#and their supposed evidence was that /well she gets away with a lot so/ as though that's any kind of proof

[fromtheseventhhell]

I'm not even surprised because this is the natural progression of claiming that female characters who don't conform to the patriarchy have "masculine privilege". Still, I can't get over the absurdity of claiming that a female character who was usurped on the basis of misogyny somehow benefits from the system responsible. These people really have no critical-thinking skills

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) [teaser]

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

READ FULL FIC HERE!

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (none in teaser) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT: est. 25k

WORD COUNT [teaser]: ~820

RELEASE DATE: est. october 2nd 2023

!PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST (ageless blogs WILL NOT BE ADDED)!

masterlist

WARNINGS [!is subject to change upon publishing of the full fic!]: slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, (smut tags in the full fic)

[A/N]: I worked rlly hard on the banner pls look at it ‼️ enjoy hehe also this is probably gonna be way more than 25k but I supposed its better than overshooting

teaser under the cut!

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard. 

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

[changbunnies]

Desire, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin

♡ Genre: little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot, sequel to scent of you, past dubcon from part 1 is discussed

♡ Word Count: 10.9k (i have got to stop doing this, my god)

♡ Summary: In which the bunny hybrid “little red” has been unable to forget her past encounter with the wolves of the forest, and goes to seek them out for more fun together- while also being in the throes of her heat. 

♡ Warnings: same as before; uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is in heat so... yeah, pet names (though mostly as a title- bunny, little red, and sweetheart), more use of the word slut + gendered language, dom/sub dynamics (dom!chan, switchy!changbin, sub!reader), lots of kissing, size difference, size kink (again i'm sorry if you're tall, pls suspend ur disbelief for the dynamic fsdgsdf), outdoor sex :'), manhandling, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, orgasm control + denial, subtle mxm may not actually be all that subtle + more of the onesided rivalry between binchan lol, mates / mating, biting, nipple play, overstim, multiple orgasms, choking kinda? reader just gets held by the neck lol, handjob, cum eating, multiple creampies

♡ Notes: this is a sequel to scent of you, which you can read here! so i fully intended to still be on a small break and this was not supposed to be a series but i literally could not stop thinking about what would happen next for them and i had to write it :’) i hope you enjoy <3 

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you stare up at your barren ceiling, sweat dripping from your brow as your limbs grow tired and ache with exertion. How long had it been since the night you got lost deep in the woods, only to be found by Chan and Changbin? Two wolves who you would still think you imagined were it not for the note they left behind, clear evidence that everything you experienced with them was real. It wasn’t something your psyche conjured while lost and alone in the dark woods, the pleasure wasn’t a vivid dream made in an attempt to cope with the reality that you were lost- everything about them, about that night, was entirely real.

You can still remember how you tucked your note away into a pocket of your dress before you opened the cottage door, your grandmother scrambling up to her feet when she heard you enter, rushing off her bed and out of her room as fast as her weak legs could carry her. You met her halfway, catching her as she stumbled, her arms squeezing you tight as relief washed over her. You knew she must’ve been beside herself with worry, but actually experiencing it made guilt strike your heart like lightning; and when you opened your mouth to speak, she simply shushed you, requiring no explanation. 

Your grandmother wasn’t stupid, she knew a predator had caught you- your cape was torn in several places and you positively reeked of wolf, but rather than comment on it, she was simply grateful you were back home in one piece. There were very few things a rabbit could do to ensure their survival against a wolf, and she was wise enough not to pick at the fresh wound you may very well harbor for having done the unspeakable in exchange for your life. 

She let the topic of wolves die right then and there before it could even be spoken, simply dedicating herself to stitching your cape back together, doing her best to make it appear as if it had never torn at all. And not being forced to discuss what happened that night was certainly a relief, but not for the reasons your grandmother might expect. Because how would you explain to her that you actually liked the wolves that had found you in the deep, dark woods that night?

It’s utterly shameful how even now you still think of them, how their touch still feels engraved in your skin even as each season comes and goes. Shameful, how you look at that note they left behind as a sign that they’d want you back in their arms, that perhaps they think of you as much as you think of them. And they knew where you lived, they could easily seek you out whenever they pleased, but they never had. 

You assume it to be for the same reason they likely left you outside instead of carrying you to the front door of your cottage, or opening the door to bring you inside your home- because you lived with your grandmother, and what would that poor, frail woman do if she was confronted with the sight of two massive wolves holding her precious granddaughter? But despite the logical reasonings, there was a part of you that still felt.. rejected, somehow? 

It was fucking dumb, you knew this, but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling that way. You just wanted to see them again so badly, to look at them and touch them and let them touch you and bask in the warmth of their skin, to lay yourself against their massive bodies and revel in how feeling small was good in their presence. Safety, protection- the complete opposite of what you should feel from them, the complete opposite of what you felt when you first laid eyes on Chan and then on Changbin, but somehow by the end of the night, that had all changed. 

To further complicate matters, your heats have since made the disgraceful yearning you feel exponentially worse, your mind flooded by the memory of them, your body aching to feel them again, every nerve inside you practically screaming for their touch. You are typically quite prepared for your heats, often stocking up on the herbs needed to brew natural remedies meant to make your symptoms more bearable so that you can be an effective caretaker for your ill grandmother, and they usually did well enough for you. 

Of course, it’s not a magic cure-all, nor does it completely alleviate any of the discomfort you feel, but it’s enough; and you still need to make yourself cum a couple times before the night is over, but you can at least go about your day with little issue until the remedies effect begins to wane. This week, and tonight specifically, was supposed to be more of the same- prepare dinner, get grandmother comfortably into bed, and then take care of yourself in the privacy of your room.

If all went as expected, you’d feel satisfied enough to get some sleep, the next day you’d start your morning by brewing and drinking your homemade tea to calm your nerves, bring down your heightened temperature, and ease any aches you may experience. You’d carry on through any remaining discomfort as best you could as you spent another day taking care of your responsibilities until night came, rinse and repeat for essentially a week until your heat eventually recedes and you can go back to your daily tasks as normal. 

Why had it become so different after meeting Chan and Changbin? While going through a heat without a partner is never a comfortable experience, what you experienced now was downright unbearable; nothing you did to calm yourself or your body ever seemed good enough, none of your orgasms satisfying enough to dull the incessant need for something more, your only relief coming from driving yourself to utter exhaustion, when your body would be forced to give itself to sleep.

It didn’t make sense- it’s not like you were a virgin before you met them, you had your fair share of fun experiences with a few trusted friends of yours before you moved in with your grandmother to care for her. So certainly, while you weren’t exactly super promiscuous in your personal life, you were no stranger to sex, and you never fixated on your past partners during your heat the way you do now with Chan and Changbin. 

If you had to guess, it must be because of how different they were. Nothing about them was familiar, and that brought a unique sort of excitement you’d yet to feel again since that night had come to an end. Could that feeling be replicated with another rabbit? You weren’t sure- and even if it could be done, would you want them over the two wolves? That was another thing you’d found yourself stuck on lately; was it them specifically that you wanted, or just a similar experience, in which anyone would do as long as they successfully replicated the sensations? 

Either way, you spent yet another night in unsatisfied yearning, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take it. And your poor grandmother would suffer for it, as your scorching fever and addled mind made your ability to care for her deteriorate. Compounding on that even further, your longing for them was becoming increasingly heightened as you became more and more desperate for relief- a desperation that would drive you to make foolish decisions you wouldn’t otherwise make. 

You look again at the note the two wolves left behind, clutching it tightly in your hand as you consider what you should do next. If you go see them again, grandmother will know- their scent will be all over you when you return, and what will you say? Will you admit you liked them and sought them out on purpose, or will you make up some stupid excuse, blaming your every decision solely on your heat, chalking your choices up to a lapse in judgment brought on by your need for relief? 

But the simple truth is that it isn’t just your heat that makes you want to see them again, and even if you did place all of the blame there, it wouldn’t change what you have come to realize about yourself. The shameful reality is that you’re attracted to wolves- those two wolves in particular, and no one but them will be able to grant you the specific relief you seek. 

And you know how dangerous it is to leave your home when you’re in heat- your scent could attract far more than just Chan and Changbin, and truthfully speaking, there is no guarantee that you will find them before someone else finds you first. You’d be walking blindly, mirroring what you’d done the first time you were lost in the woods at night, though this time with the explicit hope that you’d be found by them. 

It’s dangerous, it’s foolish, you absolutely should not go into the woods at night looking for a fucking wolf- but that’s exactly what you do. Not even bothering to change out of your nightgown and into proper outdoor attire, you opt for tying on your cape and pulling up the hood, knowing they will instantly recognize you if you’re wearing it (as if they need more than just your scent to identify you in the first place.)

Just in case, you hastily write a note for your grandmother in the event that you aren’t back before morning, apologizing as you explain in the briefest of terms that you needed to soothe your growing ache. She’ll understand, you hope- she was young herself once, and surely she remembered what this feeling was like. And foolish though your choice may be, you hope she’ll sympathize and scold you lovingly instead of harshly upon your return. 

The night air feels impossibly cold on your fevered skin, but it’s hardly a deterrent- in fact, you welcome the way the wind chills your sweat, a small, but much appreciated form of relief before you hopefully experience what you truly wish to. Honestly speaking, you have absolutely no fucking clue where you are going; there is no path to follow to their den, no landmark for you to use in an attempt to guide yourself to your destination. You simply wander in the direction you hope is correct, praying the one (or ideally both) of the two wolves you so wish to find stumbles upon you. 

You glance up at the sky, the waning moon and countless stars shining back at you; a full moon is coming, and you wonder if they even have time to play with you at all. You don’t know all that much about wolves outside of what is required for self preservation, but you do know that the full moon is important to them; will they even entertain you right now? Maybe this truly is a fool’s errand, maybe you’re making a mistake and getting yourself lost for nothing, maybe-

Suddenly you’re being grabbed, body being forcibly turned around and back shoved harshly against a thick tree you’d passed just moments prior. Your breath hitches, and your nose recognizes who it is before your eyes do- it’s Changbin, caging you in and looking down at you with a clenched jaw, his claws digging into the bark of the tree he has you pressed against, clearly trying very hard to control himself. 

“Y/N-” he breathes, voice strained as he uses your given name for the first time, and hearing it from him makes a new, fresh wave of heat crawl over your body. “What are you doing walking around out here smelling like that? Are you insane?” Unable to control yourself now that he’s close, you immediately grab at his shirt, twisting the fabric in your hands as you look up at him with pleading, glassy eyes. 

“B-Binnie, I- I was looking for you, needed to find you,” you explain, your voice embarrassingly weak with desperation, “need you and Channie to help me, please.” His grip tightens, you realize- the sound of wood cracking and splitting audible just behind your head. “Please? I’ll be a good bunny for you again, I promise, please help me,” you continue to plead, shamelessly pawing at him, begging for him to accept your advances. 

Holy shit, are you seriously doing this to him right now? Begging him to take care of you? Him? A wolf? A rabbit begging a wolf for something like this is completely unheard of, only occurring within his wild fantasies. To be quite frank, he was aware that the first time with you was coercion- he and his elder saw a meek, defenseless rabbit, and they took their chances. He had his fun, and while you did too when things really got going, he fully expected that to be it, though he hoped otherwise. 

And God, he can’t even believe how reckless you’re being; what if it was one of the other wolves patrolling this area tonight that found you instead of him? He can only imagine how the younger wolves in the pack would react to your scent right now- he’s barely keeping himself in control as it, and he has much more experience with these matters than them. He clenches his teeth as his gaze trails away from your eyes and down your body, where your nightgown leaves very little unexposed, where you are very clearly pressing your thighs together as you stare up at thim, expectant and hopeful. 

Fuck. You really want this, don’t you? “Fuck, yeah, okay, just-” Changbin says as he picks you up, tossing all his responsibilities aside as you’re lifted from the ground and cradled in his arms, “just hang on, we’ll go find him, okay? We’ll help you.” And he’s trying, he’s really fucking trying to control himself and not just throw you down on the ground right here and have you all to himself, but you’re making it increasingly harder to maintain focus on the task at hand as he winds his way through the forest. 

Chan’s scent is barely discernible over the way yours intensely fills his nostrils, and even when he does manage to pick up on his elder’s location, he can hardly even focus in on it. And your hands wont stop roaming over his skin, you press your body to his as much as you can manage, absolutely desperate for contact. He can hear you panting despite the fact that all he’s doing is holding you, can feel your body tremble in his arms, can smell the slick that steadily leaks from your core. And to put it simply, Changbin is a weak man, and your desperation is utterly infectious. 

But still, he holds strong; that is, until you start pressing kisses to any patch of his skin you can reach, and when your breath hits his neck before your lips latch on to it, he feels completely done for. This is it. Fuck it. Chan can have his turn with you later- Changbin is the one that found you, it’s only fair that he has fun with you first, right? And besides, you’re acting positively insatiable right now- how is he supposed to hold off or say no? That’s quite literally asking him for the impossible. 

So he falls to his knees, your bodies tangled together on the grass in a matter of seconds, your clothes being thrown off in a flurry. Changbin rotates to his back, pulling you on top of him, deciding that he should still be a gentleman even when his composure is at its limits and not let your bare skin touch the dirty forest floor. He grabs your face, pulling you in to kiss him before you’re even fully settled on his lap; it’s a bit awkward, given the size difference between you, but he makes it work, curving and twisting his body however necessary to keep his lips on yours as you adjust your positioning. 

Your slick drips and pools, coating him entirely with no effort expended on either of your parts. He’s even bigger than you remember, and that feeling of pure adrenaline inducing excitement that you’ve missed so much finally returns to you. This is what you needed all this time, what you’ve been craving. You grab the base of Changbin’s cock with one of your hands and do your best to line it up with your hole- and again, it’s awkward due to the difference in size between you, but you’re determined to see this through.

“Wait, fuck, sweetheart-” Changbin gasps as you begin to sink down on him. He fully intended to get you prepped first, was going to pull you up after he got his fill of kisses and have you sit on his face, make you cum and loosen you up enough to take him, but apparently you felt that you’d waited long enough to have him inside you again. And you’re so fucking wet that the slide down is relatively easy; benefits to being in heat, you suppose- it makes your fervent desperation for cock come with far less sting.

And no doubt, there is still a sting- after all, your body isn’t made to take a size so disproportionate to your own, but all it does is further ignite the fire in your gut, the excitement swelling as you take more and more of him inside. Changbin uses one hand to bear his weight and keep himself propped up while the other holds your face in place, his tongue shoved in your mouth. 

He hardly lets you pull away for a breath before you’re dragged back to his lips, a deep, grumbly groan coming from deep in his chest when you meet his tongue with enthusiasm. Your palms are pressed firmly on his chest, your nails digging into the surprisingly soft flesh, your every moan and whine swallowed by his open mouth until your hips finally become flush with his. You know you should feel the utmost shame, desperate as you are for a wolf, stark naked and exposed in the open forest where anyone could stumble upon you, but all you feel is relief.

True, delightful relief, finally- Changbin gives you everything you need just as easily as you’d hoped he would. You mentally compared him to a puppy during your first meeting- desperate, easily excitable, cute in a way that juxtaposes his rough exterior. And you knew, just knew he’d never deny you if you offered yourself to him, because it’s simply not within him to do so. A desperate puppy with his equally desperate bunny- what better pairing could there be? 

And truly, you feel like heaven- your body, so small in comparison to his, makes you feel impossibly tight, your wet warmth utterly perfect and beyond compare; he could die right now, and feel that his life was entirely fulfilled. “Be a good girl, and show me how good bunnies can bounce,” Changbin breathes as he lets go of your face, now supporting himself with both arms as he leans himself back to watch you. He huffs out a small laugh when he feels you clench, pleased to find that words still have a profound effect on you. 

Changbin expected you to start slow, but maybe expecting a desperate little thing like you in the middle of her heat to show restraint wasn’t his brightest moment- because you’re bouncing fast, and fuck, he knew rabbits had strong legs and were notoriously skilled at bouncing, but what the fuck? You’re riding him like your life depends on it, which from your perspective may very well be true- you’ve been so pent up and unsatisfied that truthfully you couldn’t act any differently than this even if you wanted to. All you can think about, all that drives you, is your need to cum on Changbin’s cock- nothing else matters. 

Despite the fact that Changbin is using his arms and hands for the explicit purpose of keeping himself upright to watch you, you all but demand he brings them to you. It’s a pitiful attempt really, trying your best to learn forward enough to grab his hands without losing your balance on his lap and falling straight onto his chest, but thankfully he realizes what you’re going for and offers them to you before you can fully fall against him. 

His back once again touches the cool grass, with you intertwing your fingers as soon as his hands come to your own. His hands are much bigger than your own, fingers thicker, and you have to completely spread out your own fingers to even get them between his, but he squeezes your hands once you succeed. You use the additional support of his hands in yours as leverage for your bouncing, his arms strong and firm enough to help keep you upright and steady as you slide up and down his length. 

You can hear his tail thumping against the ground, a display of excitement and pleasure that he’ll never be able to disguise. Your nails dig into his knuckles, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth as you try to contain the noises that leave you, not wanting to alert the entire forest that you’re fucking right now (as if yours and Changbin’s combined scent doesn’t already give that truth away.) 

But there’s still something missing- something that a desperate puppy and bunny really needs; and that is someone to keep them in line. That’s where Chan comes in, tsking at the scene in front of him as he steps closer, having evidently caught your scent and came straight to where you are now, sitting on Changbin’s dick in the middle of the forest without a single ounce of shame between the two of you. 

“What’s this? Having fun without me?” he asks with a frown that feigns disappointment, though the slight swish of his tail and subtle spark in his eyes relays that he doesn’t actually mind very much. If anything, it gives him a chance for even greater fun, opens up a world of opportunity to tease and demand whatever he wishes. And his sudden presence and voice doesn’t cause you to slow down in the slightest- rather, it excites you further, causing you to bounce with renewed eagerness as you turn your head in the direction you heard him, looking him squarely in the face even as you continue your motions atop Changbin.

“That’s not very nice, I thought you liked me,” Chan pouts as he squats down next to the two of you, though his obviously fake pout breaks into a smile when you whine and affirm you do like him and want to have fun with him too. “We tried, fuck- we tried to find you, I swear, but she- she just-” Changbin is doing his best to talk, though you’re making it extremely difficult for him to be coherent, not letting up your pace in the slightest; and truth be told he’s never been much of a multitasker. “She- she’s fucking- God, I can’t-”

There’s also a pang of jealousy in the pit of Changbin’s stomach over how obviously excited the addition of Chan made you, how his presence and voice caused you to bounce on his dick with renewed vigor; and really, he should probably be happy that you’re putting so much effort into riding his cock thanks to Chan, but he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hands harder, almost instinctively, a gesture that he doesn’t even fully comprehend as possessive. “Oh, look at what you’ve done to poor Binnie. He’s a mess because of you, slutty girl,” Chan coos and your stomach twists as you divert your gaze back to Changbin. 

He’s sweating, panting hard, his stomach rapidly clenching and unclenching- and you feel it, the throb and twitch that alerts you to how close he is. And you’re close too, you have been for ages. Days worth of terrible, unfulfilling orgasms make the pleasure of this moment positively euphoric- but you were doing your best to hold out for Changbin, knowing that once you came you wouldn’t have the strength to ride him anymore, and you wanted to be good and do what he asked of you to the best of your ability. 

And Chan can clearly see the signs on both of you; he’s shared with Changbin enough times to recognize his tells, and in your case, well.. it doesn’t take a genius to realize you’re about 3 seconds from gushing and creaming all over Changbin’s cock and lap. But you started the fun without him! And he isn’t sure you deserve to cum so easily after leaving him out- so just as your volume picks up, your pace finally faltering as your taut line is about to snap, Chan grabs your hips and forces you down, bringing you to a complete stop. 

You whine loudly, wiggling your hips as you vainly try to lift yourself up again, but it’s impossible- Chan is much, much stronger than you after all. Changbin, who was close himself, curses and whines nearly as loudly as you, his brows knitting together as he tries to calm himself down. “Hyung, what the fuck-” he complains, though he doesn’t dare make a move to make Chan stop holding you down- he knows better than that. You look at Chan, bottom lip quivering and eyes glassy with fresh tears as babbles of “why” and “please” and “need to cum” leave you. 

“But weren’t you a bad bunny? Having fun with just Changbin, weren’t even thinking of me at all..” Chan says with another false pout. He is nowhere near as jealous and unconsciously possessive as Changbin, as he knows very well he can have whatever he wants, but this dynamic is where he has the most fun- exuding control is the greatest pleasure he knows. Changbin’s denied orgasm is just collateral. “And poor Binnie, you dragged him down with you because you just couldn’t wait,” he continues, grabbing your face with one hand and making you look back at the wolf beneath you, “I think you should tell him you’re sorry. Tell him you’re sorry for being a slut who can’t wait and getting him into trouble with you.” 

You whine again, watching as Changbin swallows and bites his lip, clearly eager to hear the apology you’re about to grant him at Chan’s command. “I.. ‘m sorry, Binnie, ‘m really sorry,” you mumble, and Chan tsks again, very clearly unsatisfied with the meek apology. “C’mon little red, you can do better than that, can’t you? Try again, we’re waiting.” You glance at Chan and then back at Changbin, swallowing as both of them stare at you and wait; the ball is in your court, and you have no choice but to deliver. 

“I’m sorry f-for being a slut, and ‘m sorry for being a bad bunny, sorry for getting Binnie in trouble, ‘m really sorry, I promise ‘m so sorry,” you try again, to which Chan smirks, taking his hand away from your face to give you a pat on the head. “That’s better,” he says as he finally removes his other hand from your hip. You take that as all the permission you need to start moving again, wasting no time in lifting your hips and slamming them back down onto Changbin’s lap. 

Changbin’s surprised gasp transitions into a groan, his hands once again squeezing yours while also trying to be careful not to pierce your skin with his claws. Eventually, begrudgingly, he lets go of your hands to dig his claws into the earth instead, finding that better than risking cutting into your precious skin. Chan watches patiently, waits until you’re both close again before he brings you to another stop with his strong hands, frustrated whines leaving you both as you plant your feet firmly on the ground and try to fight against Chan’s natural strength.

“I didn’t tell you that you could move,” he explains as he watches tears fall from the corners of your eyes, “couldn’t even wait for my permission, and look at you now, in trouble again, dragging Binnie down with you again.” You pout and cry, babbling apologies to both wolves, shame ever a foreign concept in the face of desperation- all you know is you want to cum, but if Chan needs you to be good, to ask first and follow his rules, then you will; you’ll always be as good for him as you possibly can be. 

When Chan removes his hands from your hips this time, you ask for permission as he wants you to. “Can I move, please? Please, I’ll be good from now on, I promise, just need to cum so bad,” you beg and he smiles as he coos, once again giving you a sweet stroke to your head. “Of course, good bunnies can have whatever they want. Make Binnie cum too, he’s so good to you, he deserves it, doesn’t he?” Chan chuckles as you nod quickly, eagerly resuming the motions on Changbin’s cock as if Chan had never stopped you at all. “Tell him,” he says, moving his hand down your head, over your back and to your tail, tugging it ever so slightly, “he’ll get so excited. Go on, talk to him.” 

“B-Binnie, you’re so- so good to me, make me feel so good, want you to cum, d-deseve to cum- cum in me,” you stutter out between harsh breaths and Chan has to suppress the laugh in his throat when Changbin’s tail fucking whacks against the ground in an impossibly loud, excited thump. So predictable, he always is- can’t hide a damn thing he thinks or feels. Changbin is the one grabbing your hips this time, helping you along as he starts to fuck up into your from below. You squeak and nearly fall forward onto his chest, but somehow manage to keep your balance and stay mostly upright, your hands gripping desperately at his biceps.

And in all the times they have shared someone, Chan is met with a sight he doesn’t think he’s ever seen. Changbin’s eyes are rolling back as bites his lip and chases his high from below, using all of his strength to move you however he wants. Clearly, being denied orgasms did something profound to him- he’s almost feral, relentless in the way he fucks into you. When he feels the build up again, he tries to hold back, almost afraid that Chan will rip it all away from him at the last moment again- but then you’re squeezing him hard, he can feel more slick gush and coat his length as you cry out, and he loses it entirely, cumming in long, drawn out spurts, giving you all he has to give.

You’re entirely collapsed on Changbin’s chest now, seemingly spent from all the effort you exuded and the intensity of your orgasm, eyes closed as you try to collect your breath. Changbin is equally breathless, brain lagging as he processes the fact that he’s cum the hardest he thinks he ever has, and on top of that it was in the middle of the fucking woods with Chan controlling when you were both allowed to cum. Maybe he’s due for some self discovery after this..?

Changbin, whose senses are finally returning to him and recalls he was unable to kiss you at all once you really got going and was sorely missing it, lifts your face and pulls you into a kiss. One kiss turns into two, then to three, then to four, until you’re essentially making out, with Changbin effectively stealing away all the breath you’d just regained. Chan watches for a time, lets Changbin indulge in what is one of his favorite intimate acts, but he can’t let you two be the only ones having fun for much longer. 

