#and I don’t deserve love from people as I am especially when I’m hurting them

[deityofhearts]

It’s just like, I know I have the capacity to be happy and be loved but I don’t feel loved and as long as I don’t feel loved I can’t be happy

[motherjoel]

arms tonite (joel miller/reader)

summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad

-

-

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.

In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.

The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.

“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room. 

“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night. 

“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.

“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch. 

“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.

“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.

The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base. 

“What the fu-” you started.

“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice

“Look at them go!” you giggled.

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you. 

“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going. 

You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about. 

“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.

“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.

“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.

“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.

“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.

“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.

“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in. 

“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.

“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels. 

“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.

“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.

“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen. 

“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.

“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.

“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?

“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.

“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.

“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”

“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?

“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision. 

-

You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”

“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now. 

“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.

“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.

 You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good. 

You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak. 

“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”

“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.

“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.

Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.

“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.

-

You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.

“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart. 

“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.

“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”

“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.

“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.

“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.

“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.

“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.

“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.

“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.

“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.

“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.

“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.

“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.

He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.

“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“That little shit,” he sighed.

“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.

[rlimagi]

When Everything Else Becomes Too Much

Pairing: Bridget x reader

Requested?: Yes!

Genre: Angst and Fluff!

Warnings: sad Bridget

Note: Another Bridget one because I love her sm and many of you guys asked me to write more for her, so here you go<3

You and Bridget had always been by each other's side sine elementary school, she was your go to person for everything and you were hers. There was a bond of deep understanding and love between you and the princess of Wonderland.

Which was why you were the first person she came to after everything and everyone else became too much.

You were alone in your room, going through your Magical History notes since exam season was coming up when you heard someone knocking on your door.

Immediately, you knew it was Bridget because she was the only person in the whole school who knew how to knock. Most of your friends would barge in your room like it was their own.

You were immediately met with a bone crushing hug as soon as you opened the door. You breathed in the sweet smell of her candy scented perfume as you melted into the hug.

"Hey there, pretty girl." You muttered as you wrapped your arms around her waist. Bridget stayed quiet as she nuzzled into your neck. She was never that quiet so you knew that something bad must've happened to make her so upset.

"Alright, we can talk whenever you feel like talking...but we really should head inside instead of standing in the middle of the hallway." You waited until she nodded before locking her hands into yours and leading her into your room.

Bridget sighed as she settled into your soft blankets, basically drowning in your plushies as you tugged her in. “I know that you were planning to study all day and I'm sorry for distracting yo-”

"No, you'd never be a distraction." You reassured her with a soft smile before lifting her hands up and placed a gentle kiss on them. You enjoyed watching how her face reddened up whenever you do those simple but loving gestures.

“Now tell me what got you so upset, do I need to beat someone up?” You said jokingly, giving her a cheeky grin when she sent you a reprimanding look.

Bridget shook her head before pulling you onto the bed, yearning for the comfort of your body. “No, please don’t. I don’t want to see you in detention for me again.”

Bridget was the nicest person ever, even to people who never deserved her kindest. Especially Uliana and her gangs of delinquents, you had a long and violent history with them. Detention was your second home at that point but it didn’t matter because you would always win and you got the girl too.

“Alright, fine I won’t…though I would be up for it if you ever change your mind?” You chuckled as she leaned onto your shoulder, your arms wrapped around hers as she played with your hair.

A few minutes of silence passed before Bridget finally spoke up.

“Am I weak?” Bridget asked, her eyes bubbling up with tears as she looked at you with such vulnerable eyes. It made you upset knowing the exact person who made her felt like that, but you couldn’t get them yet because Bridget needed you the most.

“No, of course not. You’re the strongest person I know.” You gently used your hands to wipe her tears away as she sat in silence before looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“Really? Because everyone else seems to think that I’m a pushover…I try so hard to get them to like me, I offer them treats, I let them copy of my homework, and I never said anything when they talked about me behind my back…” Bridget wasn’t able to stop her tears from falling anymore, she was hurt by all the things people had said behind her back but she never wanted it to bother her.

“Yeah, they’re right. I’m a total pushover.”

Bridget would always say that we get more with sugar than salt but today, everything and everyone was too much. But you were the only one she felt like she could never get enough of.

“And what’s so bad about being a pushover? Your kindness is why you’re so strong because no matter how vile and mean people can get, you would never stoop to their level.” You said as you locked your hands into hers firmly. Looking at her gently as you continued to ramble on.

“Like Uliana for example, that girl can’t breathe without ruining someone’s day-“

Bridget watched as you continued on with so much passion, it made her heart flutter by the way you reassured her with so much love. It felt like time had slowed down for her because all she could focus on were your lips.

“You know how hard that is for me to not fight back when Uliana barks in my ear every time we see each other? But you’re so natural at it because you’re patient, forgiving, and extremely strong. That’s what I love about you and you should love yourself for that reason too.” You didn’t even notice that you’ve been talking for so long because you got so riled up just thinking about all the people that had done your girlfriend wrong.

“Thank you, baby. I really needed to hear that.” Bridget’s frown finally turned upside down and she pulled you into another hug but it was much softer this time, it made you feel like you’re on top of the world after seeing that she felt much better.

“Of course, anytime sweetheart.” You smiled as you gently kissed her on her forehead, running your hair through her soft pink hair.

Without another second wasted, Bridget wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled your face closer to hers. Your eyes were met with a pair of loving gaze as she leaned in, you’ve kissed Bridget many times but she never failed to make your heart flutter every single time.

When Bridget’s lips met yours, it felt like fireworks were blowing up inside of her body and all she could care about was the girl who made her feel that way.

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the story I mentioned yesterday! Trying something new for me but I hope y'all enjoy it. I've always found Mafia Eddie incredible sexy <3. This is an AU with a mixture of Stranger Things you will definitely recognize :). I wrote with the idea that Hawkins is a big city so keep that in mind lol

Warnings: Mafia Gangster Eddie/ Officer (slightly mean) Steve Harrington/ Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, use of the color system, degrading if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, etc.

ANGST, Obviously (and not just because I am me lol), Eddie runs a rival gang in Hawkins and is in love with Steve (Romeo and Juliet style), Steve mentions being jumped and Eddie retaliates getting hurt in the process, mentions of murders by Eddie, Reader takes care of them both performing surgery on the gangster, guns are pulled and our boys are threatened, cliff hanger ending because I can.

Word Count: 8284

"Little girl gone, got a gun from a gangster Run little girl, run little girl, bang, ha."

“Officer Steve Harrington.”, you read from his chart as you enter the exam room before flashing him a big smile. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N. How can I help you today?”

“My, uh, Captain said I needed to come get a checkup. I was wounded in the line of duty a few days ago.”

“Oh no. I’m really sorry to hear that. May I ask what happened?”

“Does that matter?”, he snapped.

You dealt with sassy patients on the regular. It came with the territory especially in the area your office was located in. In this part of the city, your clinic usually catered to people who didn’t want to check in at a regular hospital because their name could get dinged for other offenses. You always felt like everyone deserved care so when you opened your clinic, you made sure to do what you could within the means and resources you had available. 

Officers normally never entered your building but within these past few months you had seen them more and more frequently. You had heard rumors of a new gang in the area trying to make things more…democratic…so there was less chaos in the streets but in turn that brought more of a police presence because most of the people around here hated being threatened into submission reacting violently if need be. 

Thankfully, you weren’t easily shaken so this admittedly good-looking man of the law raising his voice didn’t frighten you one bit. 

“It does if you want me to assess you properly.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I like to be polite at first. Now, are you going to tell me what happened or should I mark in your file here that you refused to answer so your Captain can deal with you?”

Steve’s amber eyes scanned you over briefly before a small smirk painted his beautiful lips. 

“I got jumped by one of the rival gangs in the area. Beat me up pretty good.” 

Sitting in your wheely chair, you slid toward him and carefully lifted off his shirt, his face wincing as he lifted his arms. Large purple bruises were splattered along his ribs and around to his back. Just from the wounds alone, you could tell he was kicked and punched repeatedly. His face had some scratches and swelling but it looked like nothing compared to his upper torso. 

“Oh wow. I’m so sorry. Did you go to the hospital?”

“I did. They did some X-rays and shit. Thankfully nothing was broken but, obviously, moving around has been hard.”

“Beside the bruising, have you experienced any other pain? Like a sharp stabbing pain in your side or anything like that?”

“Uh, no. Just emotional pain.”, he chuckles as his eyes look past you into a memory. 

“Ok, I’ll get you some medicine I think will help as well as some cream to sooth the pain of those bruises and swelling. I’ll be right back.”

You weren’t gone long but as you were returning you could vaguely hear his voice through the door between you both. 

“Naw, she said she’s going to get me some meds and shit…Baby! Seriously, you worry too much. I’m fine… No, NO. Don’t you dare go over there or I swear God—” Hastily, he hung up his phone when he heard you knock and reenter the room he was in. “Sorry. That was my, um, my boss checking in. Just reiterated what you told me.”

“Good. Now this will help with the pain…”, you instruct as you hand him some medication before flashing him the cream. “…and this will help with the swelling. Just put this on your bruises every six hours and you’ll be good to go in no time.”

Opening the bottle, you squeeze some of the medicine in your hand, and gently rub it along his admittedly muscular abs. 

“You’re, um, going to feel it tingle a bit and feel warm but after a few moments it will cool down.”

That smirk you saw previously appeared on his lips again when he caught you staring as your hands slowly rubbed along his skin. 

“That feels really good actually. Your hands not the cream.”

“Hm. I’m sure your girlfriend touches you enough.” Steve raises an eyebrow at your insinuation. “I mean unless you call your captain ‘baby’.”

A slightly nervous sigh leaves you as the officer’s grin grows and his eyes meet yours. 

“Hm. Bad girl listening in on my phone calls. Do you always misbehave like that?”

“This is my clinic, Officer Harrington. I can do whatever I want especially when I have signs everywhere that say, ‘No Cell Phones in the Exam Room.’”

His palm abruptly takes hold of your wrist, pulling you closer to him till your nose was just above his own.

“This may be your clinic, honey, but these are my streets. I keep order here.”

“I think the gangs here would disagree.”

“Pfft, like you know anything about what goes on out there.”, he spits as he lets you go.

After throwing a scowl his way, you pretend to be preoccupied with washing your hands.

“I know that when I first moved here, the fatality rate in this area was extremely high until that new gang leader took over the Munson crew. I believe, if the rumors are correct, the new boss is actually the son of the old leader Al Munson. Since the son has taken over, oddly enough, the streets have become safer. More kids come out to play and I’ve seen less addicts in the last couple of months.”

As you dry your hands and turn to face him, you notice the hardened look on the officer’s face as he listens to you speak.

“I also know there have been more of a police presence on this side of town as well. I’ve seen a lot of innocent civilians put in ambulances or worse due to the push back of change. Tell me, Officer Harrington, which side are you on? Which gang did that to you? The Munson’s or The Carver’s?”

“I’m on the side of peace. That’s my job.”, he seethes through gritted teeth.  

“Yeah… you’re good to go, officer. Have a nice day.”, you growl in annoyance as you leave the room without waiting for him to retort.

##############

Today had been an incredibly long day. After your appointment with Officer Harrington, you had back-to-back visits from so many clients just needing a little bit of help. Your mind was racing as you and your staff did what you could but the truth was you desperately needed more funding. You were running low on supplies and the equipment you had wasn’t the best. It killed you to see your patient’s sad faces when you strongly recommended they head to the nearest hospital for certain tests that you just couldn’t provide at that time. 

Your mind was still racing as you began to gather your things to head out for the evening which is most likely why you didn’t even hear him till you exited your office and were met with a gun pointed at your face. 

“Don’t be scared. I’m not…I’m not here to hurt you. We need help.”, Steve panted with a heavy breath as the weapon shook in his hand. He was still dressed in the uniform he was wearing when you last saw him but now it was stained in blood and sweat.

“I-I-I…”

Roughly, he took hold of your bicep and dragged you to your waiting room where another man was sitting with his head leaning against the wall. You knew he wasn’t a cop because he wasn’t dressed like the man beside you but instead in an expensive looking black suit with the white button up shirt underneath his jacket now stained with red. You noticed immediately his palm was holding his side and that area of his clothing was a darker shade than all the rest. 

“I can’t help with a wound like that. He needs a hospital.”

“Oh you don’t say?”, he snarled as he tugged you to his chest. “If I could have taken him to a fucking hospital I would have! But I brought him to you, now HELP HIM!”

“Steven!”, the long-haired man grumbled as he looked your way. “Be nice. She’s just being…honest. Right, sweetheart?” He sighs when you nod and tries to get to his feet but the officer is quicker, running to his side to help him stand. “See, the thing is, princess, if I go to a hospital I’ll die anyway…because they will put me…in jail especially after they find out…what-what I did tonight.”

“What did you do?”

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. He’s losing blood and fast!”

Swallowing nervously, you step forward to unbutton his shirt and examine the cut you found. He needed stitches as soon as possible and most likely a blood transfusion unless someone got to his wound fast enough. Gesturing them both to follow you, you power walk to an exam room and begin searching for supplies as Steve carefully places the man on the table. While he removes the bloody clothes from his top half, you prep a syringe.

“Is he allergic to anything?”

“No. What is that, that you’re giving him?”

“It’s a pain killer. It won’t be as strong as ones at a hospital but…”

As you stick the needle into his stomach just above his cut, he flinches causing Steve’s expression to flood with worry as he moves the man’s hair out of his face. After quickly cleaning the area, you let out a long sigh as you glance their way. 

“Even with the shot, this is going to hurt a lot I’m afraid. I’ll try to go as fast as I can but, officer, if you can distract him that may help.”

The man on the table chuckles as he turns his head towards his friend. 

“She keeps calling you ‘officer’. Did… you not tell her your name? Or did you… scare her too much to use it?” He cringes as he hisses once you begin sewing in his stitches. “You like to…pretend to be so badass…but we both know you’re a…sweetheart.”

“Pretend to be a badass, huh? You’re one to talk.”, Steve scolds in a light sounding tone as he softly places his forehead against his own. “Eddie, I told you not to go over there.”

“They tried to hurt what was mine…”, he growled low in his throat even making you pause for a moment before focusing again on your task. “They wanted to send a message, well, message received.”

“I could have handled it.”

Grabbing Steve’s cheeks roughly, he brings his lips to his own. 

“No one takes my things and NO ONE hurts what’s mine. You belong to me, baby, and I promised I’d keep you safe.”

Finishing his sutures, you bandage him up and wrap some gauze around his lower waist. 

“Thank you.”, he whispers exhaustedly as he extends his shaky hand towards you. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe and I promise neither of us are going to hurt you. I’m Edward Munson but you can call me Eddie.” Your eyes widen as you slowly back away from them causing Steve to rise to his feet. “Ah. I see you’ve heard of me. Then you know you can trust me.”

Eddie tries to stand as well but sways before Steve steadies him. 

“You…you should be in a hospital. That wound needs to be looked after and you need to rest.”

“I can take care of him.”

“Steve…”

“No. No you can’t. That’s why you brought him to me.”, you sass in frustration as you try to display an air of confidence. Both men scan you over as they try to get a read on you as you continue. “If you refuse to go to a hospital, then give me your address and I can come—”

“No. No addresses. We can’t have you giving it to the police.”

“Oh you mean you?!”

You and Steve square off, tightening your stances as you glare at each other until Eddie laughed beside you both. 

“Brave girl with attitude. I like it.”

“I don’t. Little girl needs to be put in her place.”

“I highly doubt you’re the man to do that.”, you sass.

“Yeah well good thing there’s two of us, honey, and trust me, whatever I start Eddie can definitely finish.”

Sighing, you fold your arms as you argue with the internal dialogue inside your head. 

“You can come to my apartment but I have one condition. After he heals, I never want to see either of you again.”

Their eyes meet for a moment before Eddie finally nods. 

“You have a deal, princess.”

############

“Um, I don’t have a spare room or anything but the couch is comfortable. Just make sure to stay on your back if you can.” Eddie nods as Steve places him down and hastily begins removing the gear attached to him. “Let me grab some blankets and pillows.”

Disappearing into your bedroom, you grab any extra bedding you had and began to head their way but paused when you heard them talking. 

“Why are you being mean to her? I thought you said she took care of you.”

“She did. I just… I was worried about you. It’s my job to take care of you to, honey.”

“And snapping at the woman who’s trying to help will do what exactly?” Steve laughs through his teeth at Eddie question. “I think it’s because you like her.”

“Pfft what?”

“Oh, look at Officer Harrington blushing.”, the long-haired man teases as he reaches out to touch the boy’s face. “I know I just met her and she was busy saving my life but I can see why…”, he chuckles before wincing as he grabs his side. 

“Are you alright?”, you ask as you come back to the living room and kneel down on your knees in front of him. 

“Yeah, I’m alright. I’ve been through way worse than this.”

You take quick note of his wound before handing Steve the things you found, watching with fascination as he tosses the things for him to the side before placing the pillow on his lap and guiding the man back to lay down. 

“If, um, if you notice it bleeding through or he starts getting a fever, come and get me immediately.” 

The officer nods as he throws the blanket over Eddie and comfortingly rests his hand on his chest, his thumb gently running along the man’s tattooed skin. 

***

Your alarm goes at 4am that morning, startling you as you shoot up right. Groggily, you shuffled to your bathroom and grabbed the items Eddie would need so you could change his bandages. Both men were fast asleep when you entered the living room, Steve still clinging to him with his other hand very close to where his gun was resting on the little table you had beside your couch. 

“Mr. Munson?”, you whisper as you sit on the coffee table across from them. When he didn’t stir you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to visually take in one of the most notorious gangsters in the city. You had never seen a picture of him and he definitely wasn’t what you pictured when you heard the rumors from people in the clinic. 

He did have an air of control surrounding him but his voice and face were incredibly soft especially when it came to Steve. You heard him get upset though so you imagined that amplified out in the streets and you hoped you never met that version of him. He had a lot of tattoos painting his upper torso that seemed completely random except for the symbol of his gang that was tattooed on many other men and women you had seen previously minus the tiny initials “S.H.” inscribed within the design. 

Eddie was fairly muscular appearing more toned in his abs and upper arms. Slightly blocking your view was Steve’s massive palm over his chest, almost as if that was his way to make sure the man was still breathing. He had been exceptionally rude with you but with the gangster, he transformed before your eyes, becoming softer and listening to everything the other man said without question. They both obviously seemed to care strongly about each other which you found slightly amusing given their slight Romeo and Juliet story; one being a cop and the other a criminal. 

“Mr. Munson.”

Extending your hand, you tried gently shaking his upper shoulder and in one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist and held you tightly as he raised his fist in the air prepared to defend himself. Swallowing nervously, you froze as his intense eyes scanned your own. 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t…” Eddie promptly let you go and winced as he sat up in front of you. 

“No, no. It’s ok. After what happened, I completely understand. I just need to check you out and rewrap your wound.”

“Would it be easier for you if we went to the table?”

“Oh, no, this is ok but I do have to turn on the light.”

Eddie follows your eyes as you glance towards Steve. 

“Trust me, it won’t bother him one bit. I don’t think he’s had a consistent night’s sleep since he was hurt.”

“How long have you two been involved?”, you ask as you begin the task in front of you hoping to distract him as well from the pain. 

“In my business or each other?”, he smirks when you breathily laugh. “Both answers are more or less the same. He had the balls to arrest me on a charge we both knew wouldn’t stick. I knew he was different when he tried to get me to flip sides and sell out my friends. Usually, cops knew better than to do that especially with me.”

The gangster paused when you tried to clean his cut, flinching as he gritted his teeth. 

“What happened? Did he take you in?”

“No, I did when I let him fuck me handcuffed in the back of his cruiser.”, he chuckled, slightly surprised when you did as well. “We’ve been watching out for each other ever since. He’s actually not as big of an asshole as he seems. Steve just has a big heart and wants to take care of everything himself. He likes to be the big, strong man, you know? That’s why he’s been so short lately.”

“What happened there? He didn’t tell me; just said he was jumped.”

“I don’t think that’s something you should know. The less we tell you the better.”

“Mr. Munson, you, a well-known Mafia style gang leader, showed up at my clinic after hours with a police officer bleeding out. I think that line has been crossed.”, you grin up at him finding his eyes watching you again. “I assume it was someone from Carver’s side. You told Steve something about them sending a message.”

“Yeah… Jason Carver isn’t exactly a fan of mine even more so since I took over. My dad was always a…shoot first ask questions later which is why he’s in jail right now. He was sloppy and greedy like Jason. I don’t want to hurt people I don’t have to.” Leaning forward, you start wrapping the gauze around him but you can’t help to inhale the strong scent of cigarettes and cologne. You don’t see it but his own head tilts slightly, inhaling your shampoo from the night before when you finally had time for a shower and the regular smells of your office that attached to your skin. 

Eddie’s lips ever so slightly grazed your shoulder that was exposed due to the tank top you were currently wearing causing you to shutter softly as you pulled back to cut the bandage. 

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”, he asked in a low tone that had you exhaling as you tried to maintain your composure. 

“Mr. Munson, I work in a city filled with crime and scared citizens. I don’t really have the luxury of being afraid.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Calloused fingers reached out to grip the bottom of your chin and forced your eyes to meet his. “Even though I take no pleasure in it, I have hurt and killed people. I killed two people just last night. Carver got the idea in his head that roughing up the man I love would have me submitting to him and his whims. I’m not the submissive type and I made sure he knew that by slitting the throats of the two men that put hands on him. I don’t regret it and I’d do it again.”

“How did you get hurt then?”

“Unfortunately, Carver isn’t an idiot. He had more men appear and try to take us out. Steve showed up and someone pulled a knife… Let’s just say that someone got in a good attempt before I snapped his neck.”

The way he spoke about such violent things was so even, almost as if he could be reading from a grocery list. This was his every day and you could tell by his tone he knew it would continue to be. But there was something about him… something that made you feel safe. 

