hands and examines your hand written labels. “Wow, this looks almost... like it could be in a store.” 

“I do my best.” 

“You’re good at it. You make a lot.” 

“Enough to live.” You assure him. “Steve,” you put your feet together and stand up as straight as you can. “Thank you so much. Really.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“It’s everything to be kind,” you say. 

“You make it easy,” he turns the vial between his fingers. “Can... is it too much to ask for your number?” 

You stare at him then your chest thrums. You clap and bounce on your toes. “Oh! You can take my card.” Once more, you twirl and race into your apartment. You search for the box with your business cards and return to him again. “I had a bunch printed out. A few shops let me leave them there with a bit of product.” 

He accepts the card and reads it. He brushes his finger over the font. He smiles and looks at you. 

“I’ll call,” he says. 

“Sure,” you rock back and forth. “But please, go home and get rest. It’s been a long day.” 

“It sure has,” he agrees. “You do the same.” 

“I will. Once I get this all put away.” 

He chews his cheek then reluctantly backs off. You wait until he turns and starts down the hall. You don’t shut the door until he’s at the end.  

You slide your chain into place, the wood frame still splintered from where it was broken by the intruder. It would’ve been a lot worse if you didn’t have such a good neighbour. Just like today would’ve been so much worse without Steve. 

🎀

Your phone rings. You hold up your hands, wax oily on your gloves. You really don’t want to take them off. You’re just getting into the swing. 

You look around desperately. Huh. You bend and tap answer with your nose. 

“Hello,” you say too close to the speaker. 

“Hey, it’s Steve,” the greeting comes from the other end. “Is this a bad time?” 

“Ummmmm. Not bad. I’m just making some stuff.” 

“Right. You’re busy.” He says. Disappointment laces his tone. 

“Not too busy,” you assure him, speaking up so he can still hear you as you go back to it. “How are you?” 

“I’m... okay,” he drags out. You can hear him moving on the other side. “Long day.” 

You scrape the wax into a tin and level it off. “Long... how?” 

Silence. Then you hear him set down the phone. Something shifts. A chair spring, maybe? 

“Just... I hate being out of the city. I know it’s work but... being far from home. It reminds me... of a long time ago.” He takes a deep breath. 

“You work out of town?” You ask. 

“Sometimes. Most times.” He answers, almost reluctantly. 

“Wow. Well, you must get to see lots of new things. There’s that at least. Even if work is crummy.” 

“That’s definitely the bright side,” he agrees glumly. 

“But you miss your family,” you say.  

He’s silent again. You wait but he doesn’t break it. Oh. Maybe you said too much. 

“Sorry, I hope... hope I didn’t overstep.” 

“No, no,” he says. “No. It’s... I miss my friends, I guess.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Don’t have many others to miss,” he hums. “Anyway, I didn’t just call to complain. The beard stuff you gave me. It’s nice. It smells great and helped soften this up. You know, it gets so itchy.” 

“Really? I’m so happy you like it.” 

“Of course I do. You made it,” he assures you. “I was thinking of shaving. I should. I want to. But, eh. I don’t mind it as much now.” 

“Well, if you do, let me know. I have shaving balm. It’s like aftershave but a cream,” you say. “I’m slowly expanding my men’s products.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He says. 

“If you wanna know about my work, it’s messy! I opened the window. I was getting dizzy,” you giggle. “And it’s not very exciting unless I burn myself.” 

“Did you?” 

“No... not yet,” you laugh again. “I’m used to it. Not too bad.” 

“You do all that in that tiny apartment?” 

“It’s not that small.” 

“Can’t be that roomy. Or safe. Don’t they have building codes?” He wonders. 

“Sure they do but they only enforce them when they know what you’re doing,” you shrug. “I’m just making soap and whatever. I’m not hurting anyone.” 

“I know, it’s just... you could get hurt.” 

“I guess,” you drone. “But, you know, I’m saving up for a real space. Some day.” 

“Some day,” he sucks his teeth. You frown. You know you’re breaking the rules but him reminding you, doesn’t help. This is your livelihood. You don’t have a choice. “What about your neighbours? They don’t care?” 

“Never say anything,” you mutter. 

“What about Mike? You talked to him lately?” He wonders. 

“Sure. He’s cool. He helped carry my laundry back from the machine. It was so heavy.” 

“Helpful,” he remarks. 

“Like you,” you reply. 

He takes another heavy breath. “I’m back in town in a few days. Wanna go find the best cookie in the city?” 

You hesitate. It sounds fun but you can’t really afford all that. “Maybe or... we can just go watch the birds in the park.” 

“Sure, whatever you want, doll,” he groans and you hear that squeak again. “Ugh, I’m all cramped.” 

“I’ll save you a bath bomb!” You offer. “Take a nice hot bath. It’ll help.” 

“I should...” he yawns. “In a bit. Why don’t you tell me what a bath bomb is?” 

“You don’t know? Wow. Okay!” You begin giddily. You don’t get to talk to many people and those you do, rarely care about what you do. 

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Trapped in the freezing sanatorium, Mike notices your body trembling from the cold and takes matters into his own hands-literally. His touch starts out innocent, a way to warm you up, but soon it turns into something far more heated.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Wolfie being a good boy. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

Note: I played the original game years ago, and now that I'm playing the remake, my crush on Mike has come back. He's such a good character with amazing development. I never expected to like him this much. I'm near chapter 7 of the remake, and I'm honestly loving it.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Words counts: 3000

The cold of the sanatorium was oppressive. It seemed to leech the warmth from the very walls, seeping into your skin and bones, making every breath feel like you were inhaling shards of ice. As you and Mike rummaged through the mess of papers and debris in the dim, decaying room, the chill became impossible to ignore.

You had been at this for what felt like hours. Searching for anything, any clue, any scrap of information that could help you make sense of the nightmare you and your friends had stumbled into.

You wanted to focus. You needed to. But the cold was starting to weaken you. Your muscles ached from the effort of trying to stay warm, and despite your best attempts to keep it together, your hands were trembling as you shuffled through the scattered papers. The torn, thin jacket you'd found earlier did little to protect you, barely covering your torso, let alone insulating you from the freezing air.

Snowflakes continued to drift in from the broken windows, scattering across the dusty floor.

The place felt like a tomb. The smell of decay hung in the air, making every breath feel heavy, cold, and full of death.

Mike tried to stay focused, but even as his eyes scanned the scattered papers on the floor, his attention was pulled to you. You were over by the corner of the room, crouched low beside an old table, sifting through stacks of yellowed documents, your movements deliberate but slow. The jacket clung to you awkwardly, barely covering your arms and torso.

Even from across the room, he could hear your teeth chattering slightly, despite how hard you were trying to suppress it.

You always did that, pushing yourself even when it was clear you were struggling. Mike admired that about you, but it was also something that worried him. He knew you were trying to stay strong for him and the rest of the group, but the last thing Mike wanted was for you to get hurt or worse.

His thoughts raced, that protective instinct flaring up again. You didn't deserve this. You deserved to be somewhere warm, safe... with him.

He had been feeling that way for months now, ever since that night after he broke up with Emily. That night had changed everything for him. You were the one who stayed with him, sitting by his side, listening to him vent as he struggled to process the end of his long-term relationship.

You didn't just offer hollow platitudes; you gave him the kind of comfort and understanding he never knew he needed. He realized then, somewhere between the midnight conversation and the quiet moments of silence, that you were different. You weren't just his friend; you were the one person who made him feel like himself again.

After that night, he found himself constantly thinking about you. How easy it was to talk to you, how you made him laugh even when he felt like shit.

He'd find excuses to see you, call you up for help with college work, or invite you out for something casual. He always assumed you'd catch on quickly to his flirting, but you never did. Either he was terrible at flirting with a guy like you, or you were just completely oblivious.

Without a word, he began to unbutton his own jacket, which was far thicker and more insulated than the pathetic excuse you were wearing.

He held it out toward you.

"Here," he said simply. "Take it"

You shook your head immediately. "No. I'll be fine. You need it more than I do."

Mike narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. "You're freezing, man. You look like you're about to turn into an ice cube."

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out weak and unconvincing. "It's really not that bad. I can handle the cold. And it'd be selfish of me to take your jacket. There’s no way you're any warmer than I am."

With the simple tank top he was wearing underneath, now all dirty with mud and snow, it became even harder for you to stop staring at him. His muscular and strong arms drew your attention.

Mike sighed, holding the jacket out stubbornly towards you. "You're not fine. You're shaking like a leaf." He reached out, gently brushing his fingers over your arm, feeling the coldness of your skin even through the thin fabric of your jacket. "Just take it."

But you shook your head again, more firmly this time. "It wouldn't be fair," you murmured, looking down at the papers you were holding. "You need it just as much as I do. I can handle the cold. We've been through worse than this, right?"

Why couldn't you just let him take care of you for once?

"Come on," he tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "After everything we've been through tonight, hypothermia is the least of my worries. I'm not letting you freeze out here, not when I can do something about it."

You glanced up at him, your eyes softening for a moment, and for a second, Mike thought you might actually take the jacket. But then you shook your head again.

"I'll be fine, Mike."

Mike sighed heavily, his breath visible in the cold air as he ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, you're stubborn.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to divert the conversation as you continued sorting through the papers. "I've been called worse."

Finally, with a deep sigh, Mike relented, shoving his jacket back on with a grumble.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being the creak of old floorboards beneath your feet and the occasional rustle of paper. Wolfie, the wolf Mike had somehow managed to befriend, lay beside you, his fur brushing against your leg as he occasionally shifted.

Every so often, you'd reach down to scratch behind Wolfie's ears. His fur was soft under your fingertips.

You gripped the edges of the papers in your hand, hoping that somehow, just focusing on the task in front of you would make it better.

It didn't.

It was then that you noticed Mike shifting beside you and before you could react, his body was pressing up against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm but gentle hold. His warmth hit you immediately, and you couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped your lips at the sudden contrast.

"Mike?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stiffened in surprise at the closeness.

"Relax," he murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "If you won't take my jacket, I'll just have to warm you up myself." he whispered, his voice rough and low.

Your heart started to race, not just from the unexpected contact, but from the undeniable heat that surged through your body as Mike's lips brushed against the side of your neck. The sensation was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold this time.

His lips moved slowly, deliberately, trailing soft kisses down the length of your neck, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. Your body was leaning into his touch, craving more of the warmth and comfort he was offering.

This wasn't the Mike you were used to. This was something far more intimate, more personal.

"Mike... I don't..." you began, but your words trailed off as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"You don't what?" he asked softly, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest on your chest, pulling you even closer against him. "You don't want this?"

Of course you wanted it. More than anything, really. You'd been harboring feelings for Mike for so long, feelings you'd kept hidden, thinking there was no way he'd ever see you as anything more than a friend, a study partner, a background presence in his life.

But now, with his body pressed against yours and his lips trailing fire down your neck, it was clear that Mike had been seeing you in a very different light for a while.

"I didn't think..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you felt like this about me."

He hadn't planned on this happening, not exactly. But as he held you in his arms, feeling the heat of your body against his, he couldn't deny how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to you. For years, he had pushed his feelings for you to the back of his mind, thinking it wasn't something you'd ever want. You were smart, focused, always so kind.

He pressed closer, his lips trailing lower along your collarbone, his fingers gently digging into your waist. The torn jacket you were wearing slid down slightly, giving him better access to your skin, and he took full advantage of it, kissing his way down your neck with slow, deliberate movements.

Mike's lips paused against your skin, and he pulled back, his expression soft but intense. "You really didn't notice, did you?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've been trying to get you to see it for months. I thought you'd pick up on it, but... guess I'm not as smooth as I thought."

You blinked at him, your mind reeling. "You've... been trying to tell me?"

"Yeah," he admitted, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I've been dropping hints since we stayed up all night after Emily and I broke up. You were there for me, man. And ever since then I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I didn't think you'd ever feel like that about me," you confessed, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Mike smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulled you a little closer. "I noticed the way you looked at me," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "All those times you'd stare at me, thinking I didn't see. You were so fucking adorable, but it drove me crazy."

You blinked up at him, clearly shocked by the confession. Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your waist. "You're not that good at hiding it, you know."

Before you could respond, Mike kissed you. His lips hungry, filled with all the emotions he hadn't been able to express before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer.

You responded almost immediately, your lips parting under his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Mike deepened the kiss, his hands slipping beneath your jacket, his fingers tracing the outline of your hips, your waist, your chest. His tongue dipped past your lips.

After a long moment, Mike pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice low and rough, "You're okay with this, right?"

You didn't even hesitate this time. You nodded, breathless.

Mike's grin widened, and without another word, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time. His hands moved up your sides, tugging at the edges of your jacket as he pressed you against the wall.

You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as the heat between you both grew.

Mike's lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and back to your neck, his hands roaming your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kissed his way down to your collarbone, his grip on your waist tightening.

You wanted more, needed more, and judging by the way Mike was holding you with his erection pressing insistently against you, he felt the same.

He pulled back slightly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at Wolfie, who had been lying quietly in the corner of the room.

He bent down, ruffling the fur of the wolf who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room. "Go on, buddy," Mike whispered. "Follow me for a second."

The wolf trotted after Mike as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone for a few moments, heart still racing. You could hear him talking softly to Wolfie just outside the door, something about how you were "the guy" he'd told the wolf about before.

When Mike came back into the room, locking the door behind him, the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken even more.

Without wasting another second, Mike crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were insistent, full of desire, and you couldn't help but melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with just as much need.

Mike's hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His tongue teased at your lips before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

He broke the kiss just long enough to mutter, "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Then, his lips were on yours again. His hands gripping you even tighter, pressing you against the nearest wall as his mouth trailed down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there.

His hands were on you, pulling at your clothes, lowering them to expose just what was needed with an almost frantic urgency, before he gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the soft skin with a possessive intensity as he lifted you slightly, pressing his body against your.

"Relax," Mike whispered, his voice low and commanding as his fingers trailed down, teasingly brushing against your entrance. "Let me take care of you."

He teased you for a moment, his fingers gently exploring before he slowly pushed one inside, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly.

He moved his finger slowly at first, watching your face for every reaction, but as you relaxed into his touch, he added another finger, stretching you carefully.

Mike's other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender.

By the time Mike pulled his fingers out of you, you were trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him.

You heard the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants, and then you felt the tip of his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You could barely nod, your entire body trembling with need. Mike lined himself up, his hands gripping your hips firmly, and then, with one slow, steady thrust, he pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, filled you completely. He moved slowly at first, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you could do was moan softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"You're perfect," Mike groaned as he began to move, his hips moving with slow, deliberate motions. "You feel so fucking good."

Mike's hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your chest, cupping your face as he kissed you hungrily. His cock filled you completely, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his thrusts.

The more his pace picked up, the more his movements became rougher, more desperate. He kissed you again, biting at your lips, your neck, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust.

"Fuck," Mike groaned, his voice low and husky. His soft grunts filling the cold room as he moved inside you.

The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as his thrusts became faster, harder. You could feel the heat spreading through your body, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the edge.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, Mike groaned loudly, his hands gripping you tightly as he came, his cock pulsing inside you. The sensation sent you over the edge as well, and you cried out as your own orgasm ripped through you, your voice muffled against his neck.

After a few moments of catching your breath and letting the weight of everything settle in, Mike pressed another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away slightly, his hands lingering on your hips. You could see the satisfied smile tugging at his lips, that playful, cocky expression you had grown so used to over the years. He gave you a wink before straightening up, pulling his pants back up and adjusting himself as if nothing had happened.

You followed suit, your body still buzzing with the aftermath. There was something so surreal about it all. Being here, with Mike Munroe, of all people. You had known him for years, but you had never imagined things would end up like this.

Once you were both dressed and more or less presentable, Mike walked over to the door, unlocking it with a soft click.

"Ready to face Wolfie again? He might be a little upset that we kicked him out." He glanced back at you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, before swinging the door open.

Outside, Wolfie was sprawled out across the floor, his furry body taking up most of the tight hallway. The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, and he turned his head to glance at the two of you. His golden eyes scanned you two and then, with what could only be described as a huff, he plopped his head back down onto the floor, letting out a long sigh as if he had been deeply offended by the delay.

"Is he pouting?" you asked, incredulous.

Mike smirked, clearly amused by the wolf's behavior. "What? You jealous, buddy?" he teased as he crouched down beside Wolfie. The wolf, still looking somewhat begrudging, turned his head away, as if refusing to acknowledge Mike.

Mike reached out, scratching Wolfie behind the ears, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I was just doing my part to keep him warm. You know how cold it is here."

You watched as Wolfie's resolve began to crumble under Mike's touch, his tail thumping softly against the floor as Mike scratched behind his ears. Mike chuckled, his cocky grin growing wider. "See? I warmed him up real good. All thanks to me."

Wolfie responded with a soft growl. He finally turned his head back toward Mike and he ruffled his fur, looking pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

Mike stood up, shooting you a wink as he slung his arm around your shoulder. "Damn right, I did." He leaned in to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips.

Together, you and Mike walked down the hallway, Wolfie trotting along beside you. And as Mike gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, you couldn't help but feel grateful that, through all the chaos and terror of the night, you had found someone worth fighting for.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[ladysharmaa]

Wild hearts

Jasper Hale x original character

Summary: When a new girl arrives at Forks, she seems to catch Jasper Hale's attention. However, he and his family are hiding a secret. What they don't know is that Evelyn has a secret of her own

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Evelyn and the Cullens were getting closer, especially Evelyn with Jasper. The family had taken her in and that seemed to be the biggest news at school. The Cullens, who had never spoken to anyone, had become friends with Eve in a matter of weeks. And that only brought even more attention to her.

Jasper would often come to her house to help her study and would also bring food made by Esme, who Evelyn had yet to meet. It wasn't that Jasper didn't want to take her home with him, but he already had to share Evelyn with his siblings, even Edward who had finally gotten over his frustration with not being able to read Eve's thoughts due to the static. He didn't want to have to share her at home too.

However, Evelyn had not forgotten her first friends at all, and made a point of dividing her time between the two groups. Despite being asked about the Cullens' secrets, especially Jessica and Mike, Evelyn never said anything, just rolling her eyes playfully and changing the subject.

She was now in biology class, Jasper by her side, extremely close to her. In fact, it was just to smell Eve's vanilla scent and not focus on the blood circulating through the other students' veins.

They were dissecting a frog, something Evelyn didn't really appreciate from her expression. Jasper laughed slightly at Eve's antics, who almost refused to cut the poor animal's belly. She handed the scalpel to the vampire, telling him he should do it. He accepted without complaint.

However, in the middle of the class, a distracted student slightly cut his finger with the scalpel. Evelyn saw a small drop of blood escape from the cut, and her eyes widened. Beside her, Jasper tensed, his jaw clenched and fists closed. He immediately pulled away from Evelyn and held his breath. The only thing that was stopping him from attacking was Evelyn, but even so he wouldn't be able to maintain control for much longer.

However, Evelyn didn't let him get too far, quickly grabbing Jasper's hand. She suddenly stood up in her chair, making a loud noise that caught the teacher's attention.

"Sorry! Blood, dizzy. I have to leave." She explained as succinctly as possible. The teacher nodded, looking at her strangely. She pulled the vampire with her. "Jasper has to come with me. To help me."

Without waiting for the teacher's answer, the two hurried out of the classroom, going as far away from the room as possible. They were at the end of the hallway, close to the exit doors.

Jasper, who was letting the scent of his mate consume his body, looked at her in surprise. "You know." he whispered.

"Surprise?"

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Jasper quickly took her to his car, heading to their house. He received a text from Alice saying that they were behind him, having heard what happened thanks to their sharp hearing.

The two remained silent, as Evelyn had said that she would explain it to everyone at the same time, as it would be easier if everyone was present.

Jasper nodded, but asked only one question. "Aren't you afraid of me?"

"No," she answered with certainty. "You don't know, Jasper, but there are many monsters in this world. You and your family are far from that."

They finally arrived at the Cullen mansion, and Evelyn looked at the house in adoration. They lived a little isolated from the rest of the city, near the edge of the forest. The house was large, with lots of glass that let in light. The walls were made of wood, giving it a rustic and classic feel, perfect for the Cullens.

The door opened and Evelyn saw two people, looking older but still extremely beautiful with their pale skin and amber eyes.

"Jasper? Is everything alright?" the woman, who Evelyn realized was Esme, asked. "Is that Evelyn?"

"Yes, hello!" she smiled at the couple, letting Jasper put a hand on her back and lead her to the entrance of the house. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. and Mr. Cullen."

"Please, call us Esme and Carlisle. You really are as beautiful as Jasper said." Esme said, opening the door wider for them to enter. Behind them, the rest of the Cullens' cars had arrived and everyone was heading inside, their eyes fixed on Evelyn.

"What's going on?" the clan leader asked, confused.

"She knows." Jasper said simply, but never taking his eyes off Eve.

"Well, I certainly have to tell you the truth now." Evelyn tried to calm her pounding heart. "I wasn't sure what you were, because I've met some of your kind who were… different. But the pale skin, the fact that you never ate, all signs pointed to you being vampires."

Evelyn saw Rosalie open her mouth, but cut her off before she could speak. "Don't worry, Rose, I won't say anything. After all, I have a secret too. And I really don't want it to be revealed."

"You can trust us, darling." Jasper promised, taking a small step toward her unconsciously. He needed to be closer to her.

"I know." She smiled slightly. "I am, this is going to sound weird I know, but I am the daughter of Aphrodite, goddess of love and fertility."

"So you're what? A demigod?" Emmett asked, his mouth slightly open. When Evelyn confirmed, he turned to his wife, "See? I got it right!"

Rosalie rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. Alice was the next to speak, "What does that mean? What can you do?"

"Quite unlike the children of the other gods, I have no powers. I know how to fight, but only because I've been trained since I was three. Demigods, those who are recognized by their parents at least, go to a camp. There we train to… to kill monsters."

"What kind of monsters?" Lucas crossed his arms, bringing Alice closer to him. Jasper glared at him, when he saw Evelyn's face fall.

"Oh, not you. Another type of monster. You know Furies, Minotaur, Mimas, and the list goes on." She revealed, seeing the shocked looks of the vampire clan. "Anyway, I'm just pretty. I attract attention. But the children of Athena are smart, the children of Poseidon can control water. We all live together. And we go on quests to kill monsters and send them back to hell. That's also why I have dyslexia, all demigods have it. We are hyperactive, something that helps in battles."

"You're not just pretty. You're much more than that." Jasper quickly said, completely amazed by the girl.

"Thanks, Jasper. Well, on my last quest I went with my friends, but it didn't go well. I was the only survivor." Evelyn looked up to keep the tears from falling. "I had to get out of there. Try to live a normal life, for them."

The vampires looked at Evelyn sadly. "I never knew demigods were real." Carlisle whispered. He was completely surprised, as was the rest of his family.

"Yes, we try not to let anyone know. Our life is dangerous enough." Evelyn said, after controlling her emotions. What she didn't know, was that Jasper was helping her calm down. "The monsters chase us. They can sense that we are demigods. But here, in Forks, none have found me yet. I think it's because of the presence of so many supernatural beings."

"This is wicked!" Emmett exclaimed.

"So that's why I can't see what you're thinking?" Edward questioned. "Or because Alice didn't see you coming in her visions?"

"Sorry, what?" the blonde raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Some vampires have gifts, darling." Jasper explained, now walking the rest of the distance to stand next to Evelyn. His amber eyes looked at her with admiration. "Edward can read minds, Alice can see the future and I'm an empath."

"Oh, wow. That's — wow." The vampire family laughed at Evelyn's reaction. "But yes, maybe that's why. What do you hear in my mind?"

"Just static. It's like a barrier I can't get past." Edward explained.

"That's cool." Evelyn murmured, her eyes wide. "What about you? Do you have another form besides your human one like the vampires I know?"

"No." Carlisle replied, his curiosity heightened by the knowledge that there were other species. "Are you able, if you can, to tell us more about these... vampires?"

"They are extremely beautiful and seductive women under the control of the goddess Hecate. They are known to feed on the blood of men. Their true form is a woman with flaming hair, white skin, glowing red eyes, fangs, one prosthetic Celestial Bronze leg and one donkey leg and wings." Eve explained succinctly. She remembered the first time she had fought an Empousa, it wasn't fun. "The demigods can see her in her true form, so I can tell your species apart. But I don't know a lot about you, we focus more on the mythical creatures."

"We glow when exposed to the sun. And we don't drink human blood, only animal blood, hence the color of our eyes." Evelyn nodded, already knowing that last part. "And we're immortal, of course."

"Same." Evelyn shrugged. The family looked at her in confusion, their eyes wide and eyebrows raised. It seemed as if she was discovering a new world after so many years of life. "Demigods are a bit stronger than a mere human. And we have a few more abilities. But we can still die if we are injured. At twenty, we become immortal, which is when our powers are at their peak."

"How old are you?" Alice asked.

"I'm nineteen." Evelyn informed with a small laugh. "My ritual isn't until next year. So now you know."

Rosalie was the first to snap out of her shock and pulled Evelyn into a hug. Evelyn quickly hugged her back, happy that there were no more secrets, or so she thought. Alice hurried to join them, the three of them giggling, while the rest of the vampires watched them with smiles. They acted like real teenagers when they were together.

After talking to the Cullen family a bit more, she and Jasper went for a walk in the woods. He was somewhat relieved that they had an eternity together, and that he wouldn't have to watch her grow old without him.

"So you can feel what I'm feeling?" Evelyn found the courage to ask. Jasper nodded. "That's a little embarrassing. I don't know why I feel this way around you."

"I know why, darling." He stopped walking, causing Evelyn to stop as well. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Evelyn lost herself as she looked into Jasper's eyes. They held so much pain, but also adoration for her. But why? The forest had gone silent, even the birds had stopped singing, as if they knew something was going to happen.

Jasper's cool touch on her cheek was soothing, and it made her stomach turn. It was as if every time the vampire touched her, an electric shock spread through her body. All rational thoughts were forgotten and she could only focus on him.

"We're mates. I'm yours. And you're mine."

"I think I need to sit down."

[admirationandromantics]

Never have I ever...

Yes, this was a request, and it is not proofread! Anyways, hope you like it, and I'll be working on some more this evening. Don't know if I can post tonight though, but we'll see. Trying to stay optimistic, and finally exams are over so I can actually do whatever I want. Anyways, enjoy, and requests are still open <3

Small prequel to the story (not necessary for this one)

Word count: 2,5 k (Unedited)

The night was still young, music playing and people chatting. Thank god the Washingtons said yes to host, because this type of mess would’ve left me in tears. And we were barely getting started. I take another sip of my drink, hoping to get that good dizzy feeling a little quicker. 

“Boo!” Josh yells, grabbing me from behind. I shriek, giving a loud scream. He’s quick to put a hand over my mouth, almost too quick. Like he was anticipating it. 

“Jeez, sorry. Don’t scream, people are gonna think I murdered you or something” 

I clutch my chest, heart still beating hard and fast. This man will be the death of me. 

“You almost did” I whisper, hitting his head. He smiles, taking my hand in the air, pulling it up to his lips. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down my wrist, each peck more sensual than the last. During this, the eye contact remains, strong blue orbs cutting through me. It’s almost as if I can see how hard he wants to ravage me. The thought alone makes me heat up, underwear getting wetter. He notices my blush, which makes his signature smirk form on his lips. Oh… he’s thinking about stuff, that dark and sinister side of him taking over. 

“Hey guys… what are you doing?” Jess yells, stopping in the doorway. I jolt away quickly, looking down at my wrist. 

“My bracelet fell off, couldn’t fasten it on my own”

She looks convinced, maybe she knows how hard they actually are to click shut. She waves her hand, signalling for us to come. 

