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[mor-beck-more-problems]

For Everything a Reason || Morgan & Mina

Morgan looks to Mina for help defending herself.

CW: brief mentions of child abuse

Mina had never really trained with anyone that wasn’t a hunter. More often than not, they were stronger and faster than her, and she almost never had an even playing field. She wasn’t allowed to fight in the water, and she wasn’t allowed to use her Fae attributes to help her. And so, she’d actually learned how to fight. She’d learned techniques that gave her advantages, even when the odds were stacked against her. Bigger opponents, stronger opponents, more deadly opponents, she’d learned ways to incopacitate with minimal damage, and she’d technically learned to kill, though that part didn’t come as naturally to her. However, Mina had never learned to train with others, especially not zombies who used to be witches. But, Mina’d also never learned to teach, but it still came to her. She figured she’d approach the situation like she was teaching Morgan a difficult equation: break down the steps, apply the techniques, and then test out the process. She’d invited Morgan to a little field not too far from her house (and from the lake), figuring they’d have plenty of privacy since the place was closed (not that it stopped her from sneaking in). She was wearing her workout gear, a tank top and jogging pants, and a hoodie over the shirt even though it was a bit too hot for it. She’d brought some sparring equipment, a few knives and guns, and a small crossbow, but she figured they’d just focus on the hand to hand. After all, Morgan had all the raw, undead might in the world. She just needed to utilize it.

Thank the stars Mina wanted to work with Morgan outside. She was still shaken by her visit at The Ring, by what had happened to Remmy, that she couldn’t bear to be doing this back in the workout room where they used to practice, or some gym that might remind her of that awful place. And besides, she probably wouldn’t be taken unawares in some old building. Last time it had been out in the woods, and she couldn’t exactly stop taking any kind of walks altogether. She got too restless, being semi to mostly conscious at all hours. She just needed to be safe. She needed something within herself to reach for. What other choices did she have?

She dropped her bag on the ground when she arrived at the spot and came straight over to give Mina a hug. She hadn’t been in a place to be very kind or inquiring with her the last time they’d met in her office. Everything was still hard, still heavy, but blessed Universe, she was glad to see her. “Thank you for doing this with me,” she said. “It’s good to see you, Mina. You sure you’re really doing okay? It’s been a rough time around here.” She realized after squeezing her that she had never touched Mina before in her changed body and that, for all she knew, it was something jarring and awful. She stepped back, her smile gone all stiff. “Sorry,” she added.

It was always a bit unexpected when people hugged Mina. Her dad wasn’t a hugger, and there weren’t many people that had come and gone from her life that wanted to touch her very much. There was one boy, when she was about 13 or 14, that had brushed against her hand and been surprised when her skin felt like skin and not like scales. He hadn’t been a warden, nor had he been particularly smart, looking back on it. However, when Morgan pulled her into a hug, maybe a little too cold and a little too tight, Mina hadn’t known how to respond. It’ was nice, though. “Ah, I mean, I’ve been alright, truly. The mime situation was incredibly--” unnerving “odd, and then there were a couple of people with eyeballs in their hands that chased me and a friend near the lake.” Were she and Skylar friends? She didn’t know what other word to use. “Other than that, though, I’ve mostly been working on school. What about you?” Mina felt a bit of the loss of contact when Morgan pulled away, but she just shook her head and smiled, hoping Morgan knew how sincere she was. “Nothing to apologize for, Morgan, really.”

Mina was just being kind about her touch, Morgan was sure. She didn’t know anyone who didn’t at least want to jump away from the cold. But then again, maybe fae were a little different. She decided to take Mina’s smile at face value--she wanted to be kind, she wanted Morgan to feel welcome and normal. As she took a step back and began to stretch, Morgan couldn’t help but notice the strange marks down Mina’s arms. They were too dark, too straight and even to be part of her skin. They looked like scars. But why were there so many? “Hey…” Morgan dropped out of her stance and nodded towards the markings with concern. “Those don’t look like ‘alright.’ Are they new or--?” Old? Something from her training, or another hunter?

Ah. Mina hadn’t even realized her arms were bare. Perhaps she was a bit too comfortable around Morgan, even knowing what the other woman was. Besides, training usually required short sleeves for more movability. Still. She finished her toe touches and rolled her shoulders before straightening up and rubbing her arms. “Oh, they’re mostly old,” she said. A lot of the ones on her arms were from defense. She’d learned to always protect her head, even at the expense of her extremities. “Training, mostly. And, really, they look worse than they are. Iron. It, ah, heals slower, kind of burns a bit when it happens.” The one where her mime had gotten her on the neck was healing much faster than normal, even though it’d felt like an iron burn, while the one across her stomach from Montgomery still looked raised and angry some days, even months later. She tugged at her ponytail a bit. “We should, ah, get to training, yes? I thought we could start with simple hand-to-hand defense?”

There was something chilling to Morgan about how easily Mina dismissed her injuries. Maybe it was like that for all children reared to be fighters. Violence was more than a possibility, but a fact. It dwelled inside them even when they weren’t engaging in some altercation. And yet...Mina was still young. How old must she have been to sustain so many ‘old’ injuries? To burn a child on purpose, to tell her it was for her own good? Morgan shivered as remnants from Deirdre’s childhood stories floated to the surface of her mind. Had it been Mina’s father, every time? Or did he ask other hunters to do it for him? “How old were you?” She asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Morgan frowned, apologetic. The training. Right.