It’s Chan’s turn now, and he’s been patient enough. He’s good at putting up a front, makes his control seem effortless, what with his boundless charisma and intimidating presence, but fuck, the minute he caught the scent of your heat in the air, he about lost it. Just as Changbin surely felt, he needs to fuck you before he risks going insane. The younger wolf whines when you’re pulled off of him, a mess left behind on his lap where you once were. What a selfish pup he is- maybe one of these days Chan needs to remind him what it means to share. 

“Go home, Bin. And tell everyone still there to get the fuck out, so I can bring her back home with me.” Changbin blinks for a moment as he processes, and then he’s scrambling to his feet, getting his clothes back on in a rush. Changbin wanted to bring you home too, but he knew he couldn’t- if he just walked in with you in his arms, it would’ve been chaos; the younger wolves with much less practice in self restraint would’ve lost their fucking minds- even Chan and Changbin themselves had barely been keeping it together, still heavily effected by your heat despite how experienced they were. 

“Uh, when I do, can I.. y’know..?” Changbin asks before he starts to leave and Chan rolls his eyes before he lets out a small laugh. “Yes, Bin, you can join us again.” Changbin smiles, tail swishing cutely before he runs off and once again you have to suppress a giggle at the surprisingly adorable display. You wonder if he’d take offense to the fact that you view him as a puppy; he just screams “I need constant affection and attention or I’ll die” and it’s oddly endearing. 

Chan doesn’t let your thoughts linger exclusively on Changbin for long however; he’s grabbing your face again, diverting your attention back to him, making you look straight up at him. He captures your lips in a kiss, one that is far more impassioned than you would’ve expected based on his cool exterior. He holds you tightly, pressing your body firmly against his own, leaving no space between you. You in turn wrap your arms around his neck, sighing into the kiss as you are met with more of the sweet relief you’ve desperately needed.

His hands travel over your body, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his fingers, refreshing the memory, letting it become engraved once more. When he pulls back, he is looking at you carefully, doing his best to continue to suppress his carnal need to have you long enough to ask you something that’s been mulling around in his mind, “Tell me honestly, little red. Did you want us to find you tonight, or was it an accident?” He needs to know if it was simply spur of the moment with Changbin, if anyone would’ve done if they’d approached you, or if it was them you specifically needed to get you through your heat. 

“You, I wanted you,” you answer easily, truthfully, a slight blush crawling over your face as you admit how you truly feel; your mind may be foggy from your heat, but you're not immune to the nerves that come with an honest confession, “I told Binnie too, that I.. I wanted you both.” Chan smiles at your answer, a smile that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pretty he is when he smiles at you. “Good. Then my next question before I keep you for the rest of the night- do you want to be ours?” 

“B-Be yours..?” you ask, blinking up at him as your mind goes over what that could mean. “Mhm, mine and Changbin’s. Our sweet, little bunny that we’d take good care of. Our mate, essentially.. Do you want that?” Your breath hitches, the blush on your face growing as the words swirl around in your head. Their mate. Chan’s. Changbin’s. Both of them.. Their mate. “A-Are you serious? I mean.. I’m a rabbit, and you’re.. not.” From what you've heard, wolves take having a mate very seriously.. and he wants that special someone to be you? And to share that special someone with someone else? Is that really okay?

“I’m completely serious. And you don’t have to be if you don’t want to, but I hope you know it’s not something I offer easily,” he says, stroking your cheek, offering you the softest smile you’ve ever seen him hold. “And you feel it, don’t you? The inexplicit desire, how nothing since having each other has felt complete, satisfying.. enough?” You swallow as you nod, knowing that much is true- ever since you met them, every night without them felt.. wrong somehow. Like you weren’t where you were supposed to be. And God, how unbearable your heats had become, going far past the usual discomfort into completely uncharted, agonizing territory. 

“I do, I really do,” you answer, unable to lie about such a thing even if you wanted to. And there’s still so much about your life you’d have to figure out, but you know you’d regret it if you said you didn’t want to be theirs, you’d live in agony if you didn’t have them. He smiles again before he kisses you, hands traveling down to your legs, over your thighs and hips, until he’s cupping your ass, lifting you up and bringing you closer.

You leak onto his lap, but he doesn’t mind, can’t even process it, really- his mind is full of you. Of your scent, of your touch on his skin, of his on yours. And just how you’d done with Changbin, you insatiably run your hands over whatever patch of his skin within your reach. And if his senses weren’t in overdrive from your scent, he’d admonish you for being so insatiable, tease you for being a slut and make your face burn red from filthy, whispered words.

But he has to admit the desperate, needy side of you he’s witness to is a treat, and it works at the rope that is his composure in record time, steadily tearing at it until all that keeps it together is a thin thread. He’s no better than Changbin, is he? Really, if this is how you’ve been from the start, it’s clear the younger wolf never had a chance; but Chan is the superior here, and he has to set an example- what good will it do if he can’t stay in control long enough to get you back to his den? 

He has something to prove- to himself, to Changbin, and to you; that he doesn’t break and give in so quickly and easily. So he quickly rises to his feet with you in his arms, carefully leaning to where your clothes were discarded and picking them up, covering you in your cape like it’s a blanket. “Just in case there’s some stragglers still at home,” he explains; when you’re officially his mate, no one will touch you, but until then, he’ll take every precaution necessary to protect you from other wolves that may want you- barring Changbin, naturally. 

It takes you no more than a few minutes to get to their den thanks to his speed, and just as before you closed your eyes and clung to him tightly as he wove through the trees to get there. Thankfully, it seemed Changbin did a good job at relaying that the leader wants everyone gone until morning, as the only sight you are met with inside is him sweetly and excitedly waving as Chan approaches with you in his arms. 

Just like the first time, Changbin trails close behind on the way to Chan’s room, locking the door for security when you’re all inside. You’re set down on the bed, with Chan putting your discarded clothing on his nearby armchair before he’s sitting next to you. Changbin also wastes no time getting his clothes off again, to which Chan stares at him incredulously until Changbin replies with a simple “what?”, causing Chan to scoff in disbelief and you to giggle. 

Changbin sits on your other side, his hands in his lap as he waits for whatever it is Chan is going to do next; and he may be jealous, but he won’t interfere with whatever his elder wants to do with you, even if it means all he gets to do for the remainder of the night is watch. Chan reaches out, pushing your hair behind your shoulders and exposing your neck, to which Changbin instinctively swallows. He resisted last time, only scraping your skin with his teeth, but he wanted to bite you so bad that night. 

It was a bit strange, considering he’d never had such an urge with previous partners; he liked them, of course, they were pretty, sexy, fun.. But he almost felt the natural instinct for a wolf to bite was either a myth or something he wasn’t meant to experience until he had you. And maybe that’s why he felt so jealous when Chan captured your attention; Changbin has always been a jealous person, but it never felt this.. real, almost? Serious, and not entirely playful and fun-aligned as it usually was. 

Changbin watches as Chan trails his fingers over your neck, the both of you instinctively holding your breath. He watches as Chan replaces his fingers with his lips, watches as he trails kisses over your skin, watches as his hands travel to your thighs and squeezes them. His jealousy mixes with excitement, softened cock beginning to harden once more, his fingers twitching and aching to touch you some more, but not acting on the desire; it’s Chan’s turn, he has to remind himself repeatedly.

Chan chuckles a bit when he pulls away and sees Changbin very clearly internally struggling; he’s so simple when it comes to things like this, incredibly easy to read. Once more, Chan grabs your face, but he does something new this time- he makes you tilt to the side, exposing the entirety of the right side of your neck to Changbin. He licks his lips and swallows before tearing his gaze away from your neck to look at Chan, unsure of why exactly he’s exposing your neck to him like this.

“Bite her. I know you want to,” Chan says much too casually for Changbin’s poor brain, his eyes widening in surprise as he practically gawks at his elder. “W-What? But- I can’t, she’s-” he stutters out, and you’re surprised to hear him so flustered; you guess the rumors are true- wolves take mating and bites very seriously. It’s not something he’ll do on a whim, even if he desperately wants to. “She wants you to. Wants both of us to,” Chan continues with a smile as he watches the gears turn in Changbins mind, “isn’t that right? Tell him, sweetheart.” 

“’s true, I wanna be yours. Both of yours,” you tell him and Changbin groans, though you can’t tell if it’s from disbelief, pleasure, or a mix of both. He takes one of your hands in his, squeezing once more as he leans down to your neck, inhaling your scent as he presses open mouthed kisses to your skin. “You’re sure..? This isn’t something you can take back,” Changbin asks between his hot kisses, and you affirm eagerly, that yes, you absolutely want this. 

“Together then?” he asks as he pulls away, looking at Chan with utmost seriousness. Chan hums his agreement before he’s tilting your head backwards, your entire neck exposed to both of them. And though this is something you want, you can’t help but be nervous as they take their places on either side of your neck, their breath tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. “Relax, sweetheart,” Chan whispers soothingly, his hand coming down to find the one Changbin isn’t holding. 

You let out a breath, doing your best to will you heart and nerves to calm; this will change your life forever, but it’s a change you accept wholeheartedly, and once the initial pain subsides, you know they’ll take the utmost care of you, they’ll make it all worth it. You feel their teeth start to prick your skin, their positions on your neck a true mirror of one another- the same placement on either side, marks that will show to the entire world that you have not just one mate, but two.

Chan’s fangs pierce your skin first, causing you to gasp and squeeze at their hands, crying out when Changbin’s own fangs follow shortly behind. It stings, but that initial pain dulls rather quickly, and you’re soon left with only the pleasurable feeling of belonging, of.. love? Or maybe that's not entirely accurate given how this all came to be, but whatever it is transcends anything you've ever known or experienced in your life thus far. It’s unique, special, new- a fitting description for your newfound relationship, and all the emotions it conjures within you.

Changbin is the first to kiss you when they seperate from your neck- and it's to be expected, he just can't help himself. But possessive though he can be, intentional or otherwise, he pulls away rather quickly, giving Chan his opportunity to kiss you too- because it’s not just him you belong to, and he wants to make it clear that even when he’s clingy, or jealous, or pouty, he’ll never do a single thing to jeopardize what the three of you have together. He simply hugs you as Chan kisses you, his lips ghosting over the mark he left behind, soothing a sting that no longer exists.

You wondered, when you were back at home in your cottage in the clearing, if it was okay to miss them. Was it foolish, did it even make sense to want to see them again? But you feel you’ve found your answer- you were meant to miss them, were supposed to feel a tug in their direction, were supposed to find them irresistible in every aspect, to desire them with all that you are. They are meant for you, and you for them, and maybe everything up to this point happened the exact way it was supposed to; and now you were truly where you belong.

Though Changbin should keep his hands and lips to himself given that it’s Chan’s turn to have his fun with you, he really can’t help himself. You’re sure Chan notices, as he notices everything when it comes to the both of you, but he doesn’t scold, tease, or pull you away. As fun as it would be to make you both whine and pout, this is a moment that will never be replicated- to bite someone like this is an act that you hopefully only do once in your lifetime. For the first night of belonging to each other at least, he’ll loosen the reins of his control just a bit for Changbin’s sake.

Chan guides you, and in turn Changbin, to lay back. Changbin's back hits the wall, while yours rests against his chest, where he cups and grabs your breasts from behind, squeezing and playing with them to his heart’s content while Chan continues to kiss you. His tongue slides in your mouth when Changbin’s rolling and pinches of your nipples causes your mouth to open with a moan, Chan’s own hand traveling between your legs, his fingers becoming quickly coated in your slick. 

Your body jolts when he rubs your clit, instinctively squirming and avoiding his direct touch- because even though it’s the first time either of them are touching it tonight, you’ve been abusing it all week whilst chasing your (unsuccessful) orgasms. It’s tender, sensitive- and you say so, a tremble in your voice as you try to make Chan understand that the feeling is just too much right now. “It’s too much?” he questions, and you’d think his tone was one of genuine concern were it not for his smirk giving away that he doesn’t very much care if the feeling is overwhelming you, “but you’re making such pretty sounds for us. And I thought you needed to cum? Isn’t that what you told me?” 

“Y-Yes, but-” you start but Chan quickly shushes you, another roll of his fingers making your eyes roll back as you continue to squirm. Your hands instinctively go to his wrists, simply holding them as you know you’d never actually be able to push him away. “But what? I’m giving you what you want, silly girl,” he says with a smile that you’d view as sweet if you didn’t know any better, “you should be thanking me. Go on, tell me ‘thank you’, nice and sweet, ‘kay?”

Oh, he’s so mean- and Changbin is no better, because he feels it fair to remind you that apparent cuteness and loss of composure aside, he’s just as much a menace as his elder. “Yeah, yeah, do it, pretty. We wanna hear it,” he says, close enough to your ear that it makes you shiver and squirm some more, whining in equal parts embarrassment and pleasure. Because even if it is overwhelming, it does still feel good- so good, you can’t help but cry.

“Th-Thank you, thank you,” you say between moans and gasping breaths, your nails digging into Changbin’s thighs now that you’ve released Chan’s wrists from your grasp. “Hmm, are you sure that’s all you wanna say? I think Channie-hyung expects more from you,” Changbin says with a grin you can’t see but can certainly hear. He’s right, of course, but you have no idea how you’re supposed to string together a coherent sentence with the way they’re coordinating their touches to your body and talking to you. 

But you have no choice but to do your best, because the alternative is disappointing them, and you would never. “Thank you- thank you for making me feel s-so good, thank you Channie, Binnie, th-thank you.” Choppy and hardly coherent through your whimpery moans your words may be, they seem satisfactory enough; Chan hums approvingly, and you can feel Changbin’s cock twitch against your back.

“That’s my good girl,” he smiles, increasing the speed of his fingers before he corrects himself, “our good girl.” You squeeze your eyes shut, legs twitching, entire body trembling, though you no longer instinctively squirm away from his fingers- your body has finally accepted it, you suppose. Apart from the tremble and shake in your legs, your body is otherwise limp, accepting of every bit of stimulation they bring you.

You’re close, they both know, but given the circumstances, Chan decides to be kind this time- he can make you beg and cry some more later, for now he should give his good bunny what she needs. “Gonna cum, aren’t you, pretty bunny? Go ahead and let go, let us hear it,” Chan says, doing his best to apply more pressure with the pads of his fingers, though how sloppy you are from slick doesn’t make the task entirely effortless- not that he minds, of course; he likes the mess you’ve made between your legs. 

You cry as you nod, head falling back against Changbin’s shoulder when his tugs and pinches to your nipples become harsher. You try to warn them before it happens, but you can’t- it hits you so hard that you can’t even utter any further noise, your mouth hanging open in silent cries as your eyes roll back and body tenses and untenses rapidly, gushing and making a further mess of Chan’s fingers and the mattress beneath you. 

They both whisper praises in your ears, sweet encouragements and dirty words that further drag out the euphoria you feel. You’re not sure how much time has passed before you open your eyes again, feeling Changbin’s hands rubbing your hips and thighs while Chan strokes your cheeks, smiling sweetly at you, actually sweetly, as your senses return to you. “There’s our girl,” he says after giving you a quick peck on the lips, “did such a good job, sweetheart.” 

He strokes your head as Changbin presses sweet kisses to your neck and shoulders, moving his hands from your thighs to wrap his arms around you in a soft hug. “Channie, fuck me now?” you ask, because as breathless and nearing exhaustion as you are, you’re still eager to feel him inside you, and you won't be truly satisfied until you get another load of cum inside you- his specifically. His smile turns to a grin, his hands coming down to your hips, prepared to move you into whatever position he desires, “Course sweetheart, nights not over until I’m done with you.” 

He flips you around effortlessly, Changbin catching you before you fall completely against him. He holds you upright while Chan adjusts the position of your hips, aligning his cock with your hole once he has you how he wants you. Changbin kisses you as Chan slides his way inside your heat slowly, swallowing every little noise that escapes you. And really, you’re beyond wet and prepped enough for him to go fast if he wants to, but he doesn’t- and not entirely because he wants to tease you (though it does serve that purpose), but because he’s been so on edge this entire time that he’ll cum in record time if he doesn’t, and he’ll die before he lets Changbin last longer than him. 

Changbin, who is happy to have your attention again, has his tail thumping excitedly against the mattress. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support as your tongues play together, gasping into his mouth when Chan is finally fully sheathed inside you, his hands digging into your hips whilst still trying to be cautious of his claws and their ability to pierce your delicate skin (though you don’t think you’d particularly mind if they did.) Changbin brings a hand to one of your ears, stroking the soft fluff and causing you to whimper as you clench around Chan’s cock, earning you a grunt from behind, a clear sign that he felt it. 

It’s not meant to be a challenge against Chan’s ability to hold out, but he takes it as one- if anyone is going to break and cum fast, it won’t be him. His hand comes around to your front, grabbing your neck with just enough strength to pull you back towards him. You gasp and whimper, turning your head as much as you can to look at Chan while he holds your neck. “Make our Binnie cum again while I fuck you, and then I’ll let you cum again too. Understand, bunny?”

You nod quickly as Changbin whines and his cock twitches. Our Binnie- he likes the sound of it more than he’d expect. Chan whispers a simple ‘good girl’ in your ear before he lets you go, letting you fall back into Changbin. Your head lands on his chest, and he intends to lift you up to support you and shift himself into a position that’ll benefit the both of you, but it doesn’t seem you need it- your hands are instantly on his cock, your tiny hands wrapping around and stroking as much as they are able.

He groans and grabs your face, lifting it up enough so that he can lean down to kiss you. Your pace falters when Chan finally starts to roll and thrust his hips, but you do your best to keep steady, determined to perform well and be allowed to cum again. You’re gasping, whimpering, crying as Chan’s pace turns to one you can only describe as purely animalistic- and fair, you admit, given how much self restraint and composure he had to hold until now. The fact that he even went this long before losing it is herculean feat. 

Despite that, he is still firm on the idea that he absolutely will not cum before either of you do, so he reaches around and grabs one of your hands, taking it away from Changbin’s cock and bringing it up instead to one of his twitching ears. “Wanna see our Binnie really lose it? Rub his ear, he’ll go crazy.” “Hyung-” he opens his mouth to protest, face starting to flush and seemingly embarrassed that his weak spot is being called out. 

The complaint dies in his throat however when your fingers softly rub over his ear, a gaspy whine coming out instead as his hips jolt up into the other hand still on his cock. “Fuck, shit-” he weakly groans while Chan smirks in victory- though the smirk doesn’t last very long, as he truthfully isn’t fairing much better than Changbin in regards to how good you’re making him feel. Maybe in the end, his plan backfired- because each noise that Changbin emits causes you to clench harder, but he still has other ideas in mind to make the two of you cum first.

Chan’s fingers find your clit again, making your body jolt and your hands grip at Changbin harder- on both his poor, sensitive cock and equally sensitive ear. He curses again, eyes rolling back for the second time, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as his hips once again unconsciously thrusts upward. It reaches a point where he’s essentially doing all the work, your fist almost entirely still while Changbin fucks your hand. 

His hands dig into the sheets, almost tearing them as he clenches at the fabric between his fingers. “O-Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum- harder, touch me harder, please-” Butterflies explode in your stomach, having never expected to hear Changbin beg the way you are usually made to. You do as he asks, you’d never dream otherwise; your fingers grip him harder, squeezing his cock and rubbing harsh circles on the soft ear in your hand. 

The thump of his tail is erratic, his breaths harsh as his head falls back, cum shooting on your hand and his stomach. When he opens his eyes and lifts his head, he’s met with the sight of you licking his cum off your hand before your scooping up the mess he made on his stomach with your fingers, sticking them in your mouth and then opening your to show him it’s all gone when you’re done, twisting your neck after to show Chan too. 

“F-Fuck,” Chan stutters a groan, pulling out long enough to flip you back around, your back hitting the mattress as Changbin moves to the side to watch. “Such a good girl, cleaning him up without having to be asked, should- fuck, should reward you, shouldn’t I?” But he already promised you could cum if Changbin did, so what’s the next best reward he could give you? “What do you want? Tell me, bunny, and I’ll give it to you,” he decides to simply ask as he slides back into your wet warmth, resuming the harsh pace he’d set before you flipped back around. 

“K-Kiss? Can we kiss?” you ask and he chuckles, stroking your cheek as he brings his face close to yours, close enough that your noses are touching and you can feel his breath against you. “That’s it? That’s all you want?” he asks, unable to suppress the smile when you quickly nod, “Bin’s gonna get jealous, y’know. You’ll have to make it up to him after.” But before you can reply, he’s kissing you, tongue shoving it’s way in your mouth.

Chan’s pace is fast and not entirely accurate, but God, he’s trying- and you perfectly understand, because even with the cool exterior he exudes, you can tell he’s barely been holding it together. He’s utterly gorgeous like this too, sweat dripping and jaw clenched, brows scrunched and veins popping from exertion, pretty lips glossy from your kisses just prior. His fingers on your clit are replaced by Changbin’s, while Chan’s hands grab your legs and keeps them held open, his cock going as deep as it can go. 

“So perfect, perfect bunny for us,” Chan grunts as his head falls to your neck, lips ghosting over the mark he made with fangs. Changbin brings his other hand to one of your ears, rubbing the base in the same way you rubbed his, while his fingers on your clit rub in quickly practiced circles. “Yours, ‘m yours and Binnie’s, bunny just for you,” you affirm, body shuddering when Chan groans in response.

He’s close, so fucking close, but you have to cum first- so he closes his eyes and tries to focus on hitting the spot that makes you see stars, working to stave off his release as long as he can possibly can. And he’s successful, Thank God- between his perfect thrusts and Changbin’s fingers, you’re cumming again in no time at all, the wet spot beneath you growing as you drench Chan in your release. 

He grunts, thrusts reverting back to their sloppier rhythm as he chases his high, his grip on your thighs sure to leave bruises behind. A string of curses leave him as he finally cums, filling you to the point it leaks even as he’s still fully pressed inside. Your eyes are closed, heavy with exhaustion, but you hear them talk to each other as they wipe your sweat away and clean you up between your thighs.

One of them picks you up, Chan you think, while the one you assume to be Changbin changes the sheets for him, absolutely filthy after the night you just shared. Tired and not entirely conscious as you are, you still snuggle into the chest of the one holding you, and it’s confirmed it’s Chan when you hear him chuckle and whisper something about you being “sweet and cute.” You tiredly whine when you’re put back down, eyes still closed but missing the warmth you were enveloped in, and hear them once again chuckle before you feel them on both sides, pressed against them in the middle. 

With a struggle, you blink awake, body heavy and eyes still impossibly tired, the darkness surrounding you making it near impossible to tell what time it is. It's clear you're still in their den, and wolves dens are always dark given their nocturnal nature. You're laying on your back, you realize, Changbin’s arm slung over your stomach while Chan, who is also apparently awake, is stroking your head as he looks at you. “You didn’t sleep?” you ask quietly and he shakes his head, whispering his reply back to you. “It’s still the middle of the night, sweetheart. We never sleep at night- but well, after what you did to Changbin, he was out as soon as he got comfortable next to you. Couldn’t stay awake even if he wanted to.” 

You quietly giggle, turning your head to catch a peek at him. He looks cute, peaceful- you give him a soft peck on his cheek before you turn your attention back to the awake Chan. “He’d lose it if he was awake during that, y’know. He loves cute shit like that,” he says and you smile- you can tell, it’s obvious; Changbin is a bit of an open book, you think. “What about you?” you ask and he scoffs a little, turning his gaze away as a slight smile peeks out on his lips. “Course. I just don’t make it as obvious as that idiot. Seriously, we have a reputation to maintain.” 

You peck his cheek, and he scoffs again, trying to hide the growing smile and retain the cool image. “Don’t start- you’re gonna make me as bad as him.” “Is it going to be morning soon..?” you ask as you lower your head back to the pillows. “It will be in a couple hours,” he replies, turning back to you with a more serious expression, “you need to go back home, yeah? Can’t stay here?”

You frown as you nod, a strange feeling of loneliness filling your gut at the idea of leaving them behind to go back to your cottage. “Grandmother needs me..” you tell him and he hums in understanding, careful not to expose the ache in his chest that you’ll be parting soon- whether that’s courtesy of the mating bite or if it’s feelings he’d have regardless he can’t entirely tell. “We’ll figure something out. Just get some more rest for now, okay? I’ll be right here.” You nod and close your eyes, relaxing further when you feel him start to stroke your head again. When you shift slightly for comfort, Changbin instinctively holds you tighter; even in his sleep he has to make sure you’re close.

There’s a lot you’ll have to confront come morning, but you decide to follow Chan’s words and leave it until then. You lay one of your hands atop the one Changbin has pressed on your stomach, and use your other to touch Chan, humming happily when he brings his own over to hold it. For now, you’ll fall back to sleep, you’ll indulge in the safe comfort you feel while sandwiched between their bodies, holding their hands, secure in the knowledge that even though your life will be drastically different from now, it’s what will make you happiest. A bunny and her two bad wolves, who aren’t actually as bad as they seem- this is where you belong.

[alleiwentcrazy]

The point is, Steve can’t hear.