“Okay, anyways, drinking game and both of you are joining”

“Coming” I say, looking back at Josh. We’d been dating for a while now, though we hadn’t told the others yet. We wanted to figure things out on our own first, check that we matched. If it didn’t work out, it would affect all the others, and we would rather just try to get back to normal. 

He’s still staring me down, challenging me to leave him in the dark. I smile, taking hold of his hand and dragging him with me to the living room. Everyone is sitting on either the floor or the couch. 

“So, what are we playing?” I ask, sitting down beside Sam. Josh walks over to Chris, nudging his arm to give him room on the couch. 

“Never have I ever” Ashley answers unenthusiastically. I know she thinks the game is boring, that she already knows everyone’s secrets. Well, almost everyone. Emily lines up the shot glasses, laying them on the table in the middle of the crooked circle we’ve created. 

“Quick question” Sam asks. “Can we only ask about things we’ve done before, or can I ask anything? Like even if I’ve never done it” 

“You’ve never played before?” Matt asks, looking over at her. 

“Yes I have, but there are different versions of it” 

“You can ask anything you want” Jess answers, settling everything. “I’ll start” 

“Never have I ever had a thing for someone in this room”

I watch as every single one in the room takes a shot. Hard start I guess. I look over at Josh, who gives me a wink before pouring down the content. I take a deep breath, trying to get over the taste as quickly as possible. This was gonna be a long night. We continue the game, going in a circle so everyone gets to ask a question. Beth goes after Jess. 

“Okay, never have I ever stolen something”

Mike, Matt, Jess, Hannah and Josh drink. Emily looks over at Mike with contempt before questioning him. 

“When have you ever stolen something?” 

“Stole your heart, didn’t I” he grins, kissing her on the cheek. Hannah rolls her eyes, and Jess is looking at them a little too hard. If someone decided to dig into that, I wouldn’t want to be in the room. Matt breaks the silence, asking the next question. 

“Anyways, I have a good one. Drink if you’ve had sex with someone in the room” 

Everyone but Ashely, Jess, Chris and Matt drinks. I’m actually surprised. I would’ve thought that Jess and Matt would’ve gotten it going once or twice. Ashley and Chris were no surprises though, they couldn’t even confess to each other. It would take some time for them. 

I drink down the liquid, noticing Josh doing the same thing. He smiles, a sweet one that makes no one suspicious. I look away, getting to see Sam finishing her glass. 

“Something you wanna tell me?” I tease, looking over the room. 

“You need to get me more drunk to get anything out of me” she laughs, nudging my arm. 

“Okay, my turn” Mike exclaims, grunting a little from the last shots. 

“Never have I ever used knives while having sex”

I quickly take the shot, making sure to do it as discreetly as possible. Luckily, most eyes are on Josh, as he drinks up. 

“What? Why would you do that”

“You’re sadistic!” 

“Was this your idea, or your partner’s?” 

Josh just shakes his head in response, refusing to give them a satisfactory answer. I smile at him, trying to hold my laughter as everyone is teasing him. He gives me that known sinister smirk again, sitting up, capturing everyone’s eyes with his movement. 

“I think you missed a certain other person in the room who’s also had some experience in this area. Don’t give me all the attention” 

“Jerk” I mouth to him, everyone’s heads turning to me. Matt lets out a whispering exhale, and Ashley’s holding her hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. I put my hands up as a surrender. 

“I tried something. As if you guys haven’t done freaky shit” I say, my finger pointing over every single person in the circle. 

“To build on the sex-related ones” Emily starts, shifting everyone away from me. Thank god. 

“Never have I ever been tied up” 

I nervously take another shot, but calm down as more people join this one. Both Emily and Mike join, as well as Beth. Josh licks the rim of his glass, eye contact going hard before gulping down the liquid once again. 

Hannah is next in line, and I hope for a non-sex one. She glances around the room before taking a breath, the circle waiting in anticipation. 

“Never have I ever fucked in my best friends house” 

I drink at the same time as Sam, and we look at each other wide eyed. In MY house? She had sex under my roof without me knowing. 

“You had sex in my house??” We both shout at the same time. Many others drank as well, but our joined voices make everyone burst out in laughter. 

“When was this?” I ask, and she just smiles. 

“As if you’re gonna tell me yours. I’m not spilling any more than I have to” 

“Well, I hope at least you didn’t spill too much in MY house” I smirk, and she shoves me. A  particular loud “What” followed by Josh’s laughter makes us look on the other side. 

“Dude, what the hell, I haven’t even hosted yet” Chris exclaims, arms wide in confusion. 

“Don’t worry, we were quick, you didn’t even know” he laughs, giving me a little side glance. 

“Wait, that means… The only one you could’ve done it with was-” Josh smacks a hand over his mouth, making everyone shout at him. 

“Stop!”

“We wanna hear!”

He leans over to Chris, whispering something in his ear. This makes him stop squirming, and he removes the hand carefully as everyone is waiting in anticipation. 

“So” Jess begins. “Who was it” 

“Can’t tell, bro-code” 

She throws a pillow at him, causing a small snicker to escape his lips. The room fills with sighs as they don’t get to know who the culprit is. It’s me, I know it, Josh knows it, and not Chris knows as well. He raises his eyebrows my way, and I mouth a little “sorry” back. We weren’t gone for long when it happened. Just a quick thing in his bathroom while he and Ashley tried starting up the console in the living room. 

Sam goes next, facing me with a smug look. “You know, I’m still not over the knife-thing” My eyes widen, and I look at her pleadingly. She turns to the others, loving the power she holds. 

“Never have I ever done it outside, in the snow, on Blackwood Mountain” 

I thought it was gonna be worse, but Mike and Emily must definitely have done it there. I empty the glass once again, getting more used to the taste as we keep going. Josh does the same, and suddenly, everyone has a look of realisation on them. 

“Are you fucking kidding me” Sam exclaims happily, her theories were right. I look over at Mike and Emily, their glasses in front of them still full. Shit. I capture Josh’s eyes, and he’s already realised it. We gave ourselves away. Sam is laughing hysterically, holding onto me for support. 

“Like, I knew you were having good sex, but the whole ‘he must’ve learned to use his tongue from the gods’-thing is Josh? I don’t believe it!”

“Sam, shut up” I whisper, and she throws herself backwards, trying to regulate her breathing. 

“Wow, so I’m made of the gods?” he teases from across the room, and I roll my eyes. 

“Thank god that secret didn’t last long” Chris exclaims, breathing out in relief. Half of everyone here is laughing, and the rest is looking at us, expecting to hear more. 

“I hope you talk about me like that to your friends” Mike whispers to Emily. 

“Not much to talk about dear” 

“Okay fine” I shout, making the room silent. “You want drama, I’ll give it to you” I stand up, looking down at Sam. 

“Never have I ever, done the deed with a twin” 

Her mouth opens in shock, and people turn to look at Beth, who’s a brushing mess. Got ya Sam. I sit down again, a smirk forming on my lips. “What was it you said again Sam? Something about how incredibly sexy t-mmf” She moves her hand over my mouth, letting only muffled sounds come out. She leans over to my ear, whispering. “I got you, you got me. Even?” I shake my head, ready to let the world know about the things she’s said. “You know, that’s not the only thing you’ve said about Josh” 

I give a loud sigh, rolling my eyes and pulling her hand away. “Fine” 

During the whole ordeal, I notice Mike has to refill his glass, but everyone’s eyes are still on Sam, not seeing the small action. 

Her cheeks are tomato red, and everyone continues asking questions about them, which both refuse to answer. Josh is still looking at me, a subtle smirk in the corner of his lips. His eyes don't falter, staring intensely, undressing me with his mind. His tongue wets his lips as his orbs go down… down…

“Next one!” Emily shouts, interrupting our mental fucking. Ashley is next, but doesn't have one ready yet. I lean over to Sam, smiling as I whisper. “I hope you took the last shot” 

“Asshole” I fill her cup, urging her to do it. Her cheeks are still red, though most of us are getting messier and louder. This was a lot of alcohol, and the only ones not in deep were Matt, Ashley and Mike. Mike has a high tolerance, and the others hadn’t drunk much yet. I look over at Chris, and I think he had a few too many beers before we began. He’s still thriving though. Ashley finally finds a question, and Jess hushes us. 

“Never have I ever broken in somewhere” 

Matt and Josh drink alone, everyone eager yet again for them to spill the beans. Matt starts, not being shy about it. 

“It wasn’t anything major, me and some other guys wanted to impress some girls with our skills, and the outside arena was freezing” 

Hannah and Ashley smile, they already knows where this is going, and I do too. 

“So, we managed to get the lock to the gym building open, and played inside for a couple of hours”

“And was it worth it?” Mike asks, giving him a wink. “Hell yeah!”

Everyone gives coos and whistles while Matt just shakes his head. This must be the most ‘Matty’ crime that could’ve been done. 

“What about you Josh?” Beth asks, confused by when he’d broken in. I try to remember some time I knew about, but my mind is blank. I’m also eager to know this one. 

“Well” he looks over at me again, and I give an encouraging smile. “Her apartment” 

“What?”

I don’t know when he did this. Was I home? How long ago must it have been? He has a key, and he’s had that for a while. 

“It’s not breaking in if you have a key” I say. 

“What about the time I came through the window?”

“You’ve gone through the window?” I shout. This is news to me, when did he do this? Everyone in the room holds their breath, and some, their laughter. 

“When I surprised you in the shower!”

I think back. Some weeks ago, he scared me in the shower. I figured that I just left the door open, but I guess not. I mean, he did more than scare me in there…

“You still went through the window??”

“I feel like you’re focusing on the wrong things”

“No, I’m not!”

Everyone bursts out laughing, not being able to hold it. I look around for support for my cause, but only Sam shrugs her shoulders to me. 

“I guess I’ll be breaking in somewhere tonight”

“Not breaking in if I want you there” 

“Okay guys, we’re almost done” Chris adds, and he’s right. There’s only him and Josh left now, and after that, we’ll go back to whatever conversations we had before, ready to party the rest of the night. Drinking more than we should. 

“Never have I ever cleaned up my best friends house after fucking in it”

No one drinks. 

“You’ve got to be serious, man” he whines, done with Josh’s shit. 

“Sorry dude, I’ll do it next time”

“There should not be a next time!”

“Never will there ever be a next time in Chris’s place!” he shouts, and everyone drinks in solitary. Ashley does too, and the aggravation that was there is immediately filled with flushed cheeks and silence. They’re both adorable. 

“Finally” I exclaim, getting up on my feet. 

“Wait a second” Jess interrupts my exit. “We want to know more about you and Josh!” 

“No way”

“Like, has he given you over three orgasms in a row?” 

I look back, and Josh drinks. Everyone cheers and I walk to the kitchen to grab a beer. Jesus, this was gonna be a long night.

[lovebugism]

hehe for your summer fic fest!

 “are you okay? is the heat getting to you?”  w/ shy!reader x steve harrington! <3

maybe something like established relationship (or not) and he knows shy!reader won’t ever complain :)

love ur writing <3

thanks so much for your request angel! hope you like it!! — the one where you get sunburnt and steve calls you his lobster as a declaration of love (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Steve emerges from the blue pool water with oversized goggles covering the top half of his face. They leave a soft red indention around his eyes when he shoves them to his forehead to push back his wild strands of wet hair.

His chest heaves with labored pants, lungs aching after being denied air for over three minutes. He blinks salt water from his eyes and squints across the patio. Your lounge chair has your beach towel thrown over it but is entirely vacant of you. 

His heart deflates with a boyish disappointment when he realizes you weren’t around to see him break his breath-holding record.

“Where’d she go?” Steve shouts to Robin over the sounds of splashing water and roughhousing teenage boys. 

The brunette girl looks up from her book and glances at the empty chair beside her. She turns back to him and shrugs, all cool with dark sunglasses over her eyes. “Um, I don’t know… She went inside, like, a minute ago, I think.”

Steve pouts. “So no one was keeping time?” he wonders with an unabashed whine.

“I was... Then I got bored.”

“Great. Thanks, Robin,” the boy deadpans. 

He backstrokes to the steps of the pool and tries to avoid the splash war between Lucas and Dustin on the way there. 

He wipes his dripping skin with a fluffy towel before wrapping it around his waist. His wet feet leave dark prints against the burning pavement, drying just as quickly as they’re made. He walks by Mike and Will sitting beneath the poolside cabana, and then by Robin who doesn’t look up from her book, as he heads to the backdoor.

Steve stumbles backward when the glass entrance slides open. Max and El giggle into their ice cream cones as they walk by him, paying him exactly zero attention as they go. They both wear matching Xena Warrior Princess t-shirts over their bathing suits.

“Can you guys save me one of those? Jeez,” Steve asks with a laugh, only half-joking in his complaint. “You’ve both had, like, ten since you got here.”

El smiles shyly at him, tilting her chin to her chest as she peers up at him through her lashes. Her cheeks reddened — a combination of misplaced embarrassment and sun exposure. 

Max is a lot more sneering with her glare. She arches an auburn brow in a challenging leer. “You should go get your girlfriend,” the redhead monotones just before licking at her vanilla cone.

Steve’s brows furrow. “What?”

“She looked sick,” El concurs with a firm nod.

“What do you mean she looked sick?”

“She means that she looked like she was seconds away from puking her guts out,” Max explains in her usual dramatic inflection. Her lip quirks at the look on Steve’s face, the corner of it stained with ice cream.

“Oh. Jesus. Okay,” Steve murmurs with a scrunched face — a mixture of concern and disgust. 

Worry blooms in his chest at the thought of you being unwell. He hates the idea that you might’ve felt sick and were too nervous to tell him. He loves how soft you are but despises how polite you are shyness. You’re still frightened of being a burden, even though Steve tells you all the time you don’t have to be scared of being human.

The cool air of his house makes his skin prickle with goosebumps. It soothes his reddened skin as he ascends the stairs on a quest to find you. The door to the main bathroom is shut. A yellow light glows beneath it. The soft hiss of the faucet sounds muffled in the hallway.

Steve taps his knuckles at the closed entrance — gently in a mindful attempt not to frighten you.

“Babe?” he calls, face absentmindedly contorted with worry. “Are you okay?”

You mumble something unintelligible in response. He can’t quite make it out. The distance and the sink drown out your soft voice.

“Can I come in?”

Again, you just mumble. 

Steve’s chest burns with a fleeting panic. He’s momentarily terrified that you’re halfway passed out on his bathroom floor, lying barely conscious on the tile. He opens the door, slowly at first, just in case you want to slam it in his face for barging in. He knows you’re too soft for that, though. 

When you don’t protest, he walks all the way in. The door squeaks when he shuts it behind him.

He finds you, not on the floor, but leaning against the sink. You’re drowning in the t-shirt he gave you to wear as a cover-up. It’s oversized even on him, so it swallows you whole entirely. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes while you press a damp rag over your face. Your skin is tinted a warmer red after spending the afternoon in the sun.

You look beautiful, but very unlike yourself. Max wasn’t lying — you looked like you were seconds away from being sick all over his bathroom. He rushes to you, anyway.

“What happened?” Steve wonders quietly, brows pinched in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, slow and lazy.

“Was it too hot outside? Is the heat getting to you? Do I need to fight the sun?”

You nod this time, holding the cloth to the burning apple of your cheek.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry—” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, only that he feels the need to say it. 

He reaches out to touch you, to hug you to him so he can absorb all the sick you feel and take it all for himself — but you jerk back before his fingertips can reach you.

“Don’t,” you tell him quickly as you step backward. You drag the wet rag down to your chin and pout. “Don’t touch me. I think I might burn you.”

Steve grins a lopsided and very pink grin. “Yeah, I’ll take that risk, babe.”

When he reaches out to touch you this time, you don’t protest. 

You feel like an inferno. The cold rag is hardly making you cooler. Actually, you think your fiery skin might just be warming it all over again. 

It makes you feel sick — not a stomach kind of sick, or a simple-head cold kind of sick. Those you can fix pretty easily. This is different. Whatever this is. 

You feel icky all over, and with no real root to the problem, you don’t know how to fix it. You just have to hope the A.C. will eventually break through the barrier of fire dancing over your skin and that Steve’s magic touch will be able to help you through it.

His hands curl around your elbows, much cooler compared to how hot your skin feels. His fingertips just barely graze your arm before he jerks them away again. His face scrunches in a halfhearted frown, feigning hurt as he pulls back like you’ve burned him.

“Ooh,” he winces playfully.

You pout while Steve laughs at his own dumb joke.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he assures through his laughter.

He swipes his fingers over your cheek to smooth the damp hair sticking to your temple — maybe from sweat, or water from the rag, or a combination of both. His face contorts with concern all over again. “You are warm, though, babe. Like, crazy warm.”

“I think the sun is trying to burn me alive,” you monotone, only half-joking. 

Steve takes the damp rag from your weak, trembling hands. He sticks it beneath the running faucet to rewet it for you. When it’s sufficiently soaked, he wrings it out with one hand and turns the sink off with the other.

“Here. Up,” he commands with a halfhearted wave, motioning you to sit on the counter. 

You try your best to abide him, but you’re too tired to do anything more than rise to the tips of your toes. Steve helps urge you backwards with his broad hands on your hips, encouraging you further back until your feet are dangling off the ground.

He stands in between your thighs. You lean into his touch when he dabs the colder rag against your forehead.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Steve wonders with worry softening his tone. “I coulda got you inside before it got this bad. And I would’ve made all those shitheads go home before they made it worse.”

“That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you,” you confess, slurring from the sudden exhaustion that settles heavy on top of you. He brings the rag to your right cheek and presses it there for a few beats. “Everyone’s having such a good time. I didn’t wanna ruin it because I’m a baby…”

Steve scoffs out a laugh and holds the cloth to your left cheek. “You’re not a baby because you’re melting like an ice cream cone, babe. That’s not your fault.”

“Well, no one else is getting a cold rag pressed against their face by Steve The Hair Harrington,” you retort in a tone so soft that he can’t tell if you’re joking or not. He figures you might be toeing the line between both, still halfway delirious in your heatstroke.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I don’t love them like I love you.”

You cower at his words, not expecting him to be so suddenly affectionate. 

You’ve had a hard time getting used to that — his incessantly flirtatious disposition. It’s hard having an aversion to compliments, but it’s harder dating someone who loves to give them. 

Steve smiles when he watches you go all shy. You always get so sheepish when he loves on you, so pretty in the way you get all bashful. It isn’t any wonder why he loves to do it so much.

“Feel any better?” the boy asks when the corner of your lip quirks in a shy half-smile.

“A little… Do I still look sick?” you question, blinking at him with your eyes not as glazed over. “Maybe don’t answer that,” you protest quickly after.

Steve drops the rag to the counter and drags his knuckle across your cheek. Your skin isn’t quite as warm, but it still glows a faint red — obviously sun-kissed. “You look beautiful, babe. You always do. Even though you kinda look like a lobster.”

“I just said not to answer!”

“Lobsters are cool!” Steve defends at your pouting. “I like lobsters! Everyone likes lobsters!”

You don’t want to laugh, still feeling a bit too sick, but he makes it dreadfully hard not to. A halfhearted giggle sputters from your lips at his high-pitched assurance before you can stop it.

He smiles at your smiling, wide palms squeezing gently at your knee. “Lobsters actually mate for life,” he singsongs with raised brows and a crooked grin. “Betcha didn’t know that…”

“I think that was disproven, actually,” you squint.

“No, it’s true! Wanna know how I know?”

He’s fishing for a reply. You know it, but you bite anyway. You humor him with a nod, the corners of your lips lifting in an anticipatory smile.

He steps closer to you. His hips press into the edge of the countertop as his palms smooth up your thighs and settle on your waist. His honey eyes sparkle at you when he tilts his head and peers at you from beneath his lashes. 

“’Cause you’re my lobster,” he confesses with a scrunched nose. “And you’re also my soulmate— and one plus one equals two, and blah blah blah…”

“I’m your lobster?” you humor in a high-pitched whisper, eyes twinkling with fatigue and adoration.

Steve beams, grinning at you like the lovesick idiot he is. “Yep. You’re my lobster. Take it or leave it, sweetheart.”

“I’d love to be your lobster, Stevie,” you tell him, giggling through your promise.

“We’ve said that word too many times, I think. It’s started to lose meaning now,” he says with his own breathy chuckle right before pressing his mouth to yours. He tastes like sunscreen, blue skies, and vanilla ice cream — like heaven and the rest of your life.

Steve kisses you breathless, telling you all the words he can’t say out loud with his pink lips slotted between yours. 

He hopes you know that was his dumb, roundabout way of promising forever with you. You kiss him like you do, anyway.

[somethingvicked]

Not a Sound

An Eddie Munson one-shot.

warnings: mentions of death, Vecna, the Upside Down, demobats, vaginal fingering, handjob. No use of Y/N.

 ”No way,” Steve said, cutting through the air with the palm of his hand to emphasize his words. ”We stick together, no matter what. We’ll all sleep in the living room, it’s safest.”

You sighed. Steve’s reasoning was logical – you were all stuck in the Upside Down, but… it surely didn’t work with what you wanted. Or Eddie. You could see the disappointment in his big, dark eyes, as well as how his plump bottom lip suddenly poked out as he pouted.

Until recently, you and Eddie barely knew each other, but since you had been a part of the gang all the way from the start (when Will disappeared and El showed up) you knew of him of course, being close with Dustin, Mike and Lucas.

And, you couldn’t deny you found the metalhead attractive. His wild curls, chocolate brown eyes and full lips. His hands that were always gesturing about something, fingers decorated with rings. You knew he played the guitar and you could just imagine how it would feel holding his hand, feeling the calluses on his fingers. Or more…

You had asked Dustin if Eddie was single, and the boy had rolled his eyes – you didn’t know why at the time – and told you to ask his Dungeon Master out. You were about to do just that when the nightmare hit. Chrissy Cunningham found dead in the Munson trailer, apparently wrecked beyond recognition. Eddie nowhere to be found, making him the prime suspect.

Even though you barely knew Eddie, you had agreed with Dustin that there was no way Eddie could have done that. Something else was up.

And it was confirmed when you all managed to track Eddie down and he told you what had happened. How it had resembled a scene out of The Exorcist and he couldn’t do squat about it.

Then it was your turn to speak. You told him the truth about the Upside Down, about the monsters and how it had all started three years ago with El and Will Byers disappearance.

You had to give Eddie credit – he was still scared and confused but he took it way better than most people would’ve.

One would have thought that the fact that more teenagers fell victim to the "curse", as Dustin had named it, would be enough to clear Eddie but no.

Fred died. Patrick died. And Max was next.

You had to stop it and clear Eddie’s name. That’s why earlier that evening you, Steve, Nancy and Robin had gone out on Lover’s lake, trying to find the gate where the monster, now nicknamed Vecna, had come through to kill Patrick. If there was a gate through then there must be a way to close it, right?

Steve had dove into the lake and come up a moment later to tell you he had found it but he had barely gotten the words out when something dragged him under.

Nancy hadn’t hesitated a second but dove into the lake, you and Robin quickly following suit. Eddie joined you, you noticed, as you came out on the other side.

Steve had nearly been strangled, and bitten by the monster bats, now named demobats. Robin had twisted an ankle and the rest of you were soaked through the bone and tired after the fight.

You couldn’t help but admire Eddie – after the bats had flown away – how he fought against them, swinging the oar as if it was a sword. It made your core tingle.

It was decided you would go to Nancy’s house to fetch her guns, so you would have something to defend yourself with, before trying to find a way back.

You and Eddie walked beside each other, a little bit slower than the others, talking.

”So...” Eddie said, smiling a little. ”This a regular thing for you guys?”

You chuckled. ”I wouldn’t say ’regular’. But yes, it happens more often to us than other people.”

”Damn. Here I am making up monsters and other worlds for my party and half of them has already experienced it in real life,” Eddie said, shaking his head. "They must find them lacking."

”Dustin and the others love Hellfire,” you said, ”and they love you as their DM. I haven’t seen Dustin be in so awe of someone since he met Steve.”

Eddie snorted, looking away. ”Yeah, Steve Harrington... would you think me a loser if I admit that sometimes… sometimes I’m a little jealous of how close he and Dustin are? It’s stupid, right? Why should I care what that little punk thinks, but… I do.”

You took his hand and squeezed it. ”I don’t think you’re a loser. I think it’s sweet that Dustin’s opinion means so much to you. That shows he means something to you and it makes me glad, because Dustin means a lot to me too.”

Eddie smiled, looking down at your joined hands. ”Would you… think me a loser if I admit that I’ve all but pumped him on information about you too?” he then asked, his voice low. ”What’s your favorite food, favorite movie, what music you listen to... if you have a boyfriend?” he continued, looking into your eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that both of you had stopped walking, now just standing on the path and looking at each other.

You shook your head. ”N-no,” you whispered. ”Because… I asked Dustin if… if you were seeing someone and he told me to ask you out.”

Eddie inhaled deeply, his lower lip disappearing in between his front teeth. You wanted to have that lip between your teeth, feeling irrational jealousy.

”Hey!” Steve barked, making both of your heads snap towards him in sync. ”Keep up! We need to stick together.”

 Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes but increased your pace, still hand in hand, so you were soon caught up with the others.

An unpleasant surprise awaited you at Nancy’s house though. It turned out that her guns weren’t there, that it seemed the whole house was stuck somewhere in the past.

So now you had no guns to protect yourselves with and no real idea how to get out. And outside you could hear the sounds of demobats and who knew what else.

”I say we stay here for a couple of hours, catch our breath,” Steve said, clearly still in pain from the bites of the demobats. Robin seemed to agree, sitting down and resting her twisted ankle.

”I'll get the first aid kit,” Nancy said, ”that should be here at least.”

After Steve’s wounds had been disinfected and patched up with something better than Nancy’s makeshift bandage and Robin had gotten a cooling pad to rest against her ankle you cleared your throat.

”Alright, it’s probably good if we try to get some sleep. Me and the girls can stay in Nancy’s room and you and Eddie can take Mike’s.”

Most of all you wanted to share a room with Eddie, but that would be too obvious – Steve would probably accuse you of being insane for even thinking about being intimate in a moment like this. But there was a possibility you could sneak away when the others had fallen asleep and meet up in another room.

”No, no way,” Steve said, shaking his head. ”We’re sticking together, it’s safest. And we can take turns keeping watch so nothing gets in. We’ll all sleep in the living room.”

Robin snorted. ”Who died and made you general?” she said ironically, then her eyes widen and she glanced over at Eddie, remembering that someone – more than one – had died in fact. And Eddie had witnessed one of them.

”It’s a good plan,” Nancy agreed with Steve. ”We can bring down the mattresses to make it more comfortable but I agree it’s safer sticking together.”

Eddie had that disappointed look on his face again, but he nodded, realizing that bickering about it wouldn’t do any good.

You each dragged the mattresses from the rooms down to the living room and Eddie gave you a sudden flirty grin when he pulled his mattress next to yours.

You smiled back, glad to have him close at least. Maybe you could wait until the others was asleep and sneak away, to the bathroom, perhaps?

You all laid down and Nancy said she would take first watch, a kitchen knife in close reach on the coffee table, should any monsters come inside.

You and Eddie laid on your mattresses, holding hands, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, while your free hand was playing with his hair.

As soon as Steve’s snores started and Robin’s breaths evened out you gave Eddie a wink and started to get up from your mattress.

”Where are you going?” Nancy immediately asked.

”Umm… bathroom,” you said, blushing, even though you knew she couldn’t see it in the darkness.

”I’ll go with you. Eddie, you’re still awake? You keep watch while we go.”

”I can go with her to the bathroom,” Eddie offered and but Nancy clearly didn’t catch the drift. ”That makes no sense. We’re both girls, it’s safer if I go into the bathroom with her – you would need to wait outside the door, that leaves you vulnerable.”

You sighed, knowing that unless you wanted to reveal yourselves completely you had to do what Nancy said.

After you came back you laid back on your mattress, back to holding Eddie’s hand and stroking his face.