“Yeah, hand-to-hand is good. I have a couple of weapons, but I’d like to know I can do something without one.” And there was something so distressingly fearful about carrying a knife on her. She didn’t know what it meant, if she was being prudish or precious or if she really was relinquishing something important if she gave in to that impulse. Good thing you don’t have to worry about it right now, she reminded herself. “I know about maintaining a good center of gravity and how to hold a fist, but I’m not sure about much else.” She got into position and held out an arm, fist raised, to show her.

Blinking a bit, Mina tried to remember how old she was when she’d first started her training. Her dad had waited a few years after he took her from her mother. Saved her. Her earliest memories were filled with the sounds of moving water, and then she was kind of sick for a few years as her dad figured out how to raise a kid that wasn’t human. It had been hard on both of them, but he figured it out with the help of some warden he met who told him about nixies and what they needed. That had helped a lot. Then she’d almost drowned a girl at a birthday party, and that was when her dad decided that it was time to start training. Hunter training and human training. It was too bad she’d never really been able to master controlling her shifting abilities. “I was probably about nine the first time we picked up weapons and started working with those,” she said thoughtfully. Compared to some of the hunter children she knew, she’d been a late bloomer.

Mina looked over Morgan’s stance, nodding at how she kept her center of gravity. Her fists were good, but Mina didn’t want them to get too into throwing punches. “It all looks good, but how about we focus on some things that are less about punching and more about protecting yourself? Punching’s good, but that requires you to engage with your assailant. Best not to bring a fist to a gunfight, or even a knife fight. What you want is to disarm and detain your assailant as quickly as possible, so I think that’s what we’ll go over today, if that’s alright with you.”

Nine. Stars above, she had only been nine. When Morgan was nine...well, that was another cursed year. It wasn’t a great time. But she wasn’t tending to purposely inflicted burn wounds or fearing for her mortal life. She couldn’t understand the humanity in that, the kindness in that. Mina was capable, what she said about disarming and detaining? It hadn’t even occurred to her that there were different techniques for that. “No, that sounds like a good idea,” she said quickly. “My instincts are more ‘run for the hills’ anyway right now. Only problem is I can’t really do that if I’m, you know, dying. Is this what you learned first too?”

“The most important lesson is to not die,” Mina said, laughing a little. Not the first, though. The first had been to be careful with promises and to never ask anyone for their name. The next, and vastly more important, had been not to drown anyone. “The first thing I learned, really, though, was how not to hurt other people.” She trusted Morgan, enough to allow her hand to change, the fingernails changing into claws and webbing growing between the fingers. “These hurt. The teeth, too. And nixies like to drown people. I had to learn not to do that.” She shifted her hand back, a few patches of scales still clinging to her skin. She’d been better with shifting as a child, when it’d come more naturally. Now, it was like her mind and body were at war. One wanted desperately to be human. The other liked to remind her that she’d never be one. “So, ah, could you tell me about what happened?” She hated asking, but she knew that would be the best place to start. “That way, I can try to tell you the best ways to get out of similar situations, and then we can work from there.”

Morgan gaped at Mina’s second, mermaid-like skin. She hovered her fingers over it, curious, noting the claws, how fierce she was, or had been born to be. Remembering how insecure Mina had been brought up to be, she said, “I don’t mean to stare. You’re just...kind of incredible. You’re beautiful, Mina. It doesn’t hurt to shift while you’re out of water, does it?” But..they were getting off track. Morgan needed to survive. Remmy wasn’t going to be helping her anytime soon, and even if the hunter who’d gone after her was dead, there was so, so little keeping it from happening again with someone else. Morgan swallowed, straightened up. “He came at me from behind. There was something like...like a wire noose on a rad. It just kind of...came at me. Around me…” She shivered, lifting a hand to her neck, pressing down on where it had been. “It pulled me backwards. So...how would I fix that? Or something else that...came up from behind?”

“Ah. Well. I mean, um, thank you,” Mina said a bit stiltedly. She wasn’t used to the compliments. There was nothing beautiful about being Fae. It was otherworldly and unnatural. It had been fun, when she was a child, to see other children obsessed with mermaids when she herself was even better than a monstrous, vile mermaid, but then she’d learned she wasn’t much better. “It-- it doesn't hurt, really. It’s easier to shift to the scales than shift back.” Some of the scales would probably stick around for a couple of hours, and they’d come back when she got in the water again, but Morgan’s words did make her a bit more comfortable with them being out around another person. Mina’s own hand went up to her throat. She took a calming breath, though, and remembered her training. “Alright. A wire on a rod is a bit different, but I’d treat it the same way you treat a garrote wire around the neck. Attempt to back up while putting your hand between the wire and your neck. Your hands can heal, and they aren’t as vital as your throat. Then, the goal is to twist yourself towards them.” As she spoke, she demonstrated the movements as best as she could without another person. “After, the goal would be to strike out at the groin with your fist or knee until they let go, but, since the wire is on a stick, the next course of action would be to get the rod out of their hands. When they’re incapacitated and you’re free, some might suggest killing them,” Mina said calmly. “I suggest removing yourself from the situation.”