A person can get hit in the head only so many times before it takes effect and does permanent damage. Steve’s incessant claims that being in the front row when the fight breaks down does nothing to him, that he’s safe and alright as long as everyone else is, mean very little in the face of cold, evident facts.

His hearing isn’t intact. It takes him a while to adjust to this reality, but with the help of his friends, he eventually does. Thanks to Nancy’s fierce bullying of the government guys who come to Hawkins to assess the situation and cook up some half-assed excuse for everything that’s happened, Steve now has a small army of well-paid doctors that really seem to be eager to help. He also gets state-of-the-art hearing aids that, well—they work, but Steve’s range of possibilities is still quite narrow. Let a few people into the room, let them speak simultaneously and all he can hear is static, rustles and crackling.

But he’s pliant. He listens when Robin tells him they have to get in the car and hit the road to get to his appointment on time. He lets her help with inserting the aids properly on the days he’s just too impatient and too bugged about how they feel and look to even care if they help him hear. He’s not dismissing her enthusiasm when she starts learning sign language before he even gets a chance to discuss it as his option.

He’s doing a lot of things for her, even if they’re supposed to be important to him first. To be honest, these days it’s mostly doing things for Robin that keeps him going. He would have gone completely numb ages ago if it weren’t for her and her unique ways of picking up the severed pieces whenever he crumbles.

He’s also doing it for Dustin. If Robin is his twin sister, Dustin is the little brother he’s never had. And Dustin… It’s just been too rough on him. It’s been rough on everyone; how could it not be if the only thing they seem to be able to do is wait? Wait for the lab guys to figure out a way to end this. Wait for the panic to cease. Wait for Max to wake up.

Wait for the grief to pass.

They wait and wait, but it never stops—on the contrary, it brings fresh, equally unwanted feelings. They’re always there, lurking behind the corner like a kitten that wants to launch itself at an unsuspecting owner – only with them, there won’t be any playtime involved. Steve recognizes this feeling. It’s the same feeling he’d had in that Winnebago when he was dropping off Max, Lucas and Erica at Creel’s doorstep. An awful anticipation of doom waiting to happen.

He doesn’t like it. He’d like to find a way to do something about it, but he can’t seem to get to the core of it.

Maybe that’s why he thinks he’s hearing things when he really can’t be hearing them.

At first, Steve writes it off as him being paranoid. It happens only when he’s home by himself, so it’s the only logical explanation – he takes off his aids, he gets too attentive about his surroundings, right? He thinks he hears something, but it’s only his tired mind playing tricks on him.

Especially because what he hears are mostly usual, non threatening things. The sound of water running in the bathroom (he goes inside, everything is dry and quiet). The sound of kitchen drawers being opened (he goes to the kitchen, the cabinets are exactly the way he left them). The sound of cutlery being dropped on the floor (but he hasn’t even taken anything out in the first place).

He even gets used to it. Things happen, his brain is weird. It’s confusing, sure, but hasn’t he seen worse things? He definitely has.

But it doesn’t keep him away from sleeping with his bat perched on the side of the bed. If he sleeps at all, if a sudden sound of breaking glass doesn’t keep him awake until his morning shift with Robin, when he can finally leave this goddamn house and take his mind off of things.

Steve tries to ignore it. He really tries, but the point is—Steve can’t hear things like running water in the bathroom when his aids are off. Hell, he only makes it out if he focuses on it when they’re in, so why the heck can he hear it so well? Why are the sounds multiplying?

It goes on for weeks. He avoids the topic for as long as possible, trying to shoo away the obvious similarities between his house and the house that made him hate spiders and cringe at fireplaces not too long ago.

It gets a little too real on just some random Tuesday, when his kitchen positively explodes with sounds the second he gets the hearing aids off. Cabinet doors slam left and right, mugs fall to the floor and shatter, forks and spoons seem to be getting thrown around like ragdolls—but Steve sees nothing. He hears it, he hears it so loudly it hurts, the cacophony of noises he’s never even heard before, but his eyes register no proof of it. He curls down on the floor, expecting sharp glass pieces to cut his skin, but nothing happens. Nothing’s here.

He still covers his head, tucked away in the furthest corner of the kitchen, waiting for it to just stop, to leave him alone—

Steve doesn’t know how long it takes, but when it’s finally done, his knees are shaky and his breathing is ragged. He snatches his aids and takes off, straight to Robin’s house. He doesn’t even lock the door, a thing his parents would kill him for if they knew.

It’s the first time he explains everything to her. It would be hard not to, because she sees right through him. His panicked, restless eyes are enough indication of things not being right.

“Maybe, uh—I think I’ve read something about hearing loss and auditory hallucinations? That they happen, sometimes, especially if the loss of hearing is sudden?” she says, already flipping through her notebook where she keeps all Steve-related stuff and pacing around the room with enough force to make a hole in the carpet.

Steve’s not convinced. “It seems pretty real to me,” he mumbles and frowns. “But that’s the point of it, right?”

Robin shrugs. He notices that she has a small set of wrinkles around her eyes. Steve looks at them for a second in total disbelief. They already have some worry wrinkles, and they’re not even well into their twenties.

He’s gonna lose all his precious hair in a span of months if this doesn’t stop.

*

They decide to bring it up during his next appointment, still hoping that it’ll maybe go away on its own. Robin tries to make him get a consult straight away (what if it is rabies after all, Steve, like a really really really weird, belated presentation of rabies?), but he waves it off. The option of hallucinations doesn’t soothe his nerves, but as long as it’s not a chiming clock, he can avoid confronting it for a while longer.

It doesn’t go away, though. Steve can’t quite pinpoint it, but it almost feels like—well, it obviously doesn’t feel like it’s real enough to be real. But there’s something that accompanies the sounds, the lack of evidence, the missing of this ominous feeling that Creel’s house inflicted on him.

The sounds—it feels like they bear a presence. Steve’s still scared and gets spooked by them whenever they happen, but he’s no longer truly afraid of them.

Some of them are even comforting. The sound of his pillow being fluffed up before he gets to bed, the sound of pen scratching on paper whenever he leaves his journal open on the desk, the whooshing sound of a lighter being opened and closed – they all make this eerie place his parents have left him a little less empty.

He rarely lets himself think about it that way. He may be a little kooky, but admitting that he’s lonely enough to find hallucinations comforting would be way too much to handle at the moment.

So Steve can’t hear, but he learns to accept the fact that, apparently, sometimes he can. He doesn’t know how it works—to be quite honest he doesn’t know a lot about experiencing hearing loss at all, despite now being hard of hearing himself—but it just makes its place in his life.

He thinks about it a lot, but he tries not to overthink it too hard. It just happens. Things fall to the floor in his house, curtains get torn, the fridge gets opened frequently. He just can’t see it. His mind hears it, but his eyes don’t get the memo. He lives for longer than a week. It’s probably a good sign; nothing’s going to make his bones snap in two now, probably. Hopefully.

Things change suddenly.

Steve tries to spend as much time with Dustin as possible. Between work, his appointments and Robin, Dustin, Max and the kids are his top priority. He doesn’t think he would be able to function if he let himself take a breath and step down from his piled up responsibilities that he chose to take on himself. They keep him together. They keep him going.

Besides, Mrs. Henderson gets really worried. Sometimes it’s just better for Dustin to stay with Steve, and Steve is more than happy to be with him, even though it seems that Dustin doesn’t really like his cold house either.

It’s one of Dustin’s quiet days. He gets them, sometimes—Steve knows that trying to get him to talk on one of those days is a lost cause, and his ears are killing him. He was in such a hurry this morning he didn’t take the time to put the aids in properly. Work was overflowing with people, too, so now his temples are throbbing from trying to pick up the chatter from the static. Seriously, how is it possible that people still spend so much time watching movies in the face of almost-apocalypse, Steve doesn’t know.

“Would you mind if I took my aids off for a while?”

“Go ahead,” Dustin mumbles, bending over his new book.

Something flips inside Steve’s chest. He knows it’s not supposed to be like that, it’s unlike Dustin to be so… not himself. But what can Steve do? He can’t make him talk. He can just wait, nothing else.

He gets up to leave his aids on the counter and pour himself some coffee. He should probably start making dinner soon, but he decides to take a few peaceful sips first.

It’s weird. To sit with Dustin Henderson, of all people, without a single word. Steve glances at him every once and again, but Dustin either ignores him or genuinely forgets that he’s there.

Steve’s so deep in his thoughts about Dustin, he doesn’t even look to the side when a sudden sound of kitchen chair toppling over cuts through the silence. His eyes are trained on the kid.

Who flinches. And frowns. Steve can swear that he fights the urge to look around.

Each and every chair Steve keeps in the kitchen is standing where he placed them in the morning after breakfast. Nothing real has happened. But Steve heard it. And, apparently, Dustin did too.

Steve’s brain is working overtime for the rest of the evening, and he desperately tries not to show any of it. He’s jumping into conclusions. It was an accident; dumb luck. It’s nothing. He’s working himself up, nonsensically.

But it doesn’t feel like it’s nothing. It was only one chair, one sound, but the feeling that accompanied it was strong. Too strong to be nothing.

He waits to drop Dustin off at home like he’s on pins and needles, fumbling with his fingers and keys and pacing around. Maybe it’s better that it’s one of Dustin’s quiet days, he mostly gets away with it, getting only a few side glances.

When gets back home, it’s late, but he’s buzzing with anticipation nonetheless. He can finally do something. He discards his aids haphazardly, not nearly as carefully as he should, and starts running around the house. The house his parents built is huge—but the kitchen turns out to be quite small when he’s finally done with arraying at least a dozen lamps there. He has to raid three of his father's garages to get enough extension cords.

When he turns them on all at once, he has to take a step back and shut his eyes, because it’s too much light.

Just the right thing he needs.

His heart is beating so fast he can almost feel it ramming against his ribs. That’s about how far he’d thought this plan through.

“Come on,” he says and clears his throat, trying to gauge how his voice may really sound now. He repeats himself, hoping that it’s louder this time.

Nothing happens for a while, but he knows he’s close. The feeling is here. The presence that hasn’t left him in months. It’s here.

Steve walks around the kitchen, moves the lamps a little, shakes some of them. His hands are clammy and it feels like he’s chewed through his cheek at this point, but he can wait. He’s waited for a long time. He can wait a while longer.

When the microwave beeps, he stops breathing for a second.

Until it beeps again. And again.

“Oh god,” he breathes. He doesn’t know if he speaks clearly or not, he doesn’t even care. “Come on, show me that it’s you. Come on, come on—”

The lamp furthest to the left starts blinking, slowly at first. Then the one next to it, then another one, and another one, like someone’s walking around and making them flicker one by one.

They’re blinking so much one of the bulbs goes out. Steve doesn’t hear it hiss, so he knows it went out here, now. He knows it’s real.

“Oh god,” his hand goes to his mouth. His eyes are weirdly itchy. “Oh god, is it really you, Eddie?”

The lamp directly in front of Steve goes wild. When he reaches out, it’s almost like he can touch the presence that’s here with him.

And it’s Eddie. Eddie’s here with him.

[courtingchaos]

Teeth

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.

Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.

A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.

“Are they all human teeth?”

“Mhm.”

“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”

“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”

He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.

“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.

“One could only hope.” You whisper.

“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.

When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.

“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.

“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.

“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.

“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”

In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.

“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”

“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”

“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”

“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.

“Can I ask why teeth?”

“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”

“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.

“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.

“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.

“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”

“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.

“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.

“$600 for one tooth?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.

Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.

“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.

“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”

“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.

“Come on, ladykiller.”

In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.

“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”

“That’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.

“Please don’t bite down.”

“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.

“Not like this, no.”

He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”

He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”

“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.

“You don’t already know which one it is?”

You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.

“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.

“You’re gonna keep it right?”

“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.

A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”

“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”

You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.

“Thanks for not laughing at me.”

“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”

“Yeah that was quite a bit.”

“Still hot.”

He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.

“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.

“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.

“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.

For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.

“Craig had the toughest job-“

“I thought he was Neville?”

“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”

“In what country?”

“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.

Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.

“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.

“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”

“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.

“Always gotta show off.”

“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”

Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.

“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.

“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.

The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.

“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”

He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.

Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.

When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.

“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.

“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.

“Is this your tooth?”

“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”

“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.

“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”

“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”

“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.

“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”

He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.

Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.

“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.

“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.

“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”

“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”

“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.

“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”

“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”

“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.

“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.

“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.

“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”

“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.

“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.

“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”

“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.

“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”

He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.

He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.

“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”

“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”

His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”

His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.

But that’s not how you treat a goddess.

He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.

Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”

Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.

“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.

“Of c-course I do.”

“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.

He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.

It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.

“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.

“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.

“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”

“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”

(Sacrifice for the read more)

[girlgenius1111]

i'll be whatever you need

part 2 of birthdays are supposed to have surprises

alexia x reader angst / fluff no warnings :)

Alexia didn't do anything halfway. Not football, not outfits, and apparently, not training puppies. The woman made schedules for when they were supposed to eat, play, go out, and when you both were supposed to train them. You were less strict about them then your girlfriend would have wanted, sometimes slacking off on the schedule she had imposed.

It felt ridiculous, making them sit, and stay, and roll over, and bark. They did all those things already, when they wanted to! Alexia was adamant, though, that they be well behaved dogs. And, in fairness, you were the reason the two of you had ended up with 2 puppies at one time, so you went along with it.

You weren't bothered by it at first; really, you thought it was cute, how committed Alexia was. And then, it seemed like all she did was go to training and play with the puppies. They were a lot of work, and, as Alexia was on an easier schedule due to her knee injury, she was home with them more. They became attached to her, more attached to her than they were to you. You weren't jealous of your dogs, that would be absurd. You just wished Alexia would pay a bit more attention to you.

-----

It was around week 4 that you became rather fed up. Alexia, for all her insistence on rules with the puppies, was weak when it came to not letting them on the bed.

Finley's cries woke you up, as was customary, his tiny little voice carrying from his crate in the living room, all the way back to the bedroom. He was fine, just a bit lonely. It was still early, and you and Alexia had a rare morning to sleep in, with training scheduled for later afternoon. You reached out for Alexia's shirt, grabbing on and pulling when she tried to get up to go get him.

"No, stay," you said sleepily.

"I will be right back amor, I am just going to get Fin," she whispered, kissing your forehead before pulling away from your grasp. Of course, she didn't just go get Finley, she got Fernando too, entering the room with two hyper puppies in her arms, dumping them unceremoniously on the bed by your face. They both began frantically licking at your face, and you pulled the covers over your head, grumbling loud enough for your girlfriend to hear.

"Hey, they are saying good morning," Alexia said, removing the covers from your head. "Say good morning." She demanded.

"Good morning." You sighed, letting your eyes fall shut again. A soft nip at your nose had you sitting straight up in bed, eyebrows furrowed as you glared down at Fin's little face looking up at you innocently. Alexia was biting back a laugh, holding Fernando in her lap on the other side of the bed.

"Ow, Finley," you scolded, moving to put him on the floor. Alexia's hand stopped you, pulling Fin into her lap as well.

"He is just a baby, amor, be nice."

You gave her an exasperated look, one that didn't seem like you were joking, before rolling over and burying yourself under the covers once again. Alexia stared at your back for a minute, confused. She wasn't sure why you seemed to be so annoyed with her.

"Do you want to come with me on our walk?" She asked, putting the dogs on the floor, and pressing up against your back, leaving a gentle kiss on your ear.

"What time is it?" You asked.

"Already 9:30. I thought we could go to the dog park, and take the puppies to see my mom after."

You went rigid against Alexia. You were supposed to get breakfast at your favorite cafe that morning, at 9. Alexia had said she would wake you up, and you'd leave the puppies to enjoy a morning to yourselves. Evidently, she'd forgotten. It shouldn't have bothered you as much as it did.

"Amor?" Alexia asked, only growing more confused when you shifted away from her.

"No. I'm tired, I'll stay here."

"You do not want to come at all?" Alexia asked, sounding slightly hurt. You couldn't bring yourself to care, not when her priority was clearly the puppies.

"No." You responded harshly, squeezing your eyes shut. Alexia was still for a moment, before she got up from the bed without another word, and began to get dressed.

-----

The dog park was not very fun without you. It was hard to watch both puppies, and Alexia decided to cut the trip short, especially when her mom called and asked to reschedule her visit because she had come down with a cold. She was getting increasingly worried about your behavior the longer she was away from you She wasn't quite sure what your problem was, but she was hoping that your grumpiness would have resolved by the time she got home.

You were out of bed, dressed and messing around in the kitchen when she got home. You were still acting kind of... off. You greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek, instead of on her lips. You looked paler than normal , and eventually ended up lounging on the couch while she trained with the dogs. She was working on getting them to follow simple commands, like sitting and staying. They were not very good listeners. She was completely wrapped up in the puppies, while you watched on sullenly.

"Fin, venga. Siéntate." Fin stared at her for a moment before clumsily sitting down. "Buen chico," Alexia cooed, giving him a treat.

You cracked a small smile, before letting out a quiet sigh. You didn't feel right today; you weren't sure why, maybe because you were still kind of upset with Alexia, who remained oblivious. Either way, you just wanted to lay in your girlfriend's arms.

"Ale?" You called.

"Hmm?" She responded distractedly, not looking over at you.

"Will you come lay with me?" You asked.

"Not right now, amor, once I am done with the puppies' training I will." Alexia told you. You felt ridiculously rejected, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

"Okay." You said, getting off the couch and hurrying back into the bedroom. Your voice was shaky, and Alexia turned around just in time to see the door shut behind you. She was confused, not quite sure why you were seemingly upset. She stood, abandoning the dogs completely to follow you down the hall.

"Amor? What's happened?" Alexia said, peeking in through the door to see you curled up on the bed, head tucked into your pillow, hiding your face. You didn't respond, simply burrowing further into the bed. Alexia walked around to her side, climbing over to where your back was turned to her.

"Amor, please," she said. Still, there was no response from you. Alexia pulled on your shoulder, ignoring your resistance, out from under the throw blanket and onto your side, facing her. She noticed dried tear tracks on your cheeks.

"¿Por qué estás llorando?" She said urgently, wiping at your face with her thumb as if the tears disappearing would make your sadness go away too.

You pushed her hands away, blinking away a wave of fresh tears at the distraught look on your girlfriend's face. If it wasn't bad enough that you were crying, for an absurd reason, but now you were going to have to explain it to Alexia.

"I'm fine." You replied, but Alexia shook her head, pressing the lightest of kisses on your nose.

"What is it?" She asked again, holding your face in between her hands.

"It's stupid." You mumbled.

"If it is making you upset, it is not stupid. Tell me, please."

"You forgot about breakfast." You told her quietly, avoiding her gaze, even as you saw understanding flash across her face. You still felt so stupid, being upset over something so small. It just didn't feel small. It felt like Alexia was using any excuse she could to avoid you.

"No, amor, I am so sorry." Alexia whispered, pulling you into an almost suffocating embrace. "I am so, so sorry."

"It's fine." You mumbled into her.

"No, it is not fine. You were so excited about it. I was busy with the puppies, and I completely forgot." The blonde explained.

"You're busy with them a lot, recently." You said softly, embarrassment flushing across your face as Alexia pulled away to look intently at you.

Alexia is silent for a moment, thinking about the past few weeks. She hadn't realized how she'd put you to the side, spending most of her time training, or focused on the dogs.

You mistook her silence for annoyance. "It's okay, Alexia, please don't worry about it."

"I have not been spending much time with you recently, have I? Between getting back on the pitch, and the dogs..." Alexia trailed off, looking rather horrified at herself.

"It wasn't- it wasn't on purpose then?"

Alexia's eyes flew to yours, her jaw dropping at what you'd said. You knew you were wrong, then, that you'd been silly. There was no way to take back what you'd said.

"No, amor. Of course it was not on purpose." Alexia told you. She yanked you forward into her arms again, squeezing tight. "You thought it was on purpose?"

"I don't know, I was just... worried. You know how I get."

She did, she was well aware of how insecure you could get for seemingly no reason. Normally, she could recognize when you were heading that direction, and stop it before you began to completely doubt yourself. This time, though, she hadn't done that.

"Pack a bag." Alexia said suddenly, pulling away and sliding out of bed, heading into the closet.

"What?" You questioned, sitting up, confused at the sudden change in her demeanor.

"We a have a day off tomorrow, and we will take the day after that off too. We will go away for the weekend, leave the dogs with Alba."

"Ale, what?"

Alexia didn't take days off. Neither did you, really.

"Get up, pack, venga mi niña, time is wasting!" Alexia responded, peeking out of the closet with a large smile on her face.

"Are you being serious?" You laughed. She sighed, dropping the stack of shirts she was holding, moving closer to take your face in her hands.

"Dead serious. I need time with my girl, no interruptions. You need the same, yes?"

You nodded, smiling shyly up at her.

"Good. I will pack your favorite strap!" Alexia smirked, backing away from you when you blushed, and swatted at her. You stared after her in disbelief, as she headed back into the closet, leaving a mess of clothes in her wake.

"Come on, come on, come on!" She yelled excitedly.

You got out of bed, smiling to yourself. Alexia was not a spontaneous person, that was all you. As evidenced by the 2 puppies sitting in your living room currently. She would always be what you needed of her, though. Even if it didn't come naturally to her; she'd be whatever you needed. Always.

-----

shorter than i was planning, but perhaps it's because i didn't want to rush the smut i was planning at the end. so. be on the lookout for part 3 :) it'll be dirty 😈

[its-time-to-write]

OOOO what about reader falling asleep on jamie’s shoulder after a late away game (maybe they come along to games on the bus) and realizing how much he loves them

Thanks for requesting! This one is a lot shorter, but I hope it’s what you’re looking for <3

silent sleepers

Rebecca lets you come to games on the team bus. Well, you say she lets you, it’s really the team’s choice. She’s just the one who signs off on it. You go for Jamie, who gives you the window seat and holds your hand the whole way there and back, joking with the lads. You don’t talk a whole lot, but you don’t really mind. Sometimes Colin or Isaac will turn around from the seat in front of you and you’ll spend an hour chatting and laughing about whatever, but for the most part you just look out the window and think.

Life is busy, so you don’t often get time to sit without having to talk. It’s nice to be here on this smelly bus, holding Jamie’s hand because you’re both relaxed. 

A voice breaks through your reverie. “Good morning, Mrs. Tartt.”

You look away from the window to see a grinning Dani turned around in his seat in front of you.

You smile. “I’m not his wife, Dani.”

“Not yet anyway, eh?” Still grinning, he pokes Jamie who gives him a cut it out motion where you can’t see. 

You don’t notice and laugh, blushing a little. You’ve only kind of talked about the future with Jamie, and you don’t really think he’s the type to settle down like that. It’s ok, you’ll take him however you can get him. You settle into your seat, ready for an hour of comparing hair products with Dani.

—

The game went well, and you’re all piled into the bus. Everyone is excited, but so, so tired. The chatter has turned to a dull murmur as you hug Jamie’s arm, watching the lights go by out the window. He’s warm and you can feel him breathe, and pretty soon you’re passed out, asleep on his shoulder.

Jamie, on the other hand, is sitting very, very still. He doesn’t want to wake you, especially because you don’t usually sleep very well. He presses a light kiss on the top of your head and you twitch, so he pulls away. He looks at you, with your eyes closed and mouth parted, muscles relaxed after being constantly tensed. Hair slightly tousled. He could sit here like this forever. 

He thinks about Dani’s teasing words earlier. Mrs. Tartt. He turns the words over in his head. Mr. and Mrs. Tartt. The Tartts. He likes how that sounds. 

God, he sounds like a fucking middle school boy, writing your name over and over in the notebook in his mind, hearts in the margins.

In all honesty, you were one of the best things that happened to him. He’s not sure how he pulled you in the same way you’re not sure how you pulled him, but he supposes it’s good that you think you’re mutually out of each other’s league. It’s a little bit sweet. 

You had some initial awkwardness about him being a famous footballer, but you worked through it. Hell, you two worked through everything. You refused to back down from a disagreement, with the mantra it’s not you against me, it’s you and me against the problem. 

You were also funny. He swore you two were the funniest people on earth once you got going. He felt like you two could do everything together. He wanted to do everything together. A thought flashes through his brain. Our kids will be fuckin’ adorable. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that his brain said will instead of could.

You let out a little sigh, bringing him back to reality.

Dani peeps over and winks at Jamie. 

“Ey, muchacho, good game today, no?”

“Yeah, yeah, good, yeah,” Jamie whispers. “Hey, Dani.”

Dani cocks his head to say what?

“Mate. You gotta play it cool, man.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Dani asks innocently. “I always play my coolest. I think it was pretty evident in the goal I scored today.”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about on way over here when you made that fucking Mrs. Tartt joke.”

Dani places a hand over his heart. “You mean to tell me you do not want her to be Mrs. Tartt and I have made things uncomfortable for you? Oh no, I feel awful.”

Jamie would sock him in the arm if you didn’t have a death grip on him in your sleep. He levels Dani with a stare. “You know exactly what I’m talking about muchacho. You know how hard she is to surprise and if you ruin it, I’m sending Isaac after your hair.”