“No, I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Munson.”

“I think under the circumstances, you can call me Eddie.”

A cell phone ringing pulled you both apart but didn’t stir the man it belonged to as he continued to snore with his head leaning over the back of the couch. 

“Steve. Steven.”, the man called as he shook his arm rousing him from his deep sleep. “Your phone is ringing.”

Without opening his eyes, the officer reached into his pocket, producing his device, and placing it to his ear as he answered with gravelly “yeahs” and “mhmms”. 

“I have to go in. Someone called in about the shooting on the eastside and they found Carver’s guys.” Rubbing his eyes and as if he forgot you were there, Steve tenderly kissed Eddie’s lips before rising to his feet and putting on all of his gear once more. “Please keep an eye on him and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I have to go to work.” Pausing, he exhaled heavily as he turned and flashed you an annoyed look. “I have to. It would look weird if I didn’t. I’ve never missed a day but if we leave early enough…I can bring him with me and keep him in my office.”

“Is it ok to move him that much?”

As if to prove a point, Eddie rose to his feet. 

“I’ll be ok. I’m a quick healer. Don’t worry about us.”

###############

Thankfully, you didn’t have too many patients today so you were able to keep yourself locked in your office with the gangster you were attempting to hide. As soon as you brought him in, he fell asleep on your office couch, allowing you to leave him be so you could do what you needed. 

As you were reading a chart however you heard giggling in the exam room beside your office and quickly went to investigate, finding Eddie sitting next to a child on the exam table making her laugh. 

“Look, princess, you can’t trick me like that.”

“It’s thumb war! You have to be stronger.”

“Ok, best two out of three.”

“Kylie, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”, you beam trying not to startle either of them. 

“Hey Dr. Y/L/N! My mom told me to come down to see if you had any more samples of my inhaler.”

“Oh, honey. I don’t. I’m so sorry. I usually try and save one for you but I had another patient who had an emergency so I had to give it to him.”

“Why do you need an inhaler? Is it for the other people whose breath you take away because you’re so adorable?”

Kylie giggles as she turns towards Eddie and blushes. 

“No! I have asthma. My mommy brings me here to get my medicine because we can’t afford the stores.”, she sighs as her head hangs.

The man’s eyes meet your sympathetic ones before softly smiling and giving the little girl his attention again. 

“Hey. Can you keep a secret?” The small child nods in earnest making his smile widen. “Have you heard of a little convenience store called Cunningham’s Corner? It’s about a 5-minute walk from here. Go to that store and ask for Chrissy. Tell her Eddie sent you and you need an inhaler. She’ll give it to you for free.”

Kylie’s eyes widen as if this man just told her a fairytale.

“Free?”

“Mhmm. But you can’t tell anyone! Because then other people will take advantage.”

After giving him a hug, she jumps down from the table and starts to head for the door. 

“Hey! Here. Give Miss Cunningham this paper when you tell her what you need, ok?”, you instruct as you hand her a prescription with the name of what she needs. 

“Ok. Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N!”

“Thank you. That was really nice of you.”

Rising from his seat, he waddles with you back to your office. 

“It’s not a problem. I heard her coughing and crying so I wanted to make sure she was alright. Is she a regular?”

“Yeah and, unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for her to come by herself. Her mom is a single mother who works 60hrs a week trying to make ends meet. They came to me when she started having her symptoms but there’s only so much I can do here with my resources.”

“Are you underfunded?”

“Yeah. I do what I can but because of where I’m located…”

“Why don’t you move to a better location?”

“I can’t do that. I can’t leave these people. They need someone to help them since a regular clinic would immediately turn them away since a lot of them have no money or no insurance.”

“You’re a very kind woman, Y/N.”

Flashing him a smile, a knock makes you jump as you quickly get up to see who it is. 

“It’s Hawkins PD Detective Jim Hopper. I’d like to have word with you for a moment.”

Right as you scan your room, Eddie hides himself in front of you against the wall so he wouldn’t be seen when you finally open the door between you and the gentleman.

“May, uh, my we come in?”

“We?”, you ask as your eyes flick to the wide, stern eyes of Steve behind him. “What’s this about, detective?”

“I don’t know if you heard but we had a gang related fight in the area and we got some intel that Edward Munson may have been severally wounded.”

“Ok? And what does that have to do with me?”

“It wasn’t far from your clinic so we thought, maybe, you heard something or saw something?”

“What time was this?”

“Around 7-8pm.”

“My clinic closes at 6 so—”

“I mean, as a doctor though I’m sure you work late hours—”

“Not last night.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie mime with his hand for you to calm down a bit and you close your eyes as you sigh before responding again. “I’m sorry, Officers. It’s just been a rough week. I left early last night to come in early this morning and do some work. I haven’t heard or seen anything but I can be on the lookout.”

Hopper nods, tilting his hat as he begins to walk away. 

“I’m just going to give her some details and information so she knows what to be on the lookout for exactly.”, Steve informs his colleague who confirms before disappearing to lean against the waiting room desk. 

Pulling out his notepad, he steps closer to you pretending to write things down. 

“Where is he?”, Steve whispers, smirking when your eyes flick to the side. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You like it.”, Eddie murmurs. “Should we be worried?”

“No, a few of Carver’s guys are in the morgue.” 

You had seen many people come and go during your time as a physician so when the officer shook his head looking away down the hallway, you could tell he was lying. 

“What aren’t you telling him?”

Steve’s angry, amber eyes met yours as an annoyed grunt left his lips. 

“Nothing. Stay in your lane, doctor.”

“Hey.”, Eddie growled low beside you. “Watch your tone. You wouldn’t keep anything from me would you, Steven?”

“I was questioned this morning seeing as how I was jumped and then suddenly men from Carver’s gang show up dead.”, the cop sighs. “I told you not to go over there.”

You could feel the tension rising between them but you were still being watched and couldn’t risk the gangster being seen. Eddie was slipping to far in his own frustration to think that far as he began pushing off the wall to scold his partner but you quickly placed your hand on his chest lightly pushing him back down. 

“Did you get in trouble?”

“No.”, he responds to your question. “But I am being watched a lot closer hence the detective.”

“And your bruises?”

“Huh?”

“You were hurt to. Is the medicine helping at all?”

Steve’s eyes take in your face clocking in your genuine concern. 

“It is actually. Thank you.” When you smile back at his answer a tooth filled grin paints his features. “I, um, I should be done here by about 7 or so. I’ll head to your place, come get him, and then…we’ll be out of your hair.”

#############

“Ok, so, make sure to keep this clean and if you find yourself in any excruciating pain or like I told Steve if you get a fever come back to me so I can take a look.”

“Hm. I thought you never wanted to see us again.”, Eddie teased as he carefully put back on the shirt you gave him. 

“I don’t but that doesn’t mean I want you to get sick or die or whatever.”

The gangster’s smile grew as he watched you blush. 

“How come you don’t have a boyfriend or husband or whatever?”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“Because if you were our girl, there’s no way I would have gone two days without calling or checking in and I’d definitely have something to say if I found two men sleeping here.”

“Our girl?”

“Oh, sweetheart. Any woman I date is with Steve as well and most can barely handle my attitude and temper let alone both of ours.”

“You seem nice enough to me.”

“I can be mean when I want to be.”

“I’m always busy…to answer your question. A lot of relationships I’ve had can’t handle my schedule.”

“Hm, I understand that. Steve and I have conflicting schedules all the time.” Eddie’s eyes watch you as you gather the trash from cleaning his cut and head towards the trashcan to avoid his gaze. “But we make time for each other. That’s what you do when you care about someone.”

“Yeah, well, I guess no one really cares about me.”, you sassily smirk as you sigh and wash your hands in the sink. 

Feeling the energy shift, you turn coming chest to chest with the man himself.

“I care about you. Steve cares about you.”

“I’m pretty sure Officer Harrington hates me.”, you giggle but it tapers off when his face remains stoic.

“He doesn’t. He wouldn’t have brought me to you if he didn’t trust you.”

“You don’t know me, Eddie.”

“I know enough.” 

Shaking your head, you laugh again trying to lighten the intense atmosphere as you begin to walk back towards the living room but his hand promptly grabs your bicep and moves you till your standing in front of him once more. 

“You saved me and helped him. I just watched you all day take care of people who can’t normally afford care. You have a kind heart and you’re extremely beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know how beautiful you are?”

A knock on your door startled you but not him as he continued to stare down at you waiting for an answer. Silently, you allowed Steve entry who immediately took in your rattled appearance. 

“Everything ok?”

“Mhmm. I was just asking Y/N if she knew how beautiful she was.”

His gorgeous, honey hues widen slightly as if he was surprised before turning his attention back to you. 

“You know you are, right?”

“I-I think you both should leave.”, you whisper with little to no confidence in what you were saying. 

“Is that what you want?”, he mused as he strolled further into your apartment. “Because we can leave right now and like you asked, disappear from your life forever. Or, maybe, you can let us thank you properly.”

“I thought you didn’t like me…said you wanted to put me in my place.”

They both chuckle making your face turn a deep crimson in embarrassment.

“Baby, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. It just means that I think I’d have a lot of fun playing with you.”

“Playing with me?”

Steve subtly nods his head as Eddie slowly moves closer to the living room where you two were standing. 

“Teasing you, kissing you, taking care of you…taking control of you and your gorgeous body till you’re begging me to let you cum.” Tilting his head, his eyes meet yours as his fingers caress your face. “When’s the last time you had someone take care of you?”

The other man comes up behind you, sandwiching you between them as he gently places his palm on your stomach under your blouse. 

“I asked you something, honey.”

“It’s been a while.”, you jest making Steve smirk as Eddie stepped closer to you till your back was to his chest. His hand continued to run along your skin with his fingers just barely floating under the waistband of your pants before coming back up to rub your stomach. “I’m scared.”

Everyone freezes in place at your words but as the gangster tries to drop his hand, you quickly catch it and hold it in place back on your tummy. 

“Of us?”, he asks.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Resting his head on your shoulder, his palm wonders again this time going further as you feel him slide into your underwear and cup his hand around your heat. 

“You won’t, sweetheart. I promise, you’re safe with us. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“And neither will I. I can protect you from getting in any kind of trouble with the law or anything like that. You have two men here who control both sides of the coin…” As Steve’s voice dropped into a more and more seductive register, Eddie’s lips gently pecked your shoulder and up to your neck as his finger graze your clit while gliding them through your folds.

“You just need to let go and let us control you.”

“Fuck.”, you groaned as he slid two of his digits into your core.

“Is that a yes?”, Steve chuckles sassily as he watches your eyes close as you lean your head against his boyfriend.

“I think so, Harrington, because pretty girl here is just dripping all over my hand.”

“Yeah? We need to hear her say it though. Do you want us to take care of you tonight, honey?”

“H-He—mmm—Eddie can’t with his…with his cut.”

“Oh trust me, Y/N, that won’t be an issue. Now answer my question, please.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want you to take care of me.”

As if they could read each other’s minds, Eddie’s hand slipped out of your pants and Steve picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried you to your bedroom. 

“Ow! Something in your vest is stabbing me, Officer Harrington.”, you giggle before he tosses you onto your mattress. 

“Sorry. I forgot to take this stuff off. I was blindsided by a stupid question when I came in.”, he grinned as he began removing his equipment and placed them on your bedside table. 

Eddie carefully climbed in and you hastily set up pillows so he could lean back comfortable against your headboard. 

“Thank you. I don’t think that question was ever answered. DO you know how beautiful you are?”

“Sometimes I need reminding.”, you sigh as your nervous eyes meet his soft ones. 

“We can do that, sweetheart.”

Taking hold of your cheeks, he brought your lips to his and your body ignited with an electricity you had never felt before as his lips carefully but firmly mingled with yours. Steve’s laugh echoed through your room as he looped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the gangster to bring you in front of him at the edge of the bed. 

He had taken off his shirt and out of habit as a doctor you scanned his bruises to make sure he was ok. Clocking your care once again, his fingers gripped your chin and brought your mouth to his own.

“It’s ok. I’m still a bit sore but you helped me a lot.”

As he continued to kiss your lips, you allowed him to undress you making him pause when you were fully naked in front of them. 

“Jesus Christ.”

“I told you, princess…beautiful.”, Eddie grinned.

Smiling widely at their compliments, your hands roamed Steve’s chest, kissing a trail along the way till you reached his belt and fumbled with the barrier before fully pushing down his pants. You gasped when his cock sprang free causing them both the chuckle again as you practically gapped at the size. 

“I know. It was a shock to me to.”, the gangster teased as the officer stuck out his tongue playfully. 

“You liked it. And I promise, honey, you’ll like it to.”

Gripping the base, he held his mushroom tip towards your lips and moaned when your tongue darted out to lick the small beads of precum that had begun to leak. Steve pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail so he could watch as you slowly wrapped your mouth around him and gradually began bobbing your head.

 “Shit. Atta girl. Flatten that tongue. J-Just like that.”

Another set of hands softly ran down you back and over your ass before the cool sting of metal hit your behind. 

“Did you like that, pretty girl? Did you like Eddie spanking you?”, the officer asked when you moaned loudly. 

Fingers glided ever so slightly through your pussy lips and even you couldn’t deny hearing the squishy sound of your slick that obscenely filled your bedroom. 

“Oh Stevie. She definitely enjoyed that.”

“Yeah? You like it a bit rough, little girl?”

Eddie guided his middle and ring fingers inside of you eliciting a mewl from your throat that had the man inside of your mouth grunting with pleasure. 

“Fuck. I think…I think you can take me a bit deeper.”

Thrusting his hips a bit, you gag around him spilling drool and spit down his length as you mentally take note of the fact that that wasn’t all of him you choked on. 

“Come on, honey, take more. I know you can, baby.”

Tears stream down your face as you try but barely take more of him in. Gripping your jaw, he pulls out of your mouth and leans his face in front of yours as his eyes search yours. 

“Green, good. Yellow, slow down. Red, stop. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Fuck… green.”

“Ok, then why are you crying? We haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“I-I-I wanna take more. I want to make you feel good to.”

You heard your tone as it came out of your mouth but you barely recognized it. You sounded like a child who was told she couldn’t play outside because it was raining. What was it about these men that transformed you in this way? In relationships or even one-night stands, you never cared about this kind of thing. Usually, men never complained and you were never fully satisfied after they left resorting to your vibrator to get you the rest of the way. 

But for whatever reason, you wanted to impress them. You desperately wanted them to feel good because some part of you had a feeling that they were going to do the same for you. 

Steve’s eyes softened as Eddie’s fingers slowed inside of you. 

“Be nice to her, babe. She’s got a good heart and she did take care of us.”

“Can you keep your mouth open for me, pretty girl?” He grins when you nod your head, wiping your tears with his thumb before kissing your cheek. “And you are making me feel good. Your mouth feels fucking amazing.”

You beam with pride as you do what he asked, whimpering when Eddie began building you up again. 

Holding your head still, Steve guided his cock back between your lips, doing the slow thrusts he was doing before as you kept your mouth closed around him. Your eyes squeezed shut as his pace began to quicken, his tip occasionally hitting the back of your throat. 

“There you go, baby. T-That’s it. See? Doing—fuck—doing so well. Now, stay still.”

As he began fucking your face, the gangster matched his pace making you groan as obscenities flowed from the officer’s mouth.  

“Shit. Take it, little girl. That’s right. You love the taste of my cock in your throat, don’t you?” Reaching over you, his hand calm down hard on your ass and your palm pushed at his legs signaling you needed air. “Are you gonna cum? Ask him, Y/N. Ask Eddie if it’s ok.”, he commanded as he forced your head towards the other man. 

“Eddie, please. Please… can I…”

“Yeah, princess. Cum on my fingers.”

You collapsed as you came, moaning loudly into the mattress as you tried to catch your breath. You weren’t given much time however as Steve manhandled you till you up on your hands and knees again with your face hovering over the bulge in the other man’s pants. 

After unbuckling his belt, he pushed them down just enough to free his own cock from his denim confinement and you didn’t hesitate as you wrapped your tiny hands around his thick girth. Hands clung tightly to your waist and you braced yourself when you felt Steve collect some of your arousal with his length before gradually pushing into your entrance. 

“Oh, fuck me.”

“How does she feel, Harrington?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to focus on the man in front of you, letting a long glob of spit land on his tip as you stroked it with your hand. 

“S-So…So fucking tight.” His palm came down on your ass and you groaned as he continued to push further inside of you. 

“I like my view here. Make—mmm—make sure you fuck her nice and deep. Beautiful girl deserves it after everything she’s been through.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. I plan on ruining this little pussy.”

Eddie chuckles as he watches Steve lick his lips as your cunt tightens around him at his words. 

“What about you, princess?”, he murmurs as he tenderly pets your head.

“He’s…so BIG.”

“Yeah, he is. Does he feel good?” You nod as your head hangs and he promptly grabs your jaw forcing you to look his way. “Say it.”

“Fuck, Steve, you feel so fucking good!”

“That’s a good girl.”

You mewled when you felt him bottom out, his hips connecting with yours, allowing you to feel every inch before he pulled back and slammed back into you. Eddie’s mouth fell open as you bobbed your head on his cock. While he wasn’t as big as his boyfriend, he was definitely thicker and you felt like your mouth was full of him. 

He was much gentler with you, continuing to play with your hair and mutter praises as Steve pounded into you, rocking you further down the gangster’s length as you choked and spit around him. 

“God, honey, this pussy is too…fucking…good.”, Steve grunted, smacking his lower half into yours between each word. Leaning over you, he rolled his hips, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt as your eyes rolled back. “His dick tastes amazing, doesn’t it? Mmm—fucking love when he shoves it down my throat.”

Moving out of his way, Steve envelopes Eddie into his mouth making the gangster moan as he extends his hand to tangle in his hair. As his boyfriend continued to fuck you, your own groans vibrated against the long haired boy’s balls driving him crazy as he growled through his clenched teeth. 

“Fuck! You’re both so fucking sexy. That’s it, baby boy, take my cock.”

After pumping his hips a few times, Eddie let him go and Steve pushed up onto his knees pounding into you till you were seeing stars. Taking the man’s length in your mouth again, you mimicked the other boy’s movements trying to keep a steady pace as you hurdled towards the edge. 

“A-Are you about to cum? Fuck, Y/N, you better fucking ask one of us, little girl, if you want to fucking cum!”

Your glassy, needy eyes met the chocolate ones of the man in front of you, pleading as you began to shake.

“Ask, Y/N.”

“Please, Eddie! Please, I need to cum!”

Taking a hold of your hair, he firmly tugged you till your face was fully visible. A small smile flickered across his lips, watching you struggle till he finally nodded granting you permission. 

Steve reached around and took hold of your throat, lifting you till you were pressed against him, squeezing you tightly as he fucked you through the most intense orgasm you had ever had. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Are you on the pill?”, Steve roughly growled in your ear, his rhythm and intensity increasing when you said yes. “Good because I’m going to fill up this pussy and you’re going to take it like a good little girl. You’re going to take everything I give you and be fucking thankful.”

He grunted in your ear as he held your lower half against him as he rolled his hips aggressively, pumping his release into your cunt.

“Steve.”, Eddie called in a firm tone you barely heard through your haze.

“Excuse me, honey.”

Carefully, he pulled his softening cock out of your aching hole and gently laid you on your side before crawling up the gangster’s legs and taking him into his mouth. You watched with hooded eyes as his boyfriend took him all the way down his shaft, massaging his balls with his palm, as Eddie groaned.

“That’s my good boy. You wanna swallow my cum?”

Steve nodded as his eyes met his own and with a few thrusts of Eddie’s hips, his head fell back as he released his spend down the man’s throat. After sharing a soft but passionate kiss, they turned their attention to you.

“Are you ok, babe? Do you need anything? Water?”

“Will you lay with me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, of course.”

You didn’t even hesitate when you scoot to Eddie’s side and wrapped your arms around your stomach, placing your head on his chest. The last thing you remember is feeling warmth behind you and the sound of Steve’s steady breathing on your skin before you fell asleep.

***

“DID YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THERE WOULD BE NO CONSEQUENCES?!”

Your head shot up when you heard shouting in your living room. Eddie and Steve were missing but the voice you heard definitely wasn’t theirs. Quickly throwing on the officer’s shirt you listened as the voice continued.

“Did you really think you could come on to our territory, break into one of our stash houses, and kill a bunch of our guys?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how easy it was for me and my guys to break in.”, Eddie responded angrily. 

“Shut the fuck up, trailer trash! You think because you moved out here and took over Al’s business, you’re different but you aren’t. You’re still that garbage that he left behind with his brother before you suddenly decided you wanted in. Ah ah ah! Don’t make me shoot you, Steve. I have no problem killing a law man.”

“If you’re not here to kill us, Andrew, then what do you want?”, Steve spat.

Glancing quickly around the room, you realize his gun was still in its holster near your nightstand and as quietly as you could pulled it from its home. Tip toeing out into the hallway, you held it in front of you as you peaked around the corner. 

The person you didn’t recognize had his back to you as he pointed his own pistol at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands raised where he could see them. 

“Jason just wants Edward so we can make an example of him and what happens when you cross the Carvers.”

“I think you underestimate the Munsons, Andy.” Slowly, you creeped up behind him, praying he wouldn’t turn around. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere. I hope Jason understands that this wasn’t a good move.”

“Yeah well, you can tell him yourself. Now come on or I will shoot him.”, Andrew threatens as he points his weapon Steve.

“Not if we shoot you first.”

At Eddie’s words, you cock the gun and pull the trigger.

##############

[beautifulpaprika]

Rage; Jungkook

Pairing: serialkiller!fem!reader x cleaner!jungkook

Warnings: smut :), mentions of blood, mentions of murder

Summary: Y/N holds a lot of rage for men who betray her. She's killed ex-boyfriends over and over without a second thought. Her friend, Eileen, grows worried for her and resorts to bringing back her first love to get Y/N back to her senses.