A garrotte. Fantastic. How amazingly 18th century of hunters. What next, a morning star? Morgan tried to swallow back her grimace. Of course Mina wouldn’t want to kill the hunters. She still identified, at least partially, as one of them. Truthfully, Morgan struggled to picture herself squeezing the life out of anyone. That warden she’d left in the bog had been different. She was desperate, and she’d tried everything to get them out first. It had been, well, not an accident, but not like what the hunter in the woods had done. She hadn’t set out wanting to. She had just done what she needed to make the ritual happen. Pushing the quandary away, Morgan reminded herself that running on infinite stamina would be a lot better than rewriting every instinct her mortal life had taught her. “Sure,” she said. “Sounds good. Uh…” She tried to mime the motions as Mina had showed them to her, but felt a little at a loss, grasping at air. “Can you um..let’s say you are closer to me.” She repositioned herself, bringing Mina’s up near her neck. “You’re pulling me back, so should I grip like this? And then--” she followed the rest of the instructions, up to a point. “Strike out how, exactly?”

It was easy for Mina to let herself slip back into training mode. Perhaps even easier than usual because, even though Morgan was a zombie, Mina wasn’t nearly as worried about getting hurt as she’d normally be. This was a bit like tutoring, except without the numbers. Still, there were certain algorithms that went with fighting. Once you learned the moves, the formulas, you could manipulate them to serve your purpose. It was mainly about trying not to panic when things got too intense or weren’t exactly as planned. She’d messed up plenty of training exercises because small details had been changed, when she was younger. Really, when she thought about it, most of her scars were attributed to her own foolishness. She put that thought aside, seeing as how it was a prime example of getting distracted, and put herself back in the present. “Alright, if I’m choking you with something, a wire or a belt or a piece of rope, grip it to pull it off of your neck, yes. Make sure you back up close to your assailant-- me, in this case. Now, you’re going to turn your body in towards me a bit,” she repositioned Morgan so that the older woman was turned slightly, “and strike out however you have to in order to get me off of you. Step on my feet, kick my shins, elbow me in the stomach, the thigh, the groin. Whatever it takes to get me off.”

Morgan nodded and righted herself back into position. This time she pushed against Mina’s hands with full strength and turned so quickly she was already poised to step on her toe. She came down hard and moved to elbow her in the stomach. She tried to imagine how it would be if this were real, if something clawed at her out of nowhere during a walk in the woods, or at work, in a parking lot somewhere. Would her brain be lagging behind her with second guesses? Was this hard enough, fast enough? “What do I do if it’s not enough?” She asked suddenly. “You--okay, not you, but someone, some guy, some hunter--they just catch me again.” She swallowed thickly. “What happens then? How do I not die again? Um...hypothetically-but-maybe-not speaking?” She stared hard into Mina’s eyes, uncertain but pleading all the same. She wanted to know how to hurt them back. She wanted to know how to make them stop for good, just in case.

The word “again” made sure that Mina didn’t forget what Morgan was. It reminded her that she was here, teaching a zombie how to defend herself. She should have felt guilty. Instead, she felt resigned. Her dad was wrong. Not all supernaturals were monsters. Her friend hadn’t magically changed just because she was no longer human. If it wasn’t for the lack of breathing, the coldness of her skin, Mina wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Really, she only knew because she’d been told. She couldn’t pick out a zombie on the street even if it bit her, she was sure. For better or for worse, Morgan was the same person, and Mina didn’t want her to die. Again. So she said, “Kill them.” She looked Morgan in the eyes, her tone serious. “If they’re coming at you, and they don’t give up, kill them. You’re stronger than you think, even well-fed. You’re pain receptors are practically nonexistent, which works in your favor. People don’t put as much effort into things because it hurts, but as long as you don’t get your head chopped off, you’ll heal.” She swallowed, thinking. “If you can, break their neck. They’re human. Even if they heal quickly, they’re not coming back from a broken neck.”

Morgan hadn’t expected Mina to be so blunt or sure. Weren’t the hunters her people? And what about her father? But there was nothing but certainty and understanding in Mina’s expression. The stakes were as real to her as they were to Morgan. Morgan looked down at her arms. She didn’t feel especially strong at the moment. She hadn’t had to think about herself as a weapon when she’d been alive. She hadn’t had to cultivate any skills that were just for hurting. Sure she’d melted that ass-blossom’s skin, and she’d threatened to do worse, but alchemy had been neutral. It shaped itself with intention. Morgan didn’t know what else to do with this knowledge. Was it enough to protect herself? To keep hold of what little she had. “Thank you,” she said solemnly. “Can we go again? I um...I need to get more used to this. I don’t even know how strong I am, actually. And I trust you, Mina. And I…” She wasn’t sure if Mina would take this as well as she meant, if she could see enough softness and humanity in the parts of her that were fae. “I feel like you get it. How...batshit and real and scary this all is. And I’m...used to losing everything. But not...not being able to try to stop it. I know our stories are really different, but you understand, don’t you?”