Dani gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Fuckin’ try me,” Jamie grins. 

Dani grins back and turns back around in his seat. Jamie looks down at you one last time and uses his other hand to reach into his left pocket. The little black box he carries everywhere is safe inside. He breathes out a sigh and rests his head on top of yours. 

Mrs. Tartt. Yeah, it’s going to happen.

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 7}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: A letter, clear words, the work forged by skilled but aching hands, all of it helps you to heal from what had been one of the worst weeks of your life.

Word Count: 13.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, age gap (reader is early 40's and joel is 57), pining, requited unrequited love, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, light angst, hurt and comfort, fighting, two (2) satisfying slaps, joel miller's hands need their own warning, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), soft joel, pet names (sweetheart), serious conversations, apologies, references to child loss, minor character death, blood, talk of female anatomy, reader has no assigned name but has a commonly used nickname, lemme know if i missed any major ones!

A/N: SURPRISE, Y'ALL!! i was supposed to have internet installed this week but it's been delayed again and my local library is only open today and since queues make me nervous, i threw caution to the wind and yeah - WE MADE IT. this is the final chapter! i am so delighted and humbled by the responses to this fic. i put a lot of myself into olive and for everyone to root for her and cheer her on means so, terribly much to my lil heart. i love y'all and i hope this finds you well ♡

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The hush of cardstock is the only sound in the room as Joel shuffles through the recipes you had written down for him, for him and Ellie. The fancy loops of your cursive are faded, a little blurred in some spots and he regretted your time and devotion getting smudged by his lack of attention. He had been too slow to retrieve all the index cards where they had landed, flying into the air as you had run straight into his back. It had taken so long because Marsha hadn’t seemed to get the hint or his direct words that he was not and would not be with her the way that she wished for him to be.

But she did now. She had been picking Millie up when Joel had all but kicked the door in, shouts of needing help echoing down the street. The woman had flattened herself to the wall, eyes taking in your unconscious form in Joel’s arms. How carefully he maneuvered, how mindful he was to not jostle your body too much, how frantic his expression was even as he tried to explain what he could to the nurse and doctor who sprang forward at the sight. His brows were drawn together, worry evident as he explained to them your stitches from a few days ago had opened, how you had been coughing up blood before he found you. The fear in his strong voice when he detailed how cold you were, how unresponsive. All of it combined was a reflection of his care for you. Something only seen in his interactions with Ellie. And now with you.

Joel had felt pride surge in his chest at seeing the damage you had inflicted on the other woman, guilt flaring just seconds after. You had been pushed to your breaking point, not just by her but by everyone in your life. Evidence of the fight was etched across your body from the scratches from the woman’s nails up and down your arms, the tangled tresses of your loose hair, to the bruises that had blossomed along your soft skin.

The most notable with the tearing of your stitches. The stain of blood on your skin in places he couldn’t wipe it away, for fear of harming you further, even in your unconscious state. It had been three days, and you still hadn’t woken up. Even after the repair to the wound, a better stitch pattern was implemented and two blood transfusions. One from him and one from Tommy.

He hadn’t wanted to leave your side since he brought you in, but he had things he needed to take care of. The few people who interacted with you coming in and checking on you, him coming to spend each evening by your bedside and staying through the night. Maria was across from him now, Macon sound asleep in her arms as the clock ticking on the wall displayed the post sunset hour.

“Marsha will be interrogated at the next town meetings, for her behavior and words towards Olive.”

“Good.” Joel croaked, his voice gravely from disuse.

“Millie will be on next week’s patrol with you, per your request. Once she’s adequately trained, she’ll be added to the rotation.”

“If she takes to being trained. I have a feeling she might pretend to not learn anythin’ just to get out of it.”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Maria hummed in agreement, knowing more than Joel the small requests and complaints the woman has made in her time behind the walls. “It’s time some of the people who have been idle share the responsibility. Besides, Olive requested to be taken off patrol before. I’m sure she’ll double down on that once she’s recovered.”

“Please tell me she didn’t hate being forced to be my partner when Tommy asked. I don’t think I could ever apologize enough if it was somethin’ she didn’t want to-“

“Joel, she was okay with it, believe me.” Moving to stand, the woman reached to rest a hand on your legs beneath the blankets. “She was glad to feel like she was trusted enough to be asked. She never had any ill feelings toward you, even when she didn’t know you.”

She watches him, he can feel the weight of her stare on him as he continues to go over each of the cards contents. There’s a bag beside him, a small canvas thing he had loaded up with some spare pieces of lumber from bigger projects, scraps that he spent the evening hours whittling and carving as he sits beside you bed. He alternates between doing that and going over the cards, habits to keep him awake as he sits vigil and waits for you to return to him.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when you came back. But…you surprised me.”

“How so?” He knows he was always a sore and heavy subject between her and his brother. Even more so when he quite literally stumbled onto their doorstep. He had been determined to change, to give back into the second chance at life he had been handed, for Ellie, for his brother– for himself. Aligning himself with the customs and way of life carved out in the plains of Wyoming. He’s glad he hadn’t fallen completely to the depraved, hallowed out version he had adapted to, had been forced to become with the loss of everything he knew, with the loss of his daughter.

“You’ve meshed well with the lifestyle we created here, got onto good terms with one of the best people we have here.”

He didn’t look up from the cards in his hands, he knew that. Deep down, he knew you hadn’t minded patrolling with him. But it was hard to understand with how messed up everything was at the moment and he lost himself to the circling thoughts of how hurt you had looked as you stood your ground with him a few days ago in your kitchen. But his head shot up when a whimper sounded into the air that wasn’t from the woman or his nephew.

You were stirring in the bed, eyes still closed. Hands shaking as they raised to cradle your middle, mind no doubt recalling the circumstances of your last waking moments. Joel’s heartbeat was loud in his chest, echoing in the spot where they had drawn blood from the inside crook of his right elbow. Macon gurgled in Maria’s hold, wide eyes cut towards you as you shifted a little underneath the blankets.

“Joel…” You murmured, eyes clenching shut tightly. You weren’t rousing, you were still unconscious, though your mind seemed to be in working order if you were dreaming. Joel sets down the index cards atop the blankets over you, moving closer to grip a hand with both of his, the other laid out flat to ensure the line of the IV didn’t get tangled or kinked.

“I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.” He soothed you as best he could, the wrap of your fingers around his stirring his heart to beat faster in his ribcage.

As he’s leaving the morning, a patrol that he would be taking Ellie out on with the approval of the council to begin her training as well, he see’s the shadow of two figures approach your room out of the corner of his eye just as he’s placing a parting kiss on your forehead.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here this early.” It’s the sister and brother pair you had insisted on bringing back. The woman, Callie Joel thinks her name is, is holding a hand to her swollen stomach protruding out from beneath her long coat. It looks like it wouldn’t fasten with how far along she was. Nolan, the man who had been with you when this whole mess started was a step behind her and a bouquet of dried flowers clenching in his hand.

“It’s okay, was jus’ leavin’.”

“Look, Mr. Miller.” Nolan steps up to him, leaving a few feet of space as Joel turns to head to the door while Callie sidles up to take the chair he had slept in and scoot it close to your unconscious form. “I tried my best to tamp down the fight, but Olive, she’s…she’s a scrappy one. Was on that other girl before I could even blink.”

“Millie. The other one’s name is Millie.”

“Millie did this?” Callie questions from her spot holding your hand in hers, eyes wide. “She’s been so nice to me, I had dinner with her and her mom just last week…”

“Millie ‘n Olive don’t get along too well, bad history.” Joel hopes he isn’t overstepping your privacy by saying so, but if the two were intent on being at least friendly with you, they deserved to know that not everyone was so forward in their interactions with you. “Patrol gone wrong, they both lost someone important to them and Millie didn’t deal with it well.”

“She called her a whore, when she saw us talking.” Nolan explained, “Olive moved first and apologized, but all hell broke loose when Millie hit her back.”

“She what?” Joel felt anger burn hot through his veins, the implication of you being anything other than kind and thoughtful not sitting well with him. No wonder you had snapped, Joel hadn’t found out exactly what had occurred, the council stemming the raging gossip as best they could as soon as it began to spread. Reminding people to deal with personal issues in non-confrontational ways or punishment would be doled out and extra duties would be tacked on.

The two fell quiet, feeling the anger simmering in him. Joel’s face had darkened, brow furrowed deep and his jaw ticking as he tried to get a control on it.

“Y’all have a good day.” He manages before he’s out the door, his steps even and nearly silent as he makes his way out of the infirmary. He’s at Marsha’s in the blink of an eye, fist knocking against the wood of their front door.

“Marsha isn’t home, she’s serving out her punishment by taking over Olive’s morning shifts at the mess hall.” Maria’s voice calls to him as she strolls down the street. Macon is in her arms, but he’s fussing. She stops and places him in the baby carriage in front of her and quiets him with a pacifier. “Millie is out getting the rundown of how patrol works and what her responsibilities are.”

“Did you know that Millie called-“

“Yes. It’s been dealt with.” Maria’s voice implied she didn’t agree with what happened, that it was indeed being considered with much thought, not taken lightly with how it built up to the point of combustion in the town’s center on one of the busiest nights.

“Easy now, honey, there you go.” Tommy’s soothing voice allowed for you to feel less embarrassed about how slow moving you were, how long it was taking to trek from the infirmary to your house. His arm was around your waist, his other in front of him as he held onto your right hand for added support. “Joel will probably be knocking on your door the second he gets back from patrol and finds you gone from the clinic.”

“He can knock all he wants.” You huffed out, not too sure how you were feeling toward the man at the moment. Once you had woken up, the nurses told you he hadn’t left your side during the nights you had been there. Tommy and Maria sharing with you the way he had been frantic to find you the second he had found out about your fight with Millie. The decision of you no longer wanting to do patrol being portrayed as a punishment for your violent outburst. But the council held no real ill will toward you, having addressed the behavior you faced from more than a few of the townspeople.

“Marsha is due to cover your shifts at the mess hall, the early ones. Until you’re ready to go back.”

“Dunno, think she needs more ‘n a week or two tackling that hectic shift.”

“There’s my girl,” Tommy beamed, glad to know you weren’t too injured to show the side of yourself he knew.

As you turned down your street, Tommy let go of you at your insistence to try and support yourself. After a few stumbling steps, you managed to find your balance, even if your pace was still on the slow side.

“Joel ‘n I fixed your door. Well, we made a new one, actually. Old man did some damage to the other one when his big bulky frame was pushed into it by those storm winds,” He chuckled, most likely picturing the ordeal that was far more tense and serious than a mishap on Joel’s part. It had been…one of the hardest things you had to do, stand your ground and deny the man you had come to care. Especially in the face of him practically confessing to you that he shared in your feelings. “Cranked the heat up to get it back to the temperature you prefer. Even watered the plants for you, fed that stray that comes around sometimes. I think it found the crate you set up for it on your back porch.”

“You’re too sweet, Tommy. Thank you.” You watched as he unlocked the door and for the first time since leaving the infirmary you noticed how he was constantly shifting. His weight from foot to foot, his hands raking through his long, dark curls.

He helped you up the few steps of your stoop, his hands a gentle weight, arms ready to tense and catch you should you lose your balance. Once you were settled in your bed, a bottle of pain killers and a glass of water on your bedside, the man tentatively settled on the foot of your bed.

“I wanted to apologize, formally.” He started, brown eyes glittering in the midafternoon sunlight filtering in through the blinds. You leaned up from the pillows propped up behind your back and up against the fabric headboard, about to say something but he held up a wide palm to stop you. “You told me ‘n Maria in passing the behavior people have toward you. It was out of our control, freedom of speech ‘n all but…we should’ve at least tried to tamp it down more than we did.”

“Tommy, everyone has already done so much in letting me in, giving me a chance. I did-didn’t want to stir any trouble and it wasn’t real-really anything I couldn’t handle.”

“Honey…” He stands up and nestles himself between you and the edge of the bed, his back on the headboard right next to you. He brings you into his chest and kisses into the crown of your head as you return the embrace. something he hadn’t done since you appeared back at Jackson’s gates with blood covering you head to toe and the corpse of your friend draped over the back of your horse. “You deserve to feel comfortable, to feel safe. No matter what.”

The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning, you shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen without turning on a light. It was still dark out, using what little of the streetlight so close to the front of your house filtered in through the sheer curtains. When you sat at the kitchen table, you tried to set your mug down but there was a clatter as the bottom of it collided with something already resting there. And the space next to it, it seemed the whole table was covered in stuff, leaving no room for you to set it. Mumbling about people being in your house and rearranging your stuff, you shuffled over to the lamp atop the storage hutch’s middle shelf.

But you’re shocked when you flick the light on and turn back around to the table. It’s…covered. Every inch of the surface taken up by small stacks of what looks like intricately carved plates, serving trays, spoons, spatulas, and small figures that look like birds moving in a downward swoop. The coffee still in your hand splashes a little to the tile beneath your bare feet, starting you as it bounces up to kiss the skin of your ankles. But you pay it no mind as you absently set it on the hutch beside the light and move to the table with watering eyes.

It had to have been him. Joel.

The plates are beautiful, vaguely floral shaped and stained such a deep mahogany. They’re not too heavy, though they are very sturdy in your inspecting hands. Turning each one from the three separate stacks of them, each a different size from dessert to salad to serving plates, reveal a small J.M branded into the wood. Each of the leaf shaped serving trays reveal the same, though they are heavier and a bit harder for you to turn over in your weakened state. Large smoothed edged bowls are nestled in each other, the topmost one holding matching large serving spoons made your heart lurch and your stomach swoop.

The carving had been lovingly attended to because each rivet and swirl, each boarder and flat surface, it was all so seamlessly smooth. On evert single piece littering your table.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks to rest atop his intricate creations. The sight of two sets of spoons and two sets of spatulas held together with twine making you have to clap a hand over your mouth as a sob wracks through your body. The memory of hurling the ones you had requested from him flashing too bright and loud. You had taken something crafted by him and thrown in across this very kitchen, disrespecting the time and attention he had devoted to the request you had made.

Collapsing into the chair, you let the emotions of the last week take over you. Your coffee is lukewarm when you rise to retrieve it, but you twirl a carved bird in your hand as you sip from it, tears waned for the moment. That’s when you spot the large, flattened pieces on the other side of the table.

Cutting boards, three of them. Each one with a branding on the thick sides to label them individually for herbs, vegetables, and meat. The entire surface of each it sealed with a coating, but beneath it on the corners are floral patterns that you squint your eyes to take a closer look at. Gasping, you realize he had depicted the blooms often found on olive trees. His voice suddenly rings in your head as your mind recalls something you weren’t even conscious for but had filed away.

‘I made you one…I made them all for you. All of them, every single one….C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.’

‘I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.’

The tears flow, with no end in sight as you reach a shaking hand for the note you see laying atop the largest one.

‘Olive, I know I’m shit with words, I know I’ve sent such mixed signals with everything. But I want you to know, need you to know that seeing you is the best part of my day, of every day. Even if it’s just across the mess hall, across the street, as I walk home from patrol and see you in the window of your kitchen with a soft smile. The talks we have, the questions we share, every single word we’ve exchanged as made me feel worthy of the things you think of me, for the first time in a long while.

You are such an extraordinary, kind, thoughtful person and I am so lucky to have made it here to Jackson to cross paths with you. I can’t change what happened, but each hitch of your breath, each tug of the brim of your hat over your eyes, each moment spent with you makes me want to wrap you up in my arms and keep you close. I don’t want the first time you hear the words from me to be in writing, but, Olive. I fear I’ve fallen for you, and it’s made me such a fool. Please take these gifts for what they are, a representation of how I think of you every second of every day. Of how you inspire me to be a better person. Of how much love I have for you. J.M.’

Your coffee goes completely cold as you sit at the table, reading the note over and over again.

The gentle knock on your door kickstarted your heart, fluttering hard in your chest as you knew who was on the other side of the repaired wood. You turned the burner off on the stove top, shifting it to rest atop one of the cooler ones. You called for the man who held your heart to ‘wait a second, please’ before you turned to the table and reached for one of the serving bowls, spooning out the steamed contents of the pan into it and placed it back among the others already atop the table. The table was full, dishes coloring the spread laid out across the table. The rest of his gifts had been carefully places in the hutch along the back wall, some of them displayed behind the glass of the topmost part.

Toasted sandwiches cut into triangles rested atop one of the leaf serving trays, the one you had just filled up with three different types of steamed and roasted vegetables. A glass pitcher of fresh juice you pressed earlier a deep red and shining in the flames from candles interspersed between the trays and plates. You nervously ran your hands down the front of your apron, a worn but loved patterned thing that wrapped around the back of your neck and at the back of your waist.

The brownies looked a little thick, now that you took a second to consider them. A rich buttercream piped into a swirling tower amid them stacked up on one of the larger flower plates. The midsize ones set in front of two chairs with empty glasses and clean utensils beside them. All set up, all waiting.

For him, for Joel.

Moving to the door, you paused and took a deep breath to calm yourself, the titter of shyness you weren’t sure you would ever overcome when it came to the man on the other side. Reaching for the lock, you clicked it out of its setting and twisted the handle to open the door.

Joel was stood there, silhouetted against the bright winter sun, the broadness of his shoulders and the volume of his curls on display so close for you. His head had been hanging, one hand on the wall beside the door. And when he looked up to catch your eyes, your breath hitched and you felt your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close. To let him make his written words a reality and cradle you in his arms.

“I-I got your no-note. And the – the things you left f-for me.”

“Did you,” He cleared his throat, hand moving from where it was supporting him to fall to his side, clenching and unclenching in that own nervous habit he had. His eyes roved up and down your body, taking the image you were making in your doorway. You felt like you looked okay, but your hair was a little frizzed out from the heat of cooking. And you were so, incredibly self-conscious. He was such a handsome man, and you were…just you. His voice was shaky, something you couldn’t ever recall hearing from someone normally so controlled. “Did you…like everythin’ alright?”

“It’s all so perfect. Th-thank you.” You smoothed your hands down the front of the apron again, nervous and unsure of how to approach him even as your body hummed in anticipation from the thought of it. He loved you. And you loved him back.

“And the- the note?”

“Y-yeah.” You couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his, too self-conscious with how all uncharted everything seemed to be.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I-“ He surged forward through the open door, but his boots scuffed as he cut the movement short. You had unconsciously stepped back, nerves alight from the last time you had been approached. Muscles twitching, your arms tingled with the way you tried to relax from the sudden tension that had flooded your entire body. Fight or flight activated. You could see the way his throat bobbed with the nervous swallow he took before sighing out a deep breath. “Olive, I swear to you, I- you’re so good. The sweetest, prettiest thing I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in my time and if you’ll let me, I’ll be a good man for you. I’ll be a good man with you.”  

“Joel, I-“ Your words choked off into a sob, tears trialing hot down your cheeks as your emotions spiked and cascaded over you. Hands trembling as you did reach out for him, fingers wrapping around the unzipped edges of his thick jacket. He moved into you, his own hands coming up to cradle your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m with you. Not goin’ anywhere unless you want me to, okay?” He holds you, letting you bury your tear-stained face into his neck. The flow of them still falling from your eyes dampening the fabric of his flannel.

“D-do you want some lunch?” A shy smile pulled at your lips, heat blooming in your chest even as the tears continue to fall.

He seems to release all of the tension in his shoulders as he sighs out something relieved. You can tell he’s a little confused by the question, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. The opportunity to spend time with you, to talk to you. He had come here, after all, not even knowing where you two stood after everything. Fresh from a patrol, you could smell the lingering scent of hay from the stables on him. The leather from his gloves sliding along and holding the reigns of his horse. Nodding, you finally manage to meet his eyes and your breath hitches even as a pang of worry echoes in your chest.

“H-how was patrol?” You wait for him to take a seat before you go to pick up the pitcher and pour him some of the juice you had made. His hands are a soft hush over yours as he takes it from you and pours himself a glass before reaching for your own empty one with a lopsided smile.

“It was good, took Ellie out for her first one. She’s been buggin’ me about it since the start of winter.”

“Is she going to be my replacement? I don’t want her to feel like she has to if she’s not ready.” His eyes move over your face as you spoon steaming vegetables onto his plate and then yours.

“Maria agreed with me that Millie should be trained up, she’s starting with me next week. It’s part of her punishment for instigating the fight.”

“Oh.” Another thing for the woman and her mother to hold against you. You worried for a second of how much damage you had done to her in your near fugue state but then realized if she was okay enough to start patrol then she was far better off than you happened to be.

“We don’t have to talk about that or we- we can, if you want to. Just…just want to talk with you. About anything.” About anythin’, about nothin’.”

The conversation isn’t much from then on, but it’s enough to hold his attention. You’re tired, so incredibly tired and lethargic from the emotional morning you had, from putting all the food spread over the table together, not much of it left after Joel devours a lot of it. Starvin’ he had said through a bite, pink tinging his ears as you offered to make another sandwich for him. He had assured you everything you had made was enough and now a half pot of coffee sits in mugs in front of you each, brownies bitten into after dipping it in the frosting you had made.

As soon as his two were swallowed, he turned beseeching, wide eyes to you and you found moving to stand between his legs. His arms were so warm around you, the food and his company weighing you down in the best way as you wrap your own around his neck. His face is buried in your chest while you press a kiss to his steel curls, something that worries you for a split second before he sighs out a small ‘you’re so soft, sweetheart’.

“I-I want to talk more, but,” Your weight sagged against him, his arms tightening around you to help keep you on your feet. “I’m so tired, Joel. I think I need to lay down.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand, lemme just- I’ll clean up lunch and get out of your hair, go on and rest.” But you didn’t move, your breath hitching as you leaned back enough to peer up at him. Your eyes surely gave away how drained you were, but you weren’t quite yet ready to let him go. Even if things were a little stilted and there was so much to discuss. Right now you just wanted to lay down, to get off your feet and relieve some of the tension on your stitches.

“W-will you stay?”

“Of course.”

He follows silently behind you, boots thudding on the hardwood flooring of the hallway. Each step matching the beating of your heart. Through the door and into your room, you realize he must’ve already been in here, it was so tidy and the laundry that had piled up was neatly folded atop your dresser.

If he’s just as nervous as you are, he doesn’t show it. Seemingly taking things as they come, letting you shrug him from the flannel you had unbuttoned. When you move your hands to the buckle of his belt, one of his large hands covers both of yours. Looking up, you reassure him nothing has to happen and that you aren’t ready for anything to happen but you don’t want the denim on your clean sheets. He nods, letting you continue to disrobe him. A shaky laugh falls from his plush lips as you notice the line of him through his boxer briefs, it twitches under your quick glance, and you feel a swoop in your own stomach in response.

He asks if you need to change to, offering to turn around. But you grip his wrists and bring his hands to the ties at the side. It’s a loose thing, to help you manage to move around better, the prospect of pants and a belt too daunting despite the season. He carefully lifts the fabric from your body, his eyes on your face the entire time, even as the clothing falls to pile on top of his. With a nervous giggle, you lead him to the bed and you both get comfortable underneath the covers. It’s early, not even the sun has set, but neither of you seem to mind the time.

He's settled against the pillows when you reach out a hand on your normal side of the bed, fingers tangling with his as you lay slightly on your side toward him. The bandages around your middle are obvious underneath the camisole you wear with your underwear. He’s facing you too, his other hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I…I want to.” Your words are barely above a whisper, as you take in the image he creates beside you, filling the empty part of your bed with his broad frame. His steel curls flattened on the pillow, his warmth only a few inches away, his eyes soft and watching you as you collect the words from your mind to fill your tongue. It had been something you yearned for since that first brush of his hand against yours, that first smile you managed to pull from him with an offhand comment, from the first moment he asked you a question in return to one of your own. Even if someone else had shown you the same kindness, his would be the one you sought after. “Be with you.”

“I want that too, sweetheart, more’n anything, but…I hurt you. I know that, I was careless in my attempts to be careful, to not push you. To…surprise you with what I wanted to be the first thing I gifted you.”

“Tommy told me. You know I thought some kids stole that piece of the trunk?” Your eyes glitter with a hint of mirth, teasing tone light and reminiscent of times past. It’s fleeting, the bone deep exhaustion settled in your body not only physical but mental. “I…Joel, I worry about…everything. All the time. You deserve to the chance to thrive here, for Ellie to thrive here and…being with me would-“

“I’d choose you over the town any day, you’ve gotta know that. Me and Ellie, we’ve been through a lot but we’re tough, you don’t gotta worry about us. I know…that people see her lack of manners and anxious tendencies as something that needs to be fixed. Maybe, yeah, the little troublemaker could stand to hold her tongue sometimes but she’s so young, she’s got a lot to unlearn from being raised the way she was. She’s a good kid, she’s good but you are too. We’ll take it slow, because I haven’t done this dance in while, hell, ever really. And I want to do it right, I want to be what you want because I definitely know you don’t need me.”

“I haven’t needed for anything in a long time, but Joel Miller believe me when I saw my days are better when they’re spent with you. Even…even the bad ones to an extent.”