Word count: 4.1k

Y/N

I press my fingers into his cold skin. His unmoving eyes look into mine and I smile. 

“Maybe you’ll think twice in hell before you stay out all night,” I tell him, dragging a nail down his stubble, “But at least you won’t be here to torture me anymore.” 

I finally stand and take out my phone, dialing Eillen’s number. My finger drags across his desk in the corner of his living room where a photo of him and I sit. I recall the memory of us going to his grandmother’s birthday and he introduced me to all his dear friends and family. Little did they know he was a sneak and a liar! 

A buzzing in my mind rackets through my head then the sound of glass shattering pulls me out of my anger and the picture frame hits the ground.

“Y/N?” Eilleen calls through the phone. 

“Eileen!” I put on a smile hearing my best friend’s voice. 

“It’s midnight. What-“

”It happened again,” I say, crouching back to my ex’s dead body. There's silence on the other side. “You know what he told me yesterday? ‘Oh, I don’t wanna go out with my friends! I’ll be so worried about you!’,” I scoff. “Well, that was a lie,” I give a small kick to the corpse, “Not a call. Or text. Or-“

”How long are you going to do this?” She asks, her voice a whisper. I think on the question, contemplating the answer and whether I should tell her the truth or what she wants. 

“Eileen, they deserve it! Every single one. Don’t forget I used this power for you too,” I argue, recalling Peter Fent. A disaster they called a man who tortured my best friend relentlessly. Even thinking about his face wants to make me vomit. 

“And you know I regret that! We shouldn’t have-“ 

“Eileen. We’ve been on the receiving end of this hurt so many times, and what happens to them? Nothing!” Tears well up in my eyes when I think of all of my past experiences in the dating world. “So, I’ll do it.”

”Aren’t you tired?” She asks. “Instead of purposely looking for those sour ones, why not find someone who can treat you well? Someone you can settle down with? You don’t have to go around playing vigilante!” 

The truth is I am tired. If he had just told me who he was going with! Or even letting me know he was okay! But he didn’t care about me and that’s clear in the fact he was ignoring me. 

“I’m going to send you an address,” I tell her matter of factly, not letting her respond or say no. “Send your guy and I’ll have his money by tomorrow.” Before she can say anything else, I press the red button, cutting her off of any noise. 

“Rest easy, my love,” I kiss my man on the forehead and wave to him as I leave. 

I wait until I’m outside and walking down the long driveway. The crickets call to me, cheering on as I swipe through the dating app. Left, left, left, right, left, right. The moon shines it’s spotlight on me, the crickets continue to cheer, and I search for my next catch. 

*** 

Jungkook

“I’m glad we get to talk in proper conversation for once,” Eileen slides in the booth across from me. She looks neither happy nor upset to see me. 

“I have to say, seeing you brings both good and bad memories,” I admit. Eileen was Y/N’s best friend. Or is? I don’t keep up too much with too many people from my past. Especially not best friends of my exes.

“I admit that I feel the same way,” she’s about to say more when a waitress walks over asking for our drinks. I take that moment to think of all the questions I have - the first being why I was invited here. 

The waitress walks away, her eyes lingering on me as she walks. 

“I need your help,” Eileen whispers, her face closer to mine from across the table. 

“Why me?”

“I think you’re the only one who can help her. She’s-” we’re interrupted again by the same waitress setting down our cokes. 

“Ready to order?” she asks.

“Just the drinks, thanks,” I say. She looks slightly disappointed and Eileen doesn’t try hiding her rolling eyes. I give her a sheepish smile and she finally walks away. 

“Nothing much has changed with you, huh?” she keeps her eyes on the back of the girl walking away. Memories of girls flirting with me while Y/N was around comes to the forefront of my mind. 

“We won’t focus on that. You said you needed help, so what is it?” I take a long sip of the carbonated drink. 

“You’ve probably already guessed this is about Y/N.” I don’t tell her that I have. “She’s been having,” she pauses, “issues,” her face winces at the word. It intrigues me enough to lean in more. “Her love life is complicated,” she laughs, “And you’re the only person I can think of where she holds no resentment towards.” 

The mention of Y/N’s love life gives me chills. The thought of her with someone else, despite it being so many years, is a punch to the gut. I imagine her eyes near- shut while she’s laughing to some other guy’s joke. I imagine her holding him tight when they’re watching a movie. I imagine the headboard hitting the wall over and over again when he-

“I know it’s weird to ask this of you,” Eileen’s voice brings me out of the infuriating images, “but if you have any interest in seeing her again, or. . . anything,” there’s a desperation to her voice and before she can say anything else - 

“Yes.” 

She’s silent for a moment. 

“You’re willing to meet her?” her jaw hangs over her drink. 

“I wanna see her again. I really do,” I add the most sincerity that I can to my voice, because if Eileen is asking for her then she must not have a partner right now. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend, right?” I double-check.

“No. No not at all. She just went through a really, really,” she gulps, “bad break-up.” That makes me worry a bit. “But she’ll be happy to see you,” her head moves up and down quickly. I start wondering what exactly it is I’m getting myself into. 

***

Y/N

It seems that Eileen has come around. I was going through many boring messages of “You showered without me?”’s and “What’s your favorite season?”’s, when my best friend’s name appeared at the top saying “I think I have the perfect man for you. One I’m certain you won’t boot into oblivion ;)”

It made my day to know Eileen isn’t as upset with me. Not only that, but she’s making my life a lot easier with setups. 

The smell of bread and garlic wafts my face when I open the door to the pizzaria. 

My phone vibrates. A message appearing from an unknown number:

This is Y/N, right? 

I’m your date tonight. <3

I went ahead and got a table for us. Let me know when you’re here. 

Hm. Nice punctuation and he’s early? Eileen should set me up more often. 

I’m here 🙂 In the blue dress.

I look around, waving off the host in the process. I don’t spot anyone making eye contact with me, that is until I look to my right where a man in a black button up and black dress pants is walking towards me. His steps slow when we make eye contact and I almost collapse to the ground. 

This is a joke. Eileen has lost her fucking mind and decided this would be funny. 

“Don’t,” I whisper. I cover my mouth when it comes out too raspy and hold a hand out to stop him. I feel the sting in my eyes and my embarrassment heightens. The smell of Italian food is gone and the fresh air and city noise drowns me. 

“Y/N,” the voice comes behind me. 

“No!” I move through people on the sidewalk looking at us.

“Y/N, stop!” 

But I don’t. 

A grip on my arm pulls me back and my back meets the hard, brick wall. People are no longer looking, most likely thinking Jungkook is not one to be messed with by the ink adorning his arms and his neck. But I already know he isn’t dangerous. 

“What was that?” his breath fans my face. 

“What did Eileen say to you, hm? That you need to fix me?” I push on his chest, but it has little to no effect on him other than making him annoyed. 

“She approached me,” he says, and I scoff, “Let me finish,” his voice is calm. “I am the one who wanted to see you. Me! I wasn’t forced. I wasn’t paid. I wanted to do this.” 

“You’re lying!”

”I’m not.” 

“Why would you want to see me? I’m the one who broke up with you. I left you. Don’t you hold any resentment?” my face starts stinging again and the tears well in my eyes at the thought of him calling me for months after I told him I didn’t want him anymore. After I lied to him.

His mouth opens and I anticipate the words “I do hate you” ready to leave him. 

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” his voice is low. I chuckle. 

”Why? Are you embarrassed?” 

“Y/N. You know I’ve never felt embarrassed about you. Not back then and not now.” I believe him. But I don’t want to. “Please, can we go somewhere?” His hand rests on my cheek so naturally. I imagine myself falling into him and going back to how we were before.

***

”This is it,” I say waving him inside my apartment. 

His head moves up, down, left, and right examining every bit and it gives me time to examine him in return. How his shoulders are broader, his hair a bit messier, and those tattoos that weren’t there before. Even the way he walks is different. He was always handsome, but now he’s ethereal. 

“Your place looks better than mine,” he laughs. Just another thing to add to the list of things that Jungkook does that makes me melt. “We already knew you’d be the better decorator,” it aches to think about the times when we talked about buying our own place or the past at all. 

The two years I had been with Jungkook were my best years. He was so attentive and I never had to worry if he was around. I only had to say something once and he was very considerate of my needs. Not a single complaint came out of his mouth and that was what one day led to my biggest worry. I started to doubt everything that he did for me because I could not uncover the why. 

He was the best boyfriend I’d ever had and yet made me so insecure because I couldn’t understand why he was being so nice. 

“You can have a seat anywhere,” I tell him. He follows me to the kitchen where a small dining table sits by the wall. ”What all has Eileen told you about me?” I ask while pouring the two cups of water. I place one in front of him and sit across the table. 

“She told me you just needed a bit of help. The rest I don’t remember ‘cause I was focused on the fact I would get to see you again,” a smirk appears on his lips. “I am not disappointed. You’re more beautiful than before,” his eyes meet mine causing my chest to constrict. I’ve been searching for this feeling of being wanted, and while my other boyfriends have given me that feeling (may they rest in peace), it only lasted for the first date. With Jungkook, it was constant. 

“You’re more handsome than ever,” his smile reaches his eyes at the compliment. A laugh escapes me.

”What?”

 “I’m just wondering what the catch is,” his head tilts, “Are you married? You’re looking for a place to stay? You have a gambling addiction and you need money? Why would you want to come back to me?” He laughs at my questions, but the image of him being married to someone else pushes me to take a sip of water at the heat boiling inside. 

“Well, the answer is none of the above. I do have a catch, though. I’m not sure how honest you want me to be.” 

“You know I want you to always be honest with me. The most you can,” I think of the liars in the past whose bodies are lying graves now. 

“I’m obsessed with you,” his tone is serious and he isn’t smiling like he was before. “I can’t touch another girl without thinking ‘What if this had been Y/N?’” My heart doesn’t seem to know what to do with this information. “You can probably already guess I’ve been searching for you for a very long time. After a while of trying to call you, I guess you changed your number and I couldn’t contact you anymore.”

I recall changing my number, not wanting to be upset every time I looked at my phone and his number would always pop up. It caused regret for weeks and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. 

“I won’t lie and say I haven’t researched much about you. When Eileen contacted me I had already been in the city,” he moves to get up from his chair and rounds the table to me. A warmth seeps from his hand to my cheek. I relax into the familiarity of his touch. “I’ve been in the city for a long time,” he leans in and I mirror him, wondering if he’s going to kiss me, but he moves to my ear instead. “Who do you think cleans up all of your messes?” 

I jerk backwards in my seat. 

“What did you just say?” I whisper. 

“You never believed me when I said I would do anything for you. I was telling the truth, Y/N. I think I’ve proven myself whenever I cleaned your spilled blood,” his words leave me speechless. My throat is dry and my tongue is heavier sitting in my mouth. The new information leaves me spinning. It’s all too quick for me to process in one day. 

“I need a minute,” I push him aside and make my way past the living room and down the hall into my bedroom. Drowsiness takes me and I lie down on the bed, resting my eyes. 

***

Light bleeds through my eyelids, eyes staring down at me. 

“Y/N? Was I boring you too much?” That deep, familiar voice says. Jungkook has a smirk painted on his face and I’m in disbelief that I took a nap! 

I pick myself up making sure I’m still in my apartment. Jungkook is unpredictable in my eyes now that he’s fessed up to everything. 

“I brought some water in case you were still feeling faint,” he picks up a bottle from the night stand with a few crackers sitting next to it. He still does the same thing that he always has when I feel sick. 

“Jungkook . . .”

“You can’t say this is crazy,” he chuckles. “You’ve killed people before. We’re practically a team already.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think I would personally know who else is involved in these shenanigans,” I feel faint again imagining him drag bodies down stairs and mopping spilled blood. 

“You mean the shenanigans you created?”

“I mean me not letting any man lie, cheat, steal, or cause any form of harm to me again. Not without paying consequences. That includes you,” I say, not sure if it is a threat when I do, but knowing I’ve set my boundary with him. Whether I truly want that boundary is up in the air. 

“And have I ever done any of that to you?” He asks the question with worry on his face rather than trying to find ways to defend himself. I can’t look him in the eye when he asks the question because I don’t have an answer that would prove him wrong. 

“You made me nervous,” I say, my voice quiet. The embarrassment is palpable. “You were always handsome and everyone around us knew it,” I finally look up at him. “I’m not saying I didn’t think I was beautiful enough for you, I mean look at me,” I gesture to myself and he laughs but nods in agreement. “But there was that one night you were talking to your friends. You made all these plans before with them, and then I heard you say ‘I’m gonna have to change everything now that I have Y/N.’ Do you remember that?” 

His eyes narrow as he thinks but it seems to click when he’s about to respond. \

“I didn’t realize how much I was holding you back until then. We were on different paths and you should have-” 

“Stop, stop, stop,” his hands wave in the air. “You never told me this,” he gets up- his arms crossing over his chest. “Why didn’t you mention this? We could have talked about it!” I notice his voice raising so I get up from the bed as well ready to defend myself. 

“You would have said it was a stupid reason! You would have told everyone how ridiculous I was being. It was better that you didn’t know,” I explain. 

“You’re right. It is ridiculous. It kills me that you didn’t think I would want a change, especially if it’s with you,” I try to come up with a response but nothing comes. “You’re killing these guys because of miscommunications and yet here you are doing it with me.” The mention of him knowing about my slaughters makes me faint again. 

“It was years ago, Jungkook. Who knows if I would have done the same thing now?” I wave him off and turn to walk out of the bedroom that feels suffocating now. Before I can step out, the door swings close and my front is pressed to the door, his is pressed to my back. 

“Communicate, Y/N,” his lips lower to my ear, kissing a spot behind it. A shiver races down my spine. 

“I don’t know what else to say,” my voice wavers and I curse myself for showing him my weakness. I feel a heat on my waist when his hand meets my waist. My head leans back when his lips move to my neck. 

“What do you want with me now?” his other hand moves to my ass. “More?” he turns me to face him and I can feel the wetness in between my legs when I’m forced to move. I’ve had sex before since Jungkook, but I haven’t felt like I was going to collapse in anticipation until now. “Or are you going to tell me to stop?” his finger slides down the middle of my chest, tracing the line of my cleavage. 

“S-” I almost tell him to stop, but I can’t. I want him. I need him. Forever. 

“Communicate,” his leg slides between mine, finally giving me some kind of friction. I rest my head back on the door and wrap my hands around his neck when he moves his leg on me. 

“I want you, Jungkook,” I’m breathless now. “Right now and for the rest - ah!” I gasp when his fingers slide the straps of my dress down and his mouth is already on my nipple. “For the rest of my life,” I manage to push out. He moans on my nipple when I pull his hair, the vibrations being another sensation muddying my brain. 

“I’ll show you what you’re getting for the rest of your life,” his knees meet the ground and I make eye contact with him as he lifts my dress. Our eyes break when his head hides under the fabric, and I can’t see anything, but feel when he kisses my thighs. He lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder, kissing the inside of my thighs now. I grow impatient and push his head. His chuckle slides against my thighs and I’m about to scold him when I feel a tongue sliding through my lips. 

“Oh God,” I  whisper. My head hits the door as I moan. His tongue swirls and sucks on me and I thank every shooting star for Jungkook and how amazing he is at making me feel good. I have missed the feeling of non-rushed sex with love and care mixed in. 

He stays under me for another minute as I indulge in the wet muscle until he peaks out of the dress and pulling it down.

When he stands, I rush to take the button off of his jeans and pull them down his legs followed by his boxers. His hand rests on my cheek as I come back up. 

The kiss he plants on me is searing. Our lips mesh perfectly into a rhythm. Both of his hands slide down to my waist then onto my ass. I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist. I hold back on grinding myself into his erection as he sits on the edge of the bed. He pulls away and pushes a hair behind my ear. 

“I want you to do something that we never did,” he whispers into my mouth. A million possibilities run through my head, my pussy aching at all of them. 

“What’s that?” I nudge my nose into his before he pulls away again by lying down. 

“Ride me,” he says. It’s a simple request but it’s one that makes my stomach drop. I’ve never been one to be on top. I always wanted my boyfriends to show me they wanted me by putting the work on. It was selfish on every level, but it helped my own self esteem. But this is Jungkook. I would do anything for him at this point. 

I don’t say anything else, only place myself onto his hard dick. I drag my wetness on him putting my hands on his still clothed chest. I drag my fingers onto the buttons and pluck every single one undone. Once I’m able to take his shirt off I drag my tongue up his chest and onto his neck. He holds my ass and grinds up into me, earning a moan into his ear. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he sighs. I’ve missed the way he sounded. 

I bring myself back up, breathless. 

“My dress,” I point out the garment still on me, getting up to take it off.

“Don’t,” he demands, grabbing my hand. “Keep it on. You look sexy as hell in it.” The compliment makes my heart soar. 

I hover over him, grabbing his dick. It slides so easily inside of me. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “You feel perfect,” he whispers. I relish the way he still holds my ass and moan out loud when I start to move. He helps by meeting me in the middle as I bounce on him. I can’t help my ego growing when he licks his lips as I move. 

I realize I’m fucked when I look at him. Literally and figuratively. He could do anything and I would never kill him. Is it the bare minimum not to kill your partner? To other people, yes.

The pace moves faster and his hand slides down, sliding a finger through me, then rubbing at my clit and that moves my body to the edge. 

“I- I think I-” 

“Let’s do it together, baby,” his pet name pushes me and I cry out when I climax. He sits up and groans into my mouth when he fills me up. We ride the high for a few more seconds before I come off of him and we lie down, wrapping ourselves into the blanket. 

I wrap an arm around his waist and kiss his cheek.

“Does this mean I won’t have to clean blood anymore?” he asks. I punch him in the chest at the tease as he laughs. 

“Very funny. But as long as you don’t break my heart then I suppose not,” I respond seriously. 

“You won’t have to worry then,” there’s a smug smirk painted on his face as I roll my eyes. 

“Oh!” I quickly rush out of bed. 

“What is it?” 

“I have to pee!” I rush to the bathroom as he laughs. I peek out the bathroom door and tell him, “I’ve missed you.” 

He smiles gently at me, his hands resting behind his head. “I’ve missed you more.” 

[pedgito]

hey, im a big fan of your writing. I am also a big fan of Javier Peña, Joel and Din lmao. So can I request a story about either one of those (mostly sfw mainly because im in my feelings) that is more of a hurt/comfort angst? Maybe bottled feelings are freed, a near death experience occurs after a heated confession that didn't go well...? idk I leave it up to you if you want to write it of course. Anyways, again, love love your stories, especially the way your portray Javier. Have a nice week <3

pairing | javier pena x fem!reader

content warning | mostly sfw, arguments over commitment/relationships, mention of violence (bombing), descriptions of minor injuries and emotional distress, just lots and lots of angst [2.6k]

author’s note | this screamed javi so hard so i couldn't pass up the opportunity to write some angst for him

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

You’ve been at it for months now, waiting for Javier to finally give in and confess to you what he’s been holding back for so long—he’s so closed off it’s impossible, his back turned to you as he grips the chair shoved into the small dining table tucked in the corner of his apartment.

This was supposed to be a one off job, spend a couple months down in Bogotá with Steve—play alongside him in the hopes of catching Escobar, settling into a mix between the three of you, realizing fairly quickly that Peña wasn’t the type of nice guy you were used to.

He was brazen, straight-forward and a little bit—scratch that, a lot of an asshole, so full of himself that it oozed out. Still, that didn’t stop you from climbing into his bed a week into your stay, breaking the one rule you had.

Never fucking sleep with your co-workers.

Look where it got you; fighting an emotionless wall of stone.

He wants you, but he can’t have you. He doesn’t want to see you with other people, but he can’t stake his claim and call you his—but god forbid you so much as consider eyeing another person, someone interested in showing you the attention you wanted, that you deserved. His jealousy is unmatched, the curl in his lip when he sees you across the room around them, the short and fleeting touches they gave to your arm in passing—from your perspective, a simple gesture between friends, but to Javier, it's a threat.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t try to show you attention—Javier was more than that, all-consuming in a way, passionate to a fault. But, he was not a lover type guy.

Still, you were naive enough to think you could change that.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” You spoke strongly, watching the tilt of his head as looks down, burning a cigarette held between his fingers, “whatever this is—we can forget about it.”

“Yeah—I’m sure the others will have a fuckin’ field day when they catch wind,” Murphy let it slip once and it’s been the constant topic of conversation, playful teasing toward you but torture on Peña who likes to keep things private, always, “always eye fucking you across the room.”

“Who cares, Javi?” You ask, feeling like you were talking to a ghost as he refused to look at you. “You don’t give a shit what’s going on here, why should I?”

And it hurts because you do.

It was innocent at first, one hookup that should’ve ended that night. But, one turned into several and eventually you were spending most night at Javier’s apartment to the extent of grabbing dinner on the way there—or, for fucks sake, cooking for the man. You knew that he loved breakfast in the mornings despite his constant refusal to eat it, how he couldn’t focus without his first cup of coffee and why he kept his gun at his bedside and the spare under the mattress.

He’s got scars, faint but visible when you lay against his chest at night—some from childhood, some not, but you wouldn’t know had you not spent the time with him and watched the vulnerability he showed when it was just you, just him after a long, stressful day trying to catch a terrifying monster and the both of you itching to burn off steam.

“You can’t ask me on a date, can’t—jesus—you can’t even look at me, Javier.” He hears the break in your voice, how hard you’re struggling to keep things together.

And you’re fuming, furious, aiming to hit him where it really hurts. You want him to feel. Feel anything.

“You like to play house and let me cook you meals, act like I’m yours when it’s convenient for you.” He twitches at that, slamming the burnt end of the cigarette into the ashtray. It’s the only real sign of emotion he’s shown all morning. “That’s all you care about. Egoísta.” (Selfish)

He slams the ashtray down roughly, ashes flying over the table. You don’t jump or flinch, not at all fazed by his outburst. You saw it too often during work when things fucked up or didn’t go his way. When he did show emotion it was intense and full body.