It did make Mina a little sick to talk about this. She couldn’t hurt a human, and it seemed like she was incapable of hurting supernaturals, too. After all, she was teaching one how to defend herself from the very people Mina was supposed to be a part of. But she wasn’t, not really, not all the time, and she couldn’t let someone hurt Morgan. She gave the older woman (a zombie, a zombie; she couldn’t forget she was a zombie) a nod. “We can keep going until you’re comfortable,” she said. “You might be surprised at how strong you are. And as long as you don’t suddenly have iron skin, I’ll heal from whatever. Give me your best shot.” Mina stood up a bit straighter. She did get it. How awful and scary the world was. But she’d always seen it from the other side. The supernatural were the monsters. She was even a monster, really, one of those awful, scary things. Only, now, it was getting harder to see that, even if it was true. Monsters were hard to hate when they seemed just as scared as the humans. “I understand,” she said, quietly. “You shouldn’t have to lose anymore. And now, you don’t have to. You can protect yourself. You can protect the people around you.” That’s what Mina was beginning to see that she wanted: not to just hunt, not to just take bounties at the highest bid, but to protect. And, sometimes, that meant protecting people that didn’t seem like people at a first glance. “Come on. Let’s go again.”

[13-reasons-ideas]

Finding Peace in Another Part 7

TW: passing mention of sibling death

Waking up feeling a pair of eyes on me, I groaned as I slowly rolled over to face him. “Hmmm good morning you.” I said sleepily. 

“Morning sleepy.” He replied with his sexy morning voice, head propped up, resting on his hand, eyes darting from my eyes to my lips, almost as if asking permission. Smiling, I put a hand on Monty’s neck, pulling him down for a tentative kiss. He quickly started playing with the sides of his flannel as he intensified the kiss, “as good as this looks on you, I’d like to see it on the floor again.” I giggled, reaching for my phone I saw it read 6:30 we have a little time I thought. I moaned softly as he began kissing and sucking on the back left side of my neck, hopefully not but possibly leaving a mark. Letting him have his fun for a few minutes, I gently tugged on his hair “as much as I would love to spend the day in bed, we have school. I need to get ready, and unless you want Bryce or the others to know about this already, you have to go.”

“Five more minutes, please?” He pleaded against my neck. Acquiescing, five minutes of making out quickly became fifteen minutes of touching and teasing each other before I reluctantly pulled away after a particularly rough scratch on his back. 

“We have to get up now. We are running late.” Slowly disentangling myself from Monty, I deliberately grabbed a pair of jeans and slipped them on sans underwear, smirking at him. 

“Oh damn that hurts. How am I going to get through the day knowing what you’re wearing? Or rather, not wearing. Can I at least have my flannel back?” 

Making a show of thinking about his questions, I smirked “hmmmmm... nope. I don’t think so. It’s mine now.” 

He growled in response, getting up slowly and finding his jeans, quickly slipping them on and giving me a devilish look. “You want to play that game this morning baby girl?” 

Screeching, I ran from my room, laughing as I heard him catch up to me. Monty grabbed me by the waist and pulled me flush against him. I could feel the effect that my teasing had on him against my back. He growled in my ear “first, you get me all turned on, and leave me high and dry. Then, you put pants on without underwear. And now, you decide I can’t have my shirt back? You little tease.” Whispering in my ear, he continued. “What am I going to wear to school today then little one?” 

Clearing my throat, I softly offered one of my brother’s old shirts. The mood shifted almost immediately, though he didn’t release his grip on me. 

“You have a brother?” He asked, slightly surprised. 

Ignoring his question, I simply asked “what size do you wear?”

“An extra large. You have a brother?” He asked again.

“I did.” I replied quietly, shrugging a bit. 

“D-do you want to talk about it?” Monty asked softly, concerned for me. 

I simply shook my head no. Turning back to him, I repeated my original offer and explained they were basically all plain so it wouldn’t be that suspicious. 

“Yeah, sure. If you don’t mind.” He replied. I nodded in response and took his hand, leading him to the basement where the rest of the boxes were held, waiting to be unpacked. Walking towards one, I opened it quickly, not wanting to go through the box or be near it for long and motioned for him to go through it. Monty quickly found one and shrugged it on. I smiled at him and we went back upstairs so I could make coffee and find something other than his shirt to wear to school. After it was made and I had a more appropriate top on, I sat on the counter and held my cup up to my mouth, gently blowing on it. I watched Monty as he got himself a cup. It was now 7:02 “If you don’t want Bryce or anyone to see you leave, you can go out back and hang a right, go down the street and cut through the parking lot.” I told him. He nodded and looked at me, smirking. “What?” I asked him shyly. 

“You have sex hair.” He finally replied after a couple of minutes, stalking towards me. I reached up to try to fix it as he leaned down slightly to plant a kiss on my lips, his hands resting on the counter on either side of my hips. There was a knock at the door and we both froze. 

“Becca, are you still here?” We heard Scott yell asking through the door. Looking at Monty, I called back to Scott. 

“Yeah Scotty. I’m still here. Just a minute!” Giggling softly, I pushed Monty out of the way, climbing off the counter and motioned for him to hide in my room as I fixed my sex hair. I pulled it up into a messy bun, not realizing that there was a sizeable hickey on my neck. Before he went, he leaned down and pressed an intense kiss to my lips. 

“See you soon.” He whispered to me. 