“I’ll apologize a thousand times.” He tightens his grip, tired eyes trained on them. There’s a sadness to them, the depths of which he had let you glimpse once before. Loss, pain, devastation in the wake of when the world has broken and then turned into. You share in that sadness, having lost the person you had devoted your life to protecting, having lost the life you had just begun to flourish in before it was ripped from your hands, having lost a child that you could still hear crying in your sleep some nights…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, the need for comfort from the one person you wanted it from, needed it from. It was true that you had been complacent before him, not concerned with the things people felt the need to pursue in the lives they felt safe enough to pursue here in the town. That he stroked yearning in the very core of who you were, something you hadn’t ever experienced even back when the world was thriving and bustling as it once had been.

“Can we j-just kiss a-and start to move for-forward?”  

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I exactly deserve that right now…” Your face falls. The small, shy smile dipping and the sides of your mouth dropping into a frown as you feel the burn of tears prickle again behind your cheeks. The rejection hurts, even if you understand why he feels that way and agree with him to an extent that this situation isn’t going to magically fix itself.

“But I do.”

He doesn’t even think to argue, not with the way that he’s leaning close to touch his soft lips to yours as soon as the words leave them.

“I’ve gotta get goin’, sweetheart.” Joel’s whisper roused you, so close you reached for him. Long fingers curling around his wrist, nails lightly scratching the soft skin there. He felt the cumulation of inching out of bed slowly and quietly to not wake you as the vain attempt it was. He should’ve known his efforts would be fruitless, his resolve chipping away to nothing when you breathed his name out on a sleepy sigh. “I got training patrol. Be back early this afternoon, bring you something from the mess hall, alright sweetheart?”

You only hummed in response, lips pressed against his wrist now, sending tingling trickles of sensation all over his body at the easy way in which you displayed your affection for him now. It had been a couple of weeks. Two weeks of you making dinner one night, then walking him through another the next day. Of coffee in the mornings when he wasn’t busy, the never-ending list housed on the spiral notepad in his back pocket present in only the worn fabric over his pockets, the actual thing mysteriously gone. A break for the season, he has said when you asked him, palming the fabric of his back pockets one day.

As you lay in bed, dozing back off in the wake of his departure, Joel is outside the gates with a nervous Millie astride a horse beside him. They stop on as Joel figures an open field a few miles away would be the best bet for practice. Far enough for the sound of gunfire to not echo back and alarm people but close enough to rush back should something go awry.

“Know anythin’ about guns?” He looks over to the younger woman, her eyes wide and her head on a swivel as she constantly takes in her surrounds. He feels a little bad that she’s so on edge, but the only way to make her more comfortable is to get her out more and more. Allow her to see that it doesn’t have to be all bad. But he does understand her reaction, she’s never been outside the walls, had never been outside the town that it was before the walls went up. She had been younger than you when the world shattered, had people to look after her and care for her.

“My daddy taught me how to shoot them when the world fell apart. But that was…a long time ago now.”

“Okay, well, we’re gonna see what suits you better. On patrol we use shotguns, but a handgun will do in a pinch. The key is range, keeping any threat as far away as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” She watches him closely as he removes the shotgun slung around his back. He checks that the safety is secured and he holds it out to her as she moves to stand beside him at the beckoning of his hand. He walks her through the general mechanics of the gun, firm in her not placing her finger on the trigger until she was ready to shoot.

“Are you right or left handed?”

“Um…I favor my left.” He hands off the gun to her, telling her to practice her grip on the large gun while he rummages in one of the packs attached to his saddle. He’s got a cloth bag that he fills with snow and ice that coats the ground, propping it up a good distance away on top of a long dead tree stump.

Time passes and her aim gets a little better, though she’s taking too long to line up her shots. Joel reminds her to just take a breath in and shoot as she exhales. But the words cut off as he sees movement on the horizon of their spot on in the field. He’s off a ways from her, by the target he had set up for the woman to practice on. He’s turned to hold a halting hand up to her before he takes his own gun out from the holster and puts one of them down.

Another sprints from the cover of the forest nearby, but he’s focused on taking down the other two far too close for comfort. Just as he turns to take out the one closing in on him, it lunges and he’s struggling not to fall with the sudden weight slamming into him. His gun goes flying and he curses out as he tries to fend it off with his arms, the snapping of its mangled teeth loud and far too close to his face.

He wishes he had spent a few more minutes with you in bed, pressing his lips to your forehead to your cheek, to your plush lips, to any part of your body he could as the bullet ripped through him and pain sparked hot across his entire chest. Through it, he manages throw the stunned thing to the ground, another shot flying from across the field to land directly in the back its head. Joel is looking up as he bends down to retrieve his gun, his other hand pressing hard to the burning in his shoulder. Millie is too focused on him to see the blur running toward her, too late in her shifting attention as it grips her shoulder tights. Taking a deep breath, Joel tries to focus as best he can to line up his aim and take out the single Infected that remained.

He shoots and it goes down.

His shoulder throbs and his vision darkens at the edges.

“Joel!” You shout, simmering panic making you forget common manners as you burst through the door leading into the main exam room of the infirmary. There are three beds lined up on the opposite wall, other rooms set up for more serious cases that required overnight stays. Millie and Joel are settled into two of them, the younger trembling and holding her right shoulder while Joel is pressing a kerchief to his front, blood soaking it through.

Marsha is already plastered to the side of her daughter’s bed. Making no noise whatsoever, which was just as uncomforting as you realized how pale she they both were. Blood splattered over Joel while Millie looked relatively unharmed.

Millie launches into a jumble of words as she gets up from the bed, but you stop her in your tracks with a chilling look over your shoulder as you go immediately to Joel’s side.

“You need to back the fuck up, Millie. I told you I’m not engaging with you anymore, now go back to your own bed and mind your business.”

Turning from them, your eyes land on Joel and he’s barely able to keep his eyes open as he lays across the bed. Your heart stutters, as does your voice the closer you get to him.

“You two are just perfect for each other with your penchant for harsh words.” Jealousy was ugly on the older woman, making her act out towards you but more concerningly towards Joel. He hadn’t done anything wrong, even in the moments he had let his anger flare around her and he scolded her for her manipulation and childish behavior. He had told you all about it, about every interaction between them to tide your hurt feelings and assumptions about them. He hadn’t needed to do it, but he had wanted to be completely transparent. To share with you the things he experienced.

“And you would be just perfect for recognizing harsh words, wouldn’t you?” You fire back, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at the woman who had caused so much grief and anxiety. Your words seem to stun her, as she doesn’t rebuff you in anyway, but you feel guilt flash at the kneejerk reaction, still so worried about upsetting anyone or instigating anything remotely unfriendly. But Joel was bleeding and it you were far more worried about him at the moment.

“What ha-hap-happened? That’s so mu-much blood!”.”  You ask him quietly, concerned with how his unseen injuries could be affecting him. His fingers twitch, letting you know he was trying to reach out for you. You sidle up beside him, hands reaching for his left as your wide eyes take in the expanse of his naked chest. The nurse has on pink stained white. One of the nurses bursts through the open door, ignoring the tension in the room, quickly getting to work with the tray of equipment she brought in. Her pristine gloves immediately take on a pink stain, blood gushing over his front as she digs a pair of long tweezers into a large bullet hole. She exposes in his right shoulder once she peels back the collar of his jacket and cuts away the tattered collar of his undershirt. “J-Joel, did you g-get ambushed by In-Infected? Or was it peop-people?”

“Was an accident.” He grunts out, hand tightening over yours as the nurse works to stall the bleeding.

“Millie sh-shot you?” You feel ire bubble up ugly and thick, heart beating hard at the thought of Joel out there with no protection other than the person in question, the person who had no idea how to begin to fend for herself or an injured person beyond the walls. She had been so young when the world broke, a few years younger than Aiden had been when you took him as your responsibility, his parents being the first to turn in the restaurant.

“Oh, would you shut up with that god-awful stuttering? Grown woman can’t even speak properly in a moment of crisis.”

“Mother!”

“Making a bad situation worse by simply being here, why don’t you let the nurse take care of him and just leave?”

“Mother, enough! That is no way to talk to Olive, she puts her life on the line every time she goes out beyond the walls. She and Mr. Miller have helped to make this a safe place, you should show her respect and leave her be!”

“Millie Antoinette, that is no way to speak to me.”

“You’re going to lecture me on language with the way you’ve been slinging backhanded insults about Olive all these years? Blaming her for something completely out of her control, berating her for her stutter when you know she can’t help it because the whole town makes her feel like she’s walking on eggshells.”

“This conversation is not over, we will continue this at home.”

Finally turning to look over your shoulder at the way she began to take out her frustrations on Millie, your eyes were set hard and your displeasure was obvious as you took in the way Millie’s good arm was being held far too tightly by the woman.

“Why do-don’t you just keep my na-name out of any future conversations you may have. You’ve caused enough damage, your own daughter paying for your actions and getting injured because of it. Joel getting injured because of it. No one is to blame but you and the influence you’ve lorded over her all these years. Twisting and tainting the memory of the man she loved, the man I devoted my life to protecting and ensuring he got to live a somewhat normal one after the world fell apart. He wouldn’t have wanted her to harbor such ill feelings toward me, toward what happened. But you turned it into something to use against me and you hurt her worst of all, teaching her it was okay to behave like such a child!” Your

You’re breathing heavy by the end of your outburst, finding your voice after stuttering through the first words. Unconsciously reaching for and tightening the hold on Joel’s hand through the entire exchange. He squeezes it in reassurance, through the nurse’s ministrations.

“You tell ‘er.” Joel slurs as the nurse secured a large patch of gauze over his would, betadine staining the edges of the material. The action of pressing down the tape around the corners making him hiss out a pained breath and your attention focuses on him once again.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful little-“ You could feel her approach you from behind and you let go of Joel’s hand, not wanting to jostle him should she push or shove you. She was about your height so when you swung your hand out, your palm landed right on her cheek with enough force to turn her head as the sharp slap echoed around the room.

Red blossomed bright on her skin. Her fingers twitched and you landed another hit without thinking before she could make a more intentional move.

“I know you were not about to touch me,” The feeling of your lip lifting up in a slight snarl was unpleasant, but you couldn’t help the visceral reaction to the woman after everything she had done.

Even in the wake of trying to be polite and cordial with her when you thought her and Joel were a thing, she had shown you thinly veiled niceness in return. Her eyes always watching, much like a hawk stalking its prey. But you wouldn’t be her prey any longer, unwilling to play the part she had bestowed upon you for no good reason. You weren’t a malicious person, you weren’t a violent person. Not anymore. You were kind and thoughtful and did everything you could to be nice and help out where you were needed or wanted, and you would not put up with the woman any longer.

She raised her hand up once the shock of your quick movement wore off and you used the back of your forearm to knock it down, your hand sliding down her arm to capture her wrist in your grip. Her widened eyes found yours and you hoped, fleetingly, that she was unnerved. She cried out when her wrist began to smart underneath the force of your grip, trying to pull it from you but you didn’t budge. She was a fool to think using her free hand to pry at the fingers you had wrapped around her to no avail. You saw the thought for her to raise it at you flash across her face before you felt Joel’s hand gently pull at the back of your sweater.

“That’s enough, Marsha.” Maria’s voice was harsh, cutting into the scene suddenly. “Seeing as your daughter is in good hands, let’s have a little chat.”

The woman’s harsh expression, the twist of her mouth about to shape around a degrading insult, the furrow of her brow as she focused on you, it all fell away the second she realized she had an audience.

The nurse tending to Joel moved silently from Joel’s bedside to Millie’s as you released Marsha from your hold to follow behind Maria.

“Olive, I am so sorry. For everything. You’re right, Aiden wouldn’t have wanted any of this. I-I feel so…badly for how I’ve ignored you all these years when I should’ve been there to comfort you. You lost him too.” Millie cries as the nurse tends to her bruised and swollen shoulder, there now that Joel is taken care of. There was a large bruise marring her skin that was around angry looking welts, scratches that looked like they hadn’t broken the skin, no doubt from whatever occurred outside the walls. You tried focus on her, but it was hard with the adrenaline of confronting Marha thumping harshly through your entire body, Joel could surely feel the trembles where he held onto you.

“We were practicing shootin’ and a group of five or six of ‘em came outta the trees.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you began to peel back his opened flannel and shoved up the shirt he had on underneath. Hands frantic as you felt all around his body for signs of a bite. When you brushed against his groin to move down to his legs to check underneath the denim, you noticed he had fallen quiet. Looking up at him from where you were inspecting his shins, you clocked the way he rested the inside of his wrist over his zipper and belt buckle. His face was tinged a little pink at his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“You could’ve led with that!”

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Millie shot the one that almost got me, but the first shot missed and then she took it down. She didn’t see the one comin’ up behind her cause she was so focused on helpin’ me.”

“Just lay back,” You croon sweetly, gently pushing the bulk of him to sit atop the bed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Joel groans, adjusting his hips as he scoots up to lean against the plush headboard.

It’s soft everywhere in your room, from the fabric of the headboard to your sheets and covers, to the dried flowers and sheer curtains hanging over the windows. He feels swaddled in the best way, completely wrapped up in the little world you’ve created in your space. The mix of him seen interspersed between your many books lining new shelves he crafted for you to replace the old, creaking ones worn down over time. A carved serving plate he had made for you, atop your bedside table and housing a tube of hand lotion, a note left from him the other day when he had to leave in the early hours. One of his flannels hanging up from a set of floral hooks he had made to go on the back of your door.

He was just a present influence in your home as you were in his. From the multiple bottles of oil scattered about his stove top, to the leftovers clearly labeled and stored in his fridge, to the pair of underwear that had ended up nestled with his in the top drawer of his dresser. The very ones you wore underneath his shirts when you slept over in his bed, making the sheets smell a heady combination of you both that had him seeing you in his dreams even more.

It had been a slow dance of homemade dinners, of nights spent in each other’s bed, of searing kisses and soft words shared between you both over the last two months. Both healed from the events that had allowed for the confusing and heartbreaking one to shift to this one, where it was obvious you both wanted each other, both had so much adoration for each other. But you were still so shy around Joel,  never letting things go further than wandering hands sneaking beneath clothing.

But tonight, you were feeling so encompassed by the need to see him, to touch him, to be seen and touched by him in return. Tommy had let slip it was your birthday tomorrow when he asked if you were still coming around his and Maria’s for dinner. Joel had been confused why you hadn’t shared that with him, you knew when his birthday was after all. And everything that came tangled with the date.

“Joel,” You whispered against his lips, having moved to hover over his lap with your arms atop his shoulders. His hair had grown long, the thick locks brushed back by his large hands to swoop into gorgeous curls behind his ears and over the back of his neck. Nearly brushing the tops of his broad shoulders, he groaned out as you toyed with the ends of the long locks now. Nervous energy made it hard to keep your hands still and you confessed quietly as you ran your fingers through the curls. “I…I need to tell you something before we- before we, um, do this.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” His eyes blink open, concern and worry glinting in them as he takes in the way you’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “We don’t have to do nothin’ if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Just wanna be with you, no matter what.”

You start and stutter a few times, the words trailing off as your emotions spike and memories find their way to the surface. But it was the right thing to do, to share this part of your past with him. The potential for the mood to be ruined all to glaring as you realized it would be one of the heavier things you shared with the man who had become you partner in every definition of the word.

“Joel, I…I don’t have, um, I don’t have all my…parts.” Waving a hand over your lower stomach, right where you rested over his own. His confusion was obvious as he focused on the part of your body in question, his plush lips parting as he contemplated how to better ask for clarification. But you leaned back a little, your thighs tightened around his hips as you did so to pick up the hem of your camisole and unbutton the jeans you were still dressed in. A faded but thick scar ran from the bottom of your belly button, swooping below it in an imitation of a smile and then down in a straight line from the middle to disappear beneath the band of your underwear. It was completely healed, but still pink in discoloration.

“The doctors at the QZ we briefly stayed at in the beginning of everything…they did a hysterectomy after I had my…son.”

“Olive…” His hands raise from where they were around your hips, shaking slightly as he pauses in his reach to caress the marred skin. His eyes flash up to meet yours in a silent question for consent and at a small nod, he brushes the knuckle of his index finger over it. Shuddering at the soft touch, you watch the way emotions flit across his weathered face.

“They weren’t nice about it, I still…I still have pretty vivid nightmares about it because there was very little anesthesia, something about rationing the drugs and it…it was one of the most painful things I’ve had to endure. But…I thought you-you should know because I know you have some years on me, and you said you don’t think…an accident would happen and you seemed genuinely concerned because of my age. But it wo-won’t because of this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel presses the palm of his right hand over the scar, the warmth of his skin soothing just as much as the kiss he placed on your cheek. “You’re…you’re okay though?”

“As okay as I can be about it,” You consoled his worry, breath hitching as he gently caressed the skin beneath his hand. “I waited until I was healed a year, when the threat of infection was long gone, then I took Aiden and…and Ezra and I got us the hell out of there.”

He didn’t ask how you lost Ezra, he didn’t berate you for your choice to leave the QZ, he didn’t ask how you had even ended up in that situation in the first place. He didn’t do anything but slowly move to where your back was on the bed, and he was hovering over you. Soft kisses and the brush of his mustache trailing over every inch of skin he could see. His fingers slid beneath the thin straps of your top in a silent question, and you sat up enough to allow him to life the garment from your body. Willing to show yourself to him, to take the offer of his soothing comfort. His breath puffed out at the sight of your naked chest, his fingers skimming up to brush against the supple skin and hardened peaks now on full display.

He clocks the way your fingers move to the buttons of his flannel and fumble, prompting him to take over for you to push it off his own shoulders, his undershirt disappearing along with it to the floorboards. But before you can move onto his belt, he’s gently pressing you back to the bed and pressing the plush softness of his lips to your body, trailing lower and lower until he brushes them so lightly over your scar.

Your breath hitches and you can feel the small smile as he takes his time to worship your body. To sooth the emotions he must know it took to confess something so big, to engage with him in this way even if you wanted to. Mind’s always tickin’ he would tease, no heat behind his words, but adoration.  

Fingers skimming over soft skin, the callouses of time and skill a heady sensation over it ahead of his lips, he slowly shimmies the undone fabric of your jeans down your legs. He takes the time to undo and step out of his own pair before he’s back on the bed, attention focused on your legs as he begins to move up, up, up. Only giving you the barest of chances to take in the thick line of his hard cock as it twitches beneath dark fabric.

His fingers slide underneath the waistband of your underwear from where his palms rest wide on your upper thighs, his mouth suckling the plush skin before him. His lips feel like heaven, like finally stepping through your front door after a long shift, like a hot bath after a long day, like a breath of fresh air after being in a stuffy room. It feels like home. Startling slightly at the sudden press of his nose to your clothed core, you feel more than hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“This okay, not too much?”

“Not too much,” you assure, lifting your hips to allow him to drag the fabric down. Heat blooms in your chest, worry for not being as pretty as someone else or as groomed as you used to be. But all of your anxieties and insecurities fade away as you look down and see the way his eyes are trained on your glistening cunt. He groans out as he drags the beck of a knuckle over your puffy outer lips, reveling in the jerk of your hips at the light contact.

“’s pretty, sweetheart. So perfect.” Is all the warning he gives you before he’s spreading you open with both of his hands and burying his face between your thighs. A long, warm wet lick with the flat of his tongue from one end of you to the other has your head thudding against the pillows and your hands searching for purchase in his hair.  Pleasure sparkles all over your body, glitters behind your eyes as he tastes you, suckles that little bundle of nerves, as he gently glides two of his thick, warm fingers right inside and curves them up.

His name is a strangled sound puffed into the air, your breath hitching in the way he admitted to loving so much as he begins to pet your inside walls with his fingertips, his lips latched around your clit. His patchy scruff and mustache adding to the feel of him against your skin, against the most intimate part of you he’s taking his time in pleasuring. It takes everything you have to lift your head enough to peer through bleary eyes to find him already staring up at you. His pupils blown so wide there’s no hint of the deep brown they’re made up of. His brow is furrowed in concentration, the tops of his cheeks barely visible a deep hue of pink as he worships you.

While still holding your gaze, he purses his lips and sucks, turning the sparkles of pleasure into hot waves as they overtake you. Your body isn’t your own any longer as it tenses, back arching clean off bed, your thighs clenching around his ears. Your lost in the force of the pleasure he pulled from you as easily as breathing, taken every moan and sigh as signals to what you liked best, listening to your body like he was meant to. It’s no longer yours but his.

“They’re we go, so good, sweetheart. You taste so good,” He murmurs as he helps your through the crest before pulling again to palm at himself through his underwear with one hand, the other holding your bucking hips down to clean every last bit of your release from where his fingers are pulled from you.

Reaching for him, you tug at him, urging him up to his knees so you had run your palm over the trail of dark hair that disappears below his waistband. He moves his hand from where he’s holding himself through the fabric as your fingers sneak below and touch him for the first time. His hips cant, pressing firmly into your willing hand.

“Take these off, please.” You whisper as you wrap your hand around him, barely able to touch the tips of your fingers with the girth of him fully hard. He’s hot against your skin, velvet soft over the rigidness of his cock. Finally seeing all of him as he pulls the fabric down and pushes it past his thighs. You let him go for him to toss them over the side of the bed, eyes taking in the stretch of his body through the action.

He’s peppered with freckles over his tan skin, chest covered in thick hair that’s the same steel grey of his curls, thick thighs tensed with the way he sits before you on his knees. He’s littered with scars, some thin and crisscrossing over each other, some raised thick to disrupt the smoothness of his skin, though none hold the same untold story of the one at his temple. The one he lets you brush softly before sleep. But they don’t take away from his beauty, they enhance it and let you know without a doubt he’s a fighter.

His cock is thick and long, ruddy at the tip and bobbing despite the heft to kiss his stomach as you eye him up and down. Every inch of him is beautiful and you tell him with a sigh, body singing for him to come back to you. Locking eyes with him, you see his own insecurities wash away at the wonder and admiration you gaze at him with.

As soon as you move to reach for him, he’s doing the same. Mouths connecting and laying his body over yours to feel every bit of your skin against his that he can manage, your legs parting to wrap around his waist. You gasp at the bump of his tip to your folds, the breathy sound turning into a moan when he grinds down against you, his hands tangling in your hair as he swallows it straight from your lips.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he reaches down to grip himself, guiding the ruddy tip to your entrance and holding his breath for the barest of seconds. You nod, unable to form words so wrapped around him, so covered by him, to consumed by him and what he means to you. Twin moans decorate the air as he pushes in, the girth of him stretching you and causing heat to lick at every single nerve.

It’s soft and slow, sensual the way he moves against you. Taking in the moment for all that it is, showing you in the most intimate way what you mean to him as you feel how deep he gets with every thrust. But when you moan out for him to go harder, to go faster – he willingly obliges. The slow roll of his hips shifting into quick snaps against yours, a hand gripping your thigh over his shoulder as he presses down in such a delicious way. You can tell you startle him when you cry out, the head of his cock catching that perfect spot, as your hands scrabble at his shoulders and your nails dig into the freckles skin of his broad back.

Sighing, you take a moment to stretch out your shoulders once you remove the apron from around your neck. It’s well into February and you’ve take back control of the morning shift at the mess hall.

Marsha had done a…well, she hadn’t done the best, but Maria had stepped in the week before you had been due back. To ensure everything was exactly the way you preferred it. It had been a lot of long early morning shifts on top of staying through the lunch service. You had tried to stifle your amusement at Maria complaining about how fast the woman had tried to get through cleaning tasks to get home before the sun set. None of it had been good enough for Maria, knowing that you dedicated yourself to making sure things were not only clean but ‘Olive clean’ as she termed it. Turning the whole dining room and setting up the kitchen for a smooth open the next morning since dinner was normally left to the individual households or the Tipsy Bison.

Part of her punishment was formally apologizing to you and thanking you for your service to the town, but it hadn’t happened. You weren’t holding your breath for it to happen, either. It wouldn’t undo all the anxiety and hesitancy you still had even now interacting with anyone outside of your very small circle.

“Miss Olive?” The sudden voice of someone peeking their head through the swinging door that led into the kitchen caught you off guard. “Oh shoot, I am so sorry! I didn’t meant startle you.”

“Oh, it’s okay, just lost in my own head. How can I help you?”

They step inside, an older couple that comes at the same time everyday, enjoying the quiet before the rest of the residents make their way into the dining room.

“Just wanted to say it was a good meal this morning. We really appreciate all the work you put in providing for the town. Glad to have you back in the swing of things.”

“Oh! Well, th-thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed today, had a couple friends urge me to include the pastries.” They nod at you, waving before turning away and disappearing back through the door. A smile graces your lips as you shrug on your coat and wrap a scarf around your neck. The kind words help you to trudge your way through the built up snow from the night before, none of it having melted once the sun rose. The winds are still sharp, piercing in their added chill to the air.

Your home is nice and toasty when you enter, intending to shower the splash of porridge that had gotten you, sinking into your skin even after you had wiped off. But you pause when you catch the scent of fresh coffee and hear a distant grunting coming from your back room. Instincts taking over, you reach for the bat leaning up against the corner behind the front door.