Eddie stroked your cheek, letting his finger follow the outline of your lips. You couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the tip of his finger.

He inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. Despite the darkness in the room you could’ve sworn you saw his pupils dilate.

You licked your suddenly dry lips, the tip of your tongue sliding over Eddie’s finger, making his nostrils flare.

You slid your hand down from his face, down his chest, his firm stomach and in beneath the shirt, playing with the trail of hair leading down into his jeans. You felt the cold metal of his handcuff belt buckle and it made you rub your thighs together, already feeling the material of your panties sticking to the lips of your cunt from the wetness.

Eddie moved one hand down to your breast, carefully squeezing, making you whimper, and he immediately shook his head, giving you a teasing grin that clearly said: ”don’t make a sound.”

Eddie swiftly ran his hand down to your jeans, popping the button open and slid his fingers inside, pulling the crotch of your panties aside to get to your pussy. He gasped when he felt your wetness and you gave him the same grin, waving your free finger in his face. ”Don’t make a sound.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at you but he got serious again when you tried to undo his belt, as silent as possible so Nancy wouldn’t hear. Quickly he helped you with his free hand, so you were finally able to slip your hand into his boxers, finding him rock hard and leaking.

Now it was your turn to nearly gasp, but Eddie quickly put his free hand over your mouth, muffling the sound. Without a beat you started sucking on his thumb while your hand started to pump his cock in the same rhythm.

Eddie bit his lip so hard you thought it was going to bleed as he tried to buck his hips against your hand as silently as possible, all while his fingers teased your slit.

He hadn’t pushed one inside yet, just sliding them through your folds, soaking them thoroughly in your wetness, making sure to rub against your clit every time he moved them upwards.

You bit his thumb, a silent prayer and he gave you that cocky grin again as he finally pushed his middle finger inside, his thumb on your clit.

You felt the metal of his rings against your cunt, all nerves on end, but they had grown warm from your body heat, so it wasn’t uncomfortable.

The barrier of your jeans muffled the wet sounds as Eddie fingered you, you sucking on his thumb as hard as you could whilst jerking his cock harder and harder, precum leaking down from his tip and spreading every time you went up and then down.

You wanted to pull your hand out and taste it but both of you were too lost in the sensation now.

You felt the tingling feeling starting to spread from your pussy, up to your belly and along your spine, making you trying to spread your legs wider, pressing against Eddie’s hand.

He now used the heel of his hand to rub your clit, so he could put more fingers inside you, first his index finger joined the middle one and then when you nodded encouragingly he slid the ringfinger inside again. You felt so full, and yet it felt like it wasn’t enough. Not enough and yet too much at the same time.

You weren’t sure how you would be able to keep quiet as your orgasm approached and Eddie seemed to have the same struggle as you, sweat dampening his bangs, the veins on his neck standing out as you felt his cock twitch in your grip.

Quickly Eddie turned his head to the side and bit down on the mattress as you felt his cock spurt, his warm seed spilling all over your hand and the inside of his boxers. Despite your own situation you couldn’t help but smile, even forgetting about your own pleasure for a second as you kept pumping him until he had grown completely soft in your hand, clearly with nothing more to give you.

Then Eddie perked up, increasing his pace, his fingers inside you crooking and seeking for your special spot, finding it without a beat, making your eyes widen at the sudden pleasure slamming into you. You bit down on Eddie’s thumb as hard as you could, closing your eyes in bliss and at the same time fighting against the impulse of screaming your euphoria to the heavens.

Eddie kept going until you had sunk back like a sack of vegetables, feeling totally boneless.

You opened your eyes and you and Eddie grinned at each other. He removed his hand from your mouth, shaking it a little.

”Ow,” he silently mouthed at you and you bit back a chuckle.

”Sorry,” you mouthed back, removing your hand from his boxers, looking at the remnants of his cum covering your hand. Without another beat you started sucking on your own fingers, making Eddie gape at you.

Not to be outdone he quickly mimicked you, sucking your juices from his own fingers.

Then, he looked at you, tilting his head like a puppy before moving closer and carefully kissing you, making you taste yourself on his lips, as he surely did on yours.

Then you heard Nancy getting up and you froze, wondering if you had alerted her to what you were doing. But she walked over to Steve’s cot and shook him.

”Hey,” she said softly, ”it’s your turn to keep watch. But if you’re tired I can keep going. You lost a lot of blood after all.”

”Maybe we can both get some rest,” Steve said, deep in thought. ”It has been rather calm, right? Nothing happening?”

”Nothing,” Nancy confirmed, making you bite your lip to stop the laughter bubbling up inside you from coming out, ”not a sound.”

You supposed she was right about that.

taglist: @ali-r3n @melodymunson @quinnyficsy @jenniquinn

Please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle

[cameronspecial]

The Speed Of Light

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: All Y/N wants is to be in Rafe's arms and he is prepared to do that no matter what it takes.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Distance from Rafe isn’t something Y/N often struggles with. Sure, she likes to cuddle with him and be in physical contact with him, but she doesn’t need to do it every second of the day. She likes to have her alone time and Rafe respects that need. However, something in her today just craved to be in his hold and unlucky for her, this wasn’t his day off. In fact, he is supposed to stay late to help his dad with paperwork. She knows she shouldn’t ask him to come home, yet all she wants is to be in his arms right now. She takes her phone out and sends him a text: Are you coming home soon? His reply is just as quick. No, Bunny. I’ll probably be home past dinner time, so you can eat without me. 

Oh…

Why oh? Is everything okay?

Everything is fine. I just miss you. That’s all. She quickly follows the text with I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll let you get back to work.

Rafe is already standing at his desk and heading to his dad’s office before she can send the second text. “I know I said I would work late tonight, but Y/N needs me. I’ll finish it tomorrow morning,” he informs his dad, not asking for permission because he doesn’t care if he has it. Ward looks up from the report he is looking at, “Okay, that’s fine. Say hello to Y/N for me.” Rafe nods, going to his car without thought. I’m on my way, Bunny. She can’t hide her massive grin once she sees the message. It’s been around thirty minutes and Rafe isn’t home yet, which is strange because it should only take ten minutes to get here from his workplace. She grows worried that something happened to him, so she calls him. “Hi, Bunny,” he greets through the speakerphone. She sighs in relief, “I thought something bad happened to you. Why aren’t you home yet?” “You are very clingy today aren’t you, Bunny?” he playfully teases. “I’m sorry I scared you and I’m not home yet, but they closed a bunch of roads and there was an accident. Apparently, the Outer Banks can get pretty bad traffic.” 

“Well, can’t you use your boyfriend or Cameron's powers to get you through?” she pleads, kneading at the pillow. He chuckles, “I don’t think they can do anything about the traffic, Bunny. I’m sorry. I will be there at the speed of light though, I promise. Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll take you out to dinner.” “Hmm, I don’t want to go out for dinner. Can you pick up something at the Wreck instead? I want to cuddle,” she explains. He shakes his head with a smile, “Okay, I can do that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” “Thank you. I love you. See you soon,” she states. His heart swells, “I love you too. Bye.” He hands up the phone. 

———

Ten minutes later, which is way faster than Y/N thought he would be coming, she hears his truck in the driveway. She flings the door open to see him with his arms held open to her. She runs into his arms, giving him a tight squeeze. He presses his kiss to her temple. She takes in the scent of his colognes, “How did you get home so fast?” “I told you I would be home at the speed of light,” he recounts. “Plus, I guess my Cameron powers were better than I thought because I was able sweet talk Shoupe to open up another road and Mike owed me a favour so he got our food out real fast.” She looks up at him with big eyes, “You did all of that for me?” “Of course. I would do anything for you, Bunny. Now, come on. Let’s eat,” he says with his lips against her forehead. He takes her inside and flops on the couch, throwing his arm over the back of the couch so she can settle in beside him. That night is spent cuddled up on the sofa, eating and watching TV. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[2222bad]

TURKEY, GREENS, AND…

[you made dinner, but mike is hungry for something else…] | 2.1k words

WARNINGS: fem! reader , sexual themes , fingering , oral (f! receiving) , penetration , dirty talk , another size kink if you squint

[1991]

he’d called a few hours ago to let you know he’d be home late. you’d thought, by the grace of something holy, you’d be fast asleep by the time he slips into bed with you, but it becomes clearer as the night grows heavier that you too had begun to adapt to michael’s nocturnal tendencies. perhaps begrudgingly, you are wide awake. so you wait for him while your cornbread cools by the oven, still hot from the turkey dinner you made while he was gone, flicking aimlessly through the late night channels, legs curled under you until, well past midnight, you hear his key turn in the door.

he seems surprised to see you bumbling to the foyer, displaying you’d been strong enough to wait up. and he seems quite pleased by it, wrapping his arms around you and dipping you in love.

you beam at his sleepy doting. “hi, baby.”

“hi, angel,” he muses, capturing your lips in a devout kiss. “i didn’t wake you did i?”

you shake your head, nuzzle against him, the heady scent of him slipping into your nose and warming every nerve. his cologne, sweet hair oil, the perfect treat he was for you. “i missed you.”

“i missed you more,” he answers. his voice low, tired. his fingers squeeze you closer like he wants to bring you somewhere.

you size him up, arms secure around his neck. “did you eat at all while you were over there?”

he chuckles boyishly, already used to the question, and the repercussions of fibbing to get out of it. “no. we didn’t have time.”

you figured just as much, but could strangle bill and ted anyway. “well, i’ll heat up dinner for you, baby, you must be starving.”

you fail to notice that his grip on you doesn’t fall away easy. the fabric of your shirt, that he so aptly attempts to grab a hold of, slips urgently through his fingers and that’s when he notices. that’s his shirt. one of his collared button-downs draped over you like a nightgown.

those ardent eyes trail after you on the way through the house like you were a pie wafting on a windowsill. his bottom lip disappears beneath his teeth, seemingly staving off temptation.

“smells good, baby,” he says as casually as he can muster it and his ���good’ comes out like gary, indiana snuck in through the backdoor and yawned back into his bones. you hum into a smile, the sound melting you delightfully like a popsicle on the fourth of july.

“it’s the cornbread,” you simper, bare feet padding onto the clear kitchen tiles. you bend into the fridge light. the tail of michael’s shirt betrays you, giving way to a glimpse of your panties. “your mom gave me the recipe for her turkey and greens. did you want all of it?” then, in the drawer at your hips, silverware clink and dink in your fingers, the large dinner plate you had wrapped in foil sat right beside you on the kitchen island. “i can just give you the turkey if you don’t want the whol—“

your face flushes a becoming red, surprise beams all the way down to the tips of your toes. you shift and feel nearly every inch of michael, spread out and solid, against your body through the fierce strain in his pants. you laugh, you think, but it comes out like a twist between a gasp and a gulping sound. you feel michael’s hands sneak around your waist, pulling you into his needy embrace, his mouth bending to your skin, sweeping onto your neck with gluttonous kisses.

you find his hands with yours, eyes fluttering closed to the heat of his touch. “don’t you want dinner?”

he doesn’t respond, just slips his hands beneath his shirt. slow palms wipe your skin with a sweetness, finding your breasts bare as he tenderly cups them. the shirt raises, exposing your near nakedness below.

“aren’t you hungry, baby?” you try again, though your voice only sighs meekly, cowering your head back onto his collarbone. tension quickly falls from you.

“‘s not what i’m hungry for,” he replies, simply, still mouthing along your neck.

“baby…”

he hums into your shoulder, sending vibrations dipping all down your body like it was a line on the telephone.

“you look so good in my shirt.” the ‘good’ dancing out again like sipping iced tea on the rickety back porch.

his skin grazes your nipples delectably, the decadence makes you want to fill your mouth with something. his unoccupied hand sweeps down your belly. you welcome his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties.

“mm mm mm,” he marvels at the feel of you with a shake of his head. your neck now slick with the remnants of his tongue.

michael places his weight on your back, sandwiching you between his fingers making a mess of you and his dick gliding against the fabric still covering you from behind. your moans come out weakly, his arms like a harness for you to lean into as you slip your hips back and forth, grinding on each other.

“i’ve always wanted t’…t’ do it here,” he whispers, huskily.

“me too…” and you have. you often imagined it like this, after dona would go for the day, just the two of you, making love, hands begging for mercy against the counter, and finding nothing to grab.

you shiver against him. he swipes deep between your legs with his middle finger. slick stains his skin.

that was all he needed. his shoe nudges your heels as he slides it in between your feet and you tip toe your legs apart, the way you open feels serene in his baptized hands. “that’s it…that’s it, baby…my baby…” he coos, coaxing you. his open mouth huffing like a furnace. “you gonna give it to me?”

your hands cup the edge of the marble, wordless.

“hm?”

your temples sweat as you nod your answer. “mhm.”

his hand rebounds, wetting your belly as he pulls it away. that sweet ache he leaves you with sends a whine up throat.

“bend over.”

you had no time, no desire, to question what’d gotten into him, like a hound on a leash, you obey. he kneels down, observing your thighs quivering with the strain of arousal. his touch is light and ticklish as his hands sail up the back of your legs, pushing his shirt over your hips and effortlessly dragging your panties down. he, with his manners shining, stretches the fabric in his fingers so you can step out of them, expanding the dark spot where you soaked through. with a light pull on your shin, he beckons you around.

seeing him down on one knee sent your heartbeat seething through you. you pulse, flowering like his face was the sun. he brings your foot up to his knee, resting the sole on it. you watch him wet three fingers in his mouth, a concentrated lust brewing. he touches you gently, spreading your lips apart like he was searching for a jewel. he smiles when he finds it. but he doesn’t let himself win it yet.

he flicks his gaze up at you and then down at her, like he was proud of it. “pretty girl…” he whispers, his tongue peaking out from between his perfect smiling teeth.

he lifts his head to you, slowly, pointedly, zig zagging his tongue from the bottom to the top, humming his eyes shut as your scent envelops him. heavy, sweet, the tip of his tongue now covered in your slick pool. his sweet mouth seals around your clit, sucks and licks, one hand cradles your ankle, the other stabilizes your trembling hip. he swallows the longing as it spills down his throat.

“oh—michael—y-yes.” your hands sweep into his hair, not pulling, but leading the loose curls into your fists, massaging his head like a house cat. “yes,” you whimper, rocking into his tongue, feeling so good, feeling so free. it’s your house and you can have your man; your pop-star; the king between your legs, in your kitchen, whenever you so please.

his eyes open, eyelashes aflutter, as he guides his fingertips to your throbbing core, already clutching around the idea of him. it’s easy, when he slides each of them inside and curls deftly. two of his knuckles bend into your ridged wall, petting you in all ways. you keep your hands in his hair, breathlessly moaning, stepping onto his thigh deeper with each nudge of his fingers and tongue, each suckle from his lips. your mouth slacks as you come, body elated and shaking while he sucks it up, still caressing you inside until you keel over his head, his mouth berating you to bliss like an incessant drum. then, he stops, soft and loving, giggling under your belly.

you let him up, the muscles in your abdomen utterly spent.

“you alright, baby?” he cups your face in his talented hands, gazing into your eyes. his smile smug. triumphant.

“y-yes,” you pant.

his thumb brushes over your lips. gentle. “you want more?”

you answer like a girl possessed, “yes.”

what time was it? what did it matter? the food? oh…you forgot all about that.

“you want it right here?”

he peers into your eyes, they’re flooded with silent pleading.

“i want it right here,” you echo, lips parted, words pour out of you like a most desperate beg.

his lips collapse into yours, the kisses between you quick and clouded by passion. your hands tug fabric from his pants, knocking into tight muscles, soft and smooth on your fingers. his zipper lowers with a high pitched grind, his lips all over you, wildly claiming skin as your breath sweeps out of you in gusts. michael kisses down your neck and licks back up the muscle, closing his mouth around your earlobe.

his hands grab and spin you, pressing his palm to your lower back. as you lay your chest flat to the surface, you look at him, his eyes cast down to the pearling between your legs.

“mmm…baby.” he eases against the opening. you part for him without any toil and he rocks you into a dream, one so entangled in love.

tears fill your eyes to accompany your whimpering at the depth of him. all of his girth barely squeezing inside, especially not from this angle. your body arches into whatever irrepressible sensation he gives. you love him, you thought, you love him so much.

his hips speed. quicker and quicker, but loving all the same. his hands cull your body up to drape his head against your shoulder. with his hold on you, you can feel his heart beating. you can feel it everywhere. in a sudden bite of passion, you drag your knee up on the counter edge and he groans, edging deeper inside.

“you don’t understand what you do to me.” he begins to chant into your ear, sweating from all his longing. “you don’t understand…” he shakes his head, his voice a broken plea. “you don’t understand, baby.”

you hook your arm around his head, your folded shirtsleeve drooping up on your bicep. you pull him in, looking deeply into his doe eyes.

“make me…make me understand—i—i wanna—ah—understand.” your breath comes out in hitches, sucking the air from your words.

a soft growl rumbles from him. the heat from his body, the heat from his thrusts grasping you, trampling every thought and function. he rolls his fingers around your clit and you quiver inside. again and again and again until you’re whimpering.

“c’mon, baby, c’mon, baby.” he hooks onto your mouth, the kiss deep and fast as you tighten into orgasm, a spasm tumbling around his throbbing width. slowly reopening, unable to recover, you feel yourself spill over, slipping and shaking along his length like grooving waves. your leg gently comes down as he empties you with a quickness. he holds your gasping body close to him as he pumps his length, wet with your arousal, and comes into his fist.

the afterglow looks hazy, sleepy, and smiling. your hands rub his face affectionately, your lips kiss the corner of his mouth. “you want your dinner now?”

michael lets out a noise that resembles a snort. you look at him with a confused smile…you’re not joking.

[pearlessance]

The Hand That Feeds - Idle Threats [iii]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Chapter Summary — Tommy sets Joel up on a date with a lovely, soft spoken, age appropriate woman at the Tipsy Bison. He has a much better time in the restroom with a little girl who can’t keep his fingers out of her mouth.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI, brat taming, age gap, mean!Joel, religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt, jealousy, light angst

SERIES MASTERLIST

[cross posted to AO3]

When Joel wakes up the next morning, several hours later than usual, Tommy’s already sitting at the table beside Ellie. Maria is there too, smiling affectionately at the two of them as they bicker back and forth about one of the horses in the stables.

“She’s crazy,” Tommy says. “Always buckin’ and snappin’ at people. And she goes on hunger strikes, too. As if we don’t already worry about feeding ‘em.”

“Oh my God, dude,” Ellie grumbles. She stands from the table and disappears into the kitchen. When she returns, she acknowledges Joel as he laces up his boots only long enough to place a plate in front of him and say, “Made you a sandwich for lunch.” And then she turns back to Tommy. “She’s not crazy. You just have to be gentle. Approach with caution, isn’t that the saying?”

Joel thinks of you briefly at Ellie’s words. Approach with caution. It’s fitting, considering Joel tends to lose all morality within touching distance of you. But he’s not supposed to be thinking of you at all, and so he shoves the thought from his head as quickly as it appears. 

But then he thinks he’s been outed, as if his brother could read his mind. “Speaking of crazy,” Tommy says. “Mike’s back from his run so he’ll be on watch tonight. You’ll be free of her from now on.”

He’s not sure why, but it bothers him a little that you’re being referred to as crazy. Made even worse when he realizes his brother is currently comparing you to the broodmare out in the stables. He wants to say something but doesn’t know the words to speak without making himself look suspicious.

Thankfully, Ellie does it for him. “You know, Tommy, I’m starting to think you’re just a pussy.”

Joel knows he should probably chastise her. Especially in front of Maria—who has always been a little standoffish about Ellie and her lack of discretion. But he doesn’t. Joel laughs to himself instead, comforted when his brother breaks out into chuckles of his own. 

“Maybe so,” Tommy says. He stands from the table, and Maria follows him. But when she nudges Tommy with an elbow, he pauses and proceeds to ask, “You got plans tonight? Before your watch?” 

Joel shrugs and takes a bite of his sandwich. “Not really.”

“So you’ll come have a drink with me then? At the Bison?”

Joel hesitates. He’s not sure why—quality time with his brother sounds like a fine time to him. But there’s something in the tone of his voice that puts Joel on edge. “Why?”

Maria answers for him. “To catch up,” she says. “Been a minute since it was just the two of you. You deserve that, I think.” And then she turns to Tommy and raises her brows, a suspicious smile on her face. “You know what? I’ll take your watch for you. Mike and I have some stuff to discuss anyway. You two can have a guys' night.”

He can sense the bullshit from a mile away. All but solidified with the grin Ellie hides behind her hand.

But Joel isn’t in the mood to argue. It’s obvious they’re doing it for a reason, but whatever it is can’t be that bad. Otherwise, Tommy would’ve told him already. “Alright, then.”

“Come help me move this firewood and I’ll buy the first round,” Tommy offers.

Joel agrees, and after making sure Ellie would be occupied and safe within the walls for the day, they set out towards the edge of the perimeter. 

Tommy has the back of his truck bed overflowing with split wood. And truthfully, Joel is happy to see it. Because manual labor is a welcome distraction. Tommy’s incessant talking will occupy his mind and moving the wood from the truck to the stockpile will occupy his hands—both of which have tended to stray towards you as of late.

The only problem is that twenty minutes in, after updating Joel on how domestic his life has become since marrying Maria, Tommy looks over at his brother and asks, “Honestly, I never thought you’d be into the young ones.”

Joel’s chest tightens at the insinuation. He decides to play dumb, even knowing his brother likely sees right through him. “What do you mean?”

He throws an armful of wood onto the pile and puts his hands on his hips. Tommy’s got a light sheen of sweat on his face and a smug expression beneath it. “You had a conversation with her? Seriously, Joel? You think I’m that stupid?”

“Don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth,” he shoots back. “And you should be careful—throwin’ accusations around like that.”

Tommy narrows his eyes. “Is it an accusation?” 

For a split second, Joel thinks about lying. But he’s never lied to his brother in all his life. Evaded direct questions and neglected the truth a little, sure. But he’s never lied, not to Tommy—and he doesn’t want to start now. So, he stays silent. 

It’s answer enough. “Jesus, Joel,” he huffs. “She’s just a kid.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He forces his eyes away from Tommy, unable to face him. He gathers another armful of wood instead.

“No, no. I think you do know. Which makes this whole thing that much worse.” 

Joel has half a mind to snap back at him. His brother is far from perfect, despite judging Joel like he’s got no mistakes made under his belt. But what he’s done is wrong. And isn’t this deserved, after all? Tommy’s allowed to be mad, to be disappointed.

So, Joel lets him cut deep. 

“She don’t know any better,” he says. “Just an angry little girl, lost and lookin’ for someone to take care of her. And it can’t be you, Joel. Not like this. If you wanna…” Tommy moves his hands, swiping one out in front of him. “If you wanna keep her safe, protect her, that’s…ya know, that’s one thing. But usin’ her?”

Joel stops him, spine straightening as he tosses wood onto the pile. “It ain’t like that.”

“It’s cruel, s’what it is,” Tommy tells him. And Joel makes no argument. “I mean, seriously, what d’you expect is gonna happen? You two will, what? Fall in love, live happily ever after? You’re thirty two years older than her. Best case scenario, you live to be, what? Seventy? Seventy five? And she’ll still be around, left with nothin’ for the second half of her life. That what you want? She’s lost enough.”

He hears him. All of it. But Joel wants to know exactly what his brother means with those last three words. She’s lost enough. But now isn’t the time to ask, and Tommy isn’t the one he wants answers from. Joel lets out a long breath and shakes his head. “I told you, it ain’t like that. You think I’d let it go that far?”

Tommy scoffs. “You’ve already let it get this far. I don’t even know what all has happened and frankly, Joel, I’ve got no interest in findin’ out. I’m just sayin’ that whatever the hell’s goin’ on between you two, you’ve gotta put an end to it.”

Joel picks up more wood from the back of the truck. “I know,” he says, piling it on.

“I’m serious.”

“Goddammit, Tommy, I said I know,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “You gonna let me do all the fuckin’ work today or what?”

Tommy, thankfully, lets the subject go. But that painful ache in Joel’s chest? That stays and gets comfortable, makes a home where it doesn’t belong. They move the split wood in silence, though his mind is anything but.

There wasn’t a word untrue in his brother’s little spiel and Joel knows it. He doesn’t know what he wants from you, what business he has with you at all. It’s wrong to even think of you the way he does, to look at you the way he does…and acting on his impulses has been, perhaps, the worst thing Joel has ever done. Worse than killing. Worse than torturing. Worse than any lie he’s ever told.

Because he doesn’t regret it. Not even a little.

No. If Joel Miller could go back to the first day he met you, he’d still stare at that black lace beneath your wet shirt. He’d still admire the snow clinging to the ends of your hair. He’d still drink you in and eat you up and he’d still find an excuse to touch you, no matter what he tells himself.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t grow, that he can’t change. It doesn’t mean that he can’t be a better man, a man worthy of keeping you safe.

And he will, Joel vows silently. He will keep you safe, no matter what he’s done to you in the past. Someone has to look out for you, to keep you from falling off that edge of decency you like to toe so much.

When they’re tossing the last few logs onto the pile, Tommy wipes his brow with the back of his hand and says, “For what it’s worth, I think you deserve to find somebody.”

Joel shrugs. “I’ve got you and Ellie and this place. Don’t need much else, Tommy.”

“I know,” he says. And then again, “I know. But, uh…you know what I mean. Like a woman. Not a girl, but a real woman. Any of these other broads catch your eye?”

There’s something a little like hope in his eyes, and Joel knows his brother too well to believe this conversation is anything but a setup. “Why’re we talkin’ about this?”

Tommy squeezes the back of his neck. “That, uh…you know that drink we’d planned on havin’? It was…it was a lie. Kinda. You know Kelly? Works over at the grocer on Fourth Street. She’s real close with Maria.”

“No,” Joel immediately says, seeing right where this is headed. “No, I’m not doin’ that.”

“C’mon, man. What could it hurt? She’s got it real bad for you, ya know. The whole rugged caveman man thing seems to do it for her,” he jokes. Tommy’s laughing, but the joy bleeds from his face when he sees the threat in Joel’s eyes.

“I said no.”

When Joel turns to walk away, deciding to skip any quality time with his brother altogether for the sake of his sanity, Tommy grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. “Joel, look. Just…give it a shot. Kelly’s a real nice girl. Real pretty, too. Real young.”

Joel narrows his eyes. Thinks about clocking his brother in the goddamn nose.

Tommy laughs again and shakes his head. “Alright, I’m sorry. That was a little uncalled for,” he admits. He raises his hands in surrender. “All I’m sayin’ is it could be a good thing to put yourself out there a little. Get her out of your system.”

Joel doesn’t agree. There’s no erasing you, no scrubbing his hands clean. He’d made sure of it because he never wants to forget you. Never wants to wake up beside a lovely, soft spoken, age appropriate woman like Kelly one day and realize the taste of you has faded from his mouth, that the feel of your fingertips pressing into his flesh is nothing but a whisper of a memory. 

He’d consumed the forbidden fruit not once but twice, all to ensure he’d always remember the taste of ambrosia.

So, no. Having a drink with Kelly would not get you out of his system.

“Tell you what,” Tommy says. “You go have a drink or two, see where it leads. And if you decide she ain’t worth the effort, come on over and we’ll crack open that bottle of Johnnie Walker that I found from the nineties.”

The scotch sounds like a much better idea than facing the woman currently waiting for him, but the longer Joel thinks about it, the more his brother’s words slot together in his brain. Maybe Tommy’s right. About trying, at least. 

You’re too well embedded within him for Joel to ever forget you. But maybe it would help to curb his…urges if he was distracted by someone else. If he wasn’t always so high strung, if he could lose himself within a body that isn’t yours. 

Could he protect you better that way? Protect you from him a little easier? Maybe…maybe it would help. Maybe he could somehow keep you safe without it also being cruel, as Tommy had put it.