“See you.” I whispered back, struggling to get my black low top converse on. After he went to my room, I ran to get the door seeing Scott and Bryce standing on the other side. “Hey guys what’s up?” I greeted them, still slightly out of breath from the kiss. 

Scott furrowed his brow, “you okay Rebecca? You seem a little out of breath.”

“Y-yeah Scott. I’m fine. I just realized I forgot to turn the tap off all the way while I got ready.” I said, lying through my teeth. 

“Oh… okay. Anyway, we were wondering if you wanted to walk to school with us since it’s nice out.” Scott said simply. Bryce just looked at me as if he expected something of me.

“Uh... sure guys. Let me just grab my bag.” I replied, turning to grab my backpack. 

As we walked, Scott on my left and Bryce on my right, we spent most of the walk to school talking about pointless shit. Mostly questions about what it’s like back home and stuff. After a few blocks, Scott looked at me and noticed the hickey Montgomery had given me that morning. “Is-is that a hickey?” He asked, surprised. Bryce turned to me after he processed the question and tried to look for himself, a shocked smirk on his face. It made me slightly uncomfortable. I quickly brought my hand up to my neck and touched it gently. Thinking fast I flinched slightly and for the second time that morning, lied straight through my teeth. 

“No Scott. I burned myself with my flat iron last night.” 

Scott raises his eyebrow at me. “You were using your flat iron... at night?” 

“Yeah. I used my diffuser to dry my hair after my shower and... let’s just say my hair was... fluffy. So therefore, I had to straighten it.” I silently prayed to God that he would buy it. 

Shrugging, he simply replied “okay.” 

Spotting Montgomery walking towards us, without his usual flannel, I exclaimed “oh look! There’s Monty. We should walk together.” The boys nodded as I ran ahead of them, reaching Monty before Scott and Bryce could. “You left a fucking hickey on the side of my neck. Scott fucking saw.” I said through clenched teeth. Before he could answer or I could continue, the boys caught up to us. 

“Someone excited to see our resident douchbag?” Bryce smirked looking at the two of us. His eyes lingering on Monty’s choice of clothes for a second longer than I wanted. I hope he doesn’t ask questions... but at least Monty left his shirt for me. I thought to myself. Bryce’s eyes went back to me and he tried to hide the fact that he was looking me up and down, almost appraisingly. I tried to ignore the feeling in my chest.

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “No. Thought that title was saved for you Bryce. I just decided I wanted some coffee on the way. Can we stop at Monet’s? My treat.” The boys all agreed quickly because who says no to free coffee. Keeping up with Monty, I whispered. “Don’t think you’re off the hook for the hickey Montgomery. I had to tell Scott I burned my neck with my fucking flat iron last night.”

Montgomery smirked trying to hold back a laugh. “Did he buy it?” 

“I think so. He seemed to accept the answer at the very least. We will finish this discussion later.” Turning back to Scott and Bryce, I yelled “you know, for star athletes you guys are pretty fucking slow! I’m short as shit and I’m still faster than you. Move your asses! I want my coffee.” Bryce gave me the finger as Scott laughed, both boys sprinting to catch up with us.

When we got to Monet’s I spotted Tony’s red Mustang. He was standing, leaning against it as he looked at us. He rose an eyebrow at Montgomery and I when I caught his gaze. “Uh, hey guys. I have to talk to Tony about an English paper really quick. Take some cash, get whatever you want. I’ll get a medium Americano, one-exactly one-Splenda and a splash of half and half if you don’t mind.” I told the boys taking out my wallet and handing a wad of cash to Scott. They nodded and went inside as I walked over to Tony. “Hey.” I said lamely, awkwardly pulling my bag up on my shoulder, unsure of how to approach the topic at hand. 

“Hey.” He replied.

“You saw us together last night, didn’t you?” I cut right to the chase.

“Yeah. You looked pretty cozy.” 

“You... you won’t tell anyone, right? We uh... we haven’t really... we don’t want people knowing yet.” I asked, realizing I was more worried about his response and confused about Montgomery and I than I thought I was.

“No Becca. It’s not my business to tell. Just watch out for yourself, okay? Montgomery De La Cruz is... well he’s a lot of things. Just be careful.” Tony told me, trying to sound like he didn’t actually care all that much, but failing to do so. 

“Okay. Thanks Tony.” 

“No problem.” He said as I turned to walk away. “Hey! Wait a second!” He called from behind me. I turned with a confused look on my face. He beckoned me back to him. “Frozen spoon for the giant hickey. Oh, and someone is going to notice that he isn’t wearing his usual attire so... keep that in mind next time.” 

I simply smiled and nodded, waving bye as I walked into the coffee shop. Scott was just finishing stirring my coffee. I took it from him and took a tentative sip, “hmm. Not bad Reed.” I smiled and took another sip. He chuckled and put his arm around my shoulders as we left the shop and made our way to school. As we walked, I turned to Monty and saw his jaw was tense, obviously displeased with Scott touching me in such an intimate way. We agreed not to tell anyone about us... and we never said we couldn’t see or touch other people. I’ll bring it up to him tonight. He must have felt me looking at him because he turned and raised his eyebrow at me, as if to say, ‘this isn’t over’ and went back to talking to Bryce about baseball stuff. We walked the rest of the way to school like that, Scott’s arm around me making conversation-and giving me shit for my Splenda in coffee order- and Montgomery and Bryce talking about baseball. Almost as if last night and this morning were forgotten. Almost. 