“Hello?” You call out, unsure of who would be in house since Joel was supposed to be on patrol with Ellie. Maria and Tommy wrapped up in council meetings with Macon dropped off at the school to be watched over.

“Jus’ me! Shit-“ A loud thud cuts off Joel’s words and you’re rushing down the hall to find him crouching on the floor, hands busy holding the framework of a shelving unit where it had tilted over. “Hey, sweetheart, wanted to have this done by the time you got back.”

You had torn out the old shelves of the back room, the wall smoothed and painted over a few days ago when you had tried to reorganize everything and one of them came crashing down. Ellie had been over a week or so ago, indulging in your vinyl collection as she did homework while she stayed the night, Joel on an overnight patrol. Apparently, she had shared with him the scary moment that prompted the change to the wall.

“Are you okay?” The words rush out as you move around him to help push the large structure back onto it’s base. He sighs as he stands, knees cracking from the added weight of the wood against him as he tensed and braced against it. When he did, your eyes rove over him to ensure he really was okay. Then the bump on his forehead catches your attention as he looks over to you. It’s red and slightly swollen.

You see the small scrape on his cheek, blood beading up along the thin lines.

“Damn thing just shifted as I was adjusting the line up. ‘m okay, promise.”

But you close in on him, hands cupping his face as you pull it down to you, brushing your lips lightly against the bump as his hands wrap around your waist. Shifting down, you kiss just below the thin scrapes, not wanting to pull at them or irritate them further before reaching for a kerchief from your back pocket and dabbing lightly at the blood. Pulling back to peer into his eyes, you see the almost shy way he’s looking from you to the shelving unit.

“There,” You press your lips to his next, his eyes fluttering shut at the swipe of your tongue against his plush bottom one. He swallows the sound that bursts from your chest as he pulls you close. He tastes like the coffee you had smelled when you first walked through the front door. Humming out an, “All better.”

His grin is bright, the dimple in his right cheek fluttering your stomach as you catch sight of it hidden in his scruff.

“All better.” He parrots before shifting you both so your back is to the wall he had been working on installing the shelving unit against. “But you ain’t supposed to be home yet. Your present isn’t ready.”

“Present? I didn’t ask for anything, Joel Miller.” You crane your head around to try and look at what he was doing, too concerned with him to see what he had been trying to do exactly. But he brought a hand up from your waist to grip at your chin and he halted the movement. “And aren’t you supposed to be on patrol with Ellie?”

“Traded off with Tommy, told ‘im I had something important to do today.”

“Joel…”

“Nu-uh. You’ll have to wait to see it, birthday girl. Macon is due for pick up in an hour,” You huff a laugh as he bends his knees to lift your weight and toss it over his wide shoulder. Hair falling loose around your face, it’s impossible to see anything as he struts out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom. He sets you down atop the vanity counter with a light of his own at how disheveled your hair got.

“So pretty,” He muses quietly as he brushes it from your face and tucks it behind an ear. Heat creeps up your face, still not used to such open compliments from the handsome man. Stepping away for a moment, he fiddles with the shower knobs to get the water going, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature that you prefer. He helps you to disrobe, trailing his lips over every inch of your upper body as it becomes exposed before ushering you into the stall with a parting kiss. We’ll head over to Tommy’s for an early dinner once I’m finished up here, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

Dinner was a small affair, Ellie using one of the recipe cards you had made for Joel to attempt her hand at a casserole and a cake. The noodles were far too mushy and the cheese was a little too crusted, but you wouldn’t trade her bright smile as she set it down with a flourish for anything in the world. The cake was a touch better, the frosting smooth in most places and the perfect amount of sweetness to counteract the rich chocolate she had been adventurous in trying out. Two candles were lit atop it after meal, her smile infectious as you thanked her and reached to squeeze her smaller frame to yours.

“Alright, alright. Now make a wish and blow them out!” She was excited, Macon imitating her as he bounced in your lap.

“Macon, want to help me?” He gurgled his agreement, barely able to hold his head up and only for short bursts of time. But he pursed his lips as you leaned closer to the cake and blew. He made a sputtering sound, bubbles forming at the corners of his lips and everyone laughed as he seemed shocked at the smoke lifting from the now spent candles. You looked over to Joel, catching the soft smile he was sporting as he watched on.

But you were both in your home now, having left at the assurance of dinner being cleaned up and the kitchen tidied. You were standing in the back room, taking in the sight of what he had been working on all day. Floor to ceiling shelves had been installed on the wall that was shared with the kitchen on the other side. The supplies you kept for the harvest from the olive trees aesthetically placed in the cubbies.

“Joel, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.” You felt the heat of him as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. His deep voice was so close as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. He guided you out of the room and across the hall to your bedroom, waddling his frame around yours as he refused to let go.

“What’d you wish for, sweetheart?” He whispered, as if it was a secret he was hoping to be privy to, your breath hitched as you turned in his arms and snaked your hands around his neck.

“Nothin’, just…for everything to keep on the way it has been. I’ve got everything I need.” You leaned up and kissed him, his hands tightened around your waist, and you giggled as he dipped you a little with his enthusiasm. You could feel his own smile as his lips moved against yours and you breathed out one last laugh before pivoting your bodies toward the bed. He let you, so willing underneath your touch.

The next morning you both rise early before the sun, helping each other dress and then walk hand in hand toward the stables, boots crunching over the thin ice that had formed overnight. Just as you lead Lowry through the gates, Joel astride is own horse, he turns to you with a lopsided grin.

Your eyes trail over him, landing on the worn fabric of his back pocket, the spiral top of his notepad tucked securely inside. It turns out the faded patch was your business after all and you smile at him in return as he speaks.

“So what’s your favorite movie?”

You answer him honestly, earning a huff of slight exasperation for your answer. Turning the question on him as the sound of steady hoofbeats and soft conversation flows over the open plains of your morning route.

previous chapter || end

taglist:

@joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal

@merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag

@picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture

@joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar

@honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh

@persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

@part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel

@blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @amyispxnk @wand-erer5

dividers by the lovely: @/cafekitsune and /saradika-graphics

[wosohermoso]

Lucy Bronze - Live Stream

Warnings: Fluff?, none

Lucy and readers relationship becomes known after Lucy accidentally shows affection during a live stream.

This one is really short I am sorryyyy

It was five thirty in the evening and I had just propped up my phone ready for an instagram live. Being a content creator meant that I could indulge in my job - sometimes - from the comfort of my own home. I gathered all my ingredients on the counter as I kept a close eye on all of the followers and comments popping up on the screen.

“Hello everyone” I smile, half of my attention directed at trying to find the herbs in the cupboard above me. I was planning on cooking whilst live streaming, something I did quite often. Cooking brought me joy, and evidently brought joy to my viewers too.

Once I had gathered my ingredients, I sit myself down on the barstool - that I had taken from the other side of the kitchen - in front of the counter, to give the viewers a proper welcoming.

“Hey guys” I grin, my eyes flicking between the fair few comments that were already flying down the chat box.

[ Are you cooking?!

Hellooo

How are you y/n

Where is Lucy

What are you cooking?

Luciaaaa

Ily ]

“I’m cooking chicken wraps” I chuckle. “Quick and easy”

I scan the screen for more comments.

“Lucy should be on her way home I think. Shes been at training” I reply to the increasing amount of fans that were asking about her.

Myself and Lucy lived together. We had been living together for the past year as well as dating, but the public didn’t officially know that, although a lot of Lucy’s fans had suspicions. Being a content creator and advocate for women’s football meant that I was constantly online, and had very much noticed the edits that fans had made of the pair of us. A lot of the time I’d show Lucy and we’d giggle at them knowing that although our relationship was supposed to be private, the fans just knew.

I turn on the cooker and heat up a pan whilst chuckling at all the comments.

“Chicken, yes” I reply to someone who had re-asked what I was cooking, a lot of people answering for me in the chat box.

“I’m gonna get straight into it because I’m starving, but we can chat whilst I’m at it. Have you guys had your dinner yet?” I ask to engage with my viewers.

I begin cutting up the chicken, seasoning it with the herbs and spices that I had gathered from the cupboards before chucking it in the pan to fry off.

What have you done today

“Today-” I reply as I watch the chicken cook in the pan and recall my day. “I helped out with some promotion with the lionesses.. which will be up in a few days. And then I went to lunch with a few friends which was nice.. and now I’m just cooking dinner with you guys”

“So a busy day, but not too strenuous which is great” I laugh.

Once the chicken was cooked I throw in some peppers, add a tiny bit more seasoning and stir them all together. After a short while of speaking with my viewers I take everything out of the pan, reaching for the tortillas.

Just as I was spooning the mixture into a tortilla I hear the front door slam and a familiar pair of keys jingle through the house. I grin at the screen knowing that my viewers would be thrilled to know that Lucy was home.

[ Is that Lucy?

Where is Lucy

Dinner is served miss Bronze

LUCIAAA ]

“Hello” Lucy mumbles as her feet pad through the kitchen towards me.

“Tired?” I raise a brow and she pouts at me.

“Yeah” She huffs as she approaches me swiftly, heading straight into shot as she wraps her arms around me and gives me a small kiss on the side of the mouth. I panic slightly knowing that we were live, but not enough to show, as I carefully prize myself off of her.

“I’m live” I smile innocently, watching her head bolt in the direction of my phone.

“Oh-” She strains out, sitting down on the bar stool to look at the phone to try her very best to divert any attention on us away.

“Whats for dinner” She grins, looking knowingly at the comments as she tries to compose herself.

“Fajitas” I state, pursing my lips together at the flood of comments flying through my phone.

I continue to wrap up the fajita, handing one to Lucy as the pair of us watch the screen in bewilderment before Lucy gasps in excitement, grabbing the Fajita from my hands.

“The best thing-” She takes a bite, “about living with Y/n-” She swallows, “is that I am always fed well” She grins like a child at the screen, trying to completely ignore the comments.

The both of us look at each other. It was a knowing look. Neither of us had to say anything to know that the both of us were thinking the exact same thing. They know, no point hiding it.

Lucy places her hand on the small of my back to bring me in closer to her, my arm subconsciously draping over her seated shoulders as she brings the half eaten fajita to my mouth to let me have a bite.

“Yum.” She states placing a small peck on my jaw before lifting herself up from the stool.

[ SHIPPPPP

I knew it🤭

DID THEY KISS

WHAT😮

WHAT IS GOING ON

We were right….

Oh.. my.. god ]

“I’m gonna go take a shower, i’ll leave you to deal with all of this” She laughs as she holds onto my waist to stable herself. “Save me some” She pleads with a small smile before peering down at the live stream.

“I will see you all in a sec” She says before heading off to shower.

I sit down on the stool, reading all the comments with an embarrassed, but relived smile. Maybe people knowing about us wasn’t too bad after all, even if it did come out in ways we didn’t plan.

“She’s gone to shower” I wince at all the comments.

“Yes, she’ll be back”

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Five

Summary:

Astarion can barely contain his jealousy when he sees you and Dr. Dekarios having a friendly chat over coffee, and you're really not a fan of how it makes you feel.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.9k Tags/Warnings: possessive Astarion, jealous Astarion, praise kink, rough sex, library sex, I might get too deep in the weeds about theatre in this one, sorry

Y'all we are well on our way to a pivotal chapter. I'm not sure if you're ready for it. I'm not sure if I'm ready for it. But for now, have some flirty banter and jealous library sex.

Both Gale and Astarion screenshots provided by our queen, @zipzoomzaria.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“Ahh, we've given up on life then, have we?”

Astarion's voice pierces through the din of students shuffling and chatting as they settle for class. You're just passing through the hall on your way to get a much needed pick-me-up from the student union.

“C’mon Ank-yunín, it's college, we all wear PJs. Ain't no one cares how you dress.” Mol’s signature twang rises above the rest, and you can't tell if she’s deliberately mispronouncing his name or not. Knowing her, she probably is.

“Hells, Mol, are you positive you're registered for a 300 level English course?” The sneer in his voice is evident.

You poke your head in the doorway to watch him banter with his students before class. He is, in fact, particularly well-dressed today - and gods does he look good. He’s wearing a crisp and well-tailored white suit dressed down with a black v-neck tee shirt. He stands with one hand in his pocket and the other lightly sifting through papers on his desk. He's looking over his glasses with disdain at Mol and immediately your breath catches in your throat.

His eyes flick up towards you and your cheeks flush when you realize you've been caught. His lips curl into a mischievous smile.

“Oh Professor,” he calls to you, voice dripping with honey, “I was so hoping you'd stop by. We’re discussing iambic pentameter today, care to give an impromptu lecture?”

“Oh!” He's completely caught you off-guard and your heart speeds up. His smug little grin reveals he knows exactly what he’s doing. Not wanting to get roped into something you’re unprepared for, you hesitate, “Well, I'm not sure, I'm a bit busy…”

“Nonsense! You're not on your way to a class, are you?” He plants his hands on his desk and leans forward, grinning devilishly. You're not sure if he’s memorized your teaching schedule, but you wouldn't put it past him.

“I'm not, no,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

“C’mon miss, you know loads about this stuff,” Mol chirps enthusiastically, leaning dangerously on the back of her chair. “Way more than Ank-yunín over here.” She jabs her thumb at him and rolls her eyes.

“I suppose… I have time for a quick overview,” you say reluctantly, and Astarion’s smile grows. You walk into the classroom and glare at him as soon as your face is out of view of the students.

“That heart of yours keeps giving you away,” he murmurs when you're close enough to hear. You ignore him and turn to face the class.

“Oh, Thaniel, I didn’t know you were in this class!” you say when you recognize your student’s face. “That's a lot of Shakespeare for one semester, isn't it?” The class titters and your face grows hot.

“Unfortunately for you, that's Thaniel’s twin, Oliver,” Astarion says behind you. You clench your jaw in embarrassment.

“I'm so sorry, I didn-”

“No big, it happens a lot,” he waves you off. His energy is so much more confident than the timid kid in your Classical Acting class. You feel even sillier for not having realized it.

“So how much have you all actually done on Shakespeare's meter?” You shift your glance between Astarion and the class, trying to assess exactly what he’s pulled you into.

“None at all, they're a blank canvas,” he smirks, enjoying your discomfort far too much. He sits on the edge of his desk and folds his arms, watching you closely.

Fine. He thinks he can fluster you? You've taught iambic pentameter a thousand times, you can practically teach this lesson in your sleep.

“Fantastic, so I won't need to undo any of Dr. Ancunín's mediocre teaching,” you return his smug grin, a silent declaration of two can play at this game. “How many of you have heard the phrase iambic pentameter?”

A smattering of hands go up in the air. You nod and turn towards the white board. Not a single marker in sight. You turn to Astarion with a blank stare.

“Where the fuck are your white board markers.” It’s less of a question and more of an accusatory statement. He shrugs noncommittally.

“I don't need to write things down, that's what they do,” he says, jerking his head towards the students. You roll your eyes and shove him off the desk so you can rifle through the drawers.

“Does anyone know the first line of the prologue for Romeo and Juliet?” you ask once you've procured a marker.

“Two households both alike in dignity!” A redheaded girl calls out enthusiastically. You nod and write the line on the board.

“Awesome! What’s your name?” you ask.

“Yenna,” she states with a beam of pride that you’re showing interest in her. You feel like you can tell everything about her from this small exchange.

“Any chance you know the next one, Yenna?”

“No, that's all I've got.” She frowns a little, clearly wishing she could show off more.

“That's okay, let's talk about the first four lines.” You turn and write the next three lines of the prologue.

“Dang, d’you have the whole thing memorized?” Another student pipes up, a Tiefling with indigo locs.

“Well, I've been in R&J a few times, and I've seen it many more,” you shrug casually, and his eyes light up.

“No way, didja have to learn the whole thing?” he asks, just as another student chimes in, “Who did you play?”

“No, just my lines, but I heard the prologue a lot,” you say to the first kid, then turn to the second, “I played Juliet in high school, and a few years back I played Mercutio over at the Rosewood.”

Several students start to ask questions at once, and you hold up your hand to stop them.

“Woah woah, slow down, I'm only one person. Gods, do you ever talk to them about how these plays are actually performed and not just words in some dusty old book?” you ask Astarion incredulously.

“Who do you think Dr. Ancunín would play in Romeo and Juliet?” Oliver calls out from the back. 

“I think Dr. Ancunín would make an excellent Tybalt.” You flash him a coy smile. “Just the right amount of obnoxious.”

“Doesn't Tybalt kill Mercutio?” Yenna asks. Astarion looks at you more salaciously than he should in front of students.

“I'm certain I could offer a little death,” he croons in a low voice, sparking a flame deep in your core. You press your lips together, trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Aaaaaanyway,” you say quickly, moving the conversation back to the text and away from his flirtatious banter. 

You’re surprised by how much fun you have teaching Astarion's class. His students are lively and eager participants, if not to actually comment on the subject then at least to try to get in a jab at his expense. By the end of the three hour lecture, most of them have completed the scansion for the entire prologue on their own.

“Alright, we’ll meet again in a tenday,” Astarion calls over the sounds of everyone putting their books and papers back into their bags. “Don't forget that your soliloquy explication is due next class. And don't bother asking for an extension because you know I won't grant it.”

“I hope you enjoyed using me to slack off during your class,” you say to him quietly as the last few students trickle out. He lets out a throaty laugh.

“I do enjoy using you, it's true,” he hums, and you involuntarily press your thighs together. “Although you cannot deny that you had fun.”

“With you? Always.” You toss your hair and grab your bag. “Now I'm headed over to the student union for coffee because teaching your class wore me out.”

“Hmm, I would've thought you had a little more stamina than that.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips and your ears grow pink. You start to move away to leave but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into a heated kiss. You need to force yourself to push him away.

“Astarion!” You hiss, panting and lightheaded. You whip your head around to see if any students are left, but the room is empty.

“Just wanted to remind you who’s in charge here,” he says with a haughty grin and you roll your eyes.

“Goodbye,” you say pointedly and make your escape, but not before he gives your ass a cheeky little pinch.

***

Of course the student union is swamped when you get there. The long line to the little university cafe is moving agonizingly slowly. The work-study students behind the counter are taking orders as fast as they can, but it's clear they don't have enough coverage for the between-class times.

After waiting for about ten minutes, you’re considering getting coffee off campus when you see Dr. Dekarios crossing the union. Reminded of the conversation he had with Astarion while you were trapped under his desk, you call out to him. He turns and there's a vague note of recognition in his wave.

You glance at the four people in front of you still and the half dozen or so orders hanging off the espresso machine. Deciding it's not worth the continued wait, you bound over to the arcana professor.

“Dr. Dekarios, I'm so glad I caught you. I wanted to chat about your theory regarding bardic magic and the humors,” you say excitedly. His face lights up and then falls confused.

“Oh, I hadn't told you about that, how did you-” he begins and your stomach drops when you remember that you were not technically a part of that conversation.

“Uh, Astar- Dr. Ancunín mentioned that you were looking for me,” you say quickly and your eyeballs feel like they're about to melt out of your head. Not wanting either of you to spend too much time remembering the state he caught you in with Astarion, you continue.

“Tell me a little more about this theory, because I think it tracks, but I want to hear the basis of it first.”

“Oh, but you were just about to get some coffee, weren't you? I feel terrible that you stepped out of line on my behalf,” Dekarios frowns, peering over your shoulder at the cafe behind you. It’s beginning to peter out as the time approaches the beginning of classes.

“No worries, I should probably save my money anyway,” you say with a shrug.

“Well then allow me to treat you at least,” he implores, and he beckons you back into line. 

The wait is significantly shorter, and when you approach the counter he says, “Hello, good afternoon. I'll have a small black tea with just a splash of that vanilla almond milk you know I love so much,” he says with a secretive chuckle and the poor work-study behind the counter plasters a pained smile on their face. Dekarios then turns to you and says, “And for the young lady?”

“I'll have a large iced double dirty chai with oat milk, thanks.” The student barista turns to start making the drinks and Dekarios’ brows pop above his wire frames.

“Goodness, that amount of caffeine this late in the afternoon would keep me up all night,” he laughs.

“The caffeine barely impacts me anymore, at this point I just need it to get through a rehearsal,” you respond with a polite joviality. 

The two of you sit at a small table in the student union to talk. For a pretentious arcana professor, he’s surprisingly easy to get along with.

“Walk me through your thought process, because I think you're onto something here, but I need a little bit more,” you ask, taking a sip of your chai. Dekarios gestures wildly while he speaks, clearly very enthusiastic about the subject.

“Well, we know that Shakespeare was responsible for a massive shift in how playwrights and audiences alike thought of characters, yes? From a balance or imbalance of humors to something more complex?”

“I mean, he wasn't solely responsible, it was more or less an inevitable cultural and technological shift, but yes, he was definitely at the forefront of that shift.”

“Oh fascinating,” he murmurs as his eyes grow wide and he leans forward on his elbows. “So do you think the advancement from from the College of Swords to the College of Lore was inevitable? Do you think they were related?”

“Related, yes, but not in the way you're suggesting, I think,” you muse, absentmindedly pressing your drink to your lips. As you're contemplating your next thought, you're startled by a hand on your shoulder. You look up and Astarion is looking down his nose at you, eyes gleaming.

“Dr. Ancunín, what a surprise!” you say in a strained voice, trying to decipher his body language. “Thank you so much for telling me about Dr. Dekarios’ theory regarding bardic magic, it's really a fascinating subject.” You lean heavily on the lie, although truth be told, all three of you know that you were in his office that day.

“Of course, darling, I thought you might find it intriguing.” As he speaks, he runs his fingers through the hair at the base of your neck, and the shiver that runs down your spine isn't quelled by the confusion blooming in the back of your mind. Why is he being so affectionate? And in public, no less?

He shifts his gaze to Dekarios and his eyes narrow.

“Dr. Dekarios, how are you faring? Well, I hope?” There's a slight venom in Astarion’s voice. Is he… jealous? The realization fills you with conflicting feelings of annoyance and arousal.

You can practically feel Shadowheart’s judgemental stare down from across campus. Possessiveness is not cute.

And yet…

There’s a thrill in the grip of his hand on your neck, the ice in his voice as he speaks to Dekarios, the flagrant PDA almost as if to say “This one’s mine.”

Maybe a conversation for your therapist later.

“Well, I'll leave you to it,” Astarion’s sharp voice breaks through your thoughts and you bring yourself back to the conversation. “Dr. Dekarios, always a pleasure. Darling,” his voice drops into a register that fills you with an intense heat. He pulls your chin up with his finger and plants a kiss on your lips that’s borderline inappropriate for being in public. It's certainly inappropriate for your workplace, but your head is too fuzzy to protest.

“I'll see you later,” he breathes and walks off. At minimum, he's left you flustered and embarrassed, but far worse than that, you are now insatiably horny. You press your legs together for some relief as you shake your head to clear it.

“I'm sorry,” you say to Dekarios, your cheeks unbearably hot. “I don't know why-”

“No worries at all,” he says, holding up a hand. “Far be it from me to get in the way of young love.”

“I don't know if I'd go so far to say love,” you murmur into your drink, but he seems to not hear you, or at least he pretends not to.

“Anyway, where were we?” Your voice returns to full volume as you try to expel the x-rated thoughts running through your head.

Your conversation with Dekarios - well, Gale, he insists - is delightful, in spite of Astarion’s peacocking. He's wonderfully knowledgeable about bardic magic, something you've always wanted to learn more about but struggle to find the time. Meanwhile, you're able to provide the cultural context and connections that are completely unfamiliar to him.

You eventually realize just how much you've lost track of the time.

“Oh gods, I need to go, I have to grab something from the library before it closes,” you say in a rush, picking up your bag.

“My apologies! I've monopolized your time, completely unthinkingly.”

“No worries, I enjoyed our conversation. And I will definitely check out that podcast that you mentioned. Remind me of the name?” You throw away your and Gale’s long empty cups.

“If Books Could Kill. Wonderfully informative, and the hosts are enchanting and amusing.”

You nod and mentally file it away for later.

“Great, yeah, I'll look into it. Thank you for a lovely conversation, we’ll chat again soon.” You wave as you scurry in the direction of the library.

***

You make it to the library about 20 minutes before it closes. You dash up to the third floor and make a beeline for the 800s.

You're scanning through the book titles when suddenly you smell that telltale combination of bergamot and rosemary. Before you can move, he’s pressed into your back, his hands tight on your waist and lips on your neck. You exhale in a long shudder and bite your knuckle to stay quiet.

“Astarion, what the fuck?” you accuse in a sharp whisper. You're fairly certain the floor is empty this late in the day, but you'd rather not take your chances. You grip the shelf as he pushes you into it and try desperately to suppress the moan threatening to tear from your throat. He breaks from his assault on your neck just long enough to put his lips to your ear.

“I don't like the way he looked at you,” he growls and reaches his hand around to grab your breast. You gasp and find yourself grinding into him despite your best judgment. It's like all logic evaporates when you're around him.

“I can talk to whoever I want, Astar- ah-” you manage to keep your voice steady until his other hand slips beneath the waistband of your skirt. You can feel his length along the cleft of your ass and you catch the whimper on your tongue.