“I told you,” He says slowly, turning toward you now, “I don’t do this,” He punctuates slowly, fingering wagging between the both of you, “I can’t do—this.”

Clearly.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The difference is staggering, truly. You wanted an answer.

“You tell me you never want me to leave your bed, your apartment, that you want to keep me here forever because there’s nothing that makes you feel this close to home—and you can’t do this?”

He speaks it against your lips almost every night when he’s pulling you into his chest, pressing those soft lips of his against your forehead and kissing you with a tenderness reserved only for you.

Javier never answers, gaze growing more intense by the second, bound to retreat from the situation before emotions boil over—but you beat him to it, grabbing your bag and storming out without a word.

He’s never had to beg you to stay and he doesn’t realize how desperately he’d wished to ask you until a few hours later, a phone call from Steve that has his heart dropping into his stomach, the equal worry in Murphy’s voice as he relays the information.

Steve mumbles your name—hurt, bomb, Escobar written all over it, dead, so many dead.

You’re lucky to still be standing—or rather alive, forced onto a gurney lined in the aisle of some rundown Bogota hospital where the workers were running rampant, clearly on edge and scrambling to save lives.

It was minor compared to what could have been. A small concussion, some lacerations to your face and a nasty gash on your side that required some stitching. It wasn’t anything some pain medication and bandages couldn’t fix, but in that commotion you had lost all of your belongings, undoubtedly damaged beyond repair. You had been in the shopping center ten minutes prior to the explosion and you were shaken, admittedly, wondering why your life had been spared over so many others.

And you always hear about your life flashing before your eyes during a near death experience, never really believing it until it happens—and selfishly, you couldn’t think about anything but Javi.

He was a nasty parasite, the kind that sucked the life and energy out of you, took everything and gave nothing in return. You knew how he was going into things, knew he wouldn’t budge or change his ways.

But still, there was a hope that maybe he would change.

The first thing you manage to do when you find a phone is call the embassy—anyone who would answer and let them know what happened, but they were miles ahead and already fifty feet deep into investigating.

Carillo is the first to ask if you’re okay, not that it matters—but then Murphy is scrambling for the phone, a soft commotion in the background as he argues with the man until he finally lets up and hands it over.

“God, we thought you were dead. Please tell me you’re alright?” Murphy pleads, sounding just as strained and worried as you’d expect, “All your limbs, nothing missing?”

You laugh softly into the phone, the first breath of life back into after what has been a terrible day. It’s already evening, the day has come and gone and the sun is setting without a trace of anyone coming to help.

Not that you expected it—Javier wasn’t the type to get over things easily.

“Yep. Head’s still attached and everything.” And Steve can appreciate your way of coping, adding a bit of lightheartedness to a dark situation. You release a shaky breath, squeezing the plastic tighter until cracks under your grip, “Is there—I mean, they just discharged me, but I don’t have a ride.”

“Javier didn’t pick you up?” Murphy asks, sounding confused. “I told him—he should’ve…”

He trails off, cursing away from the phone as he speaks to someone distantly, “Which hospital are you at?”

You look around for any indication, reading off an unfamiliar name to Steve as he repeats it, scribbling it down on a piece of paper.

“Shit—Javi’s probably clear on the other side of town from you.” Murphy runs a tired hand through his hair, over his face. “They told us they sent everyone to the one here close by the embassy.”

Everyone.

Families searching for their missing—you couldn’t even imagine it.

“He—does Javi think I’m—“

“Shit, I don’t know. He’s been on edge since he got here this morning, we’ve been trying to figure something out, anything—he left a few hours ago when we weren’t getting answers and I just—did something happen?”

“I think I pushed him too far this morning,” You say softly, huddling closer to the wall as the halls become more crowded, louder and suffocating in a way that has your curling around yourself slightly, mindful of the pain in your side, “fuck, maybe this is karma, Steve.”

“Hey, no—don’t say that shit,” He stops you in your tracks, “Javi is…Javi, you can’t predict anything he’s gonna do. Dude’s a fuckin’ brick wall half the time.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“Steve, I don’t have my phone.” You tell him, “Can you just—call him? Let him know. I need to find a cab or someone willing to drive me back to Bogota if that’s even fucking possible. I don’t even have my wallet or badge with me.”

It’s almost like a divine intervention that you hear Javier on the other end, cutting through the flurry of other voices and busy telephones ringing. He’s wrenching the phone out of Steve’s hand before he can get a word in.

“Querida,” He says soft, voice quivering slightly, “Querida, is that you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will yourself to remember how badly things ended earlier in the day, even if they didn’t feel as important now, they were still important to you.

Emotions were high now, but the fallout could be devastating.

“Yes, I’m—Javi, I’m okay. A little banged up and stuff but I’ll survive,” The silence grows as he absorbs the information, “Look, I need to go. I have to find a ride back to town.”

“Don’t move,” He says briskly, suddenly, “Fuck—I mean stay there, no te vayas. I’m coming for you.” (Do not go)

The line cuts before you have a chance to reply.

You love how well he sticks out in a crowd despite how he likes to blend in and not draw attention to himself, but he’s all tanned skin and shiny with a layer of sweat that tells you he probably ran a few blocks to get here.

You did wait, even if it was closer to a half hour before there was any sign of him, despite how upset you still were, you waited.

Of course you did.

His eyes dart around nervously before they land on you, tucked away in a corner as you cradle your side and he’s barreling toward you, scooping you up before you can protest. The small squeak you release has him pulling back like someone stabbed him with a hot brand, brows furrowed with worry.

“My side,” You mumble, shifting his hand away from the wound, watching as it falls helpless to his side again, his gaze lingering over your body, face, seeing the amount of damage you took, “hey—I’m fine, all things considered.”

Javier blinks slowly, rubbing around the side of your jaw, careful of the small bandage covering a nasty cut, that familiar pout growing on his lips. You saw it earlier, but the implication was different.

This wasn’t anger. It was worry.

“Mi amor,” He murmurs, oblivious to the commotion around you both as he looks at you, almost straight through you, “fuck—I’m so sorry.”

You breathe through your nose deeply, shaking your head as you grip his wrist for leverage, pulling him alongside you until you’re outside, away from the crowd of people and alone.

“No, I’m sorry.”

And for once, Javier is surprised.

He knows you always have a comeback poised on your tongue, the will to fight and work through any argument that surfaces, but this is defeat. It’s clear as day on your face in the way it falls, eyes softened to the point of near tears and your cheek covered in a dark bruise that makes his chest hurt.

“I don’t know why I’m forcing you to answer to something you don’t want,” That something in question was you, but it didn’t matter, “maybe we let things drag on too long. I was just—happy, I liked it. I shouldn’t have expected anything from you since you were clear from the beginning.”

Even with Javier being the first to cross the lines he drew himself, asking you to stay that one night and never going back, making mistake after mistake until it stopped feeling wrong and started to seem, well, normal. But, here you were, taking the blame like he had no wrongdoing in any of this.

“Bebita, no.” His voice is low, thumb rubbing a tender spot in the side of your neck, a soft touch that massages the ache in your muscles, head tilting into the touch as you look at him. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Oh, the irony.

“Now look at you,” He says, scanning over your face briefly, “consumes mi mente, nena.” (You consume my mind, baby)

“I can’t do halfway anymore, Javi.” It’s pure honesty, fingers finding his wrist as they wrap around delicate, using his touch as an anchor. “I need all of you.”

“Then have it,” Javier says mindlessly, without thinking and speaking instinct—it’s real, you can see it in the way his eyes widen and soften in the same instance, that pleasing look that entraps you, “tómalo.” (Take it)

The tears that sting your eyes don’t fall, but they rise, blinking rapidly to will them away and force yourself to keep composed despite hearing those words, knowing how deeply he meant them.

“Fuck, I’ll marry you if that proves anything to you, querida.” He’s being over-dramatic, but it has your insides fluttering like wildfire, “I should’ve never let you leave this morning.”

But, he was scared. Terrified of how deeply he felt for you.

“There’s so much you don’t know,” Javier explains, “so much I need to tell you but I don’t want to scare you away.”

As if he could.

“Javi, I’m with you.” You tell him steadily, “I always have been.”

Javier laughs through a sigh, breathing through his nose as he smiles for the first time that day.

“We can talk. We will.” Javier nods assuredly, “But, I want to get you home first.”

Home. He means his apartment, but it comes out that way without realizing.

He’s tender when he helps you shower, cleans your wounds up with what little first aid he has, but he manages, helping you dress in what has to be the most vulnerable moment you’ve had since meeting him.

Javier holds you for a long while after that, curled up in his lap on the sofa as he smokes away with his head leaned against the back of the cushion, rubbing a hand over your thigh softly.

“Hermosa?”

You’re nearly asleep by then, rousing with a small hum.

“After all of this,” He trails on, “when we put Escobar away and this shit is done,” He pauses, taking a short drag from the cigarette and blowing it out into the air, “I want you to come back with me.”

“To Texas?”

He nods, squeezing your leg for reassurance.

“I'm terrified of losing you here, but home—I would never let you out of my sight, I could keep you close.”

His trepidation will always be his downfall, but he knows he can’t let you go anymore. He needs you here, he’ll need you after.

“Anywhere you want, Javi. I’ll follow.”

He doesn’t have any reason not to believe you.

“Buena.” (Good.)

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[ladykailitha]

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 4

Well, @forgottenkanji​ was the only one that suggested a name, but it was really cool, so I decided why not?   Do you know what shovels dig? Graves

Welp, this part has reached over 3k so it’s getting split up. And maybe even an epilogue with that anon’s idea. I know I keep saying we’ll see. But this story has taken life of its own at this point and I’m just putting it out there as it comes.

 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

And here we get to the party apologizing and Eddie bitching out his friends.

*

Eddie had band practice after dinner so he kissed Steve on the cheek a little bit before half-time and left. Steve furrowed his brow a bit when he saw Eddie leave but didn’t say anything.

Eddie arrived at Gareth’s house and hopped out of his van. He was pleased to see that all of the other members of Corroded Coffin were already there. He walked up to them grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, Eddie!” Gareth greeted. “You ready to start, man?”

Eddie just stood there with his hands on his hips, rocking back on his heels.

Jeff looked around Eddie in confusion. “Hey, dude, where’s your guitar?”

“Oh I didn’t bring it,” Eddie replied cheerfully.

The other three shared glances and the muttering began.

“You see I just recently learned that my best friends gave my boyfriend the shovel talk,” Eddie said brightly. “Best friends who really should have known better considering they know my past and that Steve is a hopeless romantic who is a serial monogamist.”

The muttering stopped and silence fell.

“So I’m just stopping by to let you know that because you and several others made my boyfriend so upset he had a breakdown,” Eddie continued in the same cheerful tone, “that if I hear even one word against Steve...” his voice dropped to the dark and wicked tone he used for his villains, “I will gleefully murder your characters in increasingly violent ways and then burn the character sheets. Mm’kay?”

They all nodded vigorously.

“Great!” Eddie said. “See you on Saturday!” And then turned on his heel and hopped back into his van. He drove off with a cheery wave.

Once he was gone they all looked at each other in shock.

“Wait, did Eddie say several other shovel talks?” Jeff asked after minutes of stunned silence.

“Did he say breakdown?” Gareth asked.

“Shit.”

*

Steve got into work the following morning only for Robin to throw her arms around his neck.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispered. “You just always appear so confident and cool when you’re actually dating that I forgot I know you better than that.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “It hurt Robs,” he murmured. “I thought I was your best friend and you were telling me not break his heart. I just don’t understand why.”

Robin sighed and let go of him. She hopped up onto the counter and crossed her ankles. “Being gay isn’t the same as being bisexual. You have other options if it goes to shit.” Steve’s face soured and she started waving her hands. “Not that I think it will. Of course I don’t! It’s just hard. Not harder. Because believe me I have heard some pretty nasty things people have said about bisexuals from both sides of the aisle. And I just got so wrapped up in the gay aspect of it all that I forgot you have it just as hard.”

He just shrugged and half turned away.

“Shit!” Robin said. “I’m supposed to apologizing and I’m making it worse. I am sorry. So sorry. I shouldn’t have been dismissive when you asked about Eddie breaking your heart. Because of course you’re concerned about that. Especially after Nancy. I just didn’t think it was possible, because Eddie loves you so much.”

Steve nodded.

She jumped off the counter and threw her arms around him again. “You’re my Platonic soulmate and I love you so much. You deserve people looking out for you, too. And I promise that will be me from now on.”

“I love you, too.” He put one hand on her arm as she held him. They stayed like that until a customer came in.

*

When Steve got home from work Will was sitting on his front steps.

“Hey, Will, you been waiting long?” Steve asked as he unlocked the front door.

Will stood up and dusted off his pants. “Nope. I knew when you got off and before you ask, Eddie told me.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. It wasn’t uncommon for kids to just drop by. His was one of the few houses among their friends with air conditioning and the only one with a pool.

“Dustin mentioned he’d be stopping by to apologize,” Will said as he wandered through to the kitchen, “and me and El decided that since you are too nice, one of us will be here to make sure the actually apologize and not hand wave what they did away.”

Steve laughed. “If you say so.”

Sure enough about ten minutes later there was a knock on the door. Steve when to go answer it and Dustin, Mike, and Nancy stood there looking sheepish. Will came out and shook his head.

“That just won’t do,” his said. “Two of you will wait in the front room while one apologizes to Steve. I won’t let you cheat with one person apologizing and thinking it counts for all three of you.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah, Will’s my favorite.”

Dustin looked devastated. “I’ll go first.”

Will nodded and followed Steve and Dustin to the kitchen and Mike and Nancy went to wait in the front room.

Dustin sat on the bar stool at the counter and Steve got him a soda. Will leaned up against the sink and watched.

Dustin wrapped his hands around it and sighed. “I didn’t know anyone had given you a shovel talk because when we talked about you and Eddie I thought it was just a joke. And I thought, ‘hey I should tell Steve to go easy on Eddie after the bats because he was still healing’ you know. I didn’t realize that you had taken to me that I didn’t trust you with Eddie, honest!”

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “All right so maybe yours wasn’t a shovel talk, but you can see why I might think it was, right?”

Dustin nodded. “You’re a good friend, Steve. And I know we don’t tell you enough, but we really do love you.”

Steve pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Dustin cried. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Steve looked over at Will who gave him the thumbs up. Dustin’s was a miscommunication on both their parts.

Dustin exited the kitchen and Nancy came in. She spotted Will standing at the sink and turned to Steve.

“I would rather he not be here for this,” she said, her tone clipped.

“And I would rather have not gotten several shovel talks that took an intervention from your boyfriend to get you people to realize you’d hurt me,” Steve replied. “But here we are.”

She pursed her lips and Will raised an eyebrow at her daring her to press the issue farther.

Nancy decided to take the high road and ignore Will instead. “It was wrong of me to threaten you with my gun collection. I realize that you and Eddie are adults that can make their own decisions.”

Steve and Will looked at each other in disbelief.

“What?” she asked.

“That wasn’t an apology,” Will said.

“I admitted to being wrong,” Nancy said with a frown. “That’s what I’m supposed to be doing, right?”

Steve sighed. And that right there was why they never would have worked. “You’re supposed to be sorry that you hurt my feelings, but I’m getting the impression that you aren’t.”

Nancy sighed. “Your feelings were only hurt because there were so many of them. If it was only me or me and a couple of others, you’d be fine.”

“What?!” Will squawked. “That’s not the point!”

“Nance,” Jonathan said from the doorway. They all turned and looked at him. He was leaning against the doorway, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankle. “This isn’t what we talked about and you know it.”

Nancy looked defeated. She turned back to Steve. “I’m sorry about how I treated you. For all of it. Not just the shovel talk thing. You’re a good person. You deserved better than me and when you got him, I was jealous. Of course I love Jonathan.” She turned to him. “I do!” She turned back to Steve. “But you and Eddie have something so special and...” she threw her arms in the air. “I don’t know.”

“So you gave me the shovel talk about not hurting Eddie,” Steve said, “because you were jealous that I was able to find someone better than you?”

“That makes me sound like a horrible person,” she whispered.

“It really does,” Will agreed.

Nancy crossed her arms and looked at the floor. “I just wanted you realize how special what you have with Eddie is. And instead of talking to you like an actual adult, I threatened you instead. That was wrong and I am sorry. You don’t deserve it.”

Steve pulled her in for a hug, too. “I think this is why we would have never worked out, Nance. I love you and I think I always will. But sometimes you get lost in your head and let it do all the talking. Which means the people around you get hurt.”

She nodded. “I just want people to hear me that I forget they have feelings, too.”

“Just remember that,” he murmured, “and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay...” she said softly.

Steve gave Nancy a squeeze and then let her go.

Jonathan turned to Will. “El’s here, too. Why don’t you go keep her from murdering Nancy and Dustin while I handle the next one?”

Will wavered and then nodded, following Nancy out to the front room.

Steve watched him go with a frown. “What was that about?”

And then Mike walked in and Steve’s eyes went wide and he mouthed, ‘Oh.’

Mike stood there between Jonathan and Steve looking at the ground and Steve was struck by how much alike the two Wheeler siblings were.

“This should be by far the most interesting of the apologies,” Steve said. “Whatcha got, Wheeler?”

Mike looked up at him a little stunned. “At the meeting...intervention? Fuck I don’t know what to call it. But Jonathan said something that stuck with me. That you haven’t been that stuck up prick in years.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Jonathan who just shrugged.

“And it got me thinking,” Mike continued. “Why am I so hostile to you? Because you dated Nancy? But that doesn’t makes sense because I don’t treat Jonathan that way.”

“Did you find an answer?” Steve asked.

Mike shook his head. “And that’s when I realized that I was doing it out of habit.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Being a dick was a habit?”

“Being a dick to you was a habit,” Mike corrected. “And that’s not right. Holding a grudge for something you did so long ago and getting mad at you when you said it bothered you? That’s not fair.”

“Life rarely is,” Steve said softly.

Mike cocked his head. “True, but that doesn’t mean I have to actively make it worse.”

Steve nodded appreciatively. “Also true.”

Mike stood up straighter and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been a dick to you. But I also was only joking about Eddie. For me it wasn’t serious, but hearing that everyone had given you the shovel talk? Holy shit, man, that wasn’t right. The reason I thought it was a joke was because anyone who’s spent more than five minutes with Eddie knows he doesn’t take shit from anyone. If anyone was going to bury you for being a dick to him, it would be Eddie himself.”

Jonathan and Steve glanced at each other and nodded.

“But after I heard that everyone else had done it and meant it?” Mike continued. “Yeah, that was bullshit. So I’m sorry it got out of hand. I’m sorry if my joke added to your suffering. Because I never meant it hurt. Honest.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah. I see where you’re coming from and I accept your apology.”

Mike stood there awkwardly tugging at his shirt hem. “Can I get a hug, too?”

Steve smiled and stepped up to wrap his arms around Mike’s shoulders. Mike sighed and leaned into the hug. He didn’t return the hug, but just stood there enjoying the warmth.

After a few moments, he took a step back and cleared his throat. “Thanks.” He sniffled and then turned to Jonathan. “You won’t tell Nancy about this, will you?”

Jonathan shook his head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Steve nodded. “I’m not going to tell anyone shit, man.”

Mike relaxed. “Right. Thanks.”

And he shuffled back to the front room, still sniffling.

“That was certainly something,” Jonathan said after a moment.

Steve chuckled shaking his head. “Those Wheeler kids, whew.”

Jonathan laughed. “Happy to have dodged that bullet?”

“You have no idea, man,” Steve said. “You have no idea.”

***

Part Five  Part Six

Tag List: @justforthedead89 @zerokrox-blog @ihavekidneys @didntwant2come @thelittleclare @liorereshkigal @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @telidina @stevesbipanic @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @jonesn4coffee @resident-gay-bitch @obliosworld @croatoan-like-its-hot @evix-syne666 @emly03

[firstdivisiongirl]

Hey I am a really big fan of your writing and I love it it so much

This is the first time I request anything so please bear with me if I did anything wrong

Can I request Law with a fem reader that is his girlfriend but he keeps feeling he is not enough and starts distancing him self from her and acting cold because he feels something bad will happen if he acts like him self?and when she confronts him he denies anything wrong which makes their relationship grow cold

Angst to fluff the more angst the better please

Hi @phsycochan! I am so happy to hear that you like my writing. Thank you for the kind words. I am so happy that people like you are turning in a lot of Law scenarios. He's one of my favorites. I love writing for him, but I never do for some reason. I hope you enjoy this!

WARNINGS: ANGST! HURT TO COMFORT!

Law x Female Reader: Distance Between Us

He let you into your life.  You were his girl.  But, he wasn’t acting or treating you that way.  He was treating you more like a stranger.  One that he’d pass and never see again.  This wasn’t the Trafalgar Law you knew and loved.  You wanted the distance between you to shrink.  He’d listen to you, right?

To him, you were his everything.  You were the girl of his dreams.  However, he never felt like he deserved you.  Everyone he loved died one way or another.  He wasn’t strong enough to protect them, so how could he protect you?  So he kept you far away,  you’d be safer and happier that way, right?

You had asked him why.  But, he ignored you.  You told him you loved him.  But, he ignored you.  The distance between you only grew.  Finally, after months and months of this, you decided to try again.

You walked into his office.  But everything was a mess.  His usual neat desk was covered in papers.  His organized bookshelf was a complete disaster with books clearly not in alphabetical order.  The bags under his eyes were as large, if not larger, than the day you met.  What happened to him, you thought.

“What happened,” you asked, breaking the icy silence between you two.

He went back to his work, “nothing.”

“No!  Something is wrong.  You treat me like I mean nothing to you!  What’s going on?  You can’t treat me like this?”