Arriving at school, promptly at 7:48, I mumbled something about having to go to the bathroom and slipped out of Scott’s arm making my way to a more secluded hallway, away from prying eyes and ears. I hoped Monty got the hint to follow me. I turned when I felt someone touch my wrist, smiling at Montgomery. “Hey.” I said lamely.

“Hey yourself.” He replied, looking down at me, still holding my wrist.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked him quietly. He was quiet for a moment, like he was deciding if he was or not. 

“No. I’m not pleased, but I’m not mad.” He said finally. 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Okay. Are you mad at Scott?” Again, he was quiet. 

“Yes and no. We can talk more later. I’ll come by after practice. You have to go to class.” He said, seeming to end the discussion for now. Montgomery looked over his shoulder quickly before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “See you at lunch baby.” He murmured before turning around and walking to his locker. Sighing, I made my way to my own locker and went to History. I felt my phone buzz and saw that I had a text from Montgomery, ‘Bryce going to Chloe’s after practice. Will come over around 6.’ Smiling I quickly replied, ‘Are you staying over? :)’ As I walked into class and sat down, Montgomery replied, ‘if you want me to baby, I will.’ I thought for a second and typed ‘yes please. Make it 6:30 though. Run home and grab a change of clothes. Specifically, another flannel. Promise not to hold that one hostage.’ The final bell rang just as he responded ‘okay. Class baby’. Sighing, I took out my stuff for class as Zach sat next to me. We exchanged pleasantries and chatted a bit until Coach started class. It was going to be a very long day. And it would be a long night. Montgomery and I had a lot to discuss tonight. 

[kingkeerys]

the art of chasing ♔ billy hargrove

concept: steve has a female best friend and billy has taken it upon himself to flirt with her just to piss steve off. that’s it. that’s the plot.

a/n: i don’t know where this came from. it just sort of happened. it’s not really an imagine bc i don’t like writing in second person or even first person, hence the reason the girl actually has a name. but i guess it can classify as one. i’ll be glad to write more if people enjoy it. also just a disclaimer, i don’t condone billy’s behavior in the show. i know he’s an asshole. but i do love dacre montgomery, so. this happened. also this has no timeframe, it’s just basically taking place randomly in season 2. each scenario is numbered separately that way i can write however many i want whenever i want. sound good?~~

just a young gun with a quick fuse,

i was uptight, wanna let loose.

i was dreamin’ of bigger things and

wanna leave my old life behind.

#1

“’Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit…’” he reiterated in a high-pitched rendition of Nancy Wheeler’s voice.

Annie’s eyebrows rose as she replaced a few things in her locker.

“Ouch,” she said, frowning a bit. “Are you sure she knew what she was talking about? I mean, she was drunk. She might not have even heard what you said. Drunk people usually don’t.”

Steve Harrington gave her a dubious look as he leaned against the locker next to hers. He inclined his head, a strand of brown hair falling down over his forehead.

“She knew,” he said. “She heard me loud and clear. Good to know the last year has been nothing but bullshit to her.”

“I mean, she has been through a lot,” Annie reluctantly added, closing her locker with a sigh. “With her brother’s friend and then Barbara. You said it yourself, she’s been distant lately ever since her friend was declared… well, you know. It’s probably just stress.”

“I thought you hated Nancy,” Steve squinted over at her, as if betrayed that she was suddenly taking his girlfriend’s – ex-girlfriend’s? – side for once. “And now you’re defending her?”

“I don’t… hate her,” Annie disagreed carefully.

It was mostly the truth. Annie had a hard time hating anyone but if there was a person that came close to it, it was Nancy Wheeler.

She never understood the hype around the girl. Sure, she was pretty with a bright pair of blue doe eyes and she didn’t seem stupid considering her grades, but Annie never saw the appeal. She became exasperated when Steve started to chase after her the year prior and she tried to be the pliant, accepting best friend whenever Nancy was around for his sake, but that was as far as it went. Nancy seemed like a very two-dimensional person - almost artificial but not completely fake, like she tried to be a good person but it was for all the wrong reasons.

Not that Annie had any right to judge considering she’d only spoken about ten words to the girl. She couldn’t even pretend like she knew her personally so her judgement was all speculation at this point, and Nancy had never been directly rude to her whenever Steve had her around.

She did feel bad when her friend Barbara went missing though because, unlike Nancy, Barbara had been very approachable and kind. And it was clear that her disappearance really struck a chord in Nancy, causing her to go off the rails a bit and act slightly less goodie-two-shoes than usual. Again, not something Annie could judge since she was a bit of a goodie-two-shoes herself, but it was still a change worth noting.

Annie assumed Nancy’s situation with Barbara would be the equivalent to Steve going missing. If she lost him she didn’t know what she’d do. It made her sick to her stomach just thinking about it.

So no, she didn’t hate Nancy. But she didn’t like her either.

“And I’m not defending her,” Annie continued, pulling herself back into the present. “I’m just trying to see the story from both sides. But I’m sorry she said that to you,” Annie gave him a sympathetic look.

Steve heaved a deep sigh and turned to where his back was against the locker. He tilted his head back, his head hitting dully against the metal door.