“Of course you can, I wouldn't dream of stopping you.” His voice is a honeyed poison and his hand continues its journey south, sliding through the hair on your mound. “Just as I can be jealous of whomever I please.” He slips a finger into your folds and your hips buck into his hand.

“We- hnng- we can't do this here,” you pant even as your grip on his arm tightens, pulling him more into you.

“We can if you're quiet,” he breathes and runs a slick finger over your clit. You let out a high-pitched squeak that may have been mistaken for a mouse by someone wearing headphones. Maybe. He roughly pulls away and spins you around so your back is pressing into the shelves behind you. He hikes up your skirt and pushes his growing bulge into your core. He swallows your moan with a heated kiss and you grasp at the collar of his clean white suit. Which, given the way he’s grinding against your now drenched panties, might not be clean for much longer.

“I've half a mind to bite you just so everyone knows you're mine,” he hisses into your neck and pulls your leg around his waist, giving him unfettered access to your cunt. You let out a cry and he slaps a hand over your mouth, turning the cry into a soft grunt. Your pussy clenches in anticipation, waiting to be filled by him.

“But we don't need them to catch us to find out, do we?” he snarls and you let out another muffled moan. Every controlling grab, every fierce growl, every possessive word turns you on more. You want to let yourself succumb, be consumed by him. A quiet voice in the back of your head tells you “No, this is wrong, he’s being an asshole, don't reward that behavior.” But there is a much, much louder voice that works its way out of your throat.

“Ffkkk, msstrnn.” His palm catches his name from your lips. One of your hands grips onto the shelf above you while the other slides down his front and fumbles awkwardly with his belt. His hand leaves your leg to help you unbuckle his pants and your ankle hooks around his thigh.

His cock springs free and your breath hitches to see its pink bulbous tip already leaking precum. Your voice gets high and needy, your breath coming out sharply through your nose. He grinds his now bare erection into the wet fabric covering your pussy and presses his cheek to yours so his lips are right on your ear.

“Would you like that? Do you want me to claim you as mine? Mark you so everyone knows who you belong to?” With every word you gasp and twist against him more wantonly, rolling your hips to increase the friction.

“Say it,” he rasps and pulls his hand away from your mouth. You gasp and the words tumble out of you in a breathy whisper.

“Yes, gods yes. Mark me. Make me yours,” you plea, gripping the shelves even more firmly so you can arch into him, indifferent to the pain of the books digging into your back.

“Good girl,” he grunts and clamps his hand back over your mouth just in time to catch the loud whine that his praise elicited. He yanks your panties aside and sinks into you, and your slick lets him easily slide up to the hilt. You tilt your pelvis forward to feel even more of him inside you.

He pounds into you with short rhythmic strokes, making the books on the shelves behind you shake. Each thrust lifts you off your toes slightly, your one foot stretched to stay on the floor while the other remains firmly wrapped around his hip.

His breathing grows ragged with the effort, his breath warm and wet on your shoulder. You tangle your hands into his hair, tugging on his curls as you guide his lips to your neck. He sinks his teeth into the marks that have been taking longer and longer to heal. He drinks deeply as you keen into his hand, and it doesn't take long for your blood to reach his cock, making it throb inside you. 

The increase of sensation sends you rushing to the edge. Your arm curls tighter around his neck as the uneven pace of your jagged panting increases. You feel the familiar tightening in your core and your toes curl as heat and pleasure flood your body. You bite down on his hand as you're on the precipice and he unlatches from your neck. His feral growl, bloody mouth, and disheveled hair falling into his glasses send the orgasm rocketing through your body, and you feel him follow moments after. His dick pulses with seed and when he pulls out, you can feel it dripping down your leg.

The only sound in the library is the two of you trying to catch your breath, until, horrified, you hear a timid voice from a few stacks down.

“Um… the library will be closing in five minutes, please bring your books to the checkout counter.” You can hear little feet shuffle away followed by the door to the stairwell opening and slamming shut. You're silent for a moment longer before you both break into a fit of giggles.

***

You sit in your car in the university parking lot as you start and erase about a hundred different texts to Shadowheart. You're so conflicted that you don't even know what advice to ask for.

You finally settle on a simple, “I'm coming to your place. Open a bottle.”

[itsmarsss]

Maybe. [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

(~from the vault~)

Miguel Diaz is annoying. That you are convinced of. Sure, you've never really talked to him, but still, you live a very happy life that way. But then one day he gets wasted at a party and you end up with the unfortunate job of driving him home. Sounds like just your luck.

Warnings: making out, little jokes about sex, some sexual tension there. enemies to lovers except the enemies part is completely one-sided

Word count: 9,567

[...]

Miguel Diaz wasn’t the kind of guy to have a lot of enemies.

He had, in fact, become fairly popular after he started doing karate and won a fight against West Valley’s biggest bully, surpassing the loser label that had immediately been slapped onto him when he’d moved into the neighborhood.

He was the typical nice guy who pretty much everyone seemed to like. Good at school, the type who wouldn’t hesitate to help you with schoolwork if you asked him to. Always nice to everyone, greeting and smiling at random people he’d never talked to before in the hallways as if they were one of his friends.

But, to you, Miguel Diaz was just irritating.

Everything about him somehow made you mad. He was just so apparently perfect and all of a sudden people couldn’t seem to shut up about him and that was sure to make you nothing short of annoyed. Yeah, you supposed he did seem nice, but you were positive it was impossible that all that sudden praising hadn’t gotten to his head.

You were convinced he was a huge asshole deep down, just a loser who got lucky enough. And though you had no real evidence to back that up, yet to see this facade of his that you convinced yourself of, you still couldn’t get yourself to like him.

Whatever. You could survive a life without him in it.

It didn’t help, though, that your best friend was friends with him. Did karate with him, too. Aisha absolutely loved Miguel, and seemed to make sure to mention it to you all the time.

They were genuinely good friends, and so you supposed you did feel a little bad when you dragged her to sit with you and away from her Cobra Kai friends during lunch, but you were positive that if you tried to sit with them you’d end up saying some not very nice things, and you weren’t up for drama at the moment.

But she kept bugging you about it, insistently so, and god, could Aisha be persistent when she wanted to. So one day, to shut her up about it mostly, you agreed to go with her and her friends to a party at the canyon.

You told her you’d try to be nice, but made a promise to yourself to keep distance from a certain someone specifically. Maybe then you’d be able to enjoy the night and- hey- maybe even the others’ company.

Maybe.

[. . .]

“Don’t just stand there!” Aisha laughed.

“Since when are you a party person?”

“Since I realized I could throw them!”

Wait, what? “Wait, this is your party?”

“Well it’s a Cobra Kai party…”

Alright, so you didn’t want to give it to them. Cobra Kai as a whole annoyed you to no end, as it seemed to be a breeding factory for nerds turned into stuck-up assholes, but you couldn’t deny you were grateful for how much it helped Aisha. The Aisha you knew a few months prior would have never had the guts to throw a party, let alone assume people would attend it.

So, fair enough. “Cool!” “Hey Aisha come watch me do a keg stand!” Some guy you’d seen walking around with the Cobra Kai guys before yelled from the other side of the place.

Aisha glanced back at you, seemingly a bit torn about leaving you. “Do you wanna come?”

“No it’s fine. I think I’m gonna grab something to drink. Now go!” You assured her, smiling. You wanted her to enjoy having other friends.

You barely had time to pick yourself up a drink before you weren’t alone anymore.

“Y/N!” A guy wearing a graphic t-shirt that quite literally read ‘📍your mom’ under a flower pattern button-up called your name, walking towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, as you were completely sure you’d never talked to him before.

You didn’t know how to feel about not being so invisible anymore, all by association with Aisha. It definitely felt a little weird. “Um. Have we- have we met? Sorry.”

“Not really. But Aisha talks about you a lot. I’m Demetri, by the way,” he held out his hand, and you shook it. What teenager shakes hands these days?

“Well, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know,” he laughed. “So, you want me to show you everyone?”

“Uh. Okay. Sure. Yeah. That'd be cool."

“So, that’s Eli-” He pointed at the guy who sported a blue-dyed mohawk, and was currently rather busy making out with someone you actually knew- Moon. You didn’t exactly like Moon, but you supposed she did seem to be more of an out-of-touch person than a mean one, compared to her friends. “Uh yeah, who’s apparently making out with Moon. Somehow. He likes to be called Hawk now but I think that’s pretty ridiculous.”

“It is.”

“Yeah well he used to uh- some people used to call him Lip. ‘Cause he has a scar.”

“That’s him?” Said boy pulled away from Moon, and you took a good look at him. It was him. You always thought he looked cute, but you had to admit now he looked kind of hot.

You did had to give Cobra Kai some credit in that area too.

“Yeah.” Demetri turned you around. “Those two walking down are Robby and Samantha and-” He seemed to realize something, suddenly looking worried.

“Something wrong?”

“No uh. I don’t really talk to them. That,” he spun you around one last time, “Is Miguel. But you must know him already.”

“Yeah I’ve heard of him.” He was downing a beer bottle at rapid speed. “He’s really getting shitfaced,” you pointed out.

Demetri still looked worried, nervous. “Yeah uh, Sam’s his girlfriend.”

“The one walking down the hill?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“He thinks she’s cheating on him. With Robby.”

You looked at the two again, laughing, their fingers intertwined. You could be taking it wrong, of course, but it did look like they were together in some way. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to feel a little jealous of a scene like that at least. “Oh that sucks.”

You weren’t heartless, okay? Just because you didn’t like the guy didn’t mean you wanted him to get cheated on. If that’s what was even happening.

“We should go-” Demetri grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you with him on Miguel’s direction.

“What? No-” You weren’t heartless, but you weren’t his friend either. What were you going to do, comfort him? Let him cry on your shoulder? Come on now.

But you didn’t even have the time to protest. You were already there, and it seemed that so were the Samantha girl and the Robby guy , and Miguel didn’t look pleased.

Well, he was laughing, but it was definitely not a good kind of laugh.

“So I don’t have to worry, right? Well that’s funny.”

Miguel was wasted.

He tried to pick up a fight, and ended up hitting his own girlfriend on accident, which had, expectedly, resulted in her breaking up with him on the spot. Now you were sitting beside him, and you didn’t know what to do.

Wouldn’t it be best if you just left? Clearly you shouldn’t be here, his actual friends should be dealing with this. But then again it would be too shitty to leave Aisha on her own. You had agreed to be her designated driver after all.

Everyone was quiet, apparently not knowing what to say. God, someone really should bring the guy home.

Hawk spoke up, finally, voicing those same thoughts. “Um, dude, you should go home.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re really drunk, man, just go home.”

“I walked here.”

“Shit. Right. Do any of you have a car?” Demetri asked no one in particular.

“Oh Aisha does. Well it’s her dad’s,” you pointed out, not really thinking it through.

Aisha’s look shot up. “But-” You could see she was conflicted. You could understand. Finally people wanted her around, and she wanted to stay a little longer for that.

You could not believe you were about to do this.

“I’m such a good friend,” you muttered, standing up, and Aisha looked at you, puzzled. You held your hand out. "Gimme the keys."

"What-"

"Do it before I change my mind."

She did as you said, placing it on your hand. You took another look at Miguel, then at Hawk. "Can you help him?"

Hawk immediately stood up to do so, and you made your way to Aisha's car, leaving both Aisha and Demetri behind with a promise you'd come back later to drive them all home too.

"Do you know where he lives?"

Hawk was done shoving a now barely conscious Miguel into the passenger's seat, buckling the seatbelt for him, which you took notice of. He seemed to care a lot about Miguel. "Yeah I'll- can you give me your number? I'll forward it."

"Sure."

[. . .]

"Where are we going?" At some point along the way Miguel seemed to have gained a little consciousness back, his eyes widening as he took bearing of his surroundings. You could understand why. He was in a random car going who-knows-where with a kind of random person who hated him. Well he didn’t really know about that last part, but still.

"I'm taking you home."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, my mom can't see me like this."

"What?"

"I can't go home like this you don't get it-"

"But where-"

"She's been so proud of me lately, I-" Was he… crying? So he was an emotional drunk. Miguel Diaz, a crier. Who would've thought.

"Well where the fuck am I supposed to take you?"

"I- sensei- no he lives next door you can't-"

"Diaz I'm gonna take you home. I don't care."

"Fuck."

You actually took a good look at him when you had to stop at a red light. He looked a mess. He was sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, legs shaking in anxiety.

You couldn't be this soft, right?

You sighed in annoyance, but you were doing this to yourself, really. "I'll take you to my place. But you better sober up cause you're gonna have to get in through the window."

He seemed surprised. "You'll do that?"

"Yeah don't get used to it. I'm kicking you out as soon as I wake up."

He stayed silent the whole ride, until you turned the engine off.

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath, before you opened the door to get out. You didn't reply.

You helped him out, holding him by his wrists until he got his balance back, and you both climbed through your bedroom window, which you were now thankful you'd left open.

"G’mme your phone."

“Why?”

“I’m gonna text your mom.” He unlocked it, getting the password wrong a few times before handing it to you. The texts you sent were simple.

hey mom im really tired gonna stay at demetri’s call you in the morning!

You didn’t know if trusting Miguel to be alone with his phone, in that state, especially after what had gone down at the canyon, was the smartest choice, so you took it with you, stuffing it in your back pocket.

“Okay look I still gotta get Aisha and the guys, so I'm trusting you to keep quiet." This was a bad idea. "Can you do that?" This was a terrible idea.

He nodded before plopping down on your bed. This was a horrible idea.

He was asleep in a second, and there was nothing else you could do but hope he'd stay that way as you climbed your way back out.

. . .

"Okay any of you that wanna get home get in the fucking car please," you said, not really up to stay and wait even more for them. After all, every second you were there was one more second in which a completely wasted Miguel Diaz was alone in your room, with your mom right there in hers.

All three got inside pretty quickly, and you dropped them off as fast as you could. Demetri first, then Hawk, Aisha last.

You actually got in through the door this time, so your mom would know you'd gotten home without having to go check your room. You prayed she hadn't done that already.

"Mom? You awake?"

"Yes! The party done?"

"Yeah. Had to drop some friends off, sorry I took too long."

"It's fine. Didn't Aisha pick you up though?"

"Oh yeah she left the car with me, got to be the driver for today. I’ll just pick her up tomorrow.”

"Oh okay honey!”

"Well I'm really tired. Gonna go to sleep.”

"Yeah, me too. Goodnight!"

“‘Night, Love you!”

With that, you quickly took off to your room to check on Miguel, who, surprisingly, was still asleep on your bed.

Your relief quickly washed away when you registered the fact that he was asleep… on your bed. You know, where you were supposed to sleep. Fucking great.

You considered waking him up and making him sleep on the floor. For… reasons that had everything to do with not being an asshole, and nothing to do with anything else at all, you didn’t.

You grabbed some blankets and placed them on the floor beside your bed, snatching one of your pillows from under his head. This was going to absolutely kill your spine.

You took one last look at him, and couldn’t contain a laugh at how ridiculous he looked, draped over the bed, hair disheveled, literally drooling. You’d have to change your pillowcase tomorrow.

‘Good-fucking-night, I guess.'

[. . .]

Your alarm went off at 7, as it always did on school mornings, and you jumped awake when you remembered how gross you probably were after the previous night. Miguel was still in deep sleep when you left to take a shower, but was sitting up on the bed, looking confused, when you came back. He’d apparently already taken the advil you left for him on your nightstand, as it was nowhere to be found.

“Are you- what am I doing here?”

“Drank too much. Cried like a baby when I tried to drive you home,” you shrugged. “Now hurry up, dude, or we’re gonna be late.”

“What?”

“Look we’ll talk in the car, I can’t be late for chemistry again or Mr. Henderson is gonna be up my ass about it.”

He still looked completely out of the loop, barely awake yet, but nodded, standing up and following you to the car.

“Why’d you bring me here?” He finally spoke up after a couple minutes in silence. It seemed that he was finally becoming fully aware of what was going on.

“I was actually gonna bring you home, but you started crying ‘cause you didn’t want your mom to see you drunk or whatever. So. Next best thing.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “So, uh. you’re friends with Aisha, right? She talks a lot about you-”

You cut him short. “Look, just because I let you stay over and sleep in my bed doesn’t mean we’re friends, alright? You don’t have to be friendly just ‘cause you think you owe me something.”

“Um, I was just trying to be nice-”

“I’m not an asshole, I wasn’t gonna do you like that. I’m very nice, you’re very welcome, whatever.”

“Are you- are you... mad at me?” He looked surprised- no, dumbfounded was a more fitting word to describe it.

You scoffed. In truth, you still had no idea what about him got you so irritated. It’s not like he wasn’t being nice.

Still, you couldn’t help it. “What, can you not believe there’s one person out there who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on?” Okay, so you were exaggerating. So what? Not like it was gonna make much of a difference for him.

“I don’t think anyone worships the ground I walk on.”

"Whatever, Diaz. I’m only doing this ‘cause you’re Aisha’s friend.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“About what?”

“Your girlfriend, or whatever.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, it’s fine. I was an asshole last night. Should’ve expected it. I’ll get over it.”

“Yeah. Oh Hawk’s bringing you a hoodie, by the way. So you don’t smell like alcohol at school.”

“Thank you.”

Nope. “His idea.”

He nodded. “Right.”

It wasn’t long until you pulled up into Aisha’s driveway, making your way out and around the car and opening the passenger's door to find Miguel staring at you, silently asking what you wanted.

"Move. I take shotgun when Aisha drives."

"Does that really-" He didn't bother finishing his sentence, letting out a sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out.

"Thank you," you said, making sure it didn't actually sound like you were thankful at all, before hopping in. Miguel did the same, getting in the backseat.

You quickly separated as soon as you got to school, with Miguel following Hawk to change into the hoodie he brought him, and you and Aisha getting on your way to Chemistry with Mr. Henderson.

Aisha shot you a weird look. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"You're being a total bitch to him! What happened to the person that took him home last night? Let him stay over?"

"For your information I do have empathy, you know? He was crying!”

"You still could've just taken him home," she shrugged, a smug look on her face. Jerk.

"Hey this is all on you! He left my bed reeking of beer, you owe me a big one."

"He slept in your bed?"

"And I slept on the floor, dumbass! He was passed out drunk!"

"Yeah sorry I don’t think I remember a lot of it. But you slept on the floor? That must've hurt."

"It did. So he should be very thankful."

"I... think he is. You're just not letting him thank you."

"Hey I let him thank me! But that doesn't mean we have to be friends. I'm doing pretty well without him in my life."

"Just admit he's not as bad as you thought and move on!"

"Oh fuck off. What do you want me to do next, marry him or something?"

"Hey you’re the one who’s bringing it up,” she put her hands up in surrender, as if defending herself.

"Shut up. Pay attention, Ms. Robinson!" You mocked her, turning to the projector in front of you.

[. . .]

"Yeah right like Demetri could win a fight against Hawk."

"I think he could! If he got some training." Aisha protested, laughing.”

"Oh come on have you seen the guy? I don't know what your sensei's been feeding him but he's like jacked now."

"Oh so you've been paying attention?" She raised an eyebrow in an exaggeratedly suggestive manner.

"Like I'd want something to do with a guy from Cobra Kai."

"Hey!"

"You're an exception! You are on thin ice though."

"Well I think you should give them a chance."

Of course you could see right through her. "If by them you mean Miguel's included then you can forget it."

"What is it with you and him anyway? What did he ever even do to you?

"Nothing? I don't know, he just makes me mad. You can't be that perfect and not be an asshole."

"Did you just call him perfect?"

"I was being mean about it!"

"You totally d-" She stopped mid-sentence when she noticed you weren't paying attention, your eyes focused on something right behind her. She turned around to face…

Well, speak of the devil.

"What?" You asked him dryly. What could he possibly have to talk to Aisha about right now that required interrupting your lunch?

But he was actually talking to you. "I uh- I think I left my phone at your place? I can't find it anywhere."

You mentally cursed yourself for it, remembering you'd taken it with you the night before. "Shit yeah. I was scared you'd call someone or it would ring and my mom would hear or something. I guess… You can come over to get it after school if you want."

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks." He was about to turn around and walk back to the table he was sitting at with his friends before he stopped. "Do you guys wanna like. Sit with us?"

Aisha looked at you expectantly.

"No, we're good," you replied, and he nodded, making his way back.

"Dude! Let's just go!"

"What I already have to see him after school and now you want me to spend lunch with him? No thank you."

"You're so stupid."

You stuck your middle finger out at her before going back to eating.

[. . .]

You had already told Aisha goodbye, and were about to leave when he came up to you again. “Hey! Y/n! Wait-”

You turned around to face him. He was out of breath, clearly having run all the way up to you. You quirked an eyebrow, demanding him to tell you what he wanted. This was like a 400% increase on your Miguel Diaz interaction scale and you were right about done.

“My phone.”

Oh, right. He was coming over, like, right away. That was great.

“Yeah right. I’m walking home though.”

“Yeah I’ll- I’ll walk with you.”

And what an awkward fucking walk.

“Well here it is,” you handed him the phone, and he took it, stuffing it in his back pocket.

“Alright, thanks.”

“Sure.”

“See you at school?”

Hopefully not. “I guess.”

[. . .]

“Oh I’ll- be right back!” You heard Miguel’s voice behind you as you walked through the hallway alone, on your way to bio, and made sure not to look his way, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

You had no luck with that.

“Y/n!”

You let out a defeated sigh before turning around. He was wearing a deep-red hoodie, which was something you took notice off, for some reason.

“Yes?”

“Hey I know you don’t want anything to do with me-” you nodded, agreeing, and he pursed his lips together before continuing. “-but I think uh- I think I left my socks at your place too?”

He had to be kidding, right? “What?”

“My uh- my socks.”

“You think you left your socks in my room. And you wanna go get them.”

“Well yeah.”

“Can you not survive without one pair of socks?”

“Well-”

“You know what, fine. Whatever. I’m leaving a little late today though so you’ll have to stick around.”

“Yeah sure.”

You wordlessly turned around and walked to class. It seemed that interacting with Miguel was now a daily experience. That was just such fun, huh?

. . .

You found him waiting for you by the bike racks, right by the front steps, as you exited the building. You kind of didn’t actually expect him to wait for you. I mean, he could just ask you to look for the stupid socks and bring them to him the next day. That’s certainly what you would do if you were in his shoes, as to avoid the interaction.

You had to remind yourself, though, that the hate you felt for him isn’t mutual, which only angered you further. Couldn’t he just hate you back? Be a little rude? Maybe then you wouldn’t look like a bitch for being like that towards him.

“You didn’t take that long,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. Turns out they wanna move the project up for one more week or something.”

“That’s cool.” He pulled his bike out of the rack, grabbing the handles and starting to walk with it by his side, and you followed along. You were both quiet for a couple minutes before, of course, he couldn’t help himself from talking. Did he think everyone wanted to hear him talk all the time?

A tiny part of you told you he was just trying to be nice. Okay, fine. Maybe you were being too harsh.

“What’s your deal with me?”

Yeah, no, he can perrish actually. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“It… definitely looks like it.”

“Well I don’t.” Well...

“Then why do you act like you do?”

“What, are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“I just wanna know what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything! You never seem to do anything wrong, do you?”

“What?”

“What, don’t play dumb. I don’t know what it is, okay? You just annoy me. You’re so nice to everyone and everyone just likes you so much and you don’t even have to do anything!”

“You don’t like me… because I’m nice to people. And so they like me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s how it sounded.”

“Whatever. We’re here,” you pointed out, and you made your way into your place. Not without taking notice of the sky, which was a dark grey color now, a storm forming. “Come on you can leave the bike here, looks like it’s gonna rain.”

“Yeah, I think…”

[. . .]

… So you were stuck at home with him.

This had to be a nightmare.

The clouds were quick to cover the sky right after you got inside, and you could barely see any hint of sunlight despite it still over four in the afternoon. Rain started pouring heavily quickly after, a storm suddenly forming in no time.

And so there you were. In your kitchen. Alone. Stormed in with Miguel Diaz.

This was just fantastic. Great, amazing, wonderful even!

And your annoyance was apparently visible. “Look if you’re so mad about it I can go-”

You stared at him for a couple seconds, unamused. “You wanna bike? In the middle of the storm?”

He just shrugged.

“I don’t hate you that much, you know? You can stay ‘till it’s over.” God, did you hope it would be over soon.

“See you told me you didn’t hate me at all.”

“Okay yeah you can go.”

He laughed. “Fine. I won’t push. Do you wanna do something?”

“I mean I don’t think there’s a lot to do. I guess we could watch something.”

“Yeah! That’s cool!”

“Well what do you-” you were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, and you took it out of your pocket, only to see it was your mom calling. Miguel sat back down by the counter as you picked it up.

“Honey are you okay? Are you home yet?”

“Yeah we got here just in time. Are you alright?”

“Yes, but the rain’s really bad here- wait, we? Is Aisha over?”

You took a glance at Miguel. Now how to explain that?

“Uh, actually it’s another friend.”

“Is it? Who?”

“Um his name’s Miguel? We were gonna do a- a physics project. But he rides a bike, so.”

There was a pause. “Right. Are you two gonna be okay?”