And, for you…it was worth a shot. For you, he would try.

“You want a ride back to town?”

Joel shakes his head. Tells his brother he needs the walk back. It’s only a couple blocks to the bar and Joel needs the quiet. Needs the time to think, to convince himself that this might actually work. 

And it could…right? Kelly isn’t bad looking. She’s got pretty blonde hair and green eyes, and her voice sounds a little like a character from a movie Joel watched once. Some southern belle who made pies and sat them on the window sill to cool. 

Even though Joel doesn’t want to convince himself it matters, Kelly is also in her late thirties. Nearly twice your age. Young…but not twenty. 

Joel makes his decision as he steps onto Main Street.

The Tipsy Bison is one of the most popular attractions in the commune. It’s a warm little place. The lights are low, and there’s always some blues rock song playing in the background. The walls are covered in framed photos, taxidermied mounts, old-school plaques. Little momentos all courtesy of Jackson’s population. Joel’s been here a couple of times with Tommy, and he can’t deny the nostalgia it brings up in him. 

It feels like before. Before the outbreak, before the end of the world.

He thinks of you then, wonders how different you’d be if the two of you had met in that world instead of this one.

And as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Joel begins to wonder if he’s fucking cursed. 

Because there, at the end of the round bar, you sit in one of the oak stools. You’ve got one leg folded beneath you, leaning against the bartop with a ballpoint ben clutched between your fingers. You’re writing in that journal you tried so hard to casually hide from him the other day, the one Joel has an insatiable desire to read.

You look beautiful when you think no one’s looking. Lively and youthful, soft and sweet. You’re wearing a pretty black dress with a sparse, white floral pattern printed on it. A jean jacket rests over your shoulders, and it’s a size too big but Joel thinks it fits you just right. Your black socks are bunched down around your ankles, and beneath the barstool there’s a pair of leather boots that sit unoccupied. Your hair falls loosely down your back, and Joel wants to run his hands through it. He knows it’s soft, knows it feels a lot like satin.

But maybe he needs a reminder.

“Joel! I’m so glad you could make it!”

It’s only then he notices Kelly in her yellow blouse. She’s sitting just two seats down from you, sunshiney demeanor grabbing the attention of the rest of the patrons as she calls out for him.

Your whole body goes rigid at the sound of his name. And Joel’s blood ignites in his veins as you turn your head slowly and glance at him over your shoulder.

It’s a simple look, but it feels far from innocent.

Kelly approaches him, and Joel forces himself to look at her instead of you. Forces a smile onto his face, too, despite the obvious sway of her hips. He tries not to think about how her subtle charm isn’t nearly as enticing as your foul mouth. “Saved you a seat,” she tells him.

He lets her take his hand and pull him to the bar. Kelly smells like patchouli and Joel doesn’t hate it. It’s just…not quite right. Too earthy, too warm. He can’t explain it.

The desire to leave already rises in him. This is too much, too uncomfortable. Even though you’re not looking at him anymore, turned back to that leatherbound journal and scribbling intently, Joel cannot take his attention off of you.

Kelly notices. She sits between the two of you, and her head pivots from him to you, and then back to him. Her voice is lower as she suggests, “I know this isn’t the most secluded of places. Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?”

Joel opens his mouth to answer, but you beat him to it.

“Try the northwestern outpost,” you say without picking your head up. It’s resting casually in your left hand as if you hadn’t just blatantly been listening in on a question very clearly not meant for your ears.

“The outpost?” Kelly laughs, a crease forming between her brows in confusion. “Why would we go there?”

“Ignore her,” Joel says.

It’s then that you finally look up from your journal. Your mouth quirks up at the corners as you look only at Kelly. “You’ll like it there,” you tell her. “Trust me. It’s secluded and private, just like you want. I’m sure you two could get up to all kinds of nefarious activities.”

Kelly flushes, cheeks turning crimson at your insinuation. “O-oh…I didn’t mean…”

“What?” You snicker. “Isn’t that what this is?”

“Stop,” Joel orders. And he means it. Hopes you’ll see the warning on his face and take it seriously. But you don’t even look at him, and Joel wonders if this is how Maria feels. Invisible.

He couldn’t survive it for weeks like Maria has. Thirty seconds of it has his skin crawling.

“No, it’s not,” Kelly says. Her face is still pink, but her shoulders are pulled back all the same. She’s confident as she tells you, “It’s a date.”

Your eyes widen at that, brows rising. Joel can tell you’re holding back a laugh, can sense the impending doom that’s bound to follow whatever the fuck comes out of your mouth. And his assumption is proved correct as you say, “Hm. That’s…real interesting. Didn’t peg him for a man who’d be into someone like you.”

“That’s enough,” Joel says through gritted teeth. He’s been able to see right through you from the very beginning, could see that dog-like fight buried beneath your innocent looking exterior. Joel knows you’re a brat, but he’s beginning to think maybe you’re just simply fuckin’ vicious.

Poor Kelly, for what it’s worth, retains her composure. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your voice is sickly sweet, sarcasm almost undetectable in your answer. “You’re just so…so nice , Kelly! And so pretty, you know? Like, uhm…hm. How to put it…” You tap your pen against your journal as if you’re real deep in thought. Joel can hear the words before they leave your mouth. “You’re just so lovely and soft spoken. And Joel’s…well, Joel’s Joel.”

Kelly giggles and actually thanks you, completely unaware of the insult in your sugary words. And then she shrugs and says, “You know, sometimes opposites attract. Right, Joel?”

It feels like a kick to the chest when you finally, finally turn your eyes on him. It knocks the air from his lungs, the flicker of spite in your expression more threatening than that of any rabid dog he’s ever encountered. You smirk and repeat Kelly’s words. “Right, Joel?”

His heart is beating so fast he thinks it might explode. Unfortunately, however, it doesn’t, and Joel is left with the two of you staring right at him, expecting an answer. He swallows hard and says, “...Right.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” You stand to your feet, gathering your journal and pen in one hand and your boots in the other.

Joel watches you sit on the other side of the bar, further out of earshot this time. The bar is too small for you to sit anywhere and not hear them, but the effort is there. And Kelly, it seems, is satisfied with it.

“Sorry about that,” she says to Joel, voice lowering to a whisper. “Have you met her before? She’s kind of a recluse. Sticks to herself. Bit of a troublemaker, really.”

He hardly hears her, ears finetuned to pick up the cadence of your voice as you speak to Tara who’s tending the bar. You laugh at some joke she makes, and order ‘that one drink that doesn’t taste bad but has all those different alcohols in it. What’d you call it last time? A long island?’

“Anyway,” Kelly says. “Can I admit something to you?”

Joel, genuinely, could not give a fuck less about whatever she’s going to say. But he forces himself to pay attention to the woman in front of him and not the girl at the other end of the bar. “Sure.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” she says.

Me neither, Joel doesn’t.

“She has a point, you know. I feel like we don’t have much in common. But…I like you, Joel,” Kelly confesses. She sets her hand on his arm, fingers squeezing lightly. 

And it’s wrong. It’s all fucking wrong—too soft, too tender. Not enough claws. Not enough you.

But that’s not fair, is it? Joel isn’t hear to compare the two of you. He’s here to try. For you. For your safety.

He tries to give her a warm smile, knows it comes across as more of a grimace. “Yeah,” he sighs.

“So, how do you like Jackson so far?”

The small talk is slowly killing him. “It’s great,” he says honestly. “I think it’ll be good for Ellie.”

She nods. “Of course. I’ve heard a little about what you two went through to get here. It must’ve been hard, a young girl like her.”

“Ellie’s strong,” Joel says.

“Oh, I’m not disagreeing,” Kelly defends. “I just mean girls that age can be a little unruly. Best to have a routine, you know? So they don’t end up like that.”

Joel almost pressures her then, urges her to say exactly what she’s thinking. He can read between the lines, knows she’s referring to you and your bad behavior. Joel wishes he could come to your defense. But he can’t, so he just says quietly, “Yeah.” 

He’s not adding much in the way of discussion. He knows he should be asking about Kelly, about her family or her pastimes or anything. But he doesn’t care, and he doesn’t have it in him to pretend he does. He’s thankful when Tara approaches and asks if they want to order anything.

Kelly orders a Coke, and Joel orders a double whiskey neat.

Tara sets them down in less than a minute, and Joel’s already tossing his back before the glass can touch the bartop.

She eyes him suspiciously for a moment and then carefully asks, “Do you…drink a lot, Joel?”

“No.”

You burst into a fit of rambunctious laughter, trying to play it off like a cough at first. But your amusement is loud and obnoxious and you’ve got one hand over your mouth, and you quickly give up pretending to be polite. When you notice they’ve both turned to stare at you, Kelly with her brows knitted together in bewilderment and Joel with that signature scowl on his face, you wave your hand in dismissal. “I’m sorry,” you choke out through your giggles. “I just remembered something funny. Sorry, I’ll be quiet.”

Joel turns back to his date, but sees you stand out of the corner of his eye. Watches you disappear down the hall to the back of the bar.

“Oh, okay. Well that’s…that’s good,” Kelly says. “That you don’t drink. I don’t either.”

He nods once. Clears his throat. Prays silently for this awkward atmosphere to dissipate. 

“Maria told me….uhm, she told me you had a daughter.”

Nope.

Joel’s barstool scrapes against the floor noisily as he rises to his feet. “Been a while since I’ve had something so strong,” he says, nodding to his empty glass. “Whiskey went right through me. I’ll be back.”

He finds you right where he expects. You’re in the dimly lit restroom at the back of the bar, standing with your back against the counter, hands braced behind you. Joel catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror above the sink and thinks he looks a little untamed, a little feral. You’ve got a playful smirk on your face as if this whole situation is just so funny, and it rubs his nerves raw. “You need to leave,” he says, standing as far away from you as possible.

You don't comment on his words. Don't even acknowledge that he’s said them. “Kelly, Joel? Really?”

No, not really. It’ll never be Kelly. Not the one he ends up with, not the one he distracts himself with. Joel knew as much the moment he set foot in this bar. But he doesn’t correct you—he’s too busy trying to get himself under control. Too busy trying to stop staring at your bare thighs, at the space where they disappear beneath the seam of your dress. He’s too busy praying to a God he stopped believing in long ago, begging for strength.

Because he’s all out of options. Nothing he’s tried has worked, and Joel knows now that it’ll take some divine force to keep him from you.

“I didn’t take you for the kinda man to move on so fast,” you continue. “I wonder if Kelly knows where you spent your night.”

“Stop that,” he warns. “That ain’t fair.”

“Fair? And you somehow think you being here, flaunting her like that in front of me is?”

“I’m not flauntin’ anybody.”

This has got you worked up, Joel can tell. So much so that he can see the pulse throbbing in your neck from here. “You’re an asshole, dude. Seriously.”

Joel stiffens at the curse word in your mouth. But he doesn’t do or say anything about it. It’s not his place. Not anymore. He made sure of it. “We can’t do this. It ain’t right.”

“You can’t,” you correct. “Don’t put this on me, Joel. You do what you have to do—but don’t make it my fault.” 

“I’m not blamin’ you,” he insists. Anger rises in him, hot and uncontrollable. It’s not your fault and it never has been. Joel hates that he’s somehow put the idea in your head and he aches to set it right. You’re not the problem. He is. Joel and his inability to keep his hands off you. 

“Yes, you are.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, the fuck it is.”

“No, I’m—” Joel stops, sighs heavily, presses his fingertips into his throbbing temple. “Will you stop and hear me out for one second?”

“Mm…let me think.” You’re grinning like this is some kind of joke. It only serves to annoy him more. You tap your index finger against your chin in a forgery of contemplation and then say, “Probably not.”

And Joel loses it. He crosses the small room in just two steps, grabs your face in his hand and tilts your chin upwards, forcing your attention to remain only on him. “I’m not askin',” he says darkly. It’s a wretched thing on his part that he enjoys the flash of unease in your eyes, but Joel’s too angry to think too deeply about it. “Now, you’re gonna shut that pretty mouth of yours and listen. You understand?”

You look up at him through your lashes and Joel’s weak in the knees. While your eyes are shining and bright and painfully innocent, your response is anything but. “If you want me to shut my mouth, then maybe you should put something in it.”

Joel swallows as you reach below his belt. He catches your wrist in his hand seconds before you find evidence of just how much you affect him. A hundred images flash through his mind— fantasies of what he wants to do to you, how badly he wants to defile you. He wants to push you to your knees and force himself down your throat. Wants to wake up to your mouth around him. Wants to feel your tongue on the underside of his cock, familiarizing itself with the veins there. He wants to peer down at you beneath the dinner table, that sweet mouth of yours drooling for the sustenance only he can provide. Wants to finish at the back of your throat with the taste of you on his lips. “Enough,” he snarls, equal parts to himself and to you.

“What’s wrong, Joel? You don’t like it when I’m mean to you?” Your voice is sugary sweet, that same subtly sarcastic tone you took with Kelly. But then it falls away, all radiance bleeding from your words. “Join the fucking club.”

It’s then he sees it—the slight tremble in your bottom lip, the way you fight against your watery eyes, the slump in your shoulders. You’re not being bratty just to make him mad. You’re doing it because you’re hurting. Seeing him here with another woman has hurt you, and Joel feels his heart crack behind his ribcage at the realization.

He knows he doesn’t have to explain himself, knows he probably shouldn’t. Knows it would be best to just let you hurt for a little while until you decide to hate him. Because if you hate him Joel won’t have such a hard time resisting you. He wouldn’t be begging the divine forces for strength to hold himself back if you were pushing him away. 

But he can’t let you be hurt if he has the power to fix it, either. He should. But he can’t.

His grip on your jaw softens. “I didn’t know,” he says. Joel wills his fingers to stay still but they, like you, don’t listen to his wisely spoken advice—his thumb strokes your cheekbone, his pinky presses against your throat to feel the flutter of your pulse. “They set it up…Maria and Tommy. I didn’t know.”

Your stare is hard, but he sees the long breath you release and knows that his confession has done its job. “And that’s somehow supposed to make this better?”

“No, I…” He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know the words to make this right. “I’m just sorry s’all.”

Your eyes narrow just slightly, searching for something on his face. A lie, maybe—but he would never lie. Not to you. He feels the coil of anxiety that’s weaved itself around his neck loosen as you place your hand over his and lean into his touch. “Joel, why did you follow me here?”

He doesn’t know.

Or at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself. 

But as he stands here now, holding you close, slipping his free hand around your waist and resting it against the curve in the small of your back, Joel can admit the truth. “I can’t stay away from you, baby.” 

You stare up at him so beautifully—a perfect picture of innocence, the most mouth-watering fruit he’s ever seen. You press a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb, bringing his hand down lower, just beneath your jaw. “No one’s making you go anywhere,” you say. “You can stay right here.” 

Joel stares at you, entranced, forgetting that too much of a good thing can turn to poison, as you press your lips to each of his fingers—index, middle, ring, pinky, and then repeat the action in reverse. He feels a little like he’s being worshiped. It makes heat bloom in his chest, warming him from the inside out.

You’re right. Joel hates it when you’re mean. To him, anyway. But you make up for it when you’re being like this; sweet and kind and angelic, his perfect little girl. Ambrosia-flavored venom, Joel thinks. “I can’t,” he says. 

And then your soft tongue darts out between your lips, licking up his middle finger, and Joel’s breathing turns heavy. You watch him tremble as you pull his hand closer, leaning forward to take his finger into your mouth.

He shudders at the softness of you, at being inside of you. You’re so pretty like this, Joel thinks. With his finger in your mouth, the low lights reflecting in your hair, eyes wide and desperate. “Fuck,” he breathes, drawing out the word. 

You pull your head back, mouth hanging open. “Language,” you scold. And Joel laughs lightly, and you mirror the sound, and then he’s lifting you onto the counter, and this time you take both his middle and index finger into your mouth and Joel is moaning.

It feels so good. It’s so fucking good that he could die . Pretty girl sucking on his fingers because it’s the only part of him he’s allowing you to have in this moment. But he knows how badly you want more because Joel does, too. Wants to feed you his cock, wants to fuck you right here in this bathroom with your panties pulled to the side and his date waiting out there for him.

But no. No. You deserve better than this. Better than a sleazy bar bathroom, better than to be kissed only in secret. Better than him. “We can’t, baby,” he whispers. 

You only hollow out your cheeks in response, sucking his fingers in deeper. Joel lets you because he can’t bring himself to stop it. 

“I’m sorry, I…it ain’t right. It ain’t…you’re too young, sweetheart. You know what…goddamn, you know what people will say? About the both of—both of us?” Joel moves his free hand from your spine, rests it on the inside of your thigh instead. “They’ll think I’m some dirty old man, touching’ you like this…they’ll say I’m a pervert, that I’ve got no business bein’ near you. And they won’t be wrong, baby, don’t you get that?”

You squeeze your thighs together and tilt your hips forward, whimpering sweetly around his thick fingers in your mouth. Your eyes are pleading as you grab his wrist and slip his hand beneath your dress.

Joel can’t help himself. He presses hard against your clit, grinning at the little whine you let out in response. “Y’like that, hm?” You’re nodding and Joel’s mouth is watering and he knows he shouldn’t but, fuck, he has to. “You know what they’ll say about you?”

When he moves your panties to the side his fingers glide through your slit easily. You’re so wet, so fucking wet and he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that it’s all for him. Your head falls back, thudding softly against the glass mirror. Your chest heaves and your breath is hot against his drool-covered palm. 

“They’ll call you a slut, baby,” he whispers tenderly. “They’ll say you spread your legs for any man who gives you attention, and that ain’t what you want, is it?” Joel rubs circles around your clit, feeling it throb beneath his middle finger. His hand moves fast, desperate to get you there, to take that ache away. “We can’t have that, sweetheart. You know why?”

You shake your head, tongue sliding between his fingers. Joel pushes them in deeper.

“Because if anyone but me ever called you a slut an’ I heard about it?” He presses your clit harder, grinning when you start panting. “I’d have to kill ‘em, baby.”

A whimper leaves you at that. Joel chuckles darkly as you lift your legs, trying to find purchase on the countertop to no avail.

He wonders if you think he’s joking. Joel knows he’s not.

“C’mon. You got it. Legs up,” he says, nudging your knee with his shoulder. When the heel of your boot catches the edge of the counter, he helps you with the other one and praises, “There you go. Spread ‘em wide, baby.” 

Joel’s cock throbs in his jeans, painfully hard, pushing against his zipper. He ignores it because the second he gives it any thought he’ll be pulling it out and indulging himself in you as if last night meant nothing. And it can’t mean nothing. 

His name is muffled in your mouth as you whine, but Joel knows what you’re trying to say. He knows how close you are, can feel it in the needy movement of your hips.

“S’okay, I know,” he whispers. He allows himself to appreciate the way you look with his fingers in your mouth for one more second before hooking them around your jaw and pulling your face toward his. Your eyes flutter open, but there’s nothing but blind trust in them. It makes him feel bruised, tender, devoted. 

And then he takes his fingers out of your mouth, reaches down, and slides them into your pussy instead.

Joel kisses you hard, echoing the sound of your moans. You taste a little like alcohol and a whole lot like addiction, and he’s never been so thrilled to have a fix. He drinks you in, tongue sliding against yours, licking into you like it’ll be the last time. Joel knows it won’t be, and he wonders why that thought is so goddamn comforting. 

Your legs begin to shake. One of them slips off the countertop. “Joel,” you whimper into his mouth. “Joel, I’m gonna come, I’m—”

“Go’head, baby, c’mon. Give it to me.” His fingers are covered with your drool and slick, pooling in his palm as he strokes that spot inside you that makes you writhe. He’s still circling your clit with his other hand and keeps up a steady pace. When your fingers tangle in the dark curls at the nape of his neck and pull, Joel just kisses you harder despite the ache it brings.

“Ohh, God, God, Joel, please don’t stop, don’t stop—!”

He feels your walls clench around his fingers and Joel lets out a moan of his own, his cock convulsing in his jeans. “Yeah…there you go. Good girl, baby. You listen so fuckin’ good when you’re all full’a me, don’t you?” He fucks you through it, relief reverberating through his ribcage with the sounds you make. “Sweet little thing, just need ta’ be told what to do, ain’t that right? Hm?”

You moan his name one final time, and before your breathing evens out you’re pulling his flannel out of his jeans and tugging at his belt buckle. “Joel, please, please, please.”

He thinks you beg so prettily. He thinks he doesn’t deserve it. Not your attention, not your desperation, not your trust or admiration. Yet he doesn’t stop you, even knowing he should. 

Never in his life has he wanted someone so badly. And never in his life has he wanted to protect someone so much. It’s an impossible task. One he’ll undeniably fail over and over and over again. He thinks about his conversation with Tommy and his gut wrenches.

But then you look up at him and all doubt ebbs away, fading into nothingness. Joel knows this feeling. Had nearly forgotten it, in truth. But it hits him like a freight train now, like a bullet to the head. You smile at him and Joel feels heat stain his cheeks and it’s here, here, in this sleazy bar bathroom that he remembers what it feels like to be cherished.

And it’s been so long, so very long, that Joel’s forgotten until this very moment just how hungry for it he’s been.

What’s a starved man to do but devour?

You carefully snake your hand beneath his jeans. Your fingers are soft, delicate, as they wrap around his hard length and squeeze. There isn’t a second that you look away from him, and he wonders if you can read his mind, if you can see the shift in him, if you can hear all his rapturous thoughts of admiration.

The leather of his belt bites deliciously into his hips with the extra pressure. Your hand begins to move, stroking him softly. Joel’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head, but he resists because he doesn’t want to forget this moment. Doesn’t want to look away from you. He reaches up and takes your face in his hands. “You’re so pretty, baby,” he says, kissing you softly. “Keep goin’, just like that.”

Just a few quick touches and he’s melting; putty in your hands, unable to catch his breath. “Like this?” You squeeze him harder, stroke him faster, and Joel groans. “Am I doing good?”

He doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed as he explodes so quickly at the sweet sound of your voice. “Fuck, sweetheart— mm, so good. Such a good little girl, shit.” 

A pretty smile graces your face as he coats your hand in stickiness, satisfied with your work. You draw out every last drop until he’s trembling, and even then you make no effort to slow your movements.

Joel grabs your wrist to still you, every inch of him overly sensitive. And when you wiggle your hand out of his jeans you giggle as you lick up the mess he made. He can’t take his eyes off of your pretty pink tongue as it slides between your fingers, the filthiest thing he’s ever seen. 

When you’re finished, you push yourself off the counter and straighten your dress. “I get it,” you say quietly. “Why you don’t want to be with me. I mean…I don’t really, because I don’t give a fuck what any of these people have to say about me.”

It nearly gives him whiplash. Joel doesn’t understand how you can be licking his come off your fingers one second and go right back to being angry with him the next. But that irritation has slipped back into your voice with a vengeance, leaving Joel at a loss.

“So, I guess I get it, but I don’t understand,” you continue. “I did tell you this would happen, though, didn’t I? Gave you the idea, most likely. So…you know. Go ahead. Go have your date with Kelly. Go find an age appropriate woman, and I’ll find an age appropriate man, and we’ll just—”

“No.” His voice is dark, leaving no room for argument. The thought of you with someone else brings up a fiery rage in him, burning his insides, leaving nothing behind but bloodthirst. “Don’t be like that.” Please. He doesn’t want to lose this place. He doesn’t want to lose you.

“No?” You shake your head. “I’m not going to wait around for you to make up your mind about me, Joel.”

You shoulder past him and walk out of the door without another word.

Joel feels the loss like a knife.

[part two] [part four]

[suckerfordylansstuff]

Not a date - Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Summary: Dustin is certain you're dating someone. You, on the other hand, are not so sure.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: As you can see we're changing the style with this new post. You could consider this kind of a small prequel for "A date like no other", but mostly, I just wanted to write more of Dustin and Y/n's relationship (more will follow, inspiration has hit me). Plus, it was fun playing detective. Hope you enjoy! 💕

!This piece goes along my Steve Harrington series "New Journey", but can also be read as a standalone!

Timeline: After the winter dance, but before their first date.

“I have gathered you here today on an important issue.” Dustin was pacing around Mike's basement while all the rest of his friends followed him with their eyes “It is crucial that we take upon this matter with focus and determination. Not to mention stealthiness since a bit of spy work is going to occur.”

“Dustin, why are we here?” his dramatics had Max over the whole thing very quickly.

“It has come to my attention that my sister, my own blood, has been seeing someone behind my back and simultaneously lying to me about it.”

“And?” Lucas asked, not understanding his friend’s anger.

“What do you mean and? This is it!”

“You’re mad your sister has finally found someone?” Will was trying to understand Dustin’s motives.

“I’m mad she hasn’t told me about it. I mean, why would she do that? I certainly tell her everything.” his pacing hasn’t stopped from the moment he entered the basement.

“Maybe because she wants to focus on the new relationship and not on her little brother’s obnoxious opinions?” Max told him with a smile, making Dustin stop in his tracks.

“You’re new, you don’t get a say.” he pointed in her direction and continued his pattern on the floor.

“Dustin, what do you want us to do?” Mike sighed when he saw Dustin place large papers on top of a chair, opposite to them, a pen in his hand as he settled beside them. It reminded him of their teacher, and not in a good way.

“I want you to come with me and spy on her.” he removed his first blank paper, revealing a calendar with colorful dots on certain days “It all started a month ago. I realized she began going out a lot more than usual. I mean I love my sister, but let’s be honest, she doesn’t have many friends.” he pulled out another paper, this time a pie chart with all the colors they had previously seen on the calendar “So, I began tracking her behavior. When she would go out, when she would return, and try to figure out with whom. So far, I’ve noted 14 outings in the span of 29 days… She went out with Jonathan twice, once with Nancy, once with you, Max, and you, Eleven, for girl’s night. Three times with all of us and another three with me. That all makes 10. The other 4 are a mystery to me.” with each sentence, each ‘clue’, he was pointing the pen at every chart so the rest wouldn’t get lost

“When she hangs out with friends, I have noticed Y/n coming back at a decent hour, say around 10:30, at least 11:00. However, when she’s ‘on her own’ those hours defer.” the new paper showed the said hours with a big question mark at the end “I have caught her sneaking into the house well after 1:00 am! Clearly, she’s not out there on her own. But I haven’t been able to figure out with whom. I checked with both Nancy and Jonathan telling me that they had not seen her those specific days. She’s clearly with someone doing something, but when I ask her about what she did and where she went she outright lies to me, saying she was with Jonathan and/or Nancy.” he let the last paper fall flat on the chair, the pen rhythmically hitting his other palm “It is our mission to figure out who she is meeting on these days, so I can evaluate if I need to step in and help her.”

The kids all looked at one another, trying to see if they wanted in on this. His thinking could be correct, but the thought of him being wrong and giving them the chance to mess with him is what sealed the deal.

“Alright, we’re in.” Mike announced for all of them. Dustin’s face immediately lit up.

“But how do we know when their next meet-up is?” Lucas asked him.

“Already ahead of you my friend.” he began organizing the papers he had used, stacking them into his bag before putting it on “I overheard Y/n talk with my mother, saying she’s going out. Again, wouldn’t outright tell me with whom. So that’s why I came here, to find out if Nancy had any plans. As it turns out she did. But not with my sister, with Jonathan. Right?” his eyes fell on Will.

“Yeah, they are hanging out at ours.” Will confirmed Dustin’s words.

“Okay, so that excludes them from this ‘secret meet up’.” Max thought out loud.

“Precisely.” they were now getting out of the house from the basement’s door, making their way to their bikes.

“So… Where is she?” Eleven asked, her small voice was now loud enough for all to hear, turning their heads at once to look at Dustin.