“It’s better this way!”  You could see the vein on his forehead starting to protrude.

“NO IT’S NOT!!!!!  Look at you!  You’re a mess and…”

“ENOUGH!,” he interrupted your speech, “I’m not a child.  I can handle this on my own.  I don’t need you.”

You ran out of the room crying.  You both sat there, wondering what you could have done differently.

****

Three months have passed with the same coldness between you.  You two could barely look at each other, let alone be in the same confined space.  So you made the hard decision to leave the Heart Pirates.  That’s how you got to where you are now.  Everyone on the crew was so sad, especially Bepo.  He wanted to believe that you and Law would work it all out and get back together.  

As everyone said their goodbyes to you, Law was inside.  He wanted to respect your decision, but he knew he really messed up.  He kept hearing what Ikkaku told him before she and the rest of the crew left to say goodbyes.  “She fell in love with you because you were you.  You were so worried about losing her that you caused her to leave.  Put on your big girl panties and tell her how you feel.”  Ikkaku was right, so he ran out of his office before it was too late.

You were about to leave when you heard someone yell.  “Wait,” Law yelled, running up to you.  When he reached you he kissed you passionately.  It reminded you of the first time he kissed you.  The magic was still there.

He continued, “I’m sorry.  It’s my fault.  I was just afraid of losing you.  I didn’t mean any of it.  I love you Y/N.  Please stay.”  You nodded your head, tears streaming down your face

It would take time and effort, but the two of you would try.  This distance between you was finally dwindling.

Please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

[faeskiss]

LONGING ༉‧₊˚.

synopsis: reader misses zaros on their birthday! a sad fic

The ballroom is alive and thriving with guests, music is blaring and reverberating throughout the hall, rampant sound of laughter and revelry is dancing in the air, the smell of wine and strawberries is thick and inviting

it’s my birthday, but I am cooped up in this absurd corner,next to the fondue table, a glass of switchel in my hand, I would go for a more riveting drink, but I really shouldn’t have alcohol, it’s very easy for me to lose myself if I have too much, and I am determined to not give these people an unwanted show and fuel their zeal for drama and gossip.

I certainly don’t want Zaros to have any reason to laugh or look down on me……even if he isn’t here physically, news travels fast, and if I make a spectacle of myself, there’s no way he wouldn’t hear about it.

My mother, the Queen, gives a long speech in my honour, it’s warm and wholesome, and I certainly don’t deserve to be praised the way she does, she paints me in such a way that I seem tenfold the incredible and dutiful person I am, when that’s far from reality, I dread the day people of my kingdom realise that I’m a fraud, that I hide behind my intelligence and wit, that I haven’t the slightest clue of what I’m doing, this fear, it eats me alive, every single day.

I’m not exactly the best person you’ll ever come across, I know that, and I know if Zaros were here he’d remind of the same every five minutes, even on my birthday

Nobles come and go, bringing in gifts and fake smiles, giving me their half hearted good wishes, all my fair weather friends are here too, this entire ordeal feels more like a desperate attempt to prove who is more loyal and dutiful to the future ruler rather than a birthday party, it all feels so very disingenuous.

No matter how rocky things were between me and Zaros, he had always been a veritable person, one of the very few people who truly saw me for who I was, no matter how unpleasant the “real me” is…

I still remember my 17th birthday, right before everything went wrong, back when he still had some amount of love for me in his soul, he had given me a heart shaped necklace with my initials, in his handwriting, engraved on it, it was custom made for me, he told me that as long as I had that necklace, I would have a piece of him with me at all times

we weren’t always incredibly affectionate with each other,but when we were it was real and almost intoxicating…

I’ve had uncountable pieces of jewellery gifted to me in the past, but none have meant so much to me as that necklace, I have it locked away, safely, my heart still aches every single time I accidentally come across it in my closet

it’s a reminder of how much he really loved and cared for me, and how he’ll never love me the way he used to, ever again, not even if I prayed to the heavens with every single speck of hope and optimism my body can muster…

tears start bubbling in my eyes, “oh god, I don’t want to cry on my birthday, especially not because of him” I think to myself ,I hurry out of the ballroom, leading my way to the balcony before anyone can see me in this state.

I quickly hang on to the railing for support as I feel the sadness seep into my knees making them go weak, I want to breakdown, I want to scream and cry, I want to feel the warmth of his embrace once more, just one more time, it’s the only birthday wish no one in the land can grant me.

A huge pit of longing starts to form in my stomach, as if it’s a black hole ready to engulf my very being right here and now, no matter how hard I try to deny it, I can’t anymore, I miss him so much it hurts, I miss Zaros SO much, he was everything to me, no matter how much we brawled, no matter the poisonous words that spewed out of our mouths when we fought, I still loved him and I know he loved me.

I haven’t seen his face or heard his voice in almost 3 years, my eyes and ears are starved, everything that went down between us, I regret it every day.

A sharp shooting pain stabs me in the chest, as his stupidly charming smile flashes before my eyes, I took it for granted, I still remember the last time he smiled at me like that, teeth and all, warm and comforting, little did I know it’d be the last time I’d ever see it.

Our relationship was always complicated but the one thing that none of us could deny was that we could share anything we wanted with each other, no matter how much he disapproved of my actions, he knew he could be himself around me, he had a way of seeing through my every word, every movement , every look, he knew me better than anyone, even my own mother….even my own self, I had never felt so alive as I did when I was with him, now I feel like an empty shell of a person, existing in vain, bitter and incomplete.

My tired gaze travels outside the balcony, the city looks beautiful, fireworks are ablaze in the sky, I can hear the excitement and chatter of the people outside as they relish the beautiful sight with their loved ones, I haven’t gotten to hear much about Zaros since he left, but I do know that he’s in town, and I know that right now we share the same twilight sky, I don’t care for the expensive clothing, the jewels, the meaningless luxuries that I have received tonight, the only thing I truly want is for him to look up at the sky, and think of me, of every single smile, every thoughtful glance we shared, all the times our laughter echoed through the walls of this palace, and smile, even if it is for a split second. ༉‧₊˚.

[olenvasynyt]

Similarities and Differences between Lucien and Azriel

Alright...Elriel vs Elucien.  And I am aware that this is a topic: this fanbase has very strong opinions!  I have strong opinions myself ofc.  But I am going to suppress my own personal biases and look at these characters from a logical, unbiased perspective.  And I’m not really going to talk about evidence that proves one ship is canon or anything like that, I actually will barely talk about Elain at all.  

I want to point out the similarities and differences between Az and Lucien because I think these will definitely come into play in the next ACOTAR book since it will most likely be Elain’s book and this ship war is probably going to be addressed (at least I hope)

Similarities:

Prominent Scars

Both have scars which is rare for High Fae, and the way they got these scars is very prevalent to their backstory.

2. Knowledgeable spies

They are both intelligent and sly and know a lot about Prythian because they’re both spies, Lucien was considered Tamlin’s spy / emissary.  They both seem to keep a lot of secrets even from the people they’re close to.

3. Childhood

Their history are similar.  Both were tortured by their fathers and brothers.  Their mothers might have been used against them in their youth to control them (Mommy issues for sure)

4. Found Family

They were taken in by their friends after a really traumatic experience—Rhys and Rhys’ mother took Az in, Tamlin took Lucien in.  And they developed a very strong loyalty to Rhys and Tamlin perspectively as their high lords but also their best friends.

5. Loyal but still speak out often against their HL

And both of them still say the issues they have with their High Lords.  Az is more confident with Rhys while Lucien is a lot more cautious with Tamlin especially after UTM and for good reason. 

6. Defending their loved ones

And they both have their moments of rash defensiveness, like Az choking Eris at the High Lord’s meeting when he insults Mor, and Lucien telling Amarantha to “go back to the shithole she crawled out of” in the first book.

7. Insecurity

And it’s hard to understand them because we barely got POVs from either but they both seem really insecure with themselves.  Az seems to think of himself as a monster he avoids looking at his scarred hands.  And Lucien blames himself for a lot of stuff, one of the most important things imo, Jesminda’s death.  It seems like they avoid a lot of parts of themselves.

8. Elain

And one of tne of the most important in this shipwar situation that makes them similar imo—that I never see anyone talking about—are the conversations they have with Feyre and Rhys perspectively.  In the Autumn Court Feyre and Lucien have a fight about Elain and the Night Court, and Feyre says that he is only tagging along “just so he can get what he thinks he’s owed,” referring to Elain his mate.  This is very reminiscent of what Rhys asks Az in the bonus chapter, “you believe you deserve to be her mate?”

And both of them don’t directly answer and say they think they’re deserving in fact they both address their mistrust/dislike: Lucien answers, “my mate is in my enemy’s hands” and Az says “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her.”

They are both very conflicted when it comes to Elain. Az is attracted to her to the point of infatuation, and he’s stuck on this idea of having love because both of his brothers found love and a mate but he hasn’t.  But being with Elain is forbidden and he kind of realizes he doesn’t have a plan laid out.  He knows all of this is wrong and kind of seems to think he knows he’s being irrational.

And Lucien has the mating bond and all of the emotions and attractions that come with that but he is sick of getting hurt.

He’s still thinking about Jesminda it seems like and he thought she was his mate so he’s already comparing the two females.  

And he also sees that Elain is not into it plus he feels like he’s being forced into it himself.

And I really think the differences between the two will come into play as well, and are probably more important when it comes to Elain and how both of these two males interact with Elain at this current moment in time.

Differences:

`1. Light / dark powers

The most obvious difference is their powers; Lucien has the power of the Day court and Autumn, so light and fire which is the exact opposite of Az’s cold shadow powers. A lot of people use that difference as evidence towards Elucien or Elriel being the next relationship.  But as I said before I just want to point out some other differences that aren’t about each of the two males’ potential with Elain but rather just a character analysis. 

2. Honor, heroism, and helplessness

Az is very much a white knight. He is a savior, a rescuer.  He has a reputation for saving females, including Mor, Gwyn, and Elain.  He kind of has a hero complex in a way at least from how I view it, mainly bc the reason for a lot of these complexes is the desire for affirmation, validation and a sense of purpose, which I think has Az written all over it.

Also, a hero complex isn’t all about rescue and “damsels in distress”.  It is all of these other things:

good at saving people, very perceptive and sympathetic

A need for validation

dismissing their own needs and neglecting self-care

difficulty accepting help

feeling overwhelmed and drained

emotional and psychological burnout

low self-esteem

resentment

fear of abandonment and rejection

guilt over perceived mistakes

issues with overstepping boundaries

I'll make another post about it but I think it's an important.

You can try to analyze this from a psychological viewpoint, like Az was abused and suppressed when he was young, he was locked away and could not help his mother until he was empowered by his Illyrian heritage and shadowsinger abilities and got out of his father’s imprisonment.  A lot of these rescues are because of this job but Az seems like the person who is honorable and would help these females anyway, even if his high lord didn’t blatantly order him.

Lucien has a similar history: he also didn’t have power over his father or brothers, he was helpless when it came to helping his mother. But he reacts differently to this trauma.  He is a lot more helpless. 

Lucien is a gentlemen and very good hearted, and again, he can be rash and he does defend his loved ones, (helping Feyre UTM, going to find Vassa and get help from the other fae territories) but most of the time he is very careful with the moves he makes.  And I don’t want to say he’s selfish because he has done plenty of very selfless things, but sometimes his trauma really drives his decision making.  You can see this with Tamlin in ACOMAF: he tried to help he tries to stand up to Tamlin a few times, but imo his trauma from Beron and seeing his mother being abused really influenced his actions and made him cautious.

3. Trauma from losing loved ones

There is a key quote from Lucien and Feyre’s conversation in the Autumn Court which really just defines how Lucien interacts with people especially Elain.   Lucien was saying he wants to see Elain “just once.  Just—to know.” And Feyre asks him “to know what” and he says “if she’s worth fighting for.” (Chapter 12 Page 114 ACOWAR)

I remember reading that for the first time as someone who fell in love with Lucien from the moment I met him and being like… “ooh 😐 damn.  That’s a little selfish lulu why aren’t you trying harder.” 

And in the bonus chapter, Az says to Rhys that he doesn’t think that Lucian deserves Elain as a mate because he probably just sees Lucien as a coward, he sees how Lucien interacts cautiously around Elain and he’s probably sees him as a coward. He’s frustrated and he doesn’t understand why Lucien is so cautious with his mate because he doesn’t know his history and trauma. 

Lucien is sick of losing people.  He has lost so many of his loved ones.  He has lost Jesminda, he technically lost his mother because most likely hasn’t been allowed to speak to her in centuries.  He’s lost Andras, and he just recently lost Tamlin.  He lost his eye which isn’t a person but it’s a loss still.

Jesminda seems to influence a lot of his decisions when it comes to Elain.  He does not talk about her a lot but in a way he does, you can tell he thinks about her constantly, even if it may have been hundreds of years.

Lucien was expecting a mating bond to snap with her.  He thought that his mate was murdered. 

And he seems very selfish in this conversation with Feyre but it totally makes sense why he said he wants to see if Elain is worth it.  He is sick of losing people.  He’s just like… “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

4. A supportive network

Azriel has had his own losses but he has a lot of people around him.  He’s got all of the inner circle who have supported him and loved him for centuries.  His mother is also alive and there are hints that he goes and visits her.

I think Lucien has a supportive network now with the Band of Exiles, but he lost so many friends and loved ones and allies along the way. He is constantly moving around, loving his spot and finding another one, while Az got a very stable home.

5. Revenge and serving justice

And another thing is, revenge.  Az has a lot more of a need for revenge it seems like.  He wants justice to be served.

When he got out from his step-brother and father’s imprisonment, Rhys isays that what he did to them was so horrible that he struggled looking at him for a while after.  And Az really wants to kill Eris for what he did to Mor, and the only reasons why he holds back are because he believes Mor is more deserving of that revenge and because of his High Lord and High Lady since Eris is a very important ally to the night court right now.

Lucien doesn’t seem to think about justice being served.  Justice has never been served in his life and he thinks it never will.  

He doesn’t seem to have a need for revenge.  He was rude to Feyre in ACOTAR in the beginning which was totally reasonable btw. She murdered and skinned his best friend of course his reaction is bitter hate.  Plus he was losing a lot of hope with the curse.  But he kind of got over it pretty well and Feyre became friends.

And in ACOWAR he encounters his brothers—who tortured him in his youth and held him down and forced him to watch his lover butchered, and also rooted for his torture UTM.  And we don’t really see any need to get his revenge for any of that.  Power came into play in the ACOWAR winter court situation bc him and Feyre were overpowered so they ran instead and that makes sense.

6. Running 

Lucien has a habit of avoiding problems.  He and Feyre ran in Winter (I know their powers were low but still), he ran from Autumn to Spring after Jesminda, he ran from Elain in a way to go help find Vassa.  In ACOFAS when he and Feyre fight on the winter solstice, he left instead of staying.  He just doesn’t want to invest because again, he’s sick of getting hurt.

And maybe not all the time but sometimes Az seems like he runs ahead with his eyes closed.  He bottles up his feelings but he explodes sometimes when he gets too invested, like with Mor and Eris and with Elain in the bonus chapter.

Comparing these two characters is pretty important in the future books, since we will get POVs from both, discover more of their story, and see how this whole shipwar thing ends up.

[muffinsin]

Hello muffin tis i, deluded anon with another ask. Tw for ablism i think? I am autistic and get called slurs and mocked for it by my family n friends, such as the r word n whatnot. If theres any issues that cause me stress like putting the cutlery away- they are too loud and hurt my head. Or if my clothes and everything touching me burns n pricks me, being mute on occasions i get told to get a grip n to shut up- then told off later if i was in public. They treat other autistic people differently from me n reassure them that its ok n valid but its not ok for me to be like that. Anyways i dont really do people and am attached to my teddies n plushies- they have feelings. I always take the most care with them n i dont want them to be uncomfortable, they all call me delusional and a not right for loving my plushies (and fictional women)more than them.

So what would happen if the reader were to be autistic and a maid in the castle struggling with some certain tasks and the rest of the maids treating the reader like how ive been treated (if that makes sense. Idk if i’m making sense) so readers kind of like the laughing stock for them, unbeknownst to the sisters until some maid rips a teddy or comfort item.

How would the sisters react to this? I dont think theyd like it nor tolerate it due to cassandra being autistic and daniela having adhd.

I’m sorry this is such a long ask and quite frankly too much of a self centred one. I have no idea if this makes sense- i apologies sincerely if this makes you uncomfortable in any way. Please dont feel pressured to write this.

I can 100% see the rendition of lion king being played out with dani 😂 she would without a doubt try n blag her mother into making her sister make up for being mean to her, like forfeiting a maid to her.



Of course! I’m very curious about this ask tbh and hope I’ll do it justice :)

A few things first up under the cut, if anybody wants to skip to the start of the HCs, it’ll be marked for you😊

TW: ableism, bullying

Let’s get into this! :)

Masterlists

Tbh I’m hoping I’ll be able to get this right! I’m not autistic myself and am only going off what I’ve read here and experiences I’ve been told about by friends.

First thing I want to say hon, is that you are absolutely, 100% valid.

Nobody- and this includes you- deserves to be called slurs or treated wrongly for such reasons. There is no justification to it at all. To treat you differently while claiming to be accepting with others is awful, and I sincerely hope you will find people decent and good enough to accept you, friends especially :)

Also- plushie superiority honestly XP What are their names?👀 Have you got a fav? Or is it an I-love-them-all-equally- situation? Honestly, regarding what you’ve said about plushie love not being okay? I call bs on it. I find plushie love is one of the sweetest there is, even when I don’t have that many myself, I greatly treasure the few plushies I still have. Heck yeah XD

Is the autism and ADHD for Cassandra and Daniela canon? Or a HC?👀 I’ve never heard of it

(Lion king drabble mentioned: here)

Aight that’s it from me! This all probably made little sense, because ironically I cannot comfort at all, I suck at it in most cases, but I hope I still got the key points across somehow XD

Let’s get into it!

(Beginning of the ask)

Bela

She adores you, with all her heart

Bela loves you so much, each part of you

She tries her best to make life as comfortable as possible for you

Even if she can’t always relate to your struggles, she always attempts to ease them

The moment you open up about some of the things troubling you, Bela takes action

She takes special care to ensure the new uniforms are made of fabrics you approve and feel comfortable in, and orders them as soon as possible

Until their arrival, Bela has taken it upon herself to declare to everyone that you are not obliged to wear the old ones

Nobody dares to call you out for working in a shirt instead of the uniform, the order comes from Bela, after all, one of the highest of your superiors, right after Alcina

When the new uniforms are delivered, you can’t help but smile. They’re perfect!

Bela has the old ones disposed of, thrown someplace she can’t be bothered to know

Next, there are the tasks appointed to you

While she normally doesn’t get involved all that much in the staff’s business and shares a mutual respect with the grand chambermaid, she does interfere here

She requests that you are not given tasks in the kitchen as to not get overwhelmed by the loud noises

Nor does she wish for you to work anywhere near the basements

Of course, your lover would never allow you anywhere in the basements, even outside of work, even when she is lurking down there

It’s for safety purposes, most of all

Instead, you are usually appointed calmer places, such as the library or even the castle gardens or greenhouse at times

Bela is flustered whenever you remember to bring her a flower from the outside in winter

Aside from all these things, Bela is your shoulder to cry on, and your pillar to lean on

She never fails to reassure you how much she loves you, and how things you consider as flaws are endearing to her

She knows, sometimes you tend to be quiet, if not entirely mute

After a quick check in whether you’re all right, and you reassure her, she smiles widely

Bela treasures such silence, really

She enjoys to spend time with you, and sometimes silence is just what she needs

After all, the castle can be loud already, especially to her

Wrestling her screaming, kicking and bickering younger sisters all day and night often gives her a migraine

She loves simply cuddling in bed or sitting together, reading together or simply relaxing

Bela doesn’t mind your quietness, and she can easily either make conversation by monologing, or bask in it, even go as far as to close her eyes

She finds these moments precious

She knows nearly everything about you- all except one thing

Life among the staff

Bela doesn’t know of the torment you face, not quite

She doesn’t notice your anxiety when they make fun of you, doesn’t know about how uncomfortable you become when they poke you for fun

She doesn’t know an old uniform has been retrieved from the storage and switched with yours specifically merely to amuse the other staff members

You grit your teeth at the wrong fabric on you, the uncomfortable one that feels entirely too heavy and scratchy

No matter how much you search for the new uniform, it’s hidden far away beyond your grasp

Only when all your duties are done can your change out of it and back into your normal clothing, just in time for Bela to finish work and greet you with a warm smile

You don’t dare tell her, too worried what the other maids will do

After all, Bela can’t dispose of them all

Then there’s the noises…

How often you are brought to the edge of feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed when maids laugh and mock you, forks and knives in their hands as they slap them together

Like sticks hitting a drum, maybe

You are not oblivious to their laughter as you bury your head in your brown teddy bear and fluffy, blue arm sized blanket

Soon, you are indirectly appointed to the kitchens

Not by the grand chambermaid, nor by Bela

You feel uncomfortable at the hands grabbing you by the arms and leading you there

Their reasoning? If you don’t clean up, maidens will be hurt, and it will be your fault

Aside from this, with more hurt maidens and their panic increasing, so will the stress your girlfriend will have to face over trying to manage the castle

They know of your love for Bela, and often use it to have you do things you dislike

Such as picking up all the silverware from the wet sink, drying it in a towel of a texture you dislike, and putting them in the drawers

Their laughter and mockery rings out behind you while you’re made to finish their work

Still, as torturous as all of this is, their newest stunt is incomparable to it

As you find yourself hugging your stuffed bear yet again and cry into its fur at the loud laughter around you, you suddenly feel it tugged from you

Naturally, you try to hold on

Slurs are thrown at you. Mockery

You hear a particular loud cry, a maid calling you a baby, just before you’re suddenly sent back on the bed

You’re holding your teddy- as is the maid tugging it

Tears well up in your eyes as you hold its body, your eyes scanning the unattached leg now dropped to the floor

You feel someone snap their fingers right next to your ear and jump

More laughter

The women around you laugh and mock as you sink to the floor, your teddy and blanket held tight to you as you attempt to grasp the leg

It’s kicked in the corner of the room, and more laughter rings out when you crawl after it quickly

More harsh name calling, until eventually you grasp it

Unsurprisingly, you can’t just push it back on

You aren’t sure how much time passes until your girlfriend finds you

You aren’t even sure when you wandered off to Bela’s room. It’s as if your feet just automatically carried you to your safe place

She immediately swarms to you, her hands hovering by your arms

With a nod of your head, reassuring her it’s okay, she touches you

She immediately feels the change of fabric of your uniform. She knows, this isn’t the right one

Still, golden eyes set on the damaged teddy bear in your hands

Again, she waits for your permission before she pulls you on her lap, knowing you’re so distraught now

She grasps your hands and dries your tears, and gently holds the leg one one hand, the remaining teddy in her other

“He’s broken”, you sob, and Bela is quick to assure you

“Damaged, my dove, not broken”

She promises, she can fix your friend

And true to her word, she does

Urging you to change, she allows you to search her closet for anything that suits you

You watch with wide, hopeful eyes as she takes a sewing kid from one of her many shelves

Thankfully, your beautiful girlfriend enjoys branching out and learning so many new skills…

You watch with wonder as she adds stuffing back into the leg, and even allows you to pick a color to stitch it back together in

Dressed comfortably in her larger clothing and holding onto her pillows and your blue blanket, you watch as slowly, but surely, your friend’s leg is reattached

“He’s on bed rest now, you know”, she teases, hoping to bring a smile to your face

Bela portrays this picture of calmness for you, but rest assured, the moment she knows you’re completely calm and happy again, she will personally see to it that such actions are punished

She demands to know what has been going on with the staff, and offers you your own room, should you not want to move into hers

Bela smiles in self satisfaction as she hand picks the new recruits for cadou experiments, hunts, and, of course, Cassandra’s birthday presents ;)

Cassandra

She cares a lot about you, and is incredibly protective of you

Cassandra tries her best to make you comfortable

She knows, her fast, often dangerous and hectic movements can intimidate or scare away most. She doesn’t want that to happen with you

While Cassandra isn’t the best at listening, she takes in all you say whenever you are made uncomfortable by something

Such as the clanging of her weapons when she carelessly drops them all on a big pile

Her heart breaks a little when you cover your ears at the loud noise caused by metal hitting metal

Was she a dog, her ears would droop down

Instead, she immediately apologizes and tries to still the rocking blades

She makes sure not to clank them against one another again, instead is careful to place them down one by one

She grins widely whenever this earns her a kiss and a smile of yours

Her efforts are certainly not dismissed and ignored!