“It’s just stupid. Things weren’t this complicated last year.”

“I know what you mean,” Annie nodded, reflecting on the past couple of months. “Ever since Will Byers went missing it’s like there’s been this chain reaction. Everything’s just been… weird.”

Steve snorted. “You have no idea.”

Annie glanced over at him. “What are you going to do?”

Steve mutely shook his head. Annie immediately understood what that mean. I have no idea.

She opened her mouth to say something else, maybe give him a confidence boost or talk negatively about Nancy to make him feel better, when loud laughter stopped her short.

She peered around Steve and spotted one of the banes of his existence prowling down the hallway with a bounce in their step. The boy’s snakelike grin stretched wide across his face the second his eyes found Steve’s miserable form and Annie felt dread pool in her gut at what might transpire.

“Why the long face, Harrington?” he mocked, the boys behind him muffling their laughter into closed fists. “Couldn’t get it up her skirt last night? Too much bullshit to satisfy the missus?”

Steve’s jaw clenched at the backhanded comment.

Annie placed a hand on his arm, quietly hoping he wouldn’t take the bait. Thankfully he kept his mouth shut, though his eyes were sharp as daggers.

The boy guffawed at Steve’s cold look before he turned his attention to Annie as he passed by them.

“Hey there, cutie,” he winked, flashing her a dazzling smile full of white teeth and Annie stiffened, her insides feeling hot. That was new. He’d never acknowledged her before on any of his other verbal attacks at Steve.

Steve must’ve noticed this too for his posture straightened and he kicked away from the locker, his shoulders squared as he stared the boy down, mentally debating with himself whether he wanted to instigate a fight or not. His glare didn’t go unnoticed and the boy laughed loudly again, covering his mouth with a bejeweled hand in callous mockery before him and his posse disappeared around the corner in all their denim-clad glory.

Annie released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and she glanced over at Steve who was still staring in the direction the boy had disappeared in. It was obvious his feathers had been rustled, no doubt the boy’s intentions from the get-go.

Annie patted his arm and his shoulders slowly lost their tension.

“He’s such an asshole,” said Steve sourly.

Billy Hargrove certainly was an asshole.

He tormented others for his own personal enjoyment and more often than not Steve was on the receiving end of it. Annie couldn’t think of two people that were more opposite than Steve and Billy. They were night and day personified and that was probably one of the reasons why Billy felt the need to make Steve’s life a living hell. That and the fact that he just could.

There were few things Billy didn’t get away with, which was irritating to Annie. If there was one thing she hated more than people breaking the rules, it was people who allowed those rules to be broken.

Billy was a boy of average height and stocky build with blonde hair that fell just below his neck in an unkempt sort of way that could only be described as deliberate. His trademark was his acid-washed denim jacket and sun-kissed skin that had spent years under the California rays.

That was probably one of the reasons most of the girls at Hawkins High were enamored by him. A west coast boy with above average looks and a devil-may-care attitude to boot? They couldn’t get enough of him. Another factor that seemed to piss Steve off to no end. A very small portion of that could be jealousy, Annie deduced. Being envious of the same sex’s appearance wasn’t limited to only girls. But mostly she knew he was just baffled by all the attention he got.

Because Billy was an asshole.

“I know,” Annie said calmly, shaking off her jitters. “He’s just trying to get under your skin. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“Hard not to,” Steve countered. “He’s fucking everywhere.”

The bell rang and Annie tugged on the crook of Steve’s arm with an encouraging smile.

“C’mon, let’s go to class. We can get ice cream after.”

Steve let her lead him down the hall with a reluctant half-smile and for the moment Billy Hargrove and Nancy Wheeler were only distant worries.

* * *

not a yes sir, not a follower

fit the box, fit the mold

have a seat in the foyer

take a number

i was lightning before the thunder.

#2

“Did you do the math homework?”

“Is that even a question, Steve?”

Steve grinned despite himself.

“Overachiever,” he said fondly. Annie laughed as she moved forward in the lunch line and grabbed a clean tray from the pile.

“’Overachiever’ doesn’t mean someone who does work that’s required of them,” she said humorously. “That’s just a basic achiever.”

“Whatever,” Steve brushed her comment off, though his eyes were sparkling. He grabbed a tray of his own and placed it on the counter, sliding down the line as he gazed down at the steaming food with a scrunched nose. “What is this?”

“Pork I think,” Annie surveyed the heaping pile of brown goo in front of them with trepidation. Did pork usually have that much gravy?

“Beef stew,” one of the lunch ladies glowered at Annie, insulted with her assumption. Annie flushed and she heard Steve snicker next to her. The woman held a spoonful of the liquid up in question and Annie tried to smile through her embarrassed cringe.

“I’m a vegetarian,” she lied, trying to sound polite.

The woman rolled her eyes and grunted before slapping the chunky serving onto Steve’s plate instead. He grimaced but quickly covered it up with an overzealous smile that made Annie want to laugh too.

They continued moving down the line, holding their plates out for various side dishes that were offered to them.

“So, about that math homework,” Steve prompted as they neared the register, flashing his brown eyes at her. Annie pursed her lips at her best friend but ultimately caved, shoulders slumping.