Dustin wasn’t sure at the beginning where his sister would be. She had mentioned she would leave around 8:30. Now, he had left earlier to check on her small lie at the Wheeler’s, so their first stop was at his house to check if her car was still there. It was, which meant either of two things. She either walked to their meeting place (which was unlikely of her after everything that had happened to them, walking somewhere alone was a no-no for his sister). Or the person she was meeting picked her up. It left a lot of options open so he decided to head inside with the rest and look for more clues.

His mom greeted them, chatting a bit with the kids while Dustin looked around for any indication as to where she went. He noticed that her sneakers were missing, telling Dustin that they weren’t going somewhere fancy, so maybe their destination was the theater or maybe grabbing a bite somewhere.

“Hey, mom. I was thinking of eating the leftover pizza from last night after I come back. Y/n didn’t eat it, right?” he looked over at his mom, Tews on her lap as always.

“Oh, no, Dusty, she specifically said that she didn’t want to have anything since she’ll be going out to eat with her friends.”

Bingo.

Dustin excluded from the options list the diner where you used to work. Too many people knew you there and the secrecy wouldn’t last. So, they began roaming around the town trying to get a glimpse of you. They succeeded after a couple of tries. Lucas had caught a glimpse of your figure inside the burger place. You were sitting in a corner booth in the back of the store, your face bright, not only by the lights of the place but by your present company as well.

“Holy shit. Dustin was right.” Max climbed out of her bike, staring at the older sister of her new friend.

“Of course I was. Can you see who she is with?”

“No, his back is turned.” Lucas tried to wiggle around in an attempt to see who was with you.

We’re gonna have to get inside.” Mike noted and Dustin agreed.

“Not all of us, we’ll draw attention. Will, you’re coming with me.” the said boy wasted no time and followed his friend toward the entryway.

“Why him?” Mike called out, annoyed he wasn’t getting in on the action.

“Because he’ll be quiet, unlike you.” Dustin whisper-yelled.

They get inside and make their way to the end of the front counter. When they peaked at the back, they had a clearer shot at the two figures. Dustin could clearly see your big, bright smile, but the guy you were with was sitting opposite of you, meaning they could only see his back

“We still can’t see his face.”

“Wait… I know that hair.” Dustin’s eyes squinted as he focused on the person in question. The waiter had approached them, his lips moving, probably asking them if everything was okay. It was then when the mysterious guy turned his head, making him visible to him, a relieved sigh falling from his lips  “Oh, it’s just Steve.”

He and Will went outside without alerting you, joining the others once again.

“Okay, people, crisis averted. It was only Steve, just a friendly meet-up.” he announced to his friends before he grabbed his bike, ready to return home.

“Sure.” Max smirked his way, suddenly making a frown appear on Dustin’s face.

“Uh… Dustin? I don’t think this is very friend-like.” Mike was pointing to the restaurant. Dustin turned and met the horror. Steve had now switched his seat, joining you on your side. His arm was around your shoulders, your faces way too close for his liking. And then it happened. Steve kissed you.

Dustin was waiting for you to return back home. He was in the dark, his mother fast asleep, not realizing her own son was stewing hot. He was ready. Ready to tell you he knows your secret and ready to express his anger. He liked Steve, he didn’t like showing it, but he did. He was funny and honest with him, and a guy. He had a guy friend. Someone whom he could rely on when seeking advice. He knew he could come to you about everything, but sometimes he felt too embarrassed to say certain things. He was getting older, more ‘mature’ as his mother had said, and Steve had been through those things before, therefore could give him the advice he needed.

He liked Steve, but now he was afraid he was going to lose him… and you. You always wanted to be in a relationship and now that you were in one, you were going to spend all your time with each other, forgetting all about the party and mainly him. Or you would eventually break up and he would have to choose your side, his sister’s, and forcing him to say goodbye to his friend.

It all felt unacceptable to him, so he had to tell you about it.

Finally, he heard a car stop outside. After a couple of minutes, your keys were daggling as you opened the door. He watched you come inside, a lingering smile on your face as you took off your jacket and placed it on the hook beside the door. You were in the process of taking off your shoes when he decided to intervene.

“Hello, sister.”

He startled you, a small yelp coming from your lips as you squinted your eyes to see where your brother was hiding “Dustin? What are you doing in the dark? Do you know what time it is?”

“Do you?” he countered back, catching you by surprise.

“What?”

“How was your night?”

“Oh… It was really fun actually, thanks for asking. But this still doesn’t answer my question as to what you’re still doing up.” your arms were now folded in front of your chest, thinking you had the upper hand here.

“Oh, I just had a simple question really. Who were you with?”

It took you a second to form your question, confusion rising inside you “What?”

“I was over at Mike’s today and I stumbled upon Nancy.” Dustin stood up from the armchair and walked closer to you as he explained “I asked her if she was on her way to come get you, but she told me she wasn’t meeting with you. She was actually going to meet up with Jonathan for a date at his place.”

“Oh…” was all that came from your lips.

“I know who you met tonight. I followed you and found out you are secretly dating Steve.” his finger was accusingly pointing at your figure. He didn’t know what reaction he was really expecting from you but it certainly wasn’t what you said next.

“I’m not dating him, Dustin.”

“Wait, what?”

“We’re not dating.” you shrugged your shoulders and sat down on the couch.

“But he kissed you. I saw it!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, okay? It’s all very confusing.” your head your resting on top of your palms. You looked defeated, confused, sad, a whole different side of you than the one he had seen at the restaurant. He slowly approached you, sitting next to you. You looked up and saw him looking at you, a silent invitation to explain “It all started after we dropped you off at the ball. We happened to dance a little and it ended in a kiss. After that, we’ve been hanging out as much as we could and, yes, I admit, some kissing has gone down, but I don’t know what we are.”

Dustin noted that your voice was small but your feeling big “Do you like him?”

You looked up and locked eyes with your brother. You hadn’t been able to tell no one this, and you had no idea how much it was eating at you to get it out before this conversation “Very much.”

“Then I’m certain it will all work out.”

And just like that Dustin had forgotten all about his speech. He could still remember the way you smiled at him, thanking him with a big hug. It was the same smile when you picked up the phone, a couple of days later, Steve’s name falling from your lips. It was a soft one, your focus entirely on the voice coming from the phone, from his friend. When you finally hung up, a small shriek sounded all around the room. After just a moment he found out you were excited, beyond excited because he had asked you out on a date.

“Didn’t you go on one like yesterday?” he had asked.

“This is the first time he uses the word date, Dustin. The first time!”

He secretly smiled at your antics, even if in front of you he called it gross. When you returned home after that so-called ‘first date’, bliss was written all over your face. The next day, you all were meeting with the party for a campaign, the first time you would include Steve in your game. The first time he would see you two together officially for the first time. It was funny seeing him make all the wrong decisions and getting himself killed in the first thirty minutes. It was hilarious seeing you and him bicker about what you should do next. Steve making it his business to judge you all based on your actions. And it was certainly sweet when he would cheer with you after a successful roll. It didn’t seem all that different to him; your behavior.

It was after the campaign when Steve was talking his ear off on the way to their house about what movie you should see at the next movie night with the kids, that it truly hit him. Nothing would change. You would still be his sister and Steve would still be his friend. It couldn’t be that bad. Especially, if he saw his sister so happy every day.

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[idunnoficsorsumthing]

Dinner secrecy

Warnings: Smut therefore 18+ readers only. 

Summary: Harvey holds a dinner at his house.

You looked over to where Jessica, Louis and Harvey were talking in Jessica’s office. You mewled at the fact that they were in a meeting leaving out the younger associates out of their chit chat meetings. You were sitting in your cubicle that had the perfect view of  Jessica’s office. You quickly turn your gaze from the meeting to your computer when you see Harvey turn his chair to look back at you. You looked up again when you felt like his gaze was no longer on you. Harvey had been a little flirtatious with you from the start of your time at Pearson Hardman, it was only a matter of time before you fell for him. It didn’t take much, he was handsome, funny when he wanted to be and oh so good in bed. The two of you had been dating for a while now. It was strictly a secret, no one knew, no one was allowed to get suspicious. Something the both of you agreed on. You were Jessica’s associate, you were at her beck and call. No way she would take it well for you to be screwing one of the senior partners. You heard the voices of the partners talking as the glass door opened and the men walked out. You try to keep your eyes solely focused on your computer screen. You feel a man towering over your cubicle. “I am holding an unexpected dinner tonight for some people here at the firm.” Harvey said, you looked up. “Who?” you asked. He was leaning against the side of your cubicle. “Senior partners, their associates, and  very pretty paralegals.” he said, you would get angry at him for calling Rachel pretty if it wasn’t thar she and Mike were eye fucking each other every ten minutes. “I want you to be at my place by five” he said, you nod. “Early dinner". you huffed. “Dinner is at seven. I’m going to need an extra set of hands, sweetheart.” he said, walking off. 

You gave Jessica some weak excuse why you needed to leave earlier, and she told you to make sure you would be there at Harvey’s dinner, considering it was basically a late planned work function. You joked you would only show up if you could bill the hours and then you got a glare as you were walking out. You were unwrinkling your skirt as you made it up the last few steps till the elevator of Harvey’s building. His doorman is already familiar with you, letting you up. You contemplated bringing a bottle of wine. However, you know that whatever you would be able to afford wasn’t to Harvey’s liking anyway so you decided against that. You waited impatiently for the elevator to reach his floor. The ride up seems slower than normally. However, normally you were impatiently tapping your feet a little to get to him or you would be with Harvey himself as he had his lips against yours or peppering kisses along your neck. You finally reach his door and you open it with the spare key he gave you weeks ago. “Thank god, you are here.” He said he was wearing an apron and standing over a cutting board. You stood beside him looking over the recipe pages and seeing him cutting vegetables. “Why didn’t you hire a private chef?” you asked. He groaned. “Louis,” he huffed. You had only seen Harvey use his kitchen once when he was making soup for you after an especially wild night the two of you had and walking had seemed a bit of a struggle. “He bet me money that I could not do it without a private chef.” he said, you take the recipe cards he printed and look over the recipes. “ Smoked Salmon Crawfish and dill mousse? Pan fried duck breast with spiced orange and cranberry?” You asked, puzzling yourself over the instructions. “What? I thought you said you knew how to cook.” he said, putting down the kitchen knife, and focusing his body towards yours, he slithered his arm around your waist. “Yes, like some kind of mom, not fucking Gordon Ramsay.” You hissed. He chuckled. Pressing his lips to your jawline pecking soft kisses as to convince you why you should help him. “You’ll get extremely lucky tonight if you pull it off.” he said, you knew when it was time to push your luck when he wanted something from you, usually what he wanted from you was sex. You looked into his dark brown eyes, as he gave you the eyes he gave girls when he wanted to smooth talk them, his thumb rubbed circles over your skin as he was holding you, pressing his pelvis against your side. “I want a drawer.” You said, he raised his eyebrow. You had a spare toothbrush next to his already. But, he had yet to give you space in his big bachelor pad for you. “That’s it?” he asked. You nod. “Then we have an agreement.” he said, he sealed the deal with a kiss on your lips. “You are a terrible negotiator, sweetheart.” He said: “I would’ve given you half my closet.” he taps your ass as he walks over to the fridge. 

It was less than half an hour till everyone would show up for dinner. You were busy with the duck as you made Harvey focus on setting the table. In the fridge were enough starters that he just had to plate out, in the oven the vegetables and potatoes were baking, and the duck was almost cooked medium rare. Otherwise it would taste like shoe leather. You could feel Harvey’s big arms around your waist. “I can’t wait for dessert.” he said, you looked confused. You had made creme brulees that were now cooling on the counter, and only needed to be popped into the oven real quick right before dessert. “I didn’t know you liked creme brulee so much.” you said, as you moisten the duck with moisture from the pan. “I meant you.” he said, as he started to lightly suck on your neck. “Anybody can arrive any moment.” you mumbled. You didn’t stop his advances, instead you turned off the fire on the stove. He allowed you space to turn around. You wrap your arms around his neck. He had loosened his tie earlier, and rolled up his sleeves when he was helping you around in the kitchen. “You want to taste?” you asked, you leaned back and dipped your finger on the spoon that had been used to stir the duck. You held up the finger to his mouth as he lightly sucked off the sauce. “You’ve been holding out on me.” he teased. A smile appeared on your face. You could’ve stayed here for a while if you could but the doorbell rang, and Harvey signed before walking to the door as you switched your place to sitting at the bar, taking your wine glass in hand. 

You sat across from Harvey, you had been playing footsie with him for the past twenty minutes. Louis shoved the betting money across the table for Harvey, and now it was still sitting there in the middle. Everyone was chattering away, when Jessica sat down from going to the bathroom. “Do you have a new girlfriend, Specter?” She asked. You quickly take your foot away from his lap. You took your wine glass and took a gulp. “I don’t know what makes you think that.” He said, swirling his scotch. A lot of faces turned to Jessica and Harvey. A smile appeared on her face. “The pink bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the side of your shower.” She said: “The second toothbrush.” Harvey rolled his eyes. He usually never did. However, Jessica brought it out in him as he used to say. “They are Mike’s.” he said dead serious. “Sometimes I even let him sleep at my foot.” Mike was the only one that didn’t laugh when the laughter filled the room. “Fine. Don't tell me.” Jessica said, though she had the look on her face that said she’d figure it out. 

You left Harvey’s place around the time Rachel left together the two of you went with the subway home. You finally reach your place when you get a text. 

[Harvey] Come back

[Y/n] Are Louis and Mike still there?

[Harvey] I’ll get rid of them

[Y/n] I’ll think I will just go to sleep

[Harvey] No

[Y/n] i’m tired

[Harvey] I need to see you

[y/n] you saw me thirty minutes ago

[Harvey] Don’t make me come to Brooklyn Heights

[Y/n] I don’t live in Brooklyn Heights

[Y/n] Must’ve been your other girlfriend

[Harvey] ha ha just get your cute ass here

There was still hesitation to go back to Harvey’s considering you just spent almost half an hour getting home. It would be half an hour back as well. In downtown Brooklyn almost everything that had something to do with Pearson Hardman took a while. You pictured what would happen if you’d go to his right now. But, as you were considering the pros and cons you already started to pack a clean outfit for tomorrow morning to take with you. 

When you got back to Harvey’s apartment he was loading up his dishwasher.”Well look at you cleaning, and cooking.” you said, as you threw your weekend bag to the ground. “I knew you’d come back.” he said, you signed. You sit down at the barstool at his kitchen counter. “You look hot doing manual labor, you know.” you said, he chuckled. “This is hardly manual labor.” he said, you shrugged. “For you it seems it is.” you teased. He gave you the glare that said he was going to make you pay for that comment later. 

He had been making you pay for that comment earlier, with your hands tied up to the bedpost with one of his expensive ties. He had made you cum at least two times already ordering you to orgasm on his fingers. He was motioning his hips in and out of you as you pulled at the tie rope, wanting him to continue to fuck you even if everything felt overly sensitive and borderline painful as you kept moaning his name. “I told you that you’d get lucky tonight.” He said, slowing his pace a little to allow you to catch your breath. You were a mumbling mess just a string of incoherent words flowed from yours lips. Once Harvey mentioned he might love you most like this. He teased you by taking your breast into his hand, allowing his tongue to create circles over your nipple causing you to gasp. You couldn’t keep your eyes open as the pleasure kept building within. “Eyes on me, sweetheart” he said, taking your chin in one hand making you open your eyes, and look at him as he picked up a harder pace. All you wanted to do was touch his skin, and have something to hold on when it got too much. You pushed yourself to him, and kissed his lips, intensifying the experience. You begged him to make you cum, and the hand went from your chin to your clit as he motioned a pattern. You cried out his name as you felt pleasure come over you. He continued to chase his own high, as he hid his face in your neck, until he stiffened in his own pleasure. It took the two of you a moment to catch your breath, he got up and put on his underwear. He took his phone from his nightstand, you look at him wondering if he forgot. “Hey, can you untie me?” you asked him. He looked at you letting his eyes gaze top to bottom. “No, you look sexy like this.” he said, in return he got a glare coming from you. He decided to untie you, he looked you deep in the eye. “There is space in the closet for you.” He said: “next time, bargain your worth.” he pecked a kiss on your lips.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: A year has passed since Hannah and Beth's disappearance after the prank and Josh has invited everyone back to the lodge to relive old memories. But when you and Mike take a detour to the cabin, the night spirals into a nightmare beyond anything you imagined. Now, you're thrust into a desperate fight for survival as a vengeful Wendigo prowls the mountain, hungry for flesh and revenge.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Takes place during the events of the game. Mike and Emily/Jess are not together in this. No use of Y/N. Mike and the reader are now together. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex. More plot than porn. Lots of characters deaths, some more explicit but nothing too graphic. Happy ending?

Part 2 of 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔡𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥. The chapters that i focused on are chapter 1-3-4-7-8-10 to anyone interested <3. When you see long spaces it means that we are moving to the next chapter. I hope nothing is too confusing, i tried my best.

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Words count: 12000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The sky is tinged with fading sunlight, casting a warm glow over the snow-covered mountains.

The place is quieter than usual. With just you, Mike and Ashley here so far, it feels almost peaceful.

Josh is nowhere to be seen, likely off searching for a way to enter the lodge, and Mike is beside you, his arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he takes a look at the place.

You're leaning on one of the woody rail nearby, hand playing with the snow there.

"You’re excited to see Chris again?" You asked Ashley quietly, leaning against Mike and feeling a warmth settle in your chest at the sight of her expression.

She looks up from her phone and a slight blush spreads across her cheeks "Well... he's always excited to be here, right? I mean, we're all friends."

"That's why you've checked your phone about a hundred times in the last ten minutes?"

She bites her lip, a flustered laugh escaping her as she glances away. "I was just... you know, checking the time, that's all."

"Of course," you reply, letting your voice carry the full weight of your teasing. "You two would be great together, though. You know that?"

"Thanks," she murmurs, glancing up at you with a look of gratitude before looking down at her phone.

You feel Mike shift beside you, and his hand finds yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle, familiar way that sends a pleasant warmth up your arm.

He leans in close to your ear and whispers something just for you to hear. "What do you say, handsome?" he murmurs. "Think we could sneak off for a bit? Just you, me, and a cozy little spot out back?" His hand drifts lower behind your back to playfully squeeze your butt. "I know a lot of ways to warm you up. Want to experience them yourself?"

You snort, rolling your eyes as a flush creeps up your cheeks. "I'm not doing that out here in the cold. You'll have to wait."

"You're worth waiting for," he grumbles, flashing that grin again to you.

"I'm going to check if Sam and Chris are here yet," you say, glancing up at him and kissing his lips quickly . "Be back soon."

Mike raises a hand in a lazy wave as he watched you walking away. "I'll be here, waiting patiently... or impatiently, whatever comes first."

You've started to run down the path for fun, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Memories of your year with Mike drift through your mind, one after another. The excitement and nervousness of your first date, that late-night drive to a quiet lookout. The countless messages he'd send daily, even when he was busy, letting you know he was thinking about you or the way he looks at you like you're the only person who matters. The cold seems to fade, replaced by a warmth that fills you from head to toe.

The anniversary of those memories is just around the corner, and the thought of spending it with him brings a grin to your face.

Soon enough, you see two familiar faces behind a closed door. You rushed there in time and pressed the button to open it.

Sam's face lights up as she pulls you into a tight hug. "It's been ages! How's it been?” she says, her voice full of genuine happiness.

You chuckle, patting her shoulder as you step back. "Good! Life's good. And you? How's everything been?"

She shrugs, a wry smile on her face. "Nothing that exciting to know. I hope everything will go well this weekend" her face shifted for a second as she glanced back at the lodge far ahead.

Chris steps forward, his smile wide as he gives you a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Hey, man. Glad you could make it. I saw all the stories and posts Mike put on his socials. Someone gave you a little push in the right direction, eh?"

You nod, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Yeah, we are. He's... well, he's pretty amazing. Guess he hasn’t figured out how weird I am yet. Finger crossed for another year of him tolerating me"

Chris laughed loudly together with you. "Damn, look at that! I knew my matchmaking skills were top-notch." He gestures to himself with a mock bow. Sam stifles a laugh, giving you a knowing smile.

"Oh yeah, because you totally did all the work," she teases, nudging him with her elbow.

You can't help the fondness that fills you as you open your arms and pull both of them into a spontaneous group hug. "Missed my besties," you say, squeezing them both.

Chris groans playfully, though he leans in, and Sam laughs, wrapping her arms around you, warmth flooding through the three of you.

Sam pulls back a little, looking up at you with a thoughtful smile. "So, wanna do some hiking trip this weekend? Or are you too busy with... boyfriend things?"

You laugh, nodding eagerly. "Of course, I'll make time for it. Want to add some climbing as well?" You glance over at Chris, adding with a grin, "I think Ashley's been looking forward to seeing you, too”

Chris freezes, his face paling slightly as he stares at you with wide eyes. "Wait, what did you tell her?"

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What do you mean? I just mentioned a few things. Gave her a heads-up that you were excited to see her."

Sam bites back a laugh, watching Chris squirm with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. "Relax, Chris. It's not like she doesn't already know. You're kind of obvious, you know?"

Chris groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "This is going to be a nightmare," he mutters, but there's a small, almost shy smile on his face, like he's secretly looking forward to it.

The three of you head back up toward the lodge, chatting and catching up as you walk, the snow crunching underfoot as the familiar outline of the building comes into view.

You see Mike leaning against the wall. His eyes light up when he sees you and he pushes off the wall, making his way over.

“You made me wait way too long” he teases, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulls you close.

You roll your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. "Please. You'd have followed me down if I took any longer."

"Damn right I would have," he replies, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. "Can't let my favorite guy get too far out of sight."

All four of you catch up on everything you missed out on each others in this days.

Josh, fighting with the frozen handle, calls Chris over for some help. Chris nods toward him and you went to follow to help and get the chance to talk with Josh after all this time

The decision you made a year ago, involving Hannah, still haunted you. It only grew worse with each passing day after her and Beth’s disappearance. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak with him without the crushing weight of guilt for what had happened to his sisters.

He doesn't look up right away, his shoulders tense, jaw set. For a moment, he's just staring at the door, like he's somewhere far away. Finally, he turns, his face relaxing into a grin.

Chris, concern evident in his voice, asks, "You doing okay?"

Josh nods, though there's a hesitation there, something unspoken. "Yeah. Just past it now, you know? Ready for a weekend with my friends. Let's make it memorable."

Josh then turns to look at you with an unexpected question, almost casually asking, "Let’s say you’re in a life-or-death situation. Who do you save? The person you’ve got a crush on or Chris, your best friend?"

The question catches you off guard. Chris blinks, staring at Josh in confusion while you feel your own stomach twist in discomfort. You laugh it off at first but Josh doesn't drop it, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Answer honestly. It would mean reaffirming the loyalty and depth of your friendship, showing that friendship holds a unique importance to you, separate from romantic affection.

Deflect with humor. Joking about the choice would ease the tension. Chris might laugh it off and Josh's curiosity would go unsatisfied. However it would hint that maybe you're avoiding vulnerability.

Answer honestly

You rest a hand on Chris's shoulder, meeting Josh's gaze with a steady look. "I'd save Chris," you say, your voice calm but sincere. "A crush isn't enough to put a friend's life at risk or, you know, my own life. In that case you would cover me up, right?" You winked at Chris at the last part, hoping to ease the tension that Josh brought. Chris's expression shifts, softening, his eyes reflecting a gratitude that goes unspoken. A flicker of recognition passes through his gaze, something understood as he analyzed your words carefully.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"So that means you'd pick me over Mike?" he teases, his voice light and a grin present on his face.

You laugh, nudging him lightly. "That’s a different story! Especially now that I've been together with him for almost a year. If a psycho for some reason forces me to make a choice between you two, I'll probably just throw myself off a cliff or something"

The snow crunched beneath your feet as you followed Mike, your breaths visible in the chill mountain air. Ahead, the small cabin came into view, a hidden little nook away from the lodge where Mike said he wanted to take you to.

On the way there, you came across a small and old looking building where Mike strode over, walking inside through the missing door. You waited, your curiosity piqued as you heard the sounds of him rummaging around.

A moment later, he reappeared, holding a mask, rusty and all black. He slipped it on, the mask completely covering his face.

"C'mere, gimme a kiss" he teased, his voice muffled behind the mask. He leaned forward, the masked face inching closer, but you recoiled, scrunching your nose in mock disgust.

“Mike, that thing probably had more mouths on it than a barstool"

He pauses, considering your words, then yanks it off, wincing in disgust. "Fair point."

He tosses the mask aside and wrapped his arm around you as you continue walking.

An horrible sound echoed from a distance, followed by a scream of pain from an deer. You soon enough spotted one lying off the path breathing heavily, its body twisted at an unnatural angle. A large gash along its neck. You glance at Mike, who steps forward and tries to think of what to do.

Put an End to Its Suffering. The deer's labored breaths shudder through the cold air. He could end it now, spare the creature further pain, the mercy quick and final.

Comfort the Deer. The creature lies there, its body trembling from pain and fear. He could try to soothe it, offer it a few last moments of peace, a kindness amidst the cruelty of the wilderness.

He takes a slow breath, crouching down, his hand reaching out and he makes his choice.

Put an end to it’s suffering

There's a serious look in his eyes as he kneels beside it, placing a steady hand on the deer to calm it. "You, uh... might want to look away."

But you don't. You watch as he tries to do the humane thing and took a step forward to try and help him out but he moves his hands, trying to get a solid grip and with an unexpected crunch, the wound worsens and the deer's head comes off in his hands.

Mike recoils, eyes wide, dropping the head immediately. "Oh, holy-!" he takes a shaky step back, brushing his hands on his jeans with a horrified expression.

You're just as stunned, your own eyes wide as you take in the surreal sight but something rustles nearby and snatch the deer's body, dragging it off into the woods with surprising speed

“Run!" Mike grabs your hand, the fear and adrenaline sending you both flying back toward the chalet. Snow kicks up in clouds beneath your boots as you sprint, your heart pounding with the thrill and terror of whatever that creature was. The wind cuts cold against your face but you barely feel it as you focus on Mike's hand holding yours pulling you forward.

"Don't let go!" he calls, glancing back every few steps to make sure you're right there beside him.

The cabin looms ahead and as soon as you reach the door, he shoves it open, practically pulling you inside before slamming it shut behind you. Both of you stand there, breathing hard, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you process what just happened.

“Maybe it was a bear?” Mike tried to make sense of the situation you experienced.

“I didn’t see or hear a bear, though” there is a drop of sweat already present on your forehead.

“Don’t think about it. Whatever animal it was, it can’t come here inside”

You sank into the couch, the air inside the cabin was carrying a faint scent of cedar and something earthy. You glanced over at Mike who plopped down right next to you, his body pressing close.

He leaned back, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch. His hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers settling there naturally, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

"You know," he said, his voice low and filled with a familiar warmth, I may have asked Josh if we could stay here tonight. Just us, in this cozy little love shack." He turned to look at you, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint that made your heart skip a beat.

"Didn't expect to be sweating out here with you for saving my life," you replied, a playful tone in your voice.

He let out a soft laugh, his fingers giving a light squeeze on your thigh.“If you think this heat is something, wait until we really turn it up.” he teased back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Something catches his attention and he gets up from the couch. Mike's eyes narrow playfully as he raises his chin in a mock proud stance, grabbing a old rifle from its spot by the wall and lifting it.

"Look. I'd make an amazing hunter, don’t you think?" he boasts, posing with the rifle as if he were an expert marksman. "Picture it: me coming back every day with something new for you. Deer, elk, maybe even a bear if I'm feeling ambitious."

You snicker, crossing your arms as you lean back. "Right. And we’ll celebrate the collection by starting with the head of that deer with something written on it like: 'Local Hero Mike Munroe terrorized by Bambi’"

"Oh, you're hilarious," he mutters, setting the rifle aside as he strides over to you. "Keep that up and see what it gets you." He tossed his jacket aside as he felt the heat from the run catching up to him, remaining in a simple white tank top despite the weather outside.