Then, there’s of course your like and dislike towards certain sensations

She can’t help but giggle when you fall into her bed the first time you touch it

She has all the perfect fabrics!

Cassandra is very picky as it comes to them, too

Her dress is tight, but soft

It doesn’t scratch along her skin and isn’t too soft to make her feel droopy. It’s just perfect to her

Her bed equals this

Soft, satin sheets she likes, and a few large pillows. Not too much, just enough for her to sleep comfortably

You love wearing her clothing. It’s perfect and doesn’t irritate your skin

In return, Cassandra doesn’t mind lending it to you, even if you don’t quite fit into it

All her clothing is custom made, such as Alcina’s dresses and the typical black dresses all three sisters like to wear

The crafter? None other than the famous other Lady of the village

Cassandra makes it a point to ask Donna for clothing made in your size. In return, she is ready to send across a few of the castle’s finest cooking ingredients

It’s working out well, and often she likes to surprise you with a new clothing item of your choice, made of a fabric of your choice

Cassandra doesn’t care for fabrics, merely the feel of them

She allows you to take charge whenever it comes to picking the right ones out

In the beginning, you worry Cassandra will mind your occasional silence

You’re all too happy to notice: she doesn’t

Cassandra talks often, but isn’t quite one for conversation

She likes monologuing, knowing you’re listening to her as she rants about her hunts and her sisters

She doesn’t take your silence as disrespect, though at times randomly reminds herself to check in whether you’d like her to keep talking or stay silent as well for some peace and quiet

She likes to bask in such silence sometimes, to have her head on your lap and play with a few of her flies while you stroke her soft hair

Another thing she’s surprised you by is regarding your stuffed animals

While she hasn’t quite got the connection to them you have, she respects it

Though, she will not allow all of them in her bed. She wants that space all to herself

Still, she is mindful to keep a corner of the bed empty for your stuffed animals, and only growls playfully when you shower them in love, subtly reminding you to place a kiss to her forehead, too

She can’t help but be a little clingy sometimes, after all

Cassandra doesn’t fault you for preferring plushies to humans. She isn’t exactly a fan of them either and rather sees them as nuisances or means to an end, after all

All except you. You’re her precious little human

And Cassandra wants to keep you safe at all times

Yet, there are things even she cannot seem to keep you safe from

Such as the staff members

You know, Cassandra doesn’t get involved with the maiden’s affairs unless to drag one to the basement

She is therefore unaware of the pokes and laughter that follow you sometimes

The slurs whispered your way… you know Cassandra would have their heads for it, yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to tell her

And they know it all too well

Your heart hurts when they talk to you, and in time, you know the only reason for this are dares

Dares, from one maid to another, to talk to you

Entertainment, as they chat and mock you subtly, trying to see how long it takes you to notice

You try to brush it off. To not let it bother you

Cassandra surely wouldn’t let it bother her! She seems so powerful…

Their words regarding this sting. How she could be with someone like you

When you’re allowing them to walk all over you

Some freak, as they say

Their words haunt you hours later even, when your shifts end and you’re cuddled up against Cassandra as she monologues about this and that while showing you her newest dagger

Then, there’s the little stuffed turtle you like to keep in your pocket

It helps you stay calm sometimes, even with the uniform being scratchy and uncomfortable

Often they laugh as they snatch your turtle from you, instead throw her through the air, right above your outstretched hands as you attempt to catch your precious friend

All other stuffed animals are kept safe in Cassandra’s room. All but this one

No one would dare venture into her territory merely to taunt you

No maid is this foolish

You gasp when the turtle is thrown yet again, high in the air in the main hall, right above your hands even as you jump to reach it

Your eyes widen when your precious stuffed animal lands right in the fireplace

Thankfully, not a lit one. It’s summer, thankfully, and the castle is warm enough as it is

But it’s hot, and dirty, and smears black dust and ashes all over the green fur

“Freak”, they taunt as they pass you, crying and attempting to wipe the dirt off

Cassandra finds you easily, having heard your fast heartbeat indicating your panic attack even from the basement

You can merely look up at her as she kneels down, her gloves easily pulled down by her teeth as she holds the little turtle

She’s very careful no blood is smeared on it or you, and opts for staying a little distant upon realising she’s covered in it nearly from head to toe

You don’t seem to mind, you can only look at the turtle, impossibly small in Cassandra’s large hands as strong fingers rub over the dirt gently

A stain remains, and you smile watery. A battle wound, maybe?

The thought comforts you only slightly

You suppose, a scar, a battle wound, wouldn’t be the worst thing…Cassandra has them, after all, scars littering her backside from challenging fights

She won, in the end

Upon demanding what happened, and hearing your tale, Cassandra sees red

She wipes the back of her hand against her lips to clean her bloodied lips, then presses a small kiss to your forehead before she swarms off

In the days to come, plenty examples are maid

Maidens are set free only to be dragged back screaming and badly hurt, begging for forgiveness as they are killed in front of the others

Others are immediately dragged to the basement

And the remaining two that have started it all, are devoured alive in front of the rest of the staff, Cassandra’s warning screamed from their lips

Never, never, will she allow someone to mistreat you again

She keeps a close eye on you, and often opts for having a few flies buzzing around you when you aren’t with her

Daniela

Daniela is a hyper little thing, full of energy and love that she wants to shower you in

She’s very clingy with you, but also incredibly perceptive

More so than her other two sisters, even

She picks up on your slight grimace when it’s dinner time and the rattling of silverware irritates your ears

Without having to tell her, Daniela is more delicate in her movements with her fork and knife- she was the main source of this noise after all, smacking them together because she is generally too energetic to sit still

Instead, she merely swarms around excitedly and annoys her sisters until the food is served

She also notices- you don’t like every clothing item she has to offer

Some just- don’t take your pick, and at first she is a little hurt

She doesn’t understand why, and worries you might think she has horrible taste

Or perhaps don’t want to wear a gift of hers altogether

Daniela tends to overthink fast, and quickly becomes a little hesitant to shower you in gifts when you don’t seem too happy with the two dresses she’s brought you

While she is all for comfort, Daniela doesn’t mind scratchiness of her gowns

Being put in so many of them for balls and events hosted by Alcina, she has learned to ignore the urge to scratch and the annoying itch caused by scratchy sleeves

Overall, she still loves gowns, and isn’t bothered by differences in textures

When you explain to her that you feel differently about this, it’s a little difficult for her to understand

However, Daniela cares about you, and if you tell her this fabric is bad fabric, she’ll tear it to pieces for you, as though you’re her fair maiden and she is the knight protecting you from the fierce dragon!

She often makes slashing noises as she does though, a little too invested in her fantasies

You don’t mind

You think her creativity and fantasy endearing, even

Daniela is curious, though. Often she will randomly swarm to you to ask whether something is good or bad, just out of curiosity, and maybe because she’s turned it into a game

She wants to see if she is getting better at telling what is good and what isn’t, so her surprises and gifts for you are ones you can actually enjoy

She brings you fabrics of gowns and shirts, food and drinks, and even once a very grumpy Bela to question whether her sister feels bad too

She claims she does, with a large, shit eating grin on her face, and you smile as her laughter is heard through the halls when she is chased down for such behaviour, likely made to sit and listen to another lecture of the blonde should she be caught

You find, you look forward to hearing Daniela complain about it

While Daniela can be very loud and hyper at times, and often enough you join in, she doesn’t mind times you’re quiet either

She had no trouble at all leading a conversation, either monologuing or talking for so long and so fast, there’s no way for anybody else to join in anyway

Often, when she notices you’re in a quieter mood, she’ll take control of the conversation until the other person leaves

In return, she only expects a smile, and a kiss to her face

Yet, as much as Daniela dotes on you and coddles you, there are others who are not as sweet

Others, who do not make you feel as welcome

Others, who dare make you feel as though you aren’t normal. Not “right”

The maidens at Castle Dimitrescu can be ruthless, sometimes, especially to outsiders

Being Daniela’s partner has made you an outsider

And having autism has made you their target

They thread carefully at first, knowing you are not only under Daniela’s protection, but by this also under Bela and Cassandra’s

Should they hurt you, it hurts Daniela, after all. Alas, you have three murderous fly women on your side

However…what they don’t know…

It starts off with a group of four who take, seemingly, immense pleasure in taunting you

Their hatred comes from being small minded, and jealous, yet knowing this does nothing to help you

They don’t understand- how come you get to wear a different uniform than them?!

How come you never have to clean up the table and wash the dishes and silverware?

How come you get to work in quiet, reserved locations and get to take so many breaks, while they are to work near the entrance to the dungeons, the screams of their fellow fallen maids taunting them

How come they fear for their life, and you never need to?

You are a target by far too soon

You often find yourself crying and hiding at your bed as they laugh and bicker about, silently wishing Daniela opts for a random visit and slays them all

She doesn’t, and won’t. She isn’t allowed into the maid quarters

Their shrill laughter and loud voices hurt your ears, and as you find yourself clutching one of the stuffed animals not tucked away in Daniela’s room- a grey, knit bear- they laugh even more

Soon, you are titled as a baby and inhuman for your affection towards the stuffed animal

You feel fear shoot through you whenever you don’t find him sitting at your pillow

Often, they wave the teddy in front of you, snickering and commanding this and that

They’re playing God, and for moments you feel as though they are the predators of this castle

With the wish to receive your stuffed animal again, you clean their beds and bring their plates, silverware and cups to the kitchens after supper

Usually, you receive your bear again

Not yet this time, it seems

“Go and get it, if you dare” they snicker as they throw it down the stairs to the basement

You gulp. You know, you aren’t supposed to go down there

No maid is, but especially you

Even Daniela has forbidden you from stepping in the cellars

You shudder at the memory of her truthful description upon being asked what lies down there. Monsters with swords and sickles, mold and blood, pain and the reek of the dead, corpses and torture chambers

But…your bear

You venture down as they snicker, and jump when the door clasps shut behind you

As tears sprint to your eyes, you hear a lock. No going back now, either way

You gulp at the loud whimpers and cries, and the distant screams and groans of the undead

It’s dark, and you can barely make a thing out

You jump when you hear a loud gasp from one of the cells and a hand reaches through the bars, as though to reach you

Immediately, you keep on running

More hands shoot out, some grazing your arm and dirtying your uniform, others mere inches away from your skin

You nearly trip a few times, the floor stony and littered with buckets, thrown over tables and chairs, dull knives and what not

It’s so dark, so that you can barely make out your own hands and the ones reaching for you

You shriek as a body bag drops in front of you, immediately taking off to run another direction

Again, you scream, when you run into something

A monster?! It’s so dark you-

“Uh-“

You blink at Cassandra’s voice, and upon opening your eyes, you find golden ones staring down at you

She seems almost unsure. You aren’t supposed to be in the basements, and were you anybody else, she would have already dug her sickle into you and called you a foolish prey for running right to her

But…you’re Daniela’s

You jump at a second gasp, and whine when another pair of golden eyes sets on you

Thankfully, these do not belong to Bela Dimitrescu. You recognize the light green colour shining through gold in them

Daniela!

She gasps when you run into her, quickly adjusting her hand so you don’t run right into the scalpel you can’t see in the dark

Immediately, her shock is covered by concern when she smells the fear surrounding you

She demands to know what you’re doing her, even if she feels flustered upon thinking you might have missed her and wanted to see her bad enough to venture into the cellars

Upon opening up about the bear, you feel her grasp your hand tightly

She promises, she’s going to find it with you

You nod shakily as Cassandra grins, having just received a reason to go upstairs and cause some more trouble along the maidens

With a lit torch held tightly in Daniela’s hand, it’s by far easier to navigate the dim basement

You realise the hands reaching out were maids, now backed far in the corner of their cells to avoid Daniela’s gaze

But the redhead doesn’t mind them. She is focused on finding your bear

And find him she does, after a while of searching

You nearly whimper when she holds it up between two fingers, the fabric soaked in blood and dirt and a rat having already started to eat away at its side

She hugs you tightly as she explains, it must be disposed of

It’s a major health risk by now, having been exposed to the mold of the basement and who knows what else

You spend the next couple of days entirely in her bed, cuddled up under the covers and crying your heart out between your other stuffed animals

At last, Daniela enters, a nervous smile on her face

You notice her hand behind her back, and lift your head curiously

“So, I know it’s not the same, but I told Bela what happened and asked her to fix it…”, she trails off

You can’t help but smile and cry as she pulls her hand to the front, a bear, knit nearly perfectly and in the exact same colour as yours, sitting in her palm

“She’s actually really good at this stuff. I made her make me an octopus. I named her Sally”

[beestriker015]

Mikan x loving and protective male s/o

(Non-killing game AU)

This poor girl has been abused and mistreated basically her whole life, so she was in for a big surprise when she went to Hope’s Peak and met someone who actually treated her with kindness.

“Hello! My name is s/o. Are you new here too?”

“Y-yes I am. M-my name is M-Mikan Tsumiki. I-it’s n-nice to m-meet you.”

The young man is slightly taken aback by her stuttering and timid response, but smiles at her warmly nonetheless.

“Nice to meet you too Mikan. I hope we can become friends.”

“F-friends? With me?”

Mikan mutters to herself and begins shaking a little, much to s/o’s concern.

“H-hey! Are you ok Mikan?!”

“P-please, if you’re going to h-hurt me, just d-do it quickly.”

The girl says in a quiet voice while looking like she’s ready to burst into tears any second now.

“Hurt you? Why would I do that? Calm down Mikan, I have absolutely no intention of hurting you.”

S/o tells her in a voice that makes Mikan relax a little.

“Y-you’re not?”

“No. Why would you think I would?”

She doesn’t answer and just hugs s/o for comfort.

“What has this girl been through to act like this?”

He thinks to himself before comforting the fragile girl, thus kicking off their friendship.

As time passed, s/o and Mikan grew closer and closer, leading to the development of feelings between the two.

Early on in their friendship, Mikan confided in s/o everything she’s been through, much to his shock and horror.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry you had to go through that Mikan!

He wraps his arms around her in a warm embrace, causing her to flinch a bit before relaxing into it.

“I-it’s alright s/o, I deserved to be treated that way.”

S/o breaks their embrace and gives Mikan a slightly stern look, while also being careful not to accidentally scare her.

“No you didn’t. Mikan, no one deserves to be treated the way you were, and as long as I’m around, you will never be treated like that again. I promise.”

“T-thank you s/o.”

Being a man of his word, s/o stayed true to his promise and protected his friend from her bullies (especially Hiyoko).

“Ew! Why is the pig here?!”

Hiyoko exclaims and points at Mikan, who tries stuttering out a response but can’t.

Luckily for her, s/o swoops in and proceeds to defend her.

“I asked her to come here with me. Do you have a problem with that Hiyoko? If not, keep your fat mouth shut and mind your own business.”

Hiyoko quickly runs away wailing as s/o gives Mikan a smile that she absolutely loves.

“God I hate that girl so much. Mahiru should really keep her on a tighter leash.”

“T-thank you for defending me s/o.”

“Of course! I promised you I wouldn’t let people treat you like that anymore didn’t I? I love you Mikan.”

S/o’s eyes widen as he realizes he unintentionally confessed his feelings as Milan’s face turns deep red with a blush.

“Y-you l-love me s/o?”

“Honestly? Yes, I do. Sometime after we became friends, I developed feelings for you that never went away. If you don’t feel the same, we can still be friends like we are now.”

“I d-don’t want to just be friends with you anymore s/o, because I love you too.”

She tells him with a shy smile before giving him a small kiss on the lips, making both of them blush.

As a couple, not much really changed from when they were only friends, except a little more cuddling and saying I love you to each other.

When it comes to giving and receiving attention, Mikan is still a bit reluctant due to her past, which s/o completely understands and respects.

It goes without saying that Mikan is incredibly touch starved despite being so sensitive to physical touch, but when it comes to her boyfriend, she practically turns into a puddle whenever he gives her a hug or some kisses.

(Mikan’s favorite way her boyfriend gives her affection is headpats. She. Loves. Headpats.)

S/o continues to protect and stand up for Mikan, maybe even more now that she is his girlfriend.

Being with s/o has had an immensely positive impact on Mikan as she’s become more assertive and doesn’t stutter like she used to.

“I won’t let you treat me this way anymore Hiyoko, I am tired of you calling me a pig.”

Her newfound self respect catches Hiyoko off guard.

“Y-you didn’t stutter. When did you suddenly grow a spine?! Tired of having your stupid boyfriend stand up for you?”

One thing Mikan absolutely doesn’t tolerate is hearing anyone talk badly of her boyfriend.

“S/o is not stupid! The only stupid one here is you!”

Caught off guard by Mikan yelling at her, Hiyoko runs off with crocodile tears in her eyes.

(If you can’t tell by now, I really do not like Hiyoko.)

Due to her not being overly shy and timid anymore, hardly anyone bullies or mistreats Mikan now, though s/o will still step in to protect her if someone does.

Whenever s/o is sick or needs first aid, his girlfriend the Ultimate Nurse is always ready to take care of him.

“I appreciate you taking care of me babe, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His words always make her heart flutter.

“I can say the same thing about you s/o. Now get some rest and I’ll check in on you later. Sweet dreams my beloved.”

Whenever s/o goes to sleep, it isn’t uncommon for him to wake up to find that his girlfriend had snuck into his room and snuggled up next to him in bed.

“This is too adorable. I don’t understand how anyone could be so cruel and horrible to the most precious girl in the whole wide world.”

S/o says to himself quietly as he gazes lovingly at the sleeping form of his girlfriend, who is laying next to him with a content smile on her face.

“It’s a bit early, so I might as well go back to sleep. I love you Mikan, sweet dreams babe.”

He whispers before kissing her gently on the forehead before lying back down beside her.

“Hahhhhhh…I love you too s/o.”

Mikan says in her sleep and unconsciously begins spooning her boyfriend, much to her embarrassment when she wakes up.

Overall, despite the horrible way she’s been treated in the past, Mikan thinks of herself as the happiest and luckiest girl in the world to be in a relationship with her loving and protective boyfriend.

[bornwholocker]

Yeah I’m making another character rant post sue me, but it’s actually crazy to me how many people I’ve seen just going full hater mode on toshiro?? Obviously you’re allowed to not like a character, but people are villainizing him so hard, it’s wild. Like as an autistic person who has had people pretend to be friends with them, yes that shit HURTS. And the way toshiro went about his relationship with laios(especially for so long) definitely wasn’t healthy, but also like. It’s so much deeper than that?? And I’m glad I’m starting to see more people talking about this lately because honestly, it’s right there guys.

First things first, I do want to remind people that being “polite” and not telling people you don’t like them, but subtly signaling it, is still the standard in most social situations! And it doesn’t make much sense to me and it sucks for a lot of people and causes miscommunication, but it’s not like toshiro’s some big bad evil guy for following unspoken social rules that most neurotypicals also follow. Also also, given that dungeon meshi’s setting is definitely not modern, the characters probably don’t know what autism is! They just know that Laios is weird about monsters and doesn’t do well socially. All the characters have problems, many of which are accentuated for us by how normalized a lot of things are in a modern world, and a lot of things not being acceptable/normal. Obviously these are still issues for the characters, and are addressed/resolved as such, but we need to put it in perspective just a little bit.