“Fine, you can copy it,” she relented, trying and failing to sound disapproving. She lifted a finger. “But just this once. Maybe you should look into finding a tutor.”

“I hear you’re free,” Steve suggested with a mischievous grin.

“Suddenly my schedule’s all booked up,” Annie retorted. Steve huffed a laugh through his nose. “Aw man,” Annie frowned, eyes scanning the refrigerated shelves in front of her. “They don’t have any more oranges.”

“Health freak,” Steve quipped.

“Says the athlete with the low carb diet,” she fired right back. Steve stuck his tongue out at her.

Annie grinned to herself. He was in much higher spirits lately despite the continued rockiness of his and Nancy’s relationship, or lack thereof. She was relieved to see his chipper side returning, stewing silently in his renowned energy. She wasn’t sure but she had a theory that him spending more time with the kids – Dustin, Caleb, and Nancy’s younger brother, Mike – were the root cause of his improved mood.

“Does this look low carb to you?” he motioned to the vile brown liquid seeping into his side of macaroni.

“That doesn’t look like anything edible,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I should’ve packed my lunch today. I really wish they had oranges. I wanted an orange.”

“I’ll buy you an orange later to make up for the homework,” Steve said, sounding both exasperated and amused. Annie smiled proudly.

She was getting ready to be next at the register and she got her money ready to hand to the lady waiting, only to feel someone saddle up next to her and ultimately cut her in line.

A scowl pulled at Annie’s brow and she opened her mouth to retaliate, only to have the objections die in her throat at the sight of who it was that cut her.

Billy Hargrove was smiling at the lunch lady, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he marched himself to the front of the line with no disregard for courtesy. Her eyes flitted downward and her scowl deepened. He had an orange in his hand.

Whilst Annie remained stubbornly quiet, Steve had no reserves and he glared venomously at the curly-haired boy.

“Hey,” he snapped, leaning around Annie to get a view of the boy. “Get to the back of the line, man.”

“I’m sorry, do you hear something?” Billy asked, apparently to the lunch lady as his gaze didn’t waver from hers, tapping his ear in false curiosity. “It’s like this weird buzzing sound.”

“Nice one, dipshit,” Steve retorted. “Real mature.”

“Language,” the woman admonished without much heat. Steve gave her a slack-jawed look.

“Sorry, ma’am, I just wanted to let you know that I can’t pay today,” Billy said, voice pleasant. The act was so convincing that Annie could almost believe he wasn’t a terror to be around. The woman narrowed her eyes at him, obviously displeased.

“This is the third time this week, Billy.”

“I know. I just need one more day. I’m only getting this,” he held the orange up. He smiled charmingly again. “Please?”

His blue eyes glittered like the ocean and apparently not even the older women could resist his rugged allure. She sighed in defeat.

“Alright, tomorrow then.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I sure do appreciate it,” he gave her one last winning smile before turning to face Steve. The once amiable, school b0y smile transformed into something more poisonous. Steve held his ground, accepting the stare-off and Annie glanced between the two of them warily, once again afraid of all the potential fights that could ensue, but Billy broke the gaze before any of them could play out. He looked down at her and smirked easily, outstretching the orange. “Here, sweetheart.”

Annie stared at the orange for a full five seconds before cautiously accepting it. Billy bestowed her with another wink and his eyes flashed sharply up at Steve whose glare could melt skin before he turned on his heel and waltzed off, ever the image of satisfaction and arrogance. The intense musk of his cologne hit Annie on the back end and for a second she couldn’t think straight, only able to shake herself out of her stupor when Steve sniffed next to her.

“He’s doing this on purpose,” Steve muttered, eyes dark and murderous. “He’s fucking with you to fuck with me. Asshole.”

“Language, Mister Harrington.”

Annie quickly handed the woman her money when the woman prompted her with an impatient look. She waited for Steve to pay for his food and then followed him to a nearby table that didn’t have any other students. They sat down across from one another and Annie realized Steve’s mood had turned sour from the encounter.

“Fucking Billy,” he glanced over his shoulder across the room and spotted Nancy sitting closely with Jonathan Byers, murmuring conspiratorially to him and sitting closer than necessary. He turned back around. “Fucking Nancy.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Annie said for lack of anything better. She stared down at the orange, turning it over in her hands.

Weird.

[dental1234]

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"Montgomery's Top Picks for Teeth Straightening Near You"

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Teeth Straightening in Montgomery offers a variety of innovative treatments tailored to your specific dental concerns. Whether you prefer traditional braces or discreet clear aligners, there's a solution to suit every lifestyle and preference. Expert orthodontists in Montgomery are dedicated to providing personalized care and exceptional results, guiding you through every step of your smile transformation journey.

Teeth Straightening near Montgomery provides convenient access to cutting-edge dental facilities equipped with the latest technology and techniques. Say goodbye to lengthy commutes and hello to quality orthodontic care right in your local area. From initial consultation to follow-up appointments, the process of achieving a straighter smile is made seamless and hassle-free.

Discover Montgomery's top picks for teeth straightening near you and take the first step towards a confident, radiant smile. With a focus on patient satisfaction and outstanding results, you can trust that your smile is in good hands. Don't let crooked teeth hold you back any longer – explore the options for teeth straightening near Montgomery today and unlock the smile of your dreams.