"Oh, really?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow as you edge off the couch to toss your jacket on the table.

“If you're gonna make fun of me, you'd better be ready to back it up."

Before you knew it, he was lunging toward you, and you darted off, laughing as you escaped successfully around the other side of the couch, watching as he straightened up.

He raises an eyebrow, moving a few steps closer, his gaze playful but intense. He tilts his head, letting his gaze drift over you in a way that makes you feel hot inside. "Are you ready to lose?"

He lunges forward, his movements quick, almost catching you by surprise again, but you dart around him in time, laughing as you stay just out of reach.

Mike lets out a mock growl, his eyes narrowing as he starts to close the distance between you. "you're only making it worse for yourself." he says, his voice a soft, teasing murmur as he edges closer, arms wide open to catch any possible attempts you could make to slip away.

"How's that?" you challenge, keeping your distance as you hide behind the other side of the couch.

"Because when I catch you, it's going to be twice as sweet." and he lets out a playful growl, quickening his pace as he closes the distance between you and with a sudden burst of speed, he leapt over the couch, landing just in front of you. His hands wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

He leaned forward, one of his arm slipped underneath your knees and you were playfully hitting him on the shoulder to break free.

With a grunt, he managed to lift you up bridal style and dropped you on the couch.

Soon he pulled himself on top of you, hovering over your body completely, his weight keeping you trapped underneath him.

"Caught you," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek as he looked down at you, his expression both triumphant and adoring.

"Alright, alright, you won," you whispered, feeling the heat rise in your face. But he didn't let go. Instead, he tightened his hold, tilting his head as his gaze softened, his fingers tracing slow, gentle patterns at your waist.

"Couldn't have asked for a better catch," he asked, his voice a low, teasing drawl. He leaned in, his lips brushing just barely against yours. Words got caught in your throat as he closed the distance, his mouth pressing firmly against yours, deep and insistent.

His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, a kind of hunger in the way he holds you close, like he's savoring every second.

You respond, your hands slipping around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Mike's hands slipped under your shirt, his touch firm as he dragged it over your head and tossed it aside.

He wasted no time, his lips returning to yours with fervor, his tongue pressed against yours, demanding and eager to get a taste.

His hands moved lower, undoing the button of your pants with practiced ease, and before you knew it, you were standing half-naked in front of him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

His hands roaming over your skin, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest. His body pressing against yours as he continued his relentless assault on your senses.

His fingers worked at your waistband, pulling your pants down in one swift motion before he settled between your legs.

"You're so damn perfect," Mike growled against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. His light beard scraped tantalizingly against your flesh with every heated kiss. His lips moved with a possessive urgency, exploring your neck, trailing down with his hands.

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach. Mike's hunger only fueled at the sight of you like this and when he finally reached between your legs, your body arched off the bed, desperate for more

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. The vibration of your moans against his mouth made everything ten times better for him.

He kept stroking you and you curl into him.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans, rubbing his hardening self against your own with no remorse or embarrassment.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction. You buckle his belt to pull him out of his jeans and boxers and he reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you. "Ready?" he rasped, his voice thick with need.

"Fuck! Yes pleas-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

He slid his hand between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your entrance. You could feel the anticipation building as he teased you, his touch deliberate and calculated.

Mike's fingers slid inside you slowly, stretching you open as he worked you with a steady rhythm that had you trembling beneath him.

His free hand gripped your hip, holding you firmly in place as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out of you with expert precision, curling at the right spot that made you arche your back. You could feel the heat building in your core, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust of his hand.

"So perfect," Mike murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You could barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure as he continued his relentless pace.

Just as you were on the verge to fall apart, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and desperate for more.

The head of his length is now nudging at your entrance. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he pushes forward, sinking into you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, your body stretching to accommodate him as he fills you completely.

Mike groans softly, his forehead resting against the back of your neck as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him as he stretched you open.

Mike groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself to the hilt, his body trembling with restraint.

"Fuck" his voice a low growl as he began to move, setting a slow, agonizing pace that had you panting for breath.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he thrust into you, his movements steady and deliberate. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body tightening around him as he pushed you closer to the edge.

The small room was filled with the sounds of your ragged breathing, the wet slap of skin against skin as Mike drove into you, his pace relentless. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you, the pleasure building until it was almost unbearable.

"Mike," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm close."

He groaned in response, his pace quickening as he chased his own release, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensing with the effort. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrust into you harder, faster.

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your body trembling with the need to let go. And then, with one final thrust, you shattered, pleasure washing over you in waves as you came apart beneath him.

Mike followed soon after, his body tensing as he buried himself inside you one last time, his release spilling into you as he grunted against your lips.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room the ragged gasps of your breath. Mike's body was warm and solid against yours, his hands still gripping your hips as he slowly came down from his high.

Finally, he pulled and collapsed on top of you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

Minutes passed and were spent with him relaxing against you. Each quick, playful kiss he placed on your neck ignited a flutter of joy in your heart. With every stroke of your fingers through his hair, he let out a contented sigh, leaning into your touch.

The quiet piece is shattered suddenly by the loud sound of glass breaking. Both you and Mike freeze, your smiles fading as the unexpected noise jolts you back to reality.

"What the hell was that?" Mike mutters, already standing up and moving toward the sound with a look of concern etched on his face.

You pulled your shirt back on and stood up, heart pounding as you followed him a few steps. "Stay here," he says, glancing back at you.

You hesitate, a twinge of anxiety creeping in but nod as he heads toward the other room where the sound came from. You slipped back on your jeans while moving over to the window, pulling aside the curtains to peer out into the night, searching for anything unusual.

Something on the snow caught your attention just outside, right here in front of the stairs.

Lean closer to Investigate. Curiosity gnaws at you, an urge to move and see for yourself. It’s right here outside. One quick look can't hurt... right?

Inform Mike about it. It hopefully won’t disappear soon despite the snow falling rapidly. You can go and inform Mike about it along with also seeing what happened with the window.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. And in a single, decisive moment, you make your choice.

Lean closer to investigate

A faint shimmer appear, the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Curiosity gets the better of you and without a second thought, you lean closer to the window. Your warm breath fog the window but not enough for it to be at the same height of your eyes.

Footsteps oddly spaced stretch from the edge of the woods toward the chalet. There's something... wrong about them, something that makes your skin crawl. The tracks don't look human, they're wider, deeper, and almost clawed. They're fresh, not yet filled in by drifting snow and tinted in red crimson blood. Whatever made these prints is close. Too close.

You turned around when you heard Mike coming back, his voice confused as he told you about something that broke the window.

You barely had time to inform him about what you saw before the glass behind you shatters and claws dig into your shoulders as you're pulled back, helpless against the force dragging you

You soon made contact with the snow as you got dragged further and further away from the cabin and into the woods.

The thing holding you is relentless, hauling you over snow and rock with an unnatural speed that makes your head spin. Fear crashes over you like a wave, cold and consuming. You thrash, trying to free yourself, your hands scraping against hard, rough skin.

You hear from not far the frantic shouts of a voice you know well. Mike. He's chasing after you, calling your name in a voice filled with fear and desperation but you can barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears.

All you can think about is survival.

Desperately, you claw at the ground, fingers scrambling for anything to slow down the creature dragging you deeper into the trees. Your hand brushes against something solid, a branch half-buried in the snow. Without a second thought, you grab it and slam it upward, striking the creature’s arm.

The creature hisses, a guttural, furious sound that shakes your bones, but its grip loosens just enough for you to tear yourself free, stumbling forward and landing face-first in the snow. Cold bites at your skin as you scramble to your feet, legs already aching from the strain, but you can't afford to stop.

Not now.

Your injuries slow you down. Blood seeps from your arms and legs, leaving a trail as you push through the forest. Every breath feels like fire in your chest, your vision blurring around the edges as you force yourself forward, stumbling over rocks and roots.

In the distance, Mike's voice reaches you, a lifeline you cling to even as fear claws at your heart. You risk a glance back, just a fleeting second, and see him from afar, rifle in hand, his eyes wide with terror as he takes in your disheveled form and the blood marking your path.

He shouts your name desperately, his voice is raw, terrified and it propels you forward with renewed urgency.

But before you can reach him, the creature catches your ankle, sending you sprawling to the ground once more. Pain jolts through you as you hit the frozen earth, your vision going dark for a split second as it kept moving forward deep inside the woods and far away from Mike until you could no longer see him.

It stopped abruptly, it’s clawed hand slashes through the air, inches from your face, before a bright flash of light erupts behind it.

A burst of flame cuts through the night, illuminating the creature's twisted form as it recoils with a screech, backing away from the intense heat. You blink, disoriented, your eyes adjusting to the sudden glow. A figure stands a few feet away, wielding a flamethrower with a practiced ease, his face covered by a mask and big glasses for the snow.

"Get up," he barks, the command cold and unyielding. "Follow me, now."

Still dazed and struggling to catch your breath, you hesitate and the stranger's moves closer, the flames licking dangerously close as he gestures again with the flamethrower.

"I said, move."

With no other option, you stagger to your feet, following him as he leads you through the trees. Blood drips down your leg, each step a painful reminder of your injuries, but fear propels you onward. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, hoping to see Mike but to not success.

From a distance, Mike watches, heart pounding as he tracks your struggling form, his pulse surging with terror and fury.

He sees you stumbling through the snow, your face pale and stricken, blood streaking your clothes and painting the ground beneath you. His stomach twists painfully. His hands tighten on the old rifle he'd grabbed from the cabin, fingers white with the grip.

His eyes flick to the figure standing near you, holding a flamethrower. Mike can't make out the man's face due to the position but he's close enough to see the way the stranger's hand grips your arm, steering you with a harsh, unyielding authority.

A surge of rage floods Mike's chest into something cold and vengeful.

He shouts, his voice cracking with a desperation he can't hide but you’re too far away for him to hear. He raises the rifle, leveling it with a single, fierce purpose. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, drowning out the sounds around him. All he can think about is protecting you, keeping you safe, stopping this man who had the nerve to lay his hands on you.

He pulls the trigger.

Nothing happens.

Mike stares at the gun, disbelief and frustration crashing over him in a sickening wave. His hands tremble as he frantically checks the rifle, but it's no use. The damn thing's too old, a relic that was never meant for anything more than decoration.

“Jammed up piece of shit” he muttered to himself as he tossed the gun on the ground but not before taking the sight off.

His fists clench, anger and self-loathing simmering just beneath the surface. If he'd only been quicker. If he'd only gotten to you sooner.

You stumble over your own feet as the stranger pulls you forward, his hand gripping your arm with an iron strength that doesn't allow for argument or hesitation. Your head throbs and a nauseating chill seeps into your bones

He's silent, his face obscured by the mask he is wearing. You're not sure whether you should be more afraid of the creature that attacked you or of this stranger.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask, your voice rough, scraping against the quiet. Panic flutters in your chest, but you keep it in check, trying to sound braver than you feel.

The stranger’s grip tightens, his voice low and cold as he finally speaks. "To the sanatorium. Only place you'll be safe."

Safe? You can't help the bitter laugh that escapes, but it sounds foreign even to your ears, tinged with the underlying fear that pulses with each beat of your heart. "And I'm just supposed to trust you?"

He doesn't respond, his silence as solid as stone. You're struck by the thought that maybe he doesn't care if you trust him at all. To him, you're just another problem to be dealt with, whether you like it or not.

You feel the blood trickling down your calf, soaking into your jeans, and you know that each step leaves a fresh trail in the snow, a trail that anything or anyone could follow.

The old building looks even more haunting up close, its windows shattered, its walls covered in a thick layer of ice and grime.

Your footsteps falter as you take it in, the realization sinking in that this terrifying ruin is where he intends to take you.

The stranger seems to sense your hesitation, and he stops, turning to you with a hard, assessing gaze. "You don't understand what's out there," he says, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.

You square your shoulders, meeting his gaze with as much strength as you can muster. "Then tell me," you say, the words steady but quiet, a demand laced with a plea. "Tell me what's going on. What was that thing?"

He hesitates, just for a moment, deciding how much to reveal. Then, with a deep sigh, he gestures toward the sanatorium. "Inside. We're not talking out here."

You follow him through the heavy, rusted doors, wincing as they creak open, the sound echoing through the hollow halls. Inside, the air is thick with dust and stale.

The stranger leads you deeper into the building, down a winding corridor lined with cracked tiles and peeling paint. He finally stops in what might have once been a treatment room, with a few battered chairs and a broken table shoved to the side.

Two wolves appear from the dark. A black one growling at you and a white one tilting his head as he looked at you curiously.

You leaned back against the cold, damp wall, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you as the adrenaline began to fade.

With a quiet hiss of pain, you tore off a strip of fabric from your shirt, pressing it against a particularly deep scratch along your arm. The fabric was thin and already damp from the cold air, but it was all you had, and the pressure seemed to slow the bleeding. You shifted your weight, your hand shaking as you worked to tie the makeshift bandage in place, gritting your teeth against the sting that flared with each movement.

The stranger knelt down, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached into a pocket, pulling out a small roll of cloth. He hesitated, his masked face turning to you, as if silently asking for permission. You gave a slight nod, and he moved closer, crouching down to your level.

His gloved hands were surprisingly gentle as he pressed the cloth over a cut on your leg, inspecting the wound beneath. He muttered something under his breath. "Not too deep. You must be tough one to make it out here in one piece."

You managed a weak smile, though it barely masked the pain etched into your features. "I... I didn't have much of a choice. I just kept running."

"Smart," he murmured, adjusting the bandage on your arm, his fingers surprisingly steady and precise despite the thickness of his gloves. "It was all you could do in that situation. If you ever face them again, don’t move. It’s like toads. Sight is based on changes of movement in their field of vision"

He pulls out a small photograph from his jacket pocket and hands it to you. You take it, fingers trembling as you examine the image. The man in the picture is a horror to behold. His face gaunt, his cheek on the left a gruesome patchwork of scarred, missing flesh, exposing jagged teeth beneath. His eyes are milky, blind and vacant, but there's something hauntingly human about his expression, a remnant of a person buried beneath the monstrous features, a true nightmare made flesh.

You swallow hard, slipping the photo into your pocket as the man turns around to throw a bone at the wolves.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"What you saw out there wasn't just any creature. It was once human, before the curse took it."

You blink, your mind scrambling to process the words. "A... curse?"

He nods, his gaze hardening. "Wendigos. Spirits that inhabit the bodies of those who commit cannibalism. It turns them into monsters, driven by the need to feed. And once it's taken hold, there's no going back."

"So... the thing that attacked me..." you start, your voice barely a whisper, "it used to be human?"

The Stranger's gaze softens, just for a moment, and he sighs. "The Wendigo remembers parts of what it once was. People, faces, moments. Things it hated. Things it wanted. All now mixed with hunger”

Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps reaches your ears, distinct and growing louder with each step. You freeze, the pulse of fear quickening in your veins. The man hears it too, his eyes narrow, his body going rigid as he listens. Without a word, he tightens his grip on your arm, helping you stand up and dragging you with him as he pulls you away from the main hallway

"Don't make a sound," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper, harsh and commanding.

You see a silhouette emerging around the corner and he starts to pull you backward, leading you out of the room, away from the figure.

The stranger led you down twisting passages until you reached an area near the entrance to the mines. He turned to you, his grip finally loosening, and gestured to a dark alcove.

"Stay here," he ordered, his voice low but firm. "I'll check to make sure the rest of your friends aren't out there. When it's clear, I'll take you back to the lodge."

You nodded, exhaustion overtaking you as you sank down against the wall, your mind spinning with worry for Mike. You touched your cheek again, feeling the sting of the cut, your pulse still racing as you waited, alone, the cold stone walls pressing in around you.

Back inside, Mike watches as your figure disappears around the corner, led away by that dark, looming man and a fury unlike anything he's ever felt boils up inside him. He takes a step forward, desperate to follow, but his path is blocked by a heavy iron door separating him from the main lobby, the missing key preventing him from giving chase. He shakes the door in frustration, feeling the cold metal dig into his palms as he rattles it, cursing under his breath.

"Dammit," he mutters, his voice low and seething. The image of your face twisted in confusion and fear is burned into his mind and that only makes the anger roiling within him burn hotter. He barely notices his surroundings as he slams his fist against the door, once, twice, the sharp pain a poor substitute for the wrath and worry he feels building inside him. That bastard had hurt you, taken you, and he has no idea where or why.

The night air bites at their faces, unforgiving and cold as Mike and Chris drag Josh through the snow. Mike's hand is iron around Josh's collar, yanking him forward with an urgency that leaves no room for argument, while Chris trails close behind.

The desperation in his eyes is like a fire that's threatening to spiral out of control.

"Mike," Chris starts, his voice quiet, hesitant as he watches his friend's clenched jaw, the tightness in his grip on Josh's shirt. "Maybe we should just take a second. Think this through."

"Talk?" Mike spat, his voice a low growl. "We've been talking, Chris. And he's not saying anything because he's lying." He looked back at Josh, his gaze cold, unforgiving. "He did this. He knows where he is and he's just sitting here, laughing in our faces."

All he can see is the image of you being dragged away, hurt and vulnerable, every second stretching like an eternity, his mind racing with fears that sink into his chest like stones.

They reach the shed. Mike throws the door open and shoves Josh inside, not giving him even a moment to catch his breath.

Josh stumbles as he's shoved against a wooden support beam, his wrists still bound. Both Chris and Mike stepped forward to tie down and immobilize Josh completely against the wooden beam.

"Where is he, Josh?" he demands, each word taut with barely contained fury. "He's out there, alone and injured because of your sick little games!" Mike's voice rises, his anger spilling over as he steps even closer, his face inches from Josh's.

Chris stands to the side, a knot of worry tightening in his gut. The thought of you being hurt, or worse, out there because of this was almost too much to process. A wave of guilt rushes over him, crashing against the worry and confusion roiling inside him. He remembers every joke, every moment you'd shared and the thought that Josh might be responsible for taking that away, it's enough to make his stomach turn.

"Josh, please," Chris says, his voice soft, pleading, as he takes a step forward. "If you know anything, just tell us. We're not... we're not doing this for fun, okay? He’s a friend. Just... please."

There's a flicker of something dark in Josh's eyes, something that only Chris seems to understand. A decision, a choice that still lingers in his memory. Josh seems to notice, his smirk growing wider, almost triumphant.

"You let him talk you into thinking you were important, that you mattered, and then you turned on the only one who would've stuck with you." Josh's voice is soft, insidious, as he watches Chris's face pale. "All it took was a few words, and look at the mess you made with her. But sure, keep believing that he's your friend. Keep thinking he's anything more than just... clever with his words."

Chris’s expression stricken, the weight of the accusation settling heavily on his shoulders, mingling with the unresolved guilt he's tried to keep buried.

Josh looks between the two of them, an air of smugness creeping into his expression. "What, Mike, you think he's anything special? Can you realize that he’s not really the angel you think he is?" he mutters, a sneer curling at the edge of his mouth.

Mike feels his hands tremble with the effort to hold himself back, to keep from lunging at Josh right then and there.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that," Mike hisses, his voice rough, a dangerous edge in his tone. "You don't get to say anything about him. Not after what you did."

Josh just laughs, a hollow, bitter sound that echoes through the empty shed. "You've got it bad, don't you? You'd do anything to convince yourself he's worth the risk."

Mike's fist slams into the wood beside Josh's head, sending a shower of splinters scattering to the ground. "You don't know a damn thing about what he means to me," Mike growls, his voice low, laced with a ferocity that makes Chris's breath catch. "Not a damn thing."

For the first time, there's a flicker of confusion in Josh's eyes, a hesitation that betrays the anger, the defiance in his expression.

“No... no... I don-. I’ve got a problem, Mike... I don’t remember hurting him...”

“Christ” Mike mutters to himself, looking around in disbelief at seeing how fucked up Josh’s mental health was.

“I mean, I feel like I would’ve remembered killing him, right?” Josh continued, his tone shifting from confusion to something Mike didn’t quite like. “If you were with him for a year, he must’ve had one hell of a body.” He flashed a smug grin at Mike.

Mike pulled out the gun from his jacket and pointed it at Josh, shouting with a desperation that borders on madness. “If you don't shut your fucking mouth, I swear I'll-"

"Mike!" Chris's voice trembles as he steps forward, reaching for his friend, fear evident in his eyes. "Don't do this. He's just messing with you. It's what he wants."

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the air thick with tension until Mike finally lowered the gun. He never wavered his gaze from Josh as he spoke to Chris.

“Go back to the lodge with the others” Mike told Chris as he glared down at him, his voice barely controlled, barely holding back the rage that's tearing him apart. "You sure you’re okay?" Chris whispers and Mike nods. “they’ll want to know everything’s fine up there”.

“You’re right. See you in the morning” Chris muttered, sparing a last glance at Josh before slowly making his way back to the lodge.

The lodge has grown quieter than ever, the weight of fear and exhaustion hanging heavy in the air. The night presses on, feeling endless. A loud scream echoed inside the woods and Emily soon bursts into the lodge, her face pale, her breaths coming fast and shallow. Snow clings to her hair and jacket and her eyes are wide, glazed over with a fear none of them have seen before. She's shaking, her body visibly trembling as she stands there, looking as though she's barely keeping herself upright.

"Emily?" Sam is the first to speak, her voice soft but filled with worry as her and Ashley carried her to the couch. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Emily takes a shaky breath, swallowing hard as she nods, though her expression is anything but calm. "A monster- it’s a monster!" she stammers, glancing around, her eyes darting from face to face.

“Em are you okay?” Chris asks, concerned but also curious about what happened to her.

"I’m fine. I just need to calm down. It was moving so damn fast- i just needed to get away!"

“Em, Em. You can relax... Josh was messing with us but we-“

“You’re not listening to me!” Emily swallows again, her hands shaking as she raises one to her mouth, pressing her knuckles to her lips in a nervous gesture.

The group falls silent, their faces reflecting a mix of shock and unease as Emily explains to everyone how she called for help from the tower and she found herself in the mines after it collapsed.

"I found Beth’s dead body" she whispers, her voice barely audible, but her words carry through the room, settling like stones in their chests. "I didn’t find Hannah but I found some of her things there. It seemed she was just there starving to death while we were all searching for her up here"

“Em! You made it” Mike entered the lodge breathless from running.

She got up from the couch and immediately hugged him.

“What about Matt?”

“We’re trying to figure it out...”

“And there is also this “monster” that was chasing her-“

A loud knock at the door made everyone turn. A fresh wave of panic settled over them. Mike's hand instinctively goes to his side, reaching for the gun, but he stops short, his face tense as he glances around.

"I'll check it out," he mutters, glancing at Chris, who nods, his expression equally wary.

They move toward the door cautiously, every step filled with tension. He opens the door slowly, his hand poised on the gun and there, framed in the doorway, stands a stranger, his face full in view this time. He moves with a speed that catches Mike off guard, wrenching the gun from his grip in one smooth motion.

"Easy," the stranger says, his voice a low rumble, as he lowers the gun, his gaze intense but steady. He glances over his shoulder, nodding toward the darkness outside. "It's safe. You can come in."

There's a moment of silence and then, slowly, you step into the doorway. You're limping just slightly, your clothes torn and dirty and covered up by an old jacket similar to Mike’s one, your face bruised but alive.

Mike's heart stops, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he stares at you. He can barely move, his eyes wide, unable to process what he’s seeing. For a split second, he thought that it was a dream until you take that hesitant step forward and reality crashes in. He whispers your name, his voice barely audible, filled with a raw, aching vulnerability he can't hide. And then he's there, crossing the distance in an instant, wrapping you in his arms, holding you tightly.

The warmth of his embrace floods over you, the steady weight of his arms filling you with a sense of safety you haven't felt since the night began. You return the hug, exhaustion seeping into every muscle, and you let yourself sink into his warmth, closing your eyes as you let the moment wash over you.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Mike's voice cracks, and he buries his face in your shoulder, his breath shaky as he struggles to hold back the emotion.

You reach up, brushing your hand against his cheek, and manage a tired smile. "I made it back." you whisper, your voice soft but steady.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze scanning every bruise, every cut, his fingers brushing gently over each mark. "Are you hurt? What... what did this do to you?" His voice is laced with worry, a protectiveness that's fierce, almost desperate, as he holds your face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek

You reached up to cover his hand with yours. "I'm okay, don’t worry" you murmur, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Chris steps forward then, his eyes wide, relief flooding his expression as he pulls you into a hug, his grip firm, steady. "Man, you scared the hell out of us," he says, his voice thick with emotion. He pulls back, a grin breaking through the tension as he adds, "Don't ever do that again, okay?"

A small laugh escapes you, and the tension in the room begins to ease. You all follow the stranger and get to where the girls were waiting.

"Thank god you’re okay." Sam says softly, a warm smile on her face as she carefully hugged you to avoid any further pain.

Emily, still recovering from the shock she went through, gave a curt nod in your direction. "You look like you have been through hell" she mutters.

You manage a small smile, grateful for each familiar face.

The man clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him, his gaze steady, a hard look in his eyes. "I don't have time for reunions," he says, his tone firm but not unkind. "There's something you need to understand."

Everyone falls silent, their faces tense as they turn to him. Mike leads you to the couch, pulling you down beside him, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close as you leaned against him.

The stranger begins to speak, his voice low and grave as he explains the truth of the mountain, the curse that turned the ones who commit cannibalism into unrecognizable monsters. His words hang heavy in the air, each one sinking into them like stones.

Mike's hand tightens on your waist, his gaze dark as he listens, his mind racing with the reality of what you must have endured all alone. The knowledge that you survived this and made it back to him fills him with a mixture of pride and fear that he can't shake.

When the stranger finishes, silence falls over the room, the weight of his warning settling into every corner, pressing down on each of them. Chris is the first to break the silence, his face set, determined. "So... what do we do?"

The stranger's gaze sharpens, his expression hard, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "You’re going to need to find somewhere safe to hide"

“For how long?”

“Until dawn”

They all nod, a shared understanding passing between them.

“Guys... i ran out and left Josh when i heard screaming” Mike told everyone, guilt spreading on his face at realizing what could happen to Josh.

“Your friend is already dead” the stranger spoke with unwavering certainty.

Chris steps forward. “No, no he can’t be. We were just with him a moment ago”

“A lot can happen quickly on this mountain”

"I'm gonna get him," Chris said with determination. "I’m supposed to be his best friend and i let him down"

“Then i’ll go with you” the man said, offering Chris a rifle to fight if needed.

Chris takes a deep breath, steeling himself and holding the rifle tightly to his chest as he stares at the door, the stranger next to him and ready to leave to rescue Josh. Just as he's about to turn away, he notices you and Mike standing together. Mike's arm is still around you but you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, leaning in close to murmur something to him. His face softens and he reluctantly lets you go, his hand lingering for a moment longer.

You walk toward Chris, your movements slow but steady, the worst of your injuries seeming to fade, the pain dulled and it gives you a chance to run again thanks to the man’s help. You hold up a hand for a high five, grinning just a bit. "Be careful out there, alright?"

Chris smirks, the familiar glint of humor in his eyes. "Hey, you know me. Careful my middle name." He claps your hand, his expression softening slightly. "We'll get through this."

Your gaze shifts to the stranger, a silent expression of gratitude in your eyes as you give him a slight nod. He meets your gaze, there's a faint hint of acknowledgment in the way he inclines his head.

Turning back, you move toward Mike. You catch sight of Ashley leaning against the wall, her gaze fixed on Chris with a strange, distant expression, something that you never saw on her when together with Chris. You pause, opening your mouth to ask her if she's alright, but she steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder to help you back toward Mike.

You give her a small nod, something unsettled lingering in your mind but you let it go as she guides you back to Mike. You feel his hand slip around your waist again, steady and reassuring, his warmth grounding you as you settle beside him, leaning into his side as he guides you to the basement with the others.