Toshiro lashed out because A) he had just gone through some CRAZY ASS SHIT, which I feel like no one brings up. He just learned that his party companions used illegal magic that pretty much everyone agrees is dangerous on the woman he loved (yeah the way he proposed to falin without any previous communication was weird but that’s a whole nother can of worms), and it ended horribly for her! and B) he was exhausted. He had just gone days with little to no food, very little sleep, and there’s Laios, well fed and rested and to toshiro, not at all treating the situation with the seriousness it deserved. And it just hit home with how much he and Laios had clashed, how Laios was so open and honest about every little thing, and oblivious to what toshiro thought was extremely obvious. Toshiro had been raised to be quiet, polite, respectful, etc. and as a result learned to bottled up his feelings, so when he saw Laios being able to say whatever was on his mind, he understandably envied that. Even though we know that it’s difficult to be on Laios’ end, toshiro saw it as a privilege. Not only that, but he had been trying to signal to Laios (not exactly effectively but) how he felt for YEARS. And his point never made it. Everyone talks about Laios being misunderstood, but what about toshiro? What about his years of trying to communicate in the way he knew, and not being understood? I think everyone knows exactly how frustrating it is to feel like we’re being SO obvious, only for it to still cause miscommunication. So why not extend that understanding to toshiro?

Aside from all this though, it’s still clear that he does care about Laios, even though he’s annoyed by him. He literally gives Laios a bell that, when rung, would ring a matching one and be a call for help. Another example- which albeit anime only’s probably won’t know, I only know because I saw the panel- is in the finale I think, toshiro defends Laios to the elves. He sticks up for him and places his trust in him, even after everything.

Neither side was really in the wrong, but people are bashing toshiro like crazy. Unfortunately we don’t have a lot of big scenes with him outside of that meeting in the dungeon, so most of our opinion is formed off of that one moment, but that moment tells a much bigger story than just, “toshiro bad and ableist, laios poor autistic puppy.” It’s been said countless times on this hell site and beyond, but I am BEGGING people to please have a little critical thinking as a treat. Like Ryoko Kui wrote this story and the characters so much more complex than good guy and bad guy. (Slight spoilers maybe) Not even the BBEGs are really all bad, when you get down to it. Everyone’s feelings and experiences are shown from their perspective and contextualized to the audience extremely well IMO, which is one of the reasons I love dungeon meshi so much. Anyway point is think deeper folks.

[darkcrowprincess]

Byler being dramatic idiots:

Mike twirling Will around, Will laughs: I'm telling you Will senior year is going to be great! It's going to be our year!

Will laughs: Your really think so?

Mike with the biggest smile in the world, stares into Wills eyes: I know so! No more upside down, no more gates, no more crazy governments or monsters! It will be smooth sailing from here on out.

As if to jinx them, Mr Clarke comes up behind the two boys: Oh, Mr. Byers (both Will and Mike stop to turn to him, Mike quickly putting Will back on his feet embarrassed), your interview with the New York Academy of the Arts has been rescheduled from three to three-thirty.

Mike shocked turns to Will as Mr Clarke leaves: New York? What’s that about?

Will blushes and turns away from Mike.

Mike confused: Will?

Will nervous but trying to fake being calm, turns to put his books in his locker: Oh, it’s just a silly interview, it’s nothing, not a big deal. These people in New York saw some of my artwork and liked it.

Mike is at first, so happy for Will/proud of him it shows on his face. He looks like he wants to kiss him to congratulation him. But his happy look changes, turns quickly to sadness as he has an unfortunate realization.

Mike's famous Mike grumpy temper slowly showing: Will Byers, when we were little kids, you promised me that we’d go to the same college together.

Will nervous and blushing: Oh I did say that? Didn't I?

Mike angry now: Yes! And you also told me that if I graduated high school, you’d take me to Las Vegas.

Will has been secretly trying to rip the bandage off because he doesn't think Mike loves him back: Right, Vegas. We were going to get El to help us cheat at gambling. I know, I didn't forget.

Will tries to nervously leave, but Mike firmly, but gently grabs Will's shoulder and turns him back around to face him.

Mike secretly hurt, but hides it with anger: Im happy you got the interview Will. Believe me I am! You deserve it. But you know I could never get into an art school. Especially one in New York! What's the deal Will?

Will showing his sad anime eyes: Well, New York is one of the many places I'm applying for schools Mike . I’m also applying to California and San Francisco. You know I need to leave this town Mike. I can't stay here.

Mike gasps theatrically, bringing his hand to his heart.

Mike being a drama queen: California and San Francisco? We never discussed those!

Will now being sassy and giving back at Mike, hands on his hips: Well, it doesn’t have to be California or San Francisco, Michael, it can be any places from your list. What’s on your list?

Mike really upset now, throws his hands in the air: You wanna know what’s on my list? Number one I don’t need a list, because my best friend, that I've know since we were 5! Wouldn’t apply to any schools I couldn’t get into!

Will worried and guilty: Your list makes me feel guilty.

Mike: Good!

Mike turns angrily, opening his locker.

Will: Mike, it's, you know, it’s early, I have no idea what my plans are. Nothing is definite.

Mike slams his locker shut.

Mike sounding like an angry house wife now: Oooooh. Interesting. YOUR plans. Not OUR plans. Hmmph. That's really great Will!

Mike crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips together. Will gets distracted by them. He stares at them.

Mike is too angry to notice.

Will shakes his head, and gets grumpy now too: Don’t you take that tone with me, Micheal Wheeler.

Mike turning his back to Will: I’m not taking any tone. If you want to go to college in New York, then go. It's perfectly fine! GREAT even! In fact, go now. Give you plenty of times to start making your new artsy college friends.

Mike walks away in a huff, nose in the air.

Will realizes he messed up follows: Wait Mike! Mike! Mike come back!

Mike not listening: I'm sure New York will love to have you Will! As I said you definitely deserve it! Send me a postcard!

Will: Your being dramatic!

Mike still walking away all dramatic: Well I'm sure you'll find less dramatic artsy friends in New York!

Will rolls his eyes: You are being ridiculous!

Will follows Mike out the door of the school. Both of them unaware how they sound like a married couple or how Lucas, Dustin, Max are walking behind them listening and staring at them.

Max: they're both idiots.

Lucas agreeing with Max: Yeah.

[po11yannaswife]

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑦 ✧₊⁺

𖹭 𝑃𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑥𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𖹭 ;

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼 ; 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑎 1921-1922

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑒/𝑆𝐴, 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑎, 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟-𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠, 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑇𝑆𝐷.

 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 , 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

The presence of her allure has left me helplessly and painfully in love with Polly Gray, I cannot bear to keep it inside me any longer as the woman has made comfort in living in my mind. I’ve never felt this mental since the war. War was where other people were hurt and my hands were bloodied from caring and saving them. Now I’m the one who’s hurt, and I don’t know how to care for myself with this absurd situation, in love with my best friend’s aunt. I hope for this love to pass on, pray even. But, if I pray, God would frown upon me for such a feeling, so for now, I shall only hope. 

I should only hope that Thomas doesn’t suspect a thing either, I feel like he’d shoot me in the head or send me away. He’d want his beloved aunt with a man who could protect her, right? I have to collect myself from this madness.

Yours truly.

You sighed as you dropped your pen onto the beaten desk, your hand clasped over your mouth. The words kept repeating in your head, and with every repetition of the situation, the worse it had seemed. You felt sick to your stomach at the feeling of feeling this way towards the woman, confusion and anxieties filling your filled enough head at the thoughts.

Finally deciding to snap your journal shut, you stuffed it under your stiff pillow and rubbed your eyes, blowing out the candles and shutting the golden light off. You got into bed, your only desire in that moment was to warm up under the blankets. Even with the twists and turns, the quick panic that settled in your chest every time you heard a sound that was either outside or imaginary, you fell asleep. All to do it once more the next day.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

 I don’t understand why Polly’s birthday is the best of my worries currently. Sabini has gotten much more violent, beating Thomas to shit, and no one can understand how much suspicion I have with Campbell. His lads saved him from being killed, which I appreciate wholeheartedly, but I know he wants something. I can see it and I’m scared for the Peaky Blinders safety. 

And Ada, beautiful Ada, almost taken by a group of Sabini’s men. Gloom has dawned over me that we are all in danger, I guess it’s what you sign up for when you join a gang in Birmingham. Fortunately, our men got to her in time, only god knows what would have happened to her if they didn’t. It makes me ill. I don’t want a mere thought of what would have happened to her. I especially want her safe, she has a baby, and no baby deserves to grow up without its parents. He doesn’t have a father already, bless Freddie’s soul. Hopefully, Thomas gives her a safer place to keep her and her child in good hands. 

I’m currently living in a..place, you can call it. Definitely not a home. It has one bedroom, no lavatory, one small den, a kitchenette, and a hall that goes to the front door. It’s better than having no home, and I am eternally grateful I am here instead of France slaving away as a housewife.

On other topics, I cannot explain how nervous I am to give her the gift I have made for Polly. It has taken me hour after hour but I have finally finished it. A blanket with navy and a darker shade of red patches that I’ve made sure are not itchy for good measure. I hope she likes it, she doesn’t like her birthday much though, and I’m not family so it may seem strange, but I swear it’s just to share my appreciation for her. I love the woman, well, in a friendly manner, and this blanket is to show her how much comfort she has given me in the past with just her words. It feels good to give back. Though Polly is a hard woman, what if she laughs in my face with the soft gift? I am getting too ahead of myself now. Time will only tell what tends to happen. She’s turning 38, but hell, she looks absolutely beautiful. Oh, Tommy got her a whole fucking house.

Yours truly.

After adding the last period, you glanced back at the handmade blanket, as said. The colours made you smile softly to yourself, hoping to god she would like it genuinely. It was disgusting how much you pricked yourself making the damn blanket, but it was worth it for Polly. You’d do anything for her. 

You closed your journal for the night, putting it under your pillow and turning all the lights off. You closed your newly bought drapes and got into bed, thinking of what Polly would think of the gift. You couldn’t tell if this was excitement, or nervousness. Nonetheless, it was on your mind until you drifted into another slumber.

But this was fully just a friendship between two women, right?

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

So, Polly’s 38th birthday went...adequate. That’s the word.

 I was ordered to clean the house and set it up for Polly early on so that they could give her the gift, which was exhausting but worth it. I fucking despise dusting, I know now. As they gathered, I felt somewhat ill at ease, contemplating isolating myself within the confinement of one of the rooms, waiting for the opportunity of a moment when private discussions would divert their attention. Being no kin to them, I presumed my presence unnecessary, no surprise to my confusion and wary demeanour upon Tommy's unexpected calling to the living room. When I came in, I noticed how confused and baffled Polly had seemed, while Arthur, Finn, and John were smiling like idiots. The sight made me smile. I cannot figure out why, but even Polly’s most mundane actions make me feel intimidated, as if I’m in the presence of royalty.

The only thing keeping me in that room was Thomas glancing at me and giving me the “stay right fucking there” look. I didn’t dare to move an inch, the thought of ruining the rare moment deemed unappealing.

When she looked at me I faintly smiled, which I now berate myself for. No clue why. I gave her the blanket after her and Tommy spoke and I tried my best to do it in private, not wanting to seem all strange. Her reaction was a little..delayed. That concerns me and has left such paranoia in my chest as if it’s smoke from a fire, but instead of coughing, my heart is going like fucking mad men. The only reassurances I have currently are the smile she gave me and the gentle embrace. I would stay in that hug for eternity if I could. Her smile is angelic and I would make a hundred more of those blankets if I could see that smile just for a second. 

Yet, the joy I find in her company is tainted by the antics of Arthur and John, which has made me feel even more wary of her feelings. 

I also have a feeling I’m going to be a part of this expedition to find her children somehow.

God help me.

Yours truly.

Another journaling of your feelings was finished, slamming the book shut afterwards and groaning into your hands. You just wanted to shoot yourself at this point, the humiliation of going practically red in front of her made you want to jump out your window. You paced your room for a bit, biting your nails and groaning over and over and cursing yourself for your actions only hours earlier.

What if she was calling her friends and making fun of you? Or stuffing the blanket in her new closet? Or giving it to someone as a hand-me-down? Your worries overwhelmed your head, tears actually starting to form. You couldn’t sleep, so you decided to do the best and most safest option.

Sit outside and smoke a cigarette. Your choice would have been going to the Garrison, but it was being remodelled, understandably. You needed a drink, anything, and the only drink you had was some milk which you bloody hated. So you were going to your almost empty pack of cigarettes, reminding yourself to get more tomorrow and calling it a night.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

It has been awhile, but my assumption of me being involved in finding Polly’s kids is correct. Well, kid. The realisation has overcome Polly of her one daughter being dead. It has drained me that she knows that her son is alive and she cannot see him because he isn't of legal age. I heard what had happened through Thomas, and beforehand, I’ve given the contacts to Michael with the fight of his adoptive mother in the country.. I hate doing this, but as I’ve said before, I’ll do anything for Polly.

Meanwhile, she has resorted to being impulsive and ignoring Thomas. I shouldn’t be as stressed as I am over this, logically I know that. This isn’t my business. I cannot help my emotions towards the situation, I also feel like, christ, I feel a lot of things, don’t I? As I was saying, I feel like I have no place in this cause I’ve never been a mother. I took care of my siblings and have a maternal instinct, yes, but I’ve never had a child of my own blood. This is Polly’s kid and I could never imagine how distraught she is of learning one is dead in Australia and the other she is restrained from seeing. 

On the bright side, the Garrison is opening soon. Tonight, actually. I can’t deny that I’m excited to see how it has changed. I’ve been here for two years and the old design was boring, and I refuse to tell them that the blow up may have been a blessing. I mean, who wants to go to the most known pub in Birmingham and sit in a dusty old one?

I hope this all resolves and that Polly sees her son. I’m always hoping for something, like a glutton for hope. I’m sinful enough these days.

Yours truly.

A sudden knock at your door made you jump, turning around to look at your window. You waited to see if there was another knock, which there was, and you sighed to yourself. Chester Campbell had been causing a riot across town, chaos causing you to be more paranoid than ever. You grabbed a blade that sat on your desk and crept down the hall, placing your hand on the doorknob and turned it, cracking it open with hesitation. The chain was still in place, so god forbid if it was someone to hurt you, they’d have some trouble first.

“Let me in.” Thomas ordered. You furrowed your brows, but did as he said, sliding the chain off and opening the door for him. “Remember how we spoke of that fucking Jew?”

You closed the door, humming, “Alfie Solomons? Yiddishers?” You questioned for confirmation, “And, let’s probably not call them a ‘fucking Jew’.”

“Yes, Solomons. I met that fucker today, gave me a bloody hard time when I gave him our proposal.” Thomas took out a cigarette, ready to light it. You opened your mouth to speak, wincing a bit. He glanced at you, puzzled.

“It’s a small place..the smoke will linger. It’s okay, though, you can smoke.” You politely stated, sitting down in a wooden chair. “Don’t go looking for alcohol either, I have none.”

“What the fuck do you have?” His words were muffled from the cigarette, lighting it up and handing one to you, putting the flame to the end of it once it was between your own lips. “We run a fuckin’ pub, and you’re out of bloody alcohol?”

“The pub is being remodelled, Tommy. And I’m not pestering you for a bloody drink.” Taking a drag from the cigarette, you sighed again. “If you want me to have a stock of whiskey, you’ll have to be ever so kind and give it to me. I’m not taking it from the pub without your permission.”

“Permission?” Thomas scoffed, leaning against the wall. “Y/n, you lost the need for permission when you were officially called to family meetings. You’re one of fucking us, not some prostitute. So when it reopens, take some.” 

The gesture was kind for Thomas, you smiled slightly. “I appreciate the reassurance.” You tapped your cigarette on an ashtray, squinting your eyes a little as you thought. “Are you doing alright? Need me to clean or bandage anything up? Any new pain?” 

He peered up at you, then to the side. “No. Just the pain of Polly being fucking stubborn.” 

“Do you think she’s coming to the opening tonight?” You questioned, fiddling with your fingers. “Not that I..am concerned-”

“Possibly.” He replied, studying you. “She’ll probably come and get drunk.”

“I don’t blame her..I mean, I couldn’t imagine hearing that my daughter is dead and I can’t see my son without smoking a pack or getting drunk.” He rolled his eyes at your reply, which you quickly defended yourself. “I’m not disagreeing with you, Tom. She needs to wait.”

“Are you coming to the opening?” The room was silent as you thought, a little uneasy now. You wanted to see it, you wanted a break from everything. Campbell, Sabini, Michael, just everyone. But, you also didn’t want any sort of trouble tonight.

Nonetheless, you nodded. 

“I’ll come to support.”

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

I have never been in such a chaotic situation until now. Michael, wonderfully came to Polly the morning after the opening, which probably wasn’t the best time. Or the greatest impression. 

Now, I think I mentioned how I gave Michael the info, but I didn’t give Polly the info that I did give Michael it and see him. I knew the bastard would say something when he saw me. The furious tension Polly had created in the room when Michael recognised me sent a shiver down my spine, I couldn’t look her in the eye. I was too afraid, still am. I’m mortified. We’re speaking soon and this is the first time I do not want to speak to her. All I’ve done is what Thomas says, but I know it was wrong to keep the secret of me seeing her son before her. I wanted to keep her safe by not getting into any sort of danger with the coppers. Now I question if it was worth it? I hope I live. It is rare for me to pray, always resorting to hoping and wishing, but once I hear the sound of a knock on my door, I’m praying, desperate for any civil deliverance. In hindsight, I should’ve taken some Tokyo before this to calm my nerves.

Yours truly.

The way your head turned when you heard the knock was as if you were in a horror movie and knew the killer was behind you. You stared at the journal for a few seconds, closing your eyes when you heard a second batch of louder knocks. 

You put the book away and stood up, slowly walking towards your probable demise. You couldn’t lie that you procrastinated not answering and just never going outside ever again, that wasn’t logical sadly. You mumbled a prayer under your breath and turned the doorknob, sliding the chain off and opening the door. You couldn’t look the woman in the eye, clearing your throat and just moving away from the door for her to come in.

She closed the door behind her and gazed down at you while you guiltily stood in the doorway of the den. Your nails scratched at the outside of your hand, leaving irritated lines of pure apprehension. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest, afraid of what she may do or say. Would she kick you out of the family? Shoot you? Tell you to never go near her again? Or her son?

“It’s utterly obvious when you’re guilty and nervous.” Polly flatly stated her observation, to what you looked up at. You took a step back when she took a step towards you, making her scoff. “I’m not going to hurt you, you silly girl.”

The nickname made you slightly blush, only nodding your head and mumbling an apology. You turned to go into the small room, tensely sitting down. She sat down across from you, looking you up and down. “Michael further explained what you did.” She began immediately, not in the mood to waste time. “I want to compare stories. So, go on.”

A shaky huff fell from your lips, feeling like you murdered someone or kidnapped a child. “Thomas led me into this. I had no malicious intent whatsoever, let me say that. I helped him find the documents, which brought him to take me to the country to give the information to Michael, as he thought it’d be less intimidating for a woman to give it instead of a man. I simply introduced myself and my intentions, handed him the card, took the tongue lashings from the hideous mother, and went on my merry way. Polly, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you in danger. I know if I would’ve told you, now do not take any offence, you’d probably pry the address out of me with how insistent you are. And if you went there, with your insisting, you would’ve gotten arrested. I do not want you in those vile places. All I desired was for you to get your boy back. That’s all my intentions were. I simply didn’t tell you for your sake.”

Incapable to meet her daggering gaze, you stared uncomfortably into your hands, anxiously waiting for her response. The fear lingered and it left you utterly mortified, her silence only increasing it. She observed your every movement, studying your body language and the look in your eyes. She contemplated for another few moments, sighing.

An alarming shift of the aura in the room occurred as her clenched fist inadvertently revealed a sharp blade, causing your eyes to widen in apprehension. Swiftly recovering, she composedly placed the weapon on the table before folding her now-empty hands together. The tense atmosphere surrounding you seemed to intensify as she watched the fear in your eyes intensify, your body involuntarily becoming more rigid, and your nails fiercely scratching at your hands in a display of discomfort.

“I find no need for the use of the blade,” Polly spoke sternly to get your attention back on her. “Liars need consequences. And you aren’t. I also do not think I’d even have the heart to hurt you.” Polly took both of your hands to halt your  scratching, sighing before saying, “Thank you for helping find my son.”

Tears burned at your eyes, squeezing her hands. You tried to smile weakly and she embraced you gently, her rage disappearing only to be replaced by more respect for you. “I apologise for being so-”

“No need, Polly. I understand.” You quickly cut her off, still breathing a little hard. “You're a mother. And that’s all the explanation I need from you..just, please don’t slit my throat.”

She glanced at the blade and put it back in her purse, “I don’t like liars in this family. You saw what that Grace did. So let this be a friendly warning, sweetheart.” Her tone was condescending at the end and you gulped, understanding her reasoning and whatnot. “I wouldn’t expect to have to do this again.”

She stood up, walking towards the door before pausing as she opened it, looking over at you. “Be a good girl and learn to offer some whiskey when you have a guest. It’s polite.” She gave you one last glance before exiting your home, leaving you red, wide eyed, and slightly humiliated.

After you collected yourself, you whispered, “I really need to get that whiskey.”

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

God, where do I start? 

Sabini has come through with his threats, and I must confess, I am afraid. A kid, a sweet lad that I had only a brief acquaintance with is now dead because of him. Throat slit in a dreary jail cell, makes me nauseous at the thought. He seemed very naive and somewhat innocent when I met him. I don’t know why Thomas allowed him to participate in this gang, especially when we have a couple of lads seeking our downfall. Bless the kid’s soul.

Unfortunately, a sense of dread has blocked my mind from any sort of joy anymore.  Arthur has been held at gunpoint, may I say deservingly, by a mourning mother. He fucking killed a kid in a wrestling match. Arthur is like a dog, if you get him going, angry enough, he will have not one single limit. His only goal is to scare his prey, and he fucking scared this one to the afterlife.

Chester Campbell is starting more racket with us, coppers, fucking everyone. His insatiable appetite extends beyond mere illicit pursuits, for he indulges in the most disgraceful and shameful vices with every available prostitute and vulnerable woman. It sickens me to the core to possess such knowledge of his guilty indulgences. Hell, could you imagine being so desperate to get your cock sucked and take advantage of  women that every town you go to for legal terms, you fuck every prostitute? What profession is this? If he ever says fuck the Peaky Blinders, I’m running.

Now, Polly. She has taken over my mind at this point. I don’t know what to do, I’m guilty of feeling love towards another woman and I cannot figure out a strategy to get myself out of this torturing infatuation. Why can’t I be attracted to a man?  In a world where every woman seems to be attracted to Thomas, I’m attracted to his aunt. I attempt to persuade myself that this affection is merely friendly, but the effort is becoming increasingly laborious. Being queer here is digging your own grave, and I’m not ready for that. I’m 22. 

I shall just confine my love for her on these pages, never to say them aloud.

Yours truly.

“Why can’t I just be attracted to men?” You whined into your hands desperately, pondering how you got yourself into this situation. Polly was killing you softly without knowing it. Even when you felt threatened by her, the embrace she gave made you feel secure and alright, like she would never hurt you unlike other people in the past. The scent of her perfume lingered as a memory which you desperately wanted to retrieve, yet you didn’t know how to be that close with her. You were friends, good friends, you couldn’t ruin this.

You finally just quit your pity and turned off the light, putting another layer on top of you due to the chill in the air. You slipped into bed before falling asleep rather quickly, hugging yourself as a reminder of possible comfort.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

I need a heavy drug. 

I have at once been burdened with Michael being the accountant below me, which automatically makes me need to teach him some things. Thomas should be doing this, and now I have to make sure he does nothing wrong.

It was his birthday a day ago, I didn’t attend because I have more work to get done, I did hear that he had some fun. Lucky him. Polly is still uneasy with him working for us since she doesn’t want him exposed to the violence and inappropriate behaviour we set..if only she fucking knew. Arthur gets a little mouthy when drunk, let’s just say that.

Speaking of, the three Shelby men have probably caused more conflict between Sabini and the Peaky Blinders. Quite possibly me as well, I’m guilty of being there. The Eden club, run under Darby Sabini, is pretty much destroyed. It was a sight that could set your blood cold and the amount of men that were trying to grind against me triggered impulsive desires to take a shattered piece of glass and slit my wrists until I bled out just to end the harassment. It was quite satisfying to watch Arthur beat the fuck out of two of the men who did so. I’m probably going to stay out of London for a while unless I’m visiting Ada.

As always, I wish for things to get better. It’d probably start with Sabini and Campbell being assassinated, in which I’d celebrate. Is that impolite?

Yours truly.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

My life has now taken a woeful turn. Everyone’s lives.

Michael hasn’t understood the consequences of actions, I presume. Chester Campbell has him in a cell, due to him burning down a pub. Arthur has also been arrested after being invited to Camden Town for Alfie Solomons invite of Passover. I don’t know the fully story, all I know is that he did something or Solomons is one fucking cunt. I know it all has to connect to Campbell. I knew it from the very start. 

Polly isn’t doing too dandy.  She's transformed into someone more severe, her words cutting like a knife, and her demeanour has taken a sharp and unapologetically harsh turn. I can grasp the reasons behind her behaviour, but it doesn't make it any easier to witness. She's determined to take Michael away permanently once he's released from prison, but deep down, I find it difficult to believe such a drastic outcome is promised. 

Furthermore, she's stirred up a troubling conflict with Esme, simply because she's not family by blood. The tension in the room became unbearable, and I desired to slip away unnoticed just to catch my breath. However, Polly's hand clasped my wrist tightly, forcing me to her side as if she was afraid to let go.

In the midst of this turmoil, I find comfort in expressing my thoughts through writing, knowing that this is my sole outlet to vent my emotions before joining Polly in the attempt to bail Michael out faster than Thomas can. I'm torn, for I'm reluctant to proceed with this endeavour, but my loyalty and vulnerability to Polly is victorious. After all, anything for bloody Polly, eh?

Yours truly.

You put the pen down and stood up, putting your coat over your shoulders and a pair of heels before running down the hallway to meet Polly. You needed a breather, a break. The morning was overwhelming enough, and for what was to happen next was unknown. She understood, giving you half an hour of preparation, which you were grateful for. 

She glanced at you before nodding her head, extending her arm. You stepped down the concrete steps that led to your door, awkwardly wrapping your arm around hers. “So, what’s the plan for this?”

She stayed silent for a few seconds. “You’re just my support, my second pair of eyes. Witness,” She stated, looking over at you to see if you were understanding, and you certainly were. “I’ll do anything to get Michael out. You understand to not interfere with anything, correct?”

The question made you puzzled, making you swallow hard. “Um, yeah. Polly, uh, you know I won’t let him hurt you though, right? This is-”

“I know who this is, Y/n.” Polly sterned, walking a bit faster now. “Thank you for wanting to protect me, but I’m an adult. I can take care of myself and my own fucking decisions.”

“Okay.” You simply replied in a soft murmur, instinctively tightening your grip on her arm as the unsettling thought of harm befalling her crossed your mind. She noticed, of course. The woman noticed everything.

Once you both stood in front of the building, she stopped you both. She leaned in, whispering quietly, “Whatever happens in here, stays between us.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring the peace before she dragged you along again, the coppers already knowing what she was here for. They lead you both to Chester’s office, and you felt your heart pound, your ears already ringing, the air around you tense, full of misery in a way. It was sucking the life out of you. 

“P-Polly, I really don’t have a good feeling.” You admitted in a hush tone, the fear in your eyes betraying the tough demeanour you desperately tried to be.  She took a quick look at you momentarily, using her free hand to gently move stray hair from your face. 

"Neither do I, love. Let's get this over with, yeah? You’re the bravest girl I know, you’ll be okay." Her words were tender, and the touch of her hand felt like a comforting embrace. But as the copper knocked on the door, announcing both yours and Polly's arrival, the warmth of that embrace faded, and you braced yourself for what laid ahead of you both.

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝐧𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

I can’t look at myself. I cannot bear to see such a failure. A weak, useless girl. I can’t handle it. I don’t know what to think, or say, or do. 

I can’t speak. My voice is gone from screaming like a lunatic, quoting from the coppers. I can’t comprehend what has happened, what happened to Polly, knowing I was a wall away, I was right there. I could’ve stopped him somehow. I could’ve sacrificed myself.  I could’ve protected her better if I wasn’t such a fucking coward. I knew when he started to mock her, belittle her. I heard the rest through the walls. My fingertips are raw, voice gone, throat is fucking gone. And so is everything I was before.

I hate myself when I see Polly. I can’t help myself but cry, I don’t know why. I wasn’t the victim, I just heard it. God, I feel like such a coward for crying while even writing this. Polly doesn’t seem fazed and I wish I can be like that. Why can the victim be so strong and seem alright and I’m here sobbing?

I wanted her to be okay. I wanted to protect her. When they let me out after she was finished, I didn’t want to look at her out of guilt. But she saw me and gave me her touch, and I swear, when I saw Chester in his doorway, with that smug smirk of satisfaction, I met something in me. Pure rage from the depths of hell.  I want to murder him. I want to cut his cock off and shove it down his throat, making him silent like he is to Polly. I want to burn him alive. I want to do everything and anything that causes pain to him.

 I want him fucking dead. I want him deceased, I say this with every ounce and inch and fucking soul of my being, unapologetically. I want him to feel the burden of being murdered without dying. Then dying. He is a murderer of purity, security, any sort of worth a woman has. Yet, he longs without consequences. 

I realised how much this has affected me, as selfish and victimising it sounds. I’ve wanted to take a gun to my head and kill the guilt by killing me. The guilt he tended to make for me. He took advantage of Polly’s vulnerability, knowing how guilty I’d feel, replacing how he should feel the guilt.

All I yearn for is for Polly to be safe, and I cannot seem to do that simple task.

I will go by her words, but they’ll never fade the guilt and hatred I have for myself because of this. Michael can go die in a ditch as well for being humiliated by his mother for sacrificing herself.

Yours truly, I guess.

You stared at your ceiling after taking hours to write. Your eyes were in pain from how much you sobbed, not allowing Polly to see you like this. You were back in your home as she let you know she was okay enough, pushing you out practically. The moment you walked into your house, you collapsed.

That night as you changed, seeing the harsh bruises of the coppers as they dragged you away, the grins haunting you, Polly’s eyes widening at your horrific screams, Campbell smirking.

“No! Please! No!” Screaming as loud as you could, only getting more vicious as the coppers dug their hands into your shoulders, their free ones groping you in the process. “Don’t you dare! Don’t touch her! Polly! No, no, no!”

“No, no, no, please.” You strained, whimpering, hugging yourself and closing your eyes. Tears fell down your cheeks, beginning to feel as if you were back there, being thrown into a cell. The cold air sends you into spasms, your fingers pulsing at the memorial feeling of scratching against the concrete wall. “Stop. Stop it.”

“Don’t hurt her! Ugh!” The two men voices filled your ears, calling you crazy and mad, throwing you into the cold and gloomy cell with little light. You crawled back, “Tell him I will sacrifice myself for her! Please! Tell him! Polly doesn’t deserve this! No!” You begged and you pleaded, watching them as they laughed at you like you were some sort of entertainment. You couldn’t breathe, your limbs trembled, your sobs of desperation making it hard for you to form full sentences and only spurring the two men on.

"Stop, stop, stop," you whispered desperately, attempting to wrench yourself away from the abyss of torment that engulfed your mind. Struggling to break free from the grip of haunting memories, you yearned for respite from the mental anguish.

Suddenly, a loud knock resounded at your door, jolting you back to reality in an instant. The unexpected sound shattered the tormenting reverie, causing you to snap back to the present, only to find yourself gripped once again by fear and apprehension.

Reluctant and hesitant, you hesitated to open the door down the hall. Fully aware of your dishevelled appearance, evidence of recent tears on your face, you tried to ignore the persistent knocks, hoping to escape any unwelcome intrusion. Your hand instinctively rose to cover your mouth upon hearing Polly's voice, her words cutting through your emotions.

"I know you're in there, Y/n," she called out, her voice carrying a mix of concern and determination, leaving you torn between facing her and keeping your despair hidden from view. “Let me in.”

A shuddering breath fell from your lips, retrieving a robe to cover yourself up with. You walked down the hall, wiping tears off your face to try and make it not so obvious you were bawling. 

You opened the door after unlocking it, face to face with Polly. She seemed exhausted, basket in her hand, her hair pulled back. Her eyes fluttered when she saw you as you waved and pointed to your throat. You could speak, just barely and it hurt like hell. Her eyes fell to the bruises that were visible on your collarbone, her hand reaching out to inspect the wound. 

As she let herself in, she pointed down the hall and asked, “Your bedroom down there?” You simply nodded. She took your hand and led you down the hall, welcoming herself into your golden lit room and sat you down on your bed. She sat beside you, continuing her inspection in which you couldn’t comprehend why she even cared. Her cold fingers grazed over it before meeting your eyes, nodding at your shoulder, “May I?”

With a tentative nod, you granted her the consent she sought. Gently, she lowered the satin robe to reveal more of your shoulders, and as she did, you couldn't help but inhale sharply, the sight of your wounds making you wince. Her touch brushed against a particularly sensitive cut, causing you to flinch away instinctively, murmuring an apology for the involuntary reaction.

"Please, don't apologise," she whispered, pulling the robe back up and smoothing it down with care. Lifting your head, her hands cupped your jawline, locking eyes with you in a moment of profound intimacy. "I'm sorry I put you through all this," she said, her voice filled with genuine remorse.

Despite the pain and tears welling in your eyes, you mustered the strength to speak, though your voice was faint and weak. "Not... not your fault," you managed to say. "I'm sorry for not protecting you better."

Her heart ached at your words, and she tenderly kissed your forehead before enveloping you in her arms, mindful of your injuries. Without hesitation, you clung to her tightly, finding solace in the embrace, just as you had done two nights prior. Her fingers attempted to run through your hair, but the tangles proved too stubborn. She gently pulled away, standing up to fetch a hairbrush from your vanity, where she noticed your journal resting.

You noticed it as well, panic settling into your chest as you made haste to snatch the journal from your desk and snapped it shut. Luckily, the page it was on wasn’t spilling your love for her, but it was telling how guilty you were.

She sighed as she sat back down, taking some of your hair and brushing it out. “I should be taking care of you, Polly.” You rasped, rubbing your neck in circles. She paused for a moment, before continuing to brush your hair, slower this time.

“Sweetheart, you have. I may have been drunk, but you took care of me. No one has ever held me the way you have, bathed me as humiliating as it is like you did. You went through the force of knowing it was happening, yet you still put me before you. Now, it’s my turn.” She explained, gently getting every tangle and knot out. 

“You don’t hate me, right?”

The weak voice you had as you asked the heart wenching words made her stop, letting herself take a deep breath. 

“I could never hate you, Y/n.”

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

Polly and I have been recovering from the recent events that have happened, and I will say, I am better than I was a week or two ago. Still in a light form of shock and grief with terrible paranoia, but I’m okay.

It is early morning as I write this, and today's plans for everyone are the definition of risky. The Peaky Blinders, Thomas, and the Gypsies are uniting to seize control of Darby Sabini's race track, a venture that sways on the cliff of peril. My heart is heavy with concern for their safety, knowing all too well the unforgiving nature of both Sabini and the relentless coppers. I find myself anxiously hoping that Thomas has arranged a cunning distraction or perhaps struck a deal with Moss to avert any interference, lest the consequences be dire. For if their moves are exposed, they may all find themselves awakening in a place far from here, taken by our foes. The stakes are high, and I can only pray that their courage and wit prevail in this risky endeavour.

On the other hand with less importance, a bit more of a quarter percentage of the business has been given to Alfie Solomons in Camden Town, which in my opinion, may be a foolish action. I’ve met Alfie, a nice guy, but I don’t know if we can trust him. Well, nice isn’t the best word, he’s something, alright?

For me, Polly and I are bound on a fateful errand, and the anticipation has kept me restless, robbing me of sleep. Together, we've carefully devised a plan, a method to exact the vengeance he so rightfully deserves. I dare not delve into the particulars, as the utmost secrecy is essential to safeguard our intentions.

His actions have left us with no alternative; his existence must be brought to an end. Our hearts are set on ensuring justice prevails, even if it requires crossing dark and dangerous morals. With every fibre of my being, I hope and pray that our endeavour proves successful, delivering the retribution he has earned.

Our circle of trust is small, limited to Polly, Thomas, and myself, as we keep the knowledge of our intent deeply concealed. I prefer it this way, shrouding our actions in secrecy until our mission reaches its conclusion. It is Thomas who set this course of action in motion, and I am grateful to him for it. He has paved the way for Polly to carry out this decisive act, and for that, I am deeply appreciative.

I wish no one dies today except Campbell and anyone who wishes upon the Peaky Blinders downfall.

Yours truly.

“What will happen if this doesn’t go to plan, Polly? What if-”

“Will you please close your mouth and sit quietly?”

It had been hours later and you were in the car with Polly, not being able to stop moving or rambling on the possibilities of what may happen, while Polly seemed stable. You were her support, once more. The unknown of what may happen in the next hours scared you shitless, not feeling this sort of fear since the war. 

“I’m sorry..” You breathed out, loosening the neck of your blouse a bit. “I’m just-”

“Scared? Y/n, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You turned your head to look at her as she drove, “What about you, Polly? I’m mostly anxious over you, I admit. What if he-” Her gloved finger pressed over your lips, shushing you. “Sorry.” You muffled against the finger and she swiftly took it away, stopping in front of the bar.

The woman turned to you one last time, “You go in the booth next to his. When you hear the gunshot, walk out.” Her voice was full of authority, not moving her glance from your eyes once.

“Yes ma’am.” You blurted out, watching as she made sure her gun was loaded before putting it into her purse. You got out when she did, beginning to scratch at your arms and hands again, but this time, it started to get so hard that beads of blood began to form, not coming to your attention, though.

The two of you strided into the bar, afraid but knowing this needed to be done. You instantly made sight with the phone booths, seeing the fedora that looked all too familiar. Though, to your unfortunate luck, all the booths seemed to be filled. You looked at Polly who was already looking at you, subtly pointing to a table that was near the booth Campbell was in.

With apprehension clawing at your heart, you discreetly parted ways with her, maintaining a facade of normalcy as you took a seat and pretended to watch her walk towards the booth. As his eyes met Polly's, you knew he also caught a glimpse of you, and in that moment, you locked gazes, sensing it would be the last time he'd ever see you.

The door sealed shut after his greeting, and you couldn't help but turn away, fixating on the table, your heart pounding so vehemently that it sent sharp pains through your chest. The fear of him causing harm to Polly, the strategy falling apart, weighed heavily on your mind, manifesting in the form of feral scratches that marred your poor hands, which bled relentlessly.

In that tense moment, the only sound you craved was the gunshot, signalling the successful execution of your plan. You scanned your surroundings, desperate to ensure no coppers were lurking nearby, and to your relief, you spotted none. Unable to hear their conversation, you waited with bated breath, until the creak of the door opening was followed by a guttural, choked sound. It brought a sense of grim satisfaction.

Time seemed to slow, as if the world paused to witness the unfolding events. The deluge of emotions overwhelmed you. your heart aching, your head feeling light, your ears ringing loudly, and your thoughts in disarray, overtaken by panic.

Then, a gunshot pierced the air, and you could hardly believe your ears. Slowly, you turned around, praying that Polly would emerge unharmed. In that moment, all other noises appeared muffled, and the dizzying sensation persisted.

As the scene unfolded before your eyes, you clung to the hope that it would be Polly who emerged from the booth. The background voices sounded distant, drowned out by the intensity of the moment.

As Polly finally exited the booth, you rose from your seat, nonchalantly straightening your dress, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the bloodstain on her attire. It was impossible to overlook, yet she seemed to be oblivious to it, her gaze fixated elsewhere, her eyes betraying a mélange of emotions, sorrow, shock, and a keen sense of relief.

You didn't exchange a word or even a fleeting glance; instead, you simply fell in step behind her, a shared understanding passing between you. The surge of emotions inside mirrored her own relief and hope, knowing that he was likely no more. In that moment, you both moved forward, united by the weight of those complex sentiments.

Now, your only worry was Thomas.

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟐

Chester Campbell is deemed dead, and we are no suspects. I haven’t felt so relieved in years. The plan was executed on correct terms, and we have been rewarded with the sense of safety, security, and not as threatened any longer. Especially Polly.

Thomas..he..was almost killed, but luck had sided with him. From then on, we have gotten the announcement of Grace and him together once again, and how Grace is pregnant. I cannot imagine a little Thomas Shelby. I hope Grace has some good blood in her to outweigh the cold.

Christmas is soon, and even if it isn’t very celebrated here, I’ve gotten the best present of all. Karma and Polly. She has chosen to invite me to her home during the two festive days, and I’ve never been more honoured and relieved I won’t be spending the holidays alone in this tiny space I call home.

This new year, I hope for it to be much more peaceful, much more..smooth. This year has been a wreck, and we have ended it with a sense of closure that I couldn’t ever be more thankful for.

Yours Truly.

[voteforspoon]

It’s time to acknowledge the fact that some of you feminists are making matters worse. This is not me saying that male privilege does not exist. This is not me saying that men are not responsible for higher rates of crime and other problems. This is me saying that hearing crap like “kill all men” and “we hate men” is only causing more problems. There are young boys going into their teenage years, some of their most formative years, hearing these things and you know what they do? They go to the right wing nut jobs who tell them that actually, men do have value, and men are good. When these boys seek validation they follow a bread crumb trail that leads them to thinking women are inferior, that women are bad, yada yada ya. Because when they are at a vulnerable spot and looking to the outer world for this first time they are told that they are bad and evil because they are men. So they (completely justifiably) walk toward the group who tells them they do have value and a lot of it. I know this is true because I was once one of those boys. And when I heard women saying those things, saying men are evil, it really hurt me. Because I wasn’t. I was a bright eyed innocent kid, who didn’t get why people hated other people. And I was indoctrinated because some people told me that I did have worth while others told me I did not, simply by my gender. This is not to say feminism is bad. Nowadays I’m proud to say I am feminist. But this is to say that some of you are in fact the bad guys. And you need to be made aware of that. You create some of the most vile hate toward women by spewing some vile hate towards men. Hating one another is the problem in the first place. It starts to make sense that men start leaning right as a whole when a lot of the most vocal voices on the left tell them there isn’t a place for them on the left. And when the right brainwashes these boys into thinking these horrible ideologies, it makes sense that boys start to go down a spiral that causes them to commit more crimes. Because now they think they are better than women, that women are objects these men are deserving of because of their manhood. This is not to take fault off the right and the teachers of these ideologies. But the fact is a lot of the boys walk to the right because of hate spewed from the left. And while some, like myself, find their way out of that dark place, many don’t. Please. For the love of people everywhere. Stop saying hateful rhetoric. Stop saying men are better than women. Stop saying men are worse than women. Stop saying that men deserve more or deserve less than women. We’re all people here. Trying to survive and trying to be loved. especially when we’re kids. Please let these young boys see that they have value so they don’t find it in right wing grifters. We gotta love people, if we don’t love our fellow humans then we are another part of the problem. I beg that you don’t subject more young boys to the same horrible things I was subjected to, from both sides of the political spectrum.