The atmosphere in the basement is heavy with silence, an oppressive weight settling over everyone. You were sitting down on one of the tables there, looking at all the cameras present there together with Sam and Emily. The door creaks open, and Ashley stumbles down, followed closely by Mike. You can see immediately the way his face is drawn, his eyes hollow, a deep sadness etched into every line.

He looks at you, the pain in his gaze made you fear the worst. "Chris... he didn't make it," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath.

You feel the ground shift beneath you, the words sinking in with an ache so sharp it feels physical. Chris, your friend, is gone. Your throat tightens and the reality of the situation claws at you, an emptiness that leaves you hollow.

Ashley stands frozen, her face pale and expressionless. Emily immediately moves to her side, reaching for her hands, while Sam steps forward, her voice soft with sympathy. "Ash... I'm so sorry."

Ashley shakes her head, her jaw clenched as she stares past them, her eyes glassy with shock. "I'm fine," she insists, her voice hollow and distant, "I'm fine."

Sam's voice is soft, cautious as she looks at Mike. "What about the man with the flamethrower? Did... did he make it?"

Mike shakes his head, his voice a low, haunted murmur. "Didn’t see him coming back. He's dead, too."

The walls seem to close in and Mike moves with big steps towards you and hold you tightly, pulling you closer, "I’m so sorry”. His hand moves gently to your back, tracing soothing circles, his fingers trembling slightly.

You find yourself melting into his touch, his hold a balm to the raw pain in your chest.

Mike began searching around the place and on the cameras to look for any possible other escape. Josh had the key for the cable car. The wendigos might have taken him to the sanatorium and he declared he will go there to get them and save him.

All of your friends group around the table to analyze the map left by the man, talking about the mines and the sanatorium.

You’re too deep in thoughts to participate in it. You felt tears ready to spill down from your eyes as you kept thinking about Chris and the man’ deaths.

“Em... Em, what is that?” Ashley's tone of voice was concerning. You looked up in time to see all of your friends slowly backing away from Emily as she kept a hand on her shoulder.

You got down from the table and wiped away the tears on your eyes. Stepping closer but stopping when you noticed blood seeping through her shoulder.

“Ash...” Emily began to talk, her gaze moving towards everyone as she carefully thought about her next words

“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god! Oh, no, oh, no!” Ashely was freaking out as her gaze moved back and forth to Mike and Emily.

“It’s nothing. It just- it bit me and-“ Emily tried to explain but Ashley's loud voice interrupted her again.

“It bit you? What bit you?!”

You took another step closer while Ashley grew increasingly agitated with each word.

“The...ah... the wendigo,” Emily stammered, her voice trembling with fear rather than conviction. “It’s nothing, really. It’s not a big deal—it doesn’t hurt anymore, not really.”

Mike takes a step back "Em... if that thing bit you..."

“I know what you’re thinking and i’m fine” she took a step forwards and expanded her hands towards Mike but he backed away, his arm moving in front of you to shield you from her as he stepped away.

“Emily at least let us check it out,” Sam told her quietly, hoping to calm her down.

“Emily... if the wendigo bit you, you could turn into one of those things” Mike told her as he kept his arm in front of you.

“Oh that’s ridiculous” Sam said, her voice rising in frustration as she stepped forward to intervene. But Ashley sharply spoke again, her expression a mix of desperation and impatience.

“He said it was from EATING each other- remember, he said that! It happens if it bites you, you’re gonna turn into one of those things and you’re gonna turn in on us. Oh my god. Oh, my god! OH MY GOD”

Was it really like that? The man told you that it happened if someone committed cannibalism but he never told you about bites or other things like that. Was it just common knowledge and he didn’t told you because it was oblivious?

You took a step forward and felt pain radiating on your shoulder. A whimper of pain was heard through your closed lips and Mike turned around immediately, his arm outstretched in front of you while slowly moving you behind him as he positions himself between you and the perceived threat.

“You can’t be down here with us. You gotta go. You’re putting us ALL in danger” Mike told Emily firmly, no hesitation on his face or voice.

“Like hell I am!” This was the first time you saw Emily this desperate.

“Mike, just cool your head, okay? We don’t know how it works, maybe it’s just a bite” Sam said, her voice steady but edged with concern, though the unease in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t entirely convinced herself.

“What is this? Guys, what are you doing” Emily looked more and more scared the longer she looked around at all of you.

“Door’s right there. I’m letting you doing this voluntarily” Mike spoke firmly at her.

“Oh, no. You’re just doing this to make yourself feel better about sending me to my death because you know there’s a wendigo out there ready to rip me to pieces like it did with-“

“OKAY, OH MY GOD! WILL YOU JUST GO?! GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” Ashley screamed at the top of her lungs, voice full of frustration and terror at this point.

Mike move towards the table and took the gun, pointing it at Emily who immediately backed away in shock.

“Whoa,whoa-whoa- Mike! Calm down!” Sam tried to intervene but Mike pushed her away, his arm pulling you behind him protectively as his other hand kept pointing the gun at Emily.

“You’re gonna shoot me?” Emily crawled on top of the table until her back hit the wall, desperately trying to get away from the situation. “Mike...? Me?”

“This is the safe room, Em. And it’s not safe as long as you’re in it. Not for us!”

“Don- don’t do this!” Her voice broke on the last word, her hands reaching out as if she could somehow stop him.

“I’m really sorry” Mike choked out, his voice trembling with regret, the words barely escaping through a veil of anguish. His hands shook as he gripped the weapon, his heart pounding in his chest as he took a step forward. His finger pressed the revolver’s cylinder, rotating it to prepare the next shot.

Tell Mike Not to Shoot Emily. She's still Emily, still herself... isn't she? The fear is there, yes, but a part of you knows this isn't right.

Support Mike no matter what he chooses. The thought of Emily becoming one of those things, of putting Mike in danger, fills you with a dread so deep it nearly leaves you breathless.

Your heart pounded as memories surged through your mind, vivid and relentless of the wendigo’s claws tearing through your body as it dragged you into the unknown. You remembered the helplessness, the horror, the feeling of being trapped in a nightmare you couldn't escape.

Now, the thought of Mike facing anything remotely close to that horror because of a single hesitation sent fear clawing at your chest. You wanted to believe Emily; she was one of you, someone you'd shared memories with. But what if she did turn? What if Mike's hesitation meant losing him?

Support Mike

You lean closer, your voice soft, trembling, barely a whisper. “I trust you, Mike. Whatever you think is best... I'll stand by you."

A subtle shimmer appears, almost like a faint trick of light, the beat of butterfly wings sending ripples into the unknown.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Your words seemed to reach him, settling into something deep inside. The fear in his eyes hardened into something resolute. He was reminded of the bruises on your face, the cuts on your skin, the exhaustion in your frame as you spoke softly at him. You were still recovering, still weak from the encounter. In the state you were in, you wouldn't be able to defend yourself if she turned into one of those things.

He can't let her be a threat.

The shot rings out, sharp and final, echoing through the room. The bullet made contact with her left eye, ending her life on spot and smearing the wall behind her with blood.

“Oh, shit... oh, shit... oh, shit. What the fuck did i just do?” Mike lets the gun fall from his hands, his expression haunted, his eyes flicking to you.

You reach for his hand, gripping it tightly.

“You’re safe... you guys are safe. I had to do it” he looked around, searching for reassurance, for some sign that he did the right thing.

Ashley backs away, shocked and terrified to look at him despite being the one ready from the start to make Emily leave the room.

“I’m going to get the keys from Josh. I’ll... I'll come back here.” He began to back away “you guys are safe... it’s over...” he let go of your hand, looking at you desperately one last time before turning away.

You watched him go with a worried expression. Sam came close to you, her hand resting on your shoulder as she looked with you where Mike went to get what was needed to let you escape this nightmare of a place.

From behind, you heard Ashley panicking again as she mumbled under her breath. She was sitting on the opposite side of a table reading what you assumed to be the diary of the stranger

“What? What does it say?” You and Sam stepped forward together until you were right next to her.

“It says... well... if it bites you it’s not infectious. It doesn’t do anything”

Sam took the book in her hands, looking briefly at Emily’s dead body and whispering her name softly. A tear about to spill from her eyes.

You peeked over Sam’s shoulder as she read the last page pf the diary. It talked about all the wendigos trapped inside the sanatorium.

Mike was going to fall right into a trap.

“We need to get to Mike” Sam said firmly, tossing the book aside as you and her made your way to Mike.

The dim, echoing tunnels of the mine stretch before you, the air is thick with dust and the faint metallic tang of rust. Mike is beside you, keeping close, his eyes darting around as if searching for any sign of danger, while Sam moves slightly behind you, her flashlight casting shadows that flicker and dance against the rock.

A small lake was blocking your path. The frigid water sending a chill just from looking at it.

"Guess we don't have much of a choice," Sam murmurs, voice tight.

You nod, sharing a glance with Mike, whose gaze is steady but filled with the same dread. Together, you step into the water, the cold biting instantly as it soaks through your clothes. It seeps up your legs, then higher, numbing everything it touches. By the time the water reaches your waist, your muscles are tense, your breaths sharp and shuddering from the sheer chill.

You could help but mutter something about how you were freezing your ass, teeth chattering as you trudge forward and earning a small chuckle from Sam, suffering as well from the extreme low temperature of the water.

A solid surface came ahead and you all got up from there.

Sam spots something on the ground and in the glow of her flashlight, you see a small, battered notebook, its cover dusty and worn but unmistakably familiar. It's Hannah's diary, you recognized her handwriting.

The three of you huddle close, drawn in by the painful intimacy of her words. The cold, the hunger and the maddening isolation as she struggled to survive in the mines with a broken leg. She stayed here for around a month.

“Oh god... it makes sense. I think... Hannah dug up Beth. It was Hannah. Beth died in the fall- so Hannah must have buried her“ Sam pieced everything together”

“God-dammit” Mike muttered in disbelief.

“She would have been starving... she would have been desperate-“

The implication of what it meant twisted your stomach, bringing back flashes of the memory from that night. You feel the cold seep through your skin, but it's not the chill of the mines.

It's the haunting weight of regret.

Mike's voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone gentle. "Hey... you okay?" He's watching you, his gaze filled with concern.

Lie. You could brush it off, tell them it's just the cold getting to you. It would be easy, just a few words to keep the truth hidden, to protect yourself from the shame that threatens to overwhelm you. But the guilt would stay buried, festering, a constant reminder of what you did and chose to keep hidden.

Confess. You could let it out, finally release the burden you've been carrying. Admit that you saw Hannah that night, that you knew about the prank but chose not to warn her. This choice would mean exposing yourself but it might also allow you to find a sense of forgiveness. A chance for honesty and maybe a path toward healing.

The truth gnaws at you, clawing its way to the surface, refusing to stay buried. You can't keep it hidden any longer.

Confess

Taking a shaky breath, you look at Mike and Sam, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you. I saw Hannah that night. Right before... everything. She asked me if I knew where Mike was and I didn't tell her about the prank." Your voice cracks, raw with the pain of holding back the truth. "I could've warned her and stopped it. This is all my fault."

The silence stretches as your confession hangs in the cold air. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your chest tightening as the weight of it crashes over you.

Mike's hand tightens on your shoulder and he looks at you with a softness that you didn't expect. "This isn't all on you. I shouldn't have gone along with the prank in the first place." His voice is laced with regret. "If anyone's to blame, it's me."

Sam's hand finds yours, squeezing gently. "You made a mistake but we all did. I should have found her faster. I should have insisted more on stopping that prank. None of us were perfect that night."

Her words are like a balm, gentle but unwavering, her empathy wrapping around you as she holds your gaze. The three of you share a moment of quiet solidarity, bound together by the shared regret.

You all continue moving through the mines. Mike's hand brushes against yours as you move inside the water.

"So... you were jealous?" His tone is playful, laced with his usual teasing, as if trying to lighten the atmosphere.

You roll your eyes, feeling the corner of your lips curve upward. "It was like a year ago, alright? And yeah, I was jealous."

Mike grins, his eyebrow quivering as he nudges you gently. "And how long were you crushing on me?" He leans a little closer, his voice dropping to a low, flirtatious murmur.

Sam, walking just behind, groans in mock exasperation and from the cold water. "Could you two get a room already? I really don't need to be the third wheel right now."

"Sorry, Sam." You laugh, feeling the last remnants of tension ease from your shoulders.

Eventually, you could hear Josh mumbling to himself, his eyes wild, his expression a chaotic mix of fear and mania.

"Josh!" Sam calls, her voice gentle but firm. "Josh, it's us."

He doesn't respond, muttering incoherently, his gaze distant, as if lost in a nightmare he can't escape. “He’s tripping or something” Mike muttered to himself before giving him a slap to snap him out of his stupor. "Josh!"

Josh blinks, his gaze slowly refocusing on the three of you, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes. "Don’t h-hit me, p-please-"

“You were deep in it, man. Full metal jacket”

“Josh, Hannah was down there for weeks... a month?! She dug Beth up” she was on the verge of crying and you stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

"We need the keys," you said gently, trying to keep him calm. "The keys to the cable car, do you have them?"

Josh's hand trembles as he digs into his pocket, pulling out the keys and handing them to Sam. She pockets them and glances toward the slope leading up to the surface.

"That's our way out," she says, her voice filled with determination.

Mike shakes his head, glancing at Josh. "He's not going to make it up there. We'll have to go back the way we came."

Sam nods, though her face is etched with worry. She looks at you, assessing your condition with a careful gaze. "Think you can handle the climb? I can help you up if you need."

Mike steps in, his hand brushing your arm as he looks at you. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone soft, but there's a hint of worry in his eyes.

You nod, meeting his gaze with a steady look. "I can handle it. Sam's got my back in case”

He hesitates, his grip tightening on your arm, his gaze flickering with a hint of reluctance. Then, with a soft sigh, he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hand lingering on your cheek as he pulls back, his voice a whisper only you can hear. "Be careful, alright? I want to see that handsome face of yours back at the lodge."

You smile, brushing a hand over his. "You too, Mike. Don't do anything stupid."

He chuckles, the sound soft but tinged with a bittersweet edge. "Stupid? Me? Never." He winks, a smirk playing on his lips, though his gaze holds a flicker of sadness.

He knelt down to help both you and Sam with the first push to start climbing and with one last look, he turns back to Josh, his hand gesturing to the direction to get out of the mines.

You and Sam exchange a determined nod before turning to the steep climb. Every movement is careful and calculated, each foothold chosen with precision as you make your way up.

The climb back to the surface is grueling, every muscle in your body aching, but the sight of moonlight filtering through the cracks above fills you with a surge of determination. Sam pulls herself up beside you, panting but grinning as she looks over at you with a playful gleam in her eye.

"That was just like a climbing class, right?" she quips, giving you a nudge.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, except with a lot more life-or-death stakes," you reply, matching her tone with a smirk.

She lets her hand fall onto your shoulder, her fingers gently squeezing as she takes a moment to study your face. “You did good,” she says, her voice a soothing contrast to the chaos you’d just survived. “Not a single complaint, even when you looked like you were about to pass out.”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her. “Do I really look that bad?” you ask, the question coming out more tired than you’d intended. The last time you saw your reflection was before you were dragged away from Mike, leaving your body feeling like it had been run through a blender. You knew there were cuts, scrapes, and bruises all over your body. The left side of your cheek throbbed painfully whenever you touched it and you could feel the stickiness of dried blood against your lips.

She gives you a small, teasing smile, a spark of humor glinting in her eyes. “Nah,” she says, her voice light but sincere. “It makes you look tough. I can guarantee you, Mike would approve of me without hesitation.”

A tired smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Despite the exhaustion in your bones and the tremble in your legs, you can’t help but feel a small spark of gratitude for her presence, appreciating her support as the two of you move forward and towards the lodge.

A bone-chilling scream pierces the air from behind you. You can feel the presence of something behind you, its screeches growing louder.

The two of you bolt toward the lodge, every step pounding with adrenaline without looking back until you reach the lodge. You pound on the door with both fists, your heart hammering as you shout for someone inside to let you in. You feel the tremor in your hands, the knowledge that every second spent outside is a second closer to whatever horror is chasing you.

Then, a figure from behind calls for your name.

Mike.

Relief floods through you as he steps forward, grabbing you in a fierce hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breaths shallow and shaky as he presses his face against your shoulder and allows himself to rest for just a second.

Sam picks up a rock, smashing it against the window of the door to unlock it. With a final glance behind, the three of you slip inside.

“And Josh?” Your voice suddenly small, a tremor running through it as you glance at him.

He lowers his gaze. It’s a look that sends an icy chill through you, the kind of look that makes your stomach twist in dread. “It got him”

Your breath catches, you feel sick to your stomach, cold in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature around you.

Sam’s shoulders sag, her face twisting with anguish as she drops her eyes to the ground. ”Ohh, god, what an awful way to go...” she mutters, her voice thick with disbelief and grief.

“What do you think we should do now?”

“We should check the basement, might be someone left down there”

Descending down the stairs to the basement, the only thought passing inside your mind was that there was no time to mourn yet. Help will soon be on the way. You just have to survive just a bit longer.

The door of the basement cracks open and three wendigos are there. Their emaciated bodies twisted and contorted, creeping forward with a surprising speed.

Ashley was no longer there.

Mike takes hold of your hand and with Sam behind, you all backtrack to the main lobby. Mike suddenly halts and tugs harshly at your arm to block you in the track.

"Don't move. Don’t fucking move muscle." His voice a hoarse whisper.

Your heart pounds as you follow his gaze and that's when you see it. A wendigo, tall and twisted, perched on the wooden chandelier above. You caught a glimpse of the butterfly tattoo on its arm. This was Hannah. She was no longer recognizable, skin stretched taut over skeletal limbs, her hollow eyes scanning the room with a terrifying intensity.

𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓂ℴ𝓋ℯ

Fear grips you, cold and unrelenting, as you force yourself to stay still. You can feel every tremor in your muscles, the effort it takes to control your breathing, to keep from trembling as the creature shifts, her claws scraping against the wood.

The wendigos from the basement emerge to the main lobby. One of them lunges at Hannah, and in a flash of brutality, she catches it’s leg and throws it first against the wooden stairs and then against the chimney, causing one of the gas pipes to break. Another one attacks her from upstairs but despite the height advantage her claws successfully sink into its neck and decapitate it with little effort.

Your eyes flick to Mike, his face drawn tight with focus as he inches toward the lightbulb switch while keeping an eye on the distracted wendigo.

Then you see the last wendigo from the basement perched on the wooden railing near you, its blind eyes scanning and it's facing Mike. Every step he is making is putting him in danger.

Save Mike. Do anything in your power to distract the monster from him. Anything to protect Mike, even if it means putting yourself in danger.

Run. Save yourself. The path is clear. No wendigos are paying attention to you. Just a quick turn around, a chance to escape. You could save yourse—

Save Mike

You raise your foot and press it down onto the floor, letting it creak just enough to attract the wendigo's attention. The creature snaps its head towards you, the hollow gaze empty and yet focused, its twisted limbs twitching as it crawls toward you, its movements disturbingly animalistic.

𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓂ℴ𝓋ℯ

The wendigo creeps closer, its body contorted, moving on all fours with a disturbing grace, each shift of its limbs slow and deliberate, its clawed hands digging into the wooden floor. You can see its sunken eyes, the stretched skin pulled tight over a jaw filled with teeth too sharp, too numerous.

Just as it seems to lose interest, it shifts, turning toward the stairs, drawn by a new sound. Hannah’s form looming over it as her hollow gaze fixes on it, ready to fight.

You see Sam from the corner of your eye, moving silently toward the door, hiding behind the remnants of overturned furniture. Hannah close in on her hiding spot, her bodies coiled with an unnatural tension, ready to strike.

Your heart pounds in your chest, its frantic rhythm deafening in your ears as your body locks in place, paralyzed by terror.

Mike has backed away and reached your position. His hand slips into yours, his grip firm as he starts to pull you toward the door. His gaze remains fixed on the wendigos, unwavering, every muscle in his body tense with vigilance. His attention flickers only briefly to Sam, a silent worry in his eyes matching yours.

Just as you're inches from the door, Sam's scream cuts through the silence. Your blood freezes. Panic surges through you as you turn around.

Hannah’s grotesque hand shoots out, grasping Sam's face and yanking her up in the air as she struggles to break free. In one brutal, swift motion, Hannah's arm pierces Sam's body, tearing through her.

Her scream pierced the air, and then... silence. Sam's body goes slack, her eyes glazing over as the light fades from them. Hannah lets her crumple to the floor, lifeless.

Tears burn in your eyes, blurring your vision as your breath comes in ragged gasps. You clutch Mike's hand harder, your fingers digging into his skin, as the crushing weight of Sam's death settles over you, the weight of loss heavy on your heart. You feel Mike's hand squeezing yours back, his body tensed beside you but his face filled with grief and helplessness.

The two wendigos turn, their hollow eyes finding you and Mike, and they begin to move, their twisted limbs carrying them forward with terrifying speed.

"I'm sorry, Hannah," you whisper as your gaze locks onto Hannah's, the words slipping out, soft but filled with regret at what you did to her.

Mike steps forward as he reaches for the light switch. The moment he flicks it, a spark ignites, and the room erupts in a blinding explosion. The force sends you and Mike flying backward, his arms wrapping around you protectively as the two of you crash to the ground, the shockwave rattling through your bones as the lodge goes up in flames.

You lie there on top of Mike, the world spinning as the roaring fire consumes what remains of the lodge.

In the distance, you hear the faint whir of helicopter blades, the sound growing louder, accompanied by a voice echoing through the smoke. "We've got survivors."

The harsh fluorescent lights overhead cast a sterile glow in the police station room, making everything feel painfully real.

The officer across from you studies you with a quiet intensity, his face neutral, but his eyes carry a weight that tells you he knows he's about to hear something he won't easily forget.

“I... I was grabbed and dragged through the woods. I thought I wouldn't make it, but then this man showed up. He had a flamethrower... he saved my life and he... he died trying to save a friend of mine” You recount everything, the words spilling out in uneven breaths as you described the twisted nightmare that unfolded in the mountains.

When you finish, the silence stretches out, heavy and unnerving, until the officer leans forward, his gaze intense.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss," he says, his tone carefully measured. "We recovered multiple bodies from the lodge after the explosion. One is severely burned, difficult to identify, but we believe it was one of your friends." He pauses, watching your reaction. "From what we could determine, she was shot."

The words sink in, your stomach twisting as you realize he's talking about Emily.

The officer's gaze sharpens, his voice low but probing. "Your boyfriend already told one of my colleagues what happened, but... I want to hear it from you. Can you tell me why he did it?"

His question hangs in the air, pressing down on you with a weight that's almost suffocating.

Tell the truth. You could tell the officer everything, lay bare the paranoia and fear that drove you all, admit that Mike had acted out of a desperation to protect all of you, even at the cost of a friend. This would leave Mike exposed, vulnerable to judgment and consequences that he might not deserve.

Protect Mike with a half-truth. You could bend the truth just enough to shield him, craft a version that holds the essence of what happened but protects him from the harshest scrutiny. You could tell the officer that Emily was on the verge of turning, and that Mike's decision was one made in self-defense for everyone. After all, Mike had no clue the bite wasn’t infectious. This would keep Mike safe.

You think of Mike, his face as he'd held the gun, the determination and anguish mingling as he made the choice to protect all of you. The quiet nights, the endless texts that bridged the miles between you when life pulls you in different directions. The inside jokes that only the two of you understood, the late-night conversations. You remember the way he’d stood by you through everything. The way he would always try to make you smile when you were having a bad day, the sound of his voice calling your name in a crowd, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered. The memory of him chasing after you through the woods risking everything to save you.

Protect Mike

"There were other... things in that lodge, things that weren't human. I don't know if you've recovered them yet, but I'm sure you'll find them."

The officer's brow furrows slightly, as if considering the implications of your words. "We... found some burned bodies in the lodge. They were deformed, impossible to identify." His words trail off, as though he's reluctant to admit what he's seen.

You steady yourself, forcing your voice into a calm, controlled tone as you look back at the officer. "Emily was infected. She was about to turn into one of those things. Mike acted in self-defense for all of us, he was trying to protect us." The officer's face remains impassive, though you see a flicker of skepticism in his eyes.

You lean forward, pulling the crumpled photo from your pocket, the one the stranger had given you of the man twisted by the wendigo curse, the monstrous transformation captured in horrifying detail. You hand it to the officer, your hand trembling as you do.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"These... things aren't human. It wasn't her anymore. Mike did his best at saving us."

The officer studies the photograph, his expression shifting from skepticism to something darker, more troubled. He nods slowly, his gaze flicking back to you, and there's a note of respect in his tone as he speaks. "We'll look into it. Thank you for sharing this. We’ll keep it in mind for the investigation." He slips the photo into his folder, his expression thoughtful as he regards you one last time.

You hesitate, your voice soft but filled with a quiet desperation. "Could I see Mike?"

The officer studies you for a long moment, taking in the bruises on your skin, the exhaustion etched into every line of your face, and the pleading look in your eyes. He sighs, standing up and nodding toward the door. "Come with me."

You follow him through the narrow hallway, your heart pounding with every step as you finally catch sight of Mike, seated outside another interview room, his head bowed, hands clutched together. The exhaustion on his face is evident but the moment he sees you, his face transforms, relief flooding over him like a wave.

You barely have time to process before he's standing, crossing the short distance to you in a few strides and wrapping his arms around you in a fierce embrace. His grip is tight, his body trembling as he pulls you close, his breath hitching as he presses his face into your shoulder.

"It's over now," you whisper, voice barely audible as you press closer. "We're safe. It's finally over."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with fierce determination. He’ll never let anything happen to you ever again.

The two of you sit together in silence, your hands intertwined, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gentle, steady rhythm. You can barely bring yourself to look at him, feeling the guilt gnaw at you. All of your friends died and it was your fault

His arms then pull you in closer and you lean into him, not saying anything because no words seem to make the guilt any lighter. But, in that moment, with his arms around you, there’s a strange sense of relief. No matter what happens next, at least you’re not alone.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

I really love all the characters in this game, and honestly, it was painful to write their deaths. But I wanted to try something different this time. I hope it didn’t make the story less enjoyable to read—it wasn’t my intention at all. If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

can you do mike schmidt x reader with abby trick-or-treating?

NOTE: This takes place after the movie

........

"Come on, slowpokes! Keep up!"

"Abby, don't go too far!"

"Relax, Mikey. She's just going two houses over. There's other kids already there. See?" You calmly pointed out the decorated home that Abby was rushing towards, disappearing into the crowd of kids who complimented her costume.

She was dressed as her "friend": a yellow version of Freddy Fazbear complete with a mask she painted, a yellow undershirt, and a black vest that was a tad bit too big for her.

Curiously enough, she removed one ear from the mask and covered one eye with black paint. But it didn't bother either of you too much, thinking she wanted to do something unique and creative with her costume.

Considering everything that happened at Freddy's Pizzeria, you were surprised that she wanted to dress up as one of the characters at all.

Yet neither you nor Mike recall ever seeing a "Golden Freddy". Not even backstage.

But you did, however, meet a golden Bonnie...and the person wearing his suit was none other than the bastard who murdered those poor children, including Garrett.

You just hoped their souls were finally at peace now, and that William rotted away in that suit, never to be found again. It was a rather fitting punishment--the perfect karma someone as sadistic as him.

Sometime later, you started dating Mike after you both officially quit that job, found something new to save his home from eviction, and helped him regain custody over his sister (Doug was more than eager to write you both off as her legal guardians).

He still had his nightmares, of course, that now involved visions of a decayed Springbonnie suit chasing him through that same forest. But you were always there to wake him up, cuddling together and helping him fall back to sleep without needing to down a bunch of pills.

He's genuinely been trying to depend on them less and less. Abby notices it, too, and has incorporated you in her drawings now, standing beside her happy-looking brother.

It's her own way of saying "thank you", and you accept it wholeheartedly.

When Halloween rolled around, you and Mike got too work decorating the house, surprising his sister after you picked her up from school. She did mention how he used to do the "bare minimum" before you came along.

And by that, she meant that Mike only ever put a jack o'lantern outside, a bowl filled with cheap candy, and a sign that said "take one".

Well this year...you made sure to buy better candy bars for the kids this year and add the finishing touches to the outside of the house. After that, you both took her trick-or-treating.

While she was occupied at the current house, you and Mike stood back to admire all the decorations and other costumes people were wearing.

"I honestly thought that whole near-death experience with the robots would've scarred her for life, but...she's been doing better." He remarked. "A lot better. It's like nothing ever happened."

"Well..she did help those kids find justice. They never knew their killer was standing right in front of them..they just needed that little push to finally recognize him."

"I'm surprised she hasn't told the whole story to her teacher yet."

"...because she knows we'd probably get some phone calls about that." You chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand.

Then you noticed Abby leaving the house, running down the steps and about to cross the street to reunite with you-

"Hey, hey, hey." Mike let you go to put both hands out, and she stopped in her tracks, mere inches from the road. "What did we talk about before we left the house, Abs?"

"...look both ways before I cross the street?"

"Exactly."

Huffing, she quickly glanced to her left and right, deeming it safe to cross. And only then did she resume her sprint, removing her mask once she was in front of you. "[Y/n], look at all these chocolate bars I got so far!"

You looked into the pillowcase, nodding in agreement. "Wow, you did get a lot! I sure can't wait to gobble them all up when we get home." A coy smirk appeared on your lips, watching her eyes widen in shock.

"Nooooooo, they're mine!" Protectively holding the sweets to her chest, she pouted and looked to Mike for help, yet he simply shrugged.

"I dunno, Abby.." It was hard for him to hide his own smile. "[Y/n] and I gotta make sure they're safe to eat, so we're gonna take one bite of every single bar-"

"Now that's just cruel!" She stomped her foot.

"We're only joking, sweetie." With a chuckle, you ruffled her hair, watching as she put her mask back on. "I think the next street over has a little haunted house maze. Do you wanna go check it out?"

She perked up and nodded in response, heading down the sidewalk with a spring in her step. You linked arms with Mike and followed her, looking around at the rest of the decorations.

But your eyes soon lingered on your boyfriend's soft brown ones, and he gazed back at you for a few moments. "What?"

"Nothing." You shook your head, smiling lightly. "I'm just...glad to be with you."

"So am I." He kissed you on the cheek. "Thank you, truly..Abby deserves a good Halloween."

"I think we all deserve a good one."

Unbeknownst to the three of you, there was a peculiar figure standing across the way. He was hanging out near the trees, almost perfectly blending in with the surrounding darkness so that nobody else could notice him:

A large mechanical bear with dirty yellow fur, one ear, and one glowing blue eye, smiling fondly at Abby and her costume.

It's good to see that she had not forgotten.

[lauren-likes-to-type]

I Adore You

[Five Nights at Freddy's] Vanessa Shelly x Female Reader

Summary: She loves everything you do, even if you aren't aware of it.

Word Count: 2.40k Content Warnings: Oblivious reader, brief mentions of anxiety Category: Heavy Fluff || One-shot

[A/N]: Not proofread. Requests are currently being worked on.

Enjoy!

It seemed as though people were chatting away and snickering at you each time you were with Vanessa. You couldn’t understand why. She was your best friend, and you were just hanging out together. What could be so funny about that? Out on walks at the park, a group of girls would lean over to whisper to each other when you and Vanessa passed. When shopping at the mall or the local grocery store, the customers nearby and the clerks seemed to gossip about the two of you with teasing grins on their faces. Even when you would just go out to eat somewhere, it seemed as though the people who noticed the two of you together were talking about you.

What was so interesting about two people hanging out? Why weren’t they gossipping about other people nearby instead? You couldn’t wrap your head around it no matter how long you thought about the constant glances and hushed words. At first, you had thought it was just a coincidence that you and Vanessa were singled out, but as it happened more and more, you started to wonder if it was something about you. There was no way they could be making fun of Vanessa. Even so, looking down at yourself each time and taking note of your appearance, you had no idea what was being discussed so quietly.

The one place, aside from home, where you could escape the chatter was the Diner that Mike worked at with the animatronics. There, with Mike and Abby to keep you company, you could relax and just spark up a normal conversation with Vanessa without worrying about judgemental glares focused directly on you.

However, it seemed that as of recently you had no escape anymore aside from home. Mike, and even Abby herself, were constantly smirking knowingly whenever you and Vanessa would sit down and speak about your days. You couldn’t figure out why, and it was really starting to get under your skin. Surely there was something that you weren’t seeing. That had to be it.

You had to figure it out. It was driving you insane.

As you sat at one of the dusty tables lining the floor of Fazbear’s Family Diner, your eyes trailed over the shapes etched into the party-themed fabric across the wooden top of the surface in front of you. Each small movement of your eyes symbolized a new thought being formed as you desperately wracked your brain to develop an understanding of the gossip.

When a hand came down to squeeze your shoulder and pull you out of your trance, you jumped and twirled in your seat to see who had disturbed you. “You doing okay?” Mike questioned quietly beside you.

Your mind seemed to falter in processing his words, and you only stared up at him for a moment because of it, prompting him to stare down at you in concern. Quickly, after catching a glimpse of Abby wandering nearby, you nodded. The last thing you wanted was to worry Abby as well. As Mike took a seat beside you, his worried expression shifted into a teasing smirk. “Thinking about Vanessa, huh?” For a reason you couldn’t pinpoint, your face flustered at his words.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Well, I just…” You paused, gaze returning to the table as you struggled to form the right words. “People seem to keep laughing and gossipping about Vanessa and I whenever we hang out, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s because of me.”

“Are you serious? Of course it’s because of you.”

You scoffed, swatting his arm. “Mike!” He laughed at the motion and leaned back before you could smack him again. “What?” “Are you kidding? What do you mean “what?” You didn’t have to be that blunt about it!” He chuckled again and shook his head. “Sorry, but it’s true. It’s not because you did anything, it's more so because you aren’t doing anything.”

Brows furrowed and features contorted from confusion, you glared at him. “Huh? What do you mean I’m not doing anything? What the hell am I supposed to be doing? We’re just hanging out when that happens, it’s nothing special.” At your words, he rolled his eyes. “Maybe not to you, but it’s pretty clear that Vanessa feels the opposite.”

He was met with silence. You could only continue to peer over at him as you tried your hardest to grasp his words and what they meant. “God, you really are clueless. Holy shit. Do you seriously not see the way she looks at you or notice the way she talks to you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that lovestruck before. Kinda thought you were just playing hard-to-get with her for a while, but I guess you really are just that dense.”

Again, your knuckles met his shoulder in offense. “What the hell, man? She doesn’t like me like that. Even if she did, that wouldn’t explain why people are being so weird around us.” “Yeah, it does, actually.” “Huh?” The pads of his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed. “You genuinely haven’t noticed how she acts around you?”

When he managed to look back up at you, it was clear your attention wasn’t fully on him anymore. He followed your eyes and turned around. Vanessa had walked in through the front door and immediately took notice of you. She beamed ear to ear and waved, and Mike didn’t even have to look back over at you to know you were smiling just as widely. He could hear the rustle of your sleeve as you waved back.

Before the grinning officer could trail over to you, Abby ran up to her and bounced for a bit before taking her hand and pulling her over towards the stage. There, she had Vanessa sit down with her as she picked up her drawings and began to show them to her. Briefly, Vanessa lifted her head enough to shoot a nervous smile your way before devoting her focus on the artwork being displayed for her.

The corners of Mike’s lips perked up in a small simper. He turned back to you to find you staring at the two. Instantly, he knew your eyes were fixated more on Vanessa.

Playfully, he nudged your arm. You finally turned around to face him. You whispered as softly as you could manage when you spoke again. “How would the way she’s acting around me affect the reactions we get from other people?” “Because she bends over backwards just to make you smile. Haven’t you noticed the amount of gifts she’s given you? Even if you haven’t, surely you know how she looks at you.”

“Looks at me?”

“She’s staring at you all the time, and she’s always got this weird, like, dorky grin when she does. It’s not hard to tell that she likes you.”

“I already know she likes me, Mike.”

“But do you know that she loves you?”

Your skin burned at the question. Instinctively, your hands flew up to cover your face in embarrassment. “There’s no way she loves me like that, Mike. No way at all. Don’t lie to me like that.” He groaned and bumped your shoulder again. “C’mon, just acknowledge it already. It’s not like she’s being very subtle about it. Are you really that oblivious?” You stayed silent. “Just think back on the past couple of months, would you? Anything she’s done for you or with you.” As if your mind wasn’t already racing fast enough, his suggestion only accelerated your thoughts.

Shit, he was right.

All the small presents she would drop off for you or hand to you each time you spent time together, with her small smiles as she explained how she thought of you when she saw whatever it was she had gifted to you.

How each day she had off from work would be spent together, and she would assure you that you were the only person she wanted to be with on those days off.

Every time she’d invite you to a nearby cafe or just to go out on a walk together and talk about whatever came to mind.

The soft, comforting touches when she tried to get your attention, or the firm hugs when you needed it, or the gentle jokes passed between the two of you whenever you were alone watching movies and eating the snacks she had bought specifically for the occasion.

The look in her eyes resembling someone so smitten anytime she so much as glanced in your direction.

Had she really been that obvious about everything? Were you really that blind to the meaning of her actions and words? If Mike’s words were true, that meant that everyone you had worried about in the previous months were all aware of it too, and you were the only one who had no idea. You grimaced at the idea of possibly upsetting Vanessa with how ignorant you had been. What if she thought you didn’t feel the same way?

You glanced over at her from your spot at the table. She looked so beautiful as she smiled and chuckled at whatever joke Abby had made. How had you not noticed how incredibly she had treated you?

“Why don’t you go tell her how you feel?” Mike asked gently beside you. You turned to him, muscles tense from unease. “I don’t know. What if I waited too long? What if she doesn’t actually feel that way about me anymore?” A quick shake of his head seemed to help settle your nerves just enough to look over at Vanessa again. “No way she doesn’t feel as strongly about you as she always has. Just go talk to her, okay?”

You weren’t sure if you could do it, but you stood without thinking regardless. A glance in his direction combined with his nodding aided your ability to suck in a sharp breath in an attempt to steel your nerves. Eyes glued to the floor beneath you, you meandered forward shakily until you stood beside Vanessa and Abby. The two looked up at you curiously, and you caught the way Vanessa’s eyes immediately lit up at the sight of you.

“Hey, uh,” you started, clearing your throat at the sound of your voice breaking. “Can I ask you something?” The officer nodded and slowly stood. “Is everything okay?” You nodded and tucked your hands behind your back to pick at each other. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just… I have to ask you about something, but I don’t want it to sound weird.”

“Go ahead. I promise I won’t get upset.”

“Do you like me? Like, romantically?”

The space between the two of you seemed to fall completely silent. Vanessa’s face seemed to fluster as badly as yours and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Oh,” she whispered.

“Well, I–”

“I thought that was obvious,” Abby blurted, still seated on the ground.

Vanessa laughed when you covered your face and gently took your hands into her own. “Abby,” Mike called from across the room. “Come over here for a minute, okay?” The little girl stood from her spot on the floor and skipped over to her older brother without paying any mind to how sheepish she had made you. When a sigh slipped past your lips, Vanessa shrugged. “I really did think I was being obvious about it. Honestly, I thought I was coming on too strong. Apparently not.”

You slid your hands out from hers and hugged your arms tightly, eyes averting in embarrassment at her words. “I just,” you murmured briefly before sighing. “I didn’t know. I thought you were just being really nice to me for no reason.”

“I mean, kind of, but it was mainly because I was too nervous to just ask you out. I was hoping you would get the hint and it would make it easier. Guess I should’ve upped the ante, huh?” Just as you had done to Mike, you swatted Vanessa’s arm gently and huffed, to which she chuckled at.

You waited a moment before peeking up at her. “Do you really like me that way?” She nodded with a wide smile painted across her lips. “I do. I really do. I adore every single part of you, good and bad. In fact, could you wait here for just a moment? I’ve got something out in my car for you.” You could only nod, barely registering anything past the confirmation of her confession.

Her hand patted your arm softly before she jogged toward the entrance and out through the large glass door. Only a moment later, she returned to her previous spot in front of you, now carrying a large bouquet of roses. She let her arm extend outwards to you and she waited for you to take the gift from her. “I was actually planning on confessing to you tonight after we were all ready to head home, but you kinda beat me to it. I guess I should honestly be thanking you for making it easier on me,” she explained with a timid laugh.

As you took the bouquet from her hand, she scratched the back of her neck. “So,” she murmured. “Do you… feel the same way?” Using the flowers as a makeshift shield, you hid part of your face as you whispered out a soft “yes” in response. A sigh fell from her lips as her tensed body finally relaxed. “Oh, thank god.” She stepped forward and took hold of your free hand. A quick tug in her direction caused you to practically fall into her embrace, and she held you close, her hold on you strong and comforting.

“I love you so much,” she finally confessed. It took a moment for the words to fully process themselves into your brain, but you ultimately hummed and returned the hug, unable to bite back your smile. “I love you too.”

When she leaned back, she cupped your face in her hands and let the pads of her thumbs stroke soothingly over your skin. She leaned forward and pressed a swift peck against your nose and then your forehead. Briefly, her lips met yours before she pulled back again.

“I hope you know I’m going to spoil the hell out of you.”

She smiled gleefully when you eagerly tugged her back into the kiss.

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 10: Repentance

Yeah, you're right, I saved the best gif of him for this chapter. Just to remind everyone, this is not the last chapter!! I'll be posting the epilogue tomorrow, so stay tuned!!! And just a warning that it will be worth it (I mean, you've waited since chapter 5 or something for some more sexy times, right?) Anyways, hope you've enjoyed the story so far, and let me know if you want something else as well. My requests are open! <3

“I mean, I saw that thing from a distance” I start, walking behind Mike. “But it was so incredibly disgusting. The teeth, the skin, everything.”

“Like, I know I’m supposed to love every living thing on this earth, but can that thing be an exception?” Sam asks, and I giggle. 

“Oh yeah, you should’ve seen everyone I saw. They were all different from each other, I mean, they all tried to kill me, but they looked like different people. You know that mining accident I told you about?”

We both nod in unison. 

“The miners that survived resorted to cannibalism, and when they got treated at the Sanatorium, they attacked staff and killed people. I saw a video, medical journals and other stuff. It’s insane.” 

“So there’s more of them?” Sam asks, stopping in her tracks. 

“The one that took Josh, it was bigger than the one we just saw” I comment, getting a sinking feeling in my stomach. 

“So we are up against several of those things?”

“Seems like it” Mike answers, lifting his shoulders and starts walking again. 

“Fucking hell”

I start thinking about the one that took Josh. Something seemed so familiar about it. 

“Don’t know how we didn’t run into any of them last year.” Mike says. 

“Probably purely coincidences that we haven’t, like Chris says, butterfly effects and stuff” Sam wonders, keeping her sight on the path so she doesn’t stumble. The cave inn, how long ago was that?

“Wait, so how old is that thing?” I ask, thinking I’m messing with the wrong numbers. 

“80 years at least” Mike says. 

“Shit”

“I know”

“Spunky for an old timer”

We arrive at a big cave lake, and I look down, checking out the water. 

“I think we’re close” Sam says. 

“How can you tell?”

“I just feel terrible all of a sudden” 

“I get that” 

I touch it with my fingers, surprised by the cold. There’s something odd about it. 

“I don’t want to go in there” Sam exclaims. 

“Seems like there’s no other way through” I comment, looking around. 

“What about there?”

I look over, seeing a path go beside the water. I stand up, walking there with the others. The path is surrounded by water, so there’s no other way for us to continue. I look over the lake, seeing a door on the other side. I think we have to go in it. 

“Oh my god, is that what I think it is?” I hear Sam, turning around I see a large dig up hole. Awfully similar to a grave. Shit. 

“That looks like a grave…” Mike whispers, a bit stunned. Sam walks closer, picking up something laying in the dirt. 

“Fuck, this is Beths!”

“What?” I walk to her, seeing the watch in her hands, with Beth’s name engraved on the back of it. “This is her watch!” 

“What?” Mike repeats, sounding unconvinced. He looks at it, eyes wide in realisation. 

“There was a cross here” I whimper, breath caught in my throat, pointing to a cross lying upside down. 

“So this must’ve been where she was buried” Mike says. 

“But who dug her up?” I ask, chills crawling down my spine. 

“Let’s keep moving” he says, hand on my shoulder. 

“The faster we get away from this mountain, the better” Sam adds, quickly walking in front of us. We get to the lake again, and I take the first step down. 

“God, I did NOT want to get an UTI from this trip” Sam comments. 

“Or hepatitis” Mike adds. 

“I can promise you, in these types of waters, that’s the least of your worries” I say, water reaching to my torso. 

“Jeez, thank you for calming me”

“Just being honest, I thought you loved that about me?” I tease, trying to ignore the coldness. 

“It’s okay Sam” Mike urges, holding out his hand for her. 

“You sure?”

“We’re not dead yet” I whisper. 

“Famous last words” she says before getting in. “Gosh it’s freezing”

“Just keep moving” Mike says. “Nobody likes cold buns… Although both of yours are great”

“Gee thanks Mike, you’re really lightening the mood” I say sarcastically. 

“Always a pleasure”

We make our way to the side, hoping the water is low enough so we don't have to swim. Sam suddenly trips, water almost reaching her shoulders. 

“Shit, I thought you said you reached the deepest parts?” 

“When did I say that?”

“Umm, I don’t know” 

She drags herself up, giving me a hand so I get out easier. 

“What is that?” I point, noticing some papers laying on the ground. 

“Oh shit” Mike exclaims. “That looks like Hannah’s writing. Sam looks over the pages, reading out loudly the writing for us. 

“I’m sorry Beth, I have no choice. It’s the only way I can survive anymore. If someone finds this, I’m sorry. I had to, I had no choice”

“What does that mean?” Mike asks, breathing heavily and quickly. 

“No, no, no, no, no” I exclaim, the pieces coming together. I look at Sam, she gets it as well. 

“What, what is it?” Mike asks, scared but confused. 

“I think… Hannah dug up Beth”

“No, no, no, no” I keep chanting to myself, feeling sick to my stomach. 

“It was Hannah!”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief, but I know he just doesn’t want to believe it. 

“No, that’s - that’s ridiculous” 

“It has to be, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Think about it” I continue. “Beth died from the fall, so Hannah buried her… She couldn’t move, god knows how long she’d been down here, and she was probably starving”

“I get it, I get it, please don’t say it out loud” Mike scolds, and I shut up. 

There’s still no direct way to the other side, so we have to go into the water again. This time, we’re all silent. We make our way there, Mike going first, followed by Sam and I beside each other. 

“It’s getting deeper” Mike states. 

“Roger that”

“Oh, no it’s getting better”

“Don’t jinx it”

We get to the other side, easier to get out of the water than before. I look around, feeling eyes on me, but can’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

Sam goes straight for the door, pulling the handle hard. The door flies open, water pouring out, making all of us fall to the ground. A head rolls out, landing right beside me, and I shriek from the sight, pushing myself away. 

“Fuck fuck fuck!” 

Everyone stands up, keeping a distance from it. 

“It’s the old man” I whisper, throat closing. 

“Shit, let’s just go, now!” Sam firmly states, taking my arm and dragging me with her. We go inside, and I hold my hand in front of my mouth when I see the man’s body hanging from hooks in the ceiling. We need to go now, I want to get out of here. 

Mike is standing directly under him, a few drops of blood dripping down on him. He looks up, shining the flashlight. 

“Ugh, I’m gonna be sick” he cries, backing away and turning around. I hear small whimpers come from Sam as she clutches her stomach. My body starts shaking, a combination of coldness, wetness and panic. I don’t want to end up like that, none of us do…

“Wait” Sam stops us. “Do you hear that?” We stay silent, trying to hear whatever she’s alluding to. I try, but the explosion I caused with Chris must’ve damaged something. Mike moves to a wall, telling us to look. I walk over, seeing Josh walking around in circles, clutching his head and talking to himself. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no. I don’t take orders from you!” 

“Josh!” I yell, running to the door, trying to pry it open. Mike shoves in front of me, opening the door with ease and letting me run over. 

“You can’t tell me what to do”

“Josh” I say, my voice barely over a whisper. I try to take his hand, but he seems completely oblivious to my touch. 

“No, no, I told you, you can’t tell me what to do anymore”

Mike and Sam approach, saying his name and trying to get his attention. 

“No, okay fine. I trust you. I trust you” he continues, his eyes seeming like they’re in a completely different place. 

“What’s the matter with him?” Mike asks. 

“He’s tripping or something. Having an episode” I answer, scared and confused. 

“Hit him” Mike says, and I look at him with a ‘wtf’-expression. He pushes past me, lifting his hand and slapping him straight across the face. 

“Mike” I yell, moving my hand to soothe his chin. “Josh!” he screams in his face. 

“M-Mike?” Josh whispers, some of him coming back to the present. He looks down on me, his eyes calming down and breathing steadying. 

“Hi Josh, it’s us, you’re okay”

“Please, d-don’t hit me again” 

“No, no, I would never” I tell him, shooting a glare at Mike. 

“Hey, it worked” he tells me, and I don’t know how to respond. It did work, I would never have done it myself. “He was in deep, full mental jacket”

“We didn’t think we’d get you back” Sam adds. 

“Josh, Hannah was down here for… weeks? A month? She dug Beth up…”

“Sam” I warn. This is not what he needs right now. 

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here” Mike says, already starting to make his way out. 

“Okay, Josh? Do you have the key for the cable car?” I ask, trying to be as calm as possible. 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah, here” he hands it to me. Hands touching. I hold onto him a little longer. His hands are cold and dry, streaks of red covering them. I kiss him on the cheek, thanking him. He looks taken aback, and I don’t know if I went too far too fast, but there’s nothing changing it now. 

“See that over there?” Sam points. “That means a direct way out, come on”

I look up, a long rock wall. I could probably make it, Sam definitely would. 

“There’s no way Josh is making it up there” Mike says, an arm around him. 

“Okay, we split” Sam says. 

“What?” I ask, not wanting to be separated. 

“Two up, and two out from down here” Sam says, and Mike nods. 

“Okay, I’ll take Jos-” I start, but Sam interrupts me. 

“I need you. The wall, we’re the fastest, and the best climbers. Josh is safe with Mike”

“But-”

“No buts” Mike says. “We do it like that, we’ll be quick, I promise”. I sigh in reply, moving forward, putting one of my hands behind Josh’s neck and kissing him. I don’t care that the others are watching, I just need him to know how I’ve felt and how I feel. He kisses me back, hands moving to my waist. 

“I’ve missed you” I whisper, low enough so only he hears it. “When we’re off this mountain, we’ll talk, okay?” I ask, still in a low voice. He nods in reply, a little smile creeping to his lips. 

“We’ll go tell the others that we’re okay” Sam says. 

“Yeah, good” Mike replies. 

“Bring Josh back the way we came and we’ll meet at the lodge” I say firmly. 

“Be careful”

“You too” we both say in unison. Mike gives us both a push before continuing back to where we came from. Josh’s eyes remain on me, and I feel like I left a piece of me. 

We climb up the wall, getting up to the second half. I look up, seeing ice and snow. 

“How do we do that?” I ask, getting shivers already. 

“By having a good grip” she replies, starting to climb. 

“Well, fuck it” I whisper as I do the same. I grab hold of a branch, managing to lift myself up the entire way. We both get up, being met with the snowstorm. 

The path is still visible, and we waste no time walking. We both jog, not too slow, and not too quick. 

“God, it’s cold” Sam complains, and I look over. She’s still wearing the training gear, legs and arms very exposed. 

“Hey, take this” I say, giving her my bloodied scarf. I’m only wearing a sweater, a singlet underneath. There would be no point giving her that. 

“Thanks” 

The path leads to an icy pond, not completely frozen, just the edges. There’s no way around it. 

“Why does it have to be today?” she asks, not expecting an answer. 

“Come on” I tell her, getting into the icy water. I bite my teeth together, never before have I been so cold. I can’t talk, I can barely move. She gets in, and makes exactly the same expression. We have to be quick, both probably suffering from hypothermia already. We walk over, the water getting deeper with each step, but finally, we’re on the other side. I help her up, limbs frozen and red. 

Suddenly, we both hear a horrific scream. The wendigo. It must be close. Fuck. We both start running for our lives, jumping over trees and taking sharp swings. Finally the lodge comes to our vision, and we run for the door. I try to open it, but it’s locked. I start banging, praying that the others will hear me. 

“Let us in!”

“Get it open, get it open!” Sam urges, twitching and shivering behind me. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”

A hand goes on my shoulder, and we turn around to find Mike and Josh standing there, panting and shivering as well. They’re both scratched up and dirty, more than when we left them. 

“Shit, guys” I pant, almost not being able to breathe. 

“You look terrible” Sam says, looking them both up and down. 

“We’re gonna look worse if we stay out here”

I give Sam a determined look, and pick up a rock from the ground. 

“Yeah, good idea” she compliments, arms around herself for a little warmth. I throw the rock through the window, sneaking my hand in and unlocking it from inside. We all run in, closing the door behind us. Sam turns on the light.

“Not good” Mike says as he turns it off again. 

“What should we do?” I ask, nervous and cold. 

“We should check the basement, might be someone left there” Mike replies, walking to the stairs. I take Josh’s hand in mine, and he takes the whole of me into a big hug. I finally feel tears coming, coating his shoulder. 

“I love you” I whisper between sobs, holding him even harder. 

“I love you too” he whispers lovingly, his voice finally sounding sure and true. I pull away, and he dries my tears before I can. I smile, thinking wow, we might actually survive. I hold his hand in mine, leading him down the stairs to the others. When we’re halfway there, we’re met with screams, and Emily, Ashley and Chris running up past us. 

“Run!” Mike yells as he comes towards us. Josh starts moving up the stairs, but I see Sam just standing still, unable to move. I run down, grabbing her arm firmly and dragging her with me. 

“Get it together!” I state as we run up the stairs, immediately coming to a halt. 

The wendigo, the big one who took Josh, is standing on the ornament hanging from the ceiling. Thankfully, I’m right next to Josh, and I look at him in the side vision, telling him not to move. All of us are standing completely still, the wendigo not being able to locate any of us, yet. I hear the others come up from the cellar, running up the stairs and catching the big one’s attention. They all look at each other, before going off, two of them hitting and biting. I hear someone run out the lodge, and I carefully look back, seeing Emily and Ashley taking small steps backwards. I signal to Josh, carefully grabbing the back of his overalls and taking a step back. It works well, the monsters being too occupied to notice any of us. We’re right by the door when I see the big one rip the other’s head off. Mike has been slowly moving, but suddenly, the wendigo sets his mind on him. 

“Hey!” Sam yells, and I struggle to hold my mouth shut. No, no, no. Not Sam, please. I hear the monster yell again, turning away from us. I take my chance, grabbing Josh’s hand and running out. Outside, I find Emily and Chris, both standing beside each other, not making a sound. We make our way over to them, looking inside for the others. Ashley comes running out, getting among us. I see Mike in the opening, waiting for something. Suddenly, he runs toward us, Sam in his heels, who switches the light on, causing the whole lodge to explode in flames. Sam shouts as she’s thrown forward by the explosion, Mike falling, and everyone else being blasted into the snow. I feel hands move around me as I hit the ground. 

A few seconds go by, the sound of burning wood and the smell of rotten flesh fills the area. A light is seen, and we all look up as a helicopter lands.