“Yeah don’t worry! We’ll just do what we need to do ‘till he can go.”

“Fine. Call me if you need anything! I’ll head home as soon as the storm clears.”

“Right. Love you!”

[. . .]

“Um does she not mind?” You were both sitting on the couch now, about 20 minutes into Thor: Ragnarok, when he said something.

You looked away from the screen. “What?”

“Y- your mom? That I’m here, I mean.”

“Oh she did sound a little- I dunno. But it’s not like she’s gonna make you go out in this weather.”

“Cool. Oh- we didn’t- I didn’t get my socks.”

You laughed at the thought of him thinking about his stupid socks the entire time you’d been watching the film. “Do those socks really matter that much to you? Oh are they too embarrassing? Do they have like little spongebobs on them or something?”

“No, I just-” he seemed to be fighting it, but was now laughing too. “No they don’t have little spongebobs on them. Just remembered it.”

“We can get it after the movie’s done.”

“Right.” He brought his attention back to the TV, but you decided to grab your phone and text Aisha.

y/n

dude youre not gonna fucking believe my luck

She replied almost instantly.

aisha

????? what happened

y/n

well miguel came over to get his socks or whatever

aisha

and???? ;))))))

y/n

this isnt a ;) situation!!! were stuck inside!!!

aisha

omg are you serious its just rain

y/n

yeah but pretty boy here rides a bike

aisha

dude you walk

y/n

irrelevant!!!!!

aisha

well what are you doing rn?

y/n

were watching thor trying not to kill him

aisha

oh shut up

y/n

he’s annoying!!!

aisha

just watch the movie and wait for the rain to stop its not that hard

y/n i've watched this like 7 times already he was just really excited to watch it

aisha

awww you're all soft for him

y/n

im going over your house to kill you

aisha

you cant bc you're stuck with miguel!! WAIT

y/n

what?

aisha

you're home alone with a cute boy and youre complaining??

y/n

hes not a cute boy!!! hes miguel!!!

aisha

whos a cute boy

y/n

you dont even like guys

aisha

im not blind??

y/n

shut up

aisha

get some!!!!

y/n

die

aisha

:))))))

You put your phone down looking at Miguel once again. He was really concentrated on whatever was going on in the movie, so you decided it was safe to stare for a little bit. He didn’t look as messy like he did that day at the party. He even-

“That hoodie looks good on you.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

You really hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You couldn’t quite figure out his expression. God, he was gonna make fun of you-

“Thanks,” was all he said in return. He was staring at you now, as if trying to figure you out. You supposed you had to give it to him- you were just as shocked at yourself to blurt that out as he seemed to be. The movie seemed to be long forgotten.

You expected some snarky remark, a cocky grin. But nothing. Was that it? He was probably controlling himself as to not laugh at your face about it, you just knew it.

You couldn’t take the embarrassment. Why did you have to make things weird? You suddenly stood up in a quick motion. “I’m gonna find us something to eat.”

Aisha’s texts must have just gotten to your head, because why else would you even say something like that? You didn’t think he looked in that hoodie. Wait, no, that’s not what you said. You said you thought the hoodie looked good on him. Whatever, you had to focus.

And then he did the worst possible thing he could have done, which was offer to go with you.

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! “Sure.” You tried to act normal. There was nothing normal about the weird tension you’d managed to create between the two of you.

It’s safe to say things were awkward. You occupied yourself with opening and looking through every single cabinet in the kitchen, even the ones where you knew there would be no food, trying desperately to find excuses to delay looking at him.

“Um are you okay?”

“Yes.” You were not. “Why?”

“You’ve been looking for something for a while. I’m not that hungry you know, you don’t have to.”

“Well I am.” You grabbed the first thing you could find, which was a chocolate bar, thankfully. At least one good thing to come out of this never-ending disastrous afternoon. “Found it.” You held it up for him to see, but made sure to avoid eye contact before making your way to the living room.

You both sat down to resume watching the movie, but there was still this weird energy around the room, one which, again, you’d gracefully created on your own, and you felt antsy. “Do you wanna go get your socks?”

“Uh, okay?”

You nodded back, turning around and making your way towards your room, knowing he’d follow you. You quickly sat down on your bed and waited for him to walk through the door.

“Hey.”

“Um I didn’t see any socks anywhere so. Feel free to look around.” You finally worked up the guts to look at him for a split second. He nodded.

[. . .]

An hour had gone by since, and the storm didn’t look like it was getting any better. You’d even passed the point of being embarrassed about what you’d said earlier- okay, maybe not completely, but still- and were just staring at the ceiling, laying on your bed, waiting for the time to pass. Miguel was sitting right beside you, and you didn’t remember the last time one of you had said a word until he broke the silence again. God this kid loves to talk doesn’t he?

“You don’t actually hate me, right?”

“Are we still on about that?”

“There’s not really anything to talk about. I don’t know anything about you.”

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I go to West Valley High. I'm stuck inside my house right now."

“Wow now I know everything there is to know, thank you,” he returned with sarcasm.

“What do you wanna know?” It had to be the peak of boredom, engaging in small talk with Miguel Diaz of all people. What was this, 21 questions?

“Well what kind of music do you like?”

“Little bit of everything I guess. Rock, pop, whatever.”

“You like 80’s rock?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. My sensei showed it to me and it’s been my favorite.”

You didn’t mean to laugh.

“What?”

“Just weird. Sensei.”

“Well that’s the word.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

“Joining Cobra Kai.”

This time you made sure to laugh loudly. “Yeah. Would be a dream come true.”

“What’s so wrong with Cobra Kai?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Diaz, Cobra Kai has helped Aisha a lot. But honestly it just seems like it recruits nerds and turns them into self-conceited jerks.”

“Um would I be one of those self-conceited jerks?”

“Sure.”

“Have I done anything to you? I don’t-”

“You haven’t. But just- everyone keeps praising you for everything. And you didn’t let it get to your head? I don’t buy it.”

“People don’t praise me for everything. I've gotten beaten up a fair amount."

“Whatever.”

“Well what’s your favorite color?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“It’s a valid question.”

“What’s yours?”

“Orange.”

“That’s lame.”

“What's yours then?”

“Y/F/C.”

“That’s lamer.”

“Very funny.” You mocked him, but realized you were actually smiling.

He opened a smile of his own. “See? I’m not that bad.”

“You’re bearable.”

“That’s progress.” There was a pause. “Well you should come to practice some day.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To see that you’re wrong! We’re like family. I’ve never had anything like that before Cobra Kai.”

“Yeah I don’t think that’ll happen. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

[. . .]

“Yes mom I know. Yes he’s still here. Of course I’m not gonna let him go out in this weather. No, are you sure? But where will you- fine. But please talk to me. Right, love you.”

“So?”

“She's gonna have to stay there until things get better.”

“What? Is it still that bad?”

“Apparently. There were like a bunch of car accidents around the buildings.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

[. . .]

“This is so fucking boring.”

“Do you have any games on your phone or something?”

“You sound like a little kid.”

“Shut up.” He totally did.

“What is it?’

“What?”

“Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you.”

“You were! Weirdo.”

There was a pause. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you think my hoodie looks good on me.”

“No?" You tried.

“Then why why’d you say it?”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“You know if you actually gave me a chance I think we could be good friends.”

“Yeah in your dreams, Diaz. I’d probably kill you.”

He actually had the nerve to laugh at you. “Yeah I don’t think you could.”

“I think I could!” You tried defending yourself, but you knew it was complete bullshit. I mean, have you seen his arms?

Not that you’d been looking!

Obviously not.

“Did you forget I literally do karate almost every single day?”

You shrugged in fake disdain. “Still think I could take you.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay.” He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You shot him a confused look. “What, prove it then!”

“No I’m not doing that.”

“So you’re admitting you can’t take me.”

You knew you couldn’t, but you also doubted he’d go too hard on you. Plus this was a matter of pride now, you couldn’t just let him have that. He knew exactly how to push your buttons to get you to do this. You immediately took his hand, standing up as well. “I said I could.”

“Alright. Come on," he challenged you, getting in a fighting stance, and you tried your best to mimic him, holding your hands in fists in front of your body. He laughed at that, reaching to change the position of your hands. “Okay this,” he said as he moved them just a little bit, “could break your thumbs.”

“Fine. That good enough, sensei?” You mocked, and the boy made a funny expression at that, but quickly snapped out of it.

“Okay, so I’m gonna try to sweep your leg, like this,” he pretended to do the motion, “and what you’re gonna do is block my leg with your right arm, like this,” he did the same with the new movement.

“This isn’t a karate lesson, just fight me!”

“Alright, whatever you say. You ready?”

You were not. “Yup.”

Okay, terrible idea.

In no time he’d done as he said, and your back was immediately pressed to the floor, with no time to even process it happening.

Still, you weren’t gonna just not get a little fun out of it. “You got lucky."

He dared to laugh at you again, before sticking out his hand for you to take. You couldn’t contain a grin as you pulled him to the floor beside you, laughing at his surprise when you were successful.

“Oh I see how it is!” He exclaimed, laughing. You were already starting to stand up, but he tackled you to the floor again, hovering over you.

“Jerk!” You punched him on the chest, playfully, but you were both laughing, despite both being extremely out of breath. You tried to catch him by surprise again, and went to flip your positions, but he was quicker, pinning you to the floor by both your wrists. It was no use then, when he was clearly stronger than you.

But then something really, really weird happened. After your laughter calmed down, it was impossible not to take notice of how the two of you looked right now.

It’s like you had to think about it a second time for the situation to actually click: he was on top of you, having you quite literally pinned under him by your wrists, practically straddling you at that point, with his knees on the floor on either side of your hips.

You looked up at him, and he was staring at your face. Intently so.

For some reason you couldn’t get yourself to look away. It lasted a ridiculously long time, the eye contact, or at least that’s what it felt like, and you were still out of breath from the play fighting, your brain trying to catch on to the situation you were in.

You could swear you saw him glance down at your lips, fueling the tension that was already inherently thick in the air between you. You immediately tried to rid yourself of the thought, as it was probably ridiculous- but then he did the last thing you’d expect him to do.

He actually leaned in.

And you did something even weirder than that: you actually let him do it.

In a second his lips were on yours, and he almost lost his balance as you got your wrists free of his grip, instinctively reaching for the back of his head, intertwining your fingers to his hair.

The adrenaline of it all was thrilling, and it was like your brain had stopped stopped working altogether. After all if you had been functioning normally you would not find yourself in this situation.

No matter. At that moment all you were really worried about was kissing him. You kissed him back, and then you did it again, and again, and again, until you had to pull away to breathe, your chest heaving up and down, as did his, and your breaths being the only sound heard around the entire house, much louder than the now muffled sound of the rain and thunder outside.

And then you made eye contact again and it seemed as what just happened downed on you, all at once.

You had just kissed Miguel Diaz.

No, much worse: you had just made out with Miguel Diaz. On your bedroom floor.

Ooooooooh, no.

Your eyes went wide and you were quick to push him away, standing up.

“Are you-”

You cut him off immediately. “I’ll be right back."

“But-”

“I’ll be right back!” You repeated yourself. “You can go uh- looking for your socks or whatever if you want.”

“Are you serious-” you made your way out of the bedroom, straight into the first room you took sight off- the bathroom. You made sure to lock the door before you sat on the floor, back pressed to the wall.

Okay, so that just happened. You just kissed Miguel Diaz. No, actually, you just kissed Miguel Diaz back. He kissed you. But then again you kissed back. But he kissed you first, which means he was attracted to you? Did that mean you were attracted to him? No, you- okay, maybe.

Shit, shit, shit.

You pulled out your phone, scrambling to find Aisha’s contact. You hesitated before sending anything, knowing she'd tease you about this until the end of time , but Miguel was right outside and you had no idea how to face him after this. Holding your breath, you pressed send.

y/n

i did something

She took a minute to reply, and you jumped when you heard the sound of the notification.

aisha

okay should i be worried

y/n

um depends

aisha

okay im definitely worried did you actually kill him

y/n

no

aisha

then what did you do did you kick him out?

y/n

also no

aisha

girl just fucking say it!!!! i dont have time for this

y/n

okay but you cant say i told you so

aisha

youre definitely worrying me

y/n

he migthve kissed me

aisha

IM SORRY WHAT WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE KISSED YOU WHAT WHAT DID YOU DO????

y/n

i,,, might have kissed him back

and we mightve made out like a little bit

aisha

YOU DID NOT ARE YOU JOKING? ILL LITERALLY MURDER YOU IF YOU ARE

y/n

why would i joke about that?????????? you think i wanted this to happen???

aisha

well clearly you did????

y/n

no!!!!!

aisha

why would you have kissed back then?????

y/n

i dont know!!!!!! reflex?????

aisha

yeah right

was it reflex to KEEP kissing him back????

im gonna call you

y/n

no hes still here!!!!!!

Your phone rang, and you were quick to decline.

y/n

hes still here! hes gonna hear us!!!

aisha

omfg what are you gonna do

y/n

die maybe?

aisha

i knew you were into him

y/n

i am not!!!! into him!!!!!! HE kissed ME!!!

aisha

and you kissed back!!!!

y/n

that doesn’t mean anything!!!!

aisha

yes it does???????

“Y/n?”

Fuck. He was right outside the bathroom door.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m great Diaz. Go look for your socks.”

“Yeah um- I found them.”

“Cool.”

“Hey it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, I shouldn’t have-”

“Yeah, you shouldn't have.”

“I mean you… kind of did kiss back.”

Silence. What could you reply to that?

“Can we not? Talk about it.”

“Uh. Fine?"

“Okay. I’m coming out then. And we can finish the movie.”

“Sure. The sky’s clearing up too so.”

“Okay.”

You unlocked the door, inhaling deeply before opening it.

[. . .]

“Why did I let you do this? This is weird!” You whispered to Aisha, making sure the others didn't hear you. You'd let her convince you to sit with her friends from Cobra Kai during lunch, claiming it was the best way for you to seem ‘chill’ about what had happened. You were immediately regretting it.

You’d agreed not to talk about what happened at your place the night before, but things were still pretty awkward with Miguel, and it was really, really visible. Hawk had been stealing small glances at you, then immediately averting his eyes to Miguel, and so you were sure Miguel had told him all about it. Sure, you'd told Aisha too, but whatever.

He was probably bragging about it or something, in typical fuckboy fashion. Or something.

“It’s literally fine! You’re seeing things.”

“I’m not seeing things! It’s literally so awkward!”

“You can't avoid him forever!”

“I don't have to sit with him at lunch either!”

[. . .]

You’d almost considered yourself lucky for not having had to see Miguel in any other instance during the rest of the day, even congratulating yourself on managing to avoid him when he, of course, approached you at the exit.

“Y/n!”

You stopped, sighing in defeat. “Yes?”

“Are we cool?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean it seems like you’re acting weird, I don't know.”

“Does it really matter to you? We're not friends, so.”

“Okay. But we- was it that bad?”

“What?”

“That I kissed you, are you that mad about it?”

Your eyes widened and you looked around, trying to see if anyone around you heard him. “I told you I didn’t wanna talk about that!”

“Well let’s just solve it so we don’t have to! I thought you wanted it too. I mean it- it seemed like you did at the moment but now I don’t know and I’m really sorry if-“

“Look I don’t know what happened okay? You don’t have to feel bad about it or anything, you didn’t read it wrong. But it was a one time thing. It I’m trying to be more friendly with you guys because of Aisha, but there’s nothing more to it. It was just a heat of the moment thing.” You turned around, already starting to walk before he had the chance to talk more.

Of course he still yelled after you. “You should go see us today!”

Okay, big change of subject. “What?”

“At the dojo. We have practice at five.”

You were the one to not get the time to say anything back this time, him hopping on his bike and getting on his way.

Well, should you?

[. . .]

“This is stupid.”

“You’re just watching!” Aisha said, trying to cheer you up. “I can’t believe I couldn’t get you to come see me but Miguel could.”

“That’s not what’s going on.”

“Right.”

“It’s not! Did I not sit with your friends at lunch today? I’m making an effort. For you.”

“And only for me.” She didn't sound like she believed it at all.

“Only for you.”

She let out a laugh, and you elbowed her arm. You got to the place, entering the door, which made a bell sound out. You couldn't help but notice the ridiculous amount of snake drawings, which was apparently the dojo’s logo, that were scattered on the walls. Despite that, the place looked decent.

You caught sight of writing on one of the walls.

“That like your mantra?”

Strike first. Strike Hard. No mercy. Very inviting.

“Something like that.”

“Not violent at all,” you pointed out.

“What's the point of karate if it’s not violent?”

“Isn't that LaRusso's whole thing? Non- violent karate?”

“Well he’s stupid, so that fits.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna-”

“QUIET!” A man you hadn’t seen walk in shouted, startling you and all the students.

“Ms. Robinson, who are we missing?”

Aisha looked around. “Hawk and Miguel, sensei.”

“Okay. They have three minutes.” He seemed to finally take notice of you. “New student?”

“Y/N’s my friend, sensei-” did they have to refer to him as sensei in every single sentence?

“Yeah I'm just here to watch-”

“What are you, a pussy?”

“Sensei!”

“I’m sorry?” You asked, dumbfounded. Okay, what was happening?

“Don’t think you can handle one class?”

“I don’t-”

“If you’re staying in my dojo, you’re participating.”

You looked at Aisha. “I mean it can’t hurt,” was all she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Are you kidding me-” At that very moment you heard the bell again, turning around to see who it was. Of course the timing was immaculate. Hawk and Miguel entered the dojo, taking their shoes off and stepping into the mat. You turned back around to face Aisha. “Do I have to take my shoes off?”

“Yeah.”

You did it quickly, before getting back to your place. Were you really about to do this? And what for? Because you couldn’t say no to a scary old man?

Because you couldn’t say no to…

Nevermind.

“Alright quiet! Fighting positions!”

Everything was happening way too fast, and you tried to keep up, trying to remember the stance Miguel had helped you with the night before. Sensei walked through the rows of kids, all dressed in those weird clothes except for you, which naturally drove his attention to you, to which he laughed. “Yeah do that and you'll leave a fight with two broken thumbs.” Right.

Just to prove your luck, Sensei Lawrence had a fantastic idea. “Diaz, you’re in charge of teaching her the first moves. I’m teaching these nerds here how to headbutt. Again.”

“Yes, sensei!”

You were accepting it, the Universe had to be having the time of its infinite life at your expense. Miguel walked up to you, sporting a smirk. “You came.”

“Because Aisha asked me to.”

“Right. Of course.” You both walked off to the side of the mat, as to not disturb the rest of the class. “Alright, fighting stance.”

You made sure to make a face before you did as he said, remembering to leave your thumbs out of your fists this time. You were not giving him the satisfaction of correcting you about that again.

“Okay, that’s good. But you gotta-” he pushed your feet further behind with his own. “Okay. Now the most simple punches you’re gonna do are the jab and the cross. You’re gonna do the jab like this-” he showed it, punching the air with his left hand, “and the cross is gonna go like this,” he did the same, with his right hand this time. “But you’re gonna punch this,” he motioned to the punching bag in front of you.

“Oh, I kinda hoped I'd get to punch you!”

He smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time for that.” He positioned himself behind the punching bag, holding it in place.

"Do I have to do the weird grunt noises too?" You messed with him.

“Just go.”

You tried you best, not really having any idea what to do.

“Okay stop.”

“What?”

He came up beside you. “Okay pay attention.” He did the movements, slowly this time. “You’re letting your hand punch down. It’s supposed to stay just in your eyesight.”

“So like this?” You tried it.

“Yeah but don’t bend your elbow. You could sprain it that way.”

“What? I don’t-”

“And you really thought you could take me?”

“Shut up. I could report you to your sensei, you know.”

“I’m the sensei right now.”

“In your dreams.”

“Come on, you can do it.” He took you by surprise as he placed a hand on your waist, pressuring it down so your legs would stay steady, and grabbed your right hand with the other one. You tried not to think too hard about it. It was a little hard focusing on what he wanted to teach you when you knew what it was like to- no. No wandering there.

He curled your fingers into a fist. “Okay so your hand will already be in a fist, right here, and then what you’re gonna do is hold it out in a straight line, you can’t let it fall down-”

[. . .]

“You can admit it, you know?”

“Admit what?”

“You liked it.”

“What?”

“Karate.” Oh. Right. Karate.

“I would never.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay. Fine. A little. But I think it definitely would have been better if I had a better teacher.”

“A better sensei, you mean,” he pressed you about it, earning an eye-roll from you.

“Whatever.”

“Are you gonna keep doing it?”

“What?”

“Are you like enrolling?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Cool.”

“Why, do you wanna see me that bad?”

He let out a laugh. “Yeah, whatever you say."

[. . .]

A couple weeks had gone by, and you had agreed to go to the movies with Aisha and her friends- well, you guessed now they were your friends too. The two of you were the first to get there, and were standing in line to get popcorn when Hawk and Miguel walked up to you. “I didn’t know you were coming,” Miguel pointed out.

“Do you not have other friends you can talk to?”

“You act like you were forced to be here.”

“I could have been!”

“I don’t think you were.”

You didn’t have a snarky reply to that.

“So sensei was talking to me about putting you in for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah cause you missed on tuesday?”

“Oh right! Stupid project.”

“Yeah. Well apparently he has stuff to do so he asked if I could help you out.”

You laughed in an exaggerated manner. “Oh there’s no way.”

“It was sensei’s idea!” Miguel defended himself.

“And it’s a bad one! No way.”

Aisha turned to you, handing you a huge popcorn for you to hold. She then handed Miguel two cups, and all of you went on your way.

“Look the dojo’s empty at three. You should be there then.” He walked past you and sat down next to Hawk.

[. . .]

“You showed up!”

“Yeah whatever.” You put your backpack down on the floor and took your shoes off, walking into the mat.

“You’re not wearing your gi,” he pointed out just to mess with you.

“You’re not wearing yours.”

“But I’m the sensei today.”

“Yeah you don’t look very sensei-like to me.”

“What would look sensei-like to you?” He got himself in fighting position as he talked, and you made sure to do the same.

“I don’t know. A little buffer, less of a pussy,” you teased him.

“Hey watch your words! We’re serious people in this dojo!” He laughed. “Alright left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross and hook, all of them three times. You ready?”

You tried to make sure you remembered the order correctly. “Is the hook before of after the cross?”

“After.”

“Right, so left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.”

“Yeah. Now go.” You did it. “Okay good! Is someone… enjoying karate?”

“Shut up.”

He smiled. “Alright I’m gonna block you this time.”

You repeated the sequence. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.

Left front kick, right round kick, jab, mat.

Mat?

“That’s not fair you were just gonna block!” You exclaimed after processing the fact that he’d just tackled you to the floor.

“You forgot to keep your guard up.”

“Whatever.” You began standing up.

“What, can’t take it?”

“Is little Miguel Diaz being mean to someone?”

“I’m just pointing out your weaknesses so you can work on them.”

“Because you’re just perfect, aren't you?”

“Do me then.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I-” he closed his eyes shut and pursed his lips together at the poor choice of words. “Do the same thing to me.”

“I don’t know, I’m starting to think you’re like into pain or something.”

“Yeah whatever you say. Come on.”

He did the sequence this time, and you blocked the movements, waiting for the chance to catch him by surprise. You did it while he was going for it the second time around, grabbing him by the wrist and attempting to pull it down, but he was quicker.

Best fighter in the Valley, after all.

In no time you were on the ground again. Fucker.

“I told you! It’s good practice though.” He was laughing at you, and held out his hand for you to take when he noticed you weren’t standing up.

You grinned. “Do you never learn?” You did the same as you'd done that one day at your house, pulling him to the floor next to you.

“Okay that was rude!”

“You practically asked for it!” You laughed like crazy as you stood up. “I can’t believe you fell for that twice!”

“Okay, fine.” He held his hand up again. “You not gonna help me?”

“Nope. I, for one, am not dumb.”

He got up. “Oh you’re gonna regret that.”

[. . .]

"Hey are you- are you doing something right now?" Miguel questioned you as he finshed turning the lights off.

"Not really. Why?"

"Do you... want to?"

"Like right now?"

"I mean I think we could both use a shower first but- later?"

"Why?"

"I'm just bored. You don't have to."

You pondered it. Aisha did have to bail on you to go to dinner with her dad. "Fine."

"What- okay."

You laughed as he finished locking the door of the dojo. "What?"

"Didn’t think you’d say yes."

"I can still change my mind."

"Yeah right. You like hanging out with me!"

"Hey don’t get too confident, I just don’t have anything else to do."

"And I don't believe you. Golf ‘n’ Stuf. In like an hour?"

"I don’t know. I might not show up," you teased.

"Yeah I'll see you there!" He yelled, content, already ahead of you on his bike.

[. . .]

“I knew it.”

You turned around where you stood, only to see Miguel behind you, a grin on his face. “You’re annoying. I’ve told you that before, right?”

“Yeah. Many times.”

“Just checking.”

“So?” Miguel held up his arm for you to lace your own with. As if. You scoffed, walking past him, leaving him to jog after you into the park.

“Okay what first?”

“Oh you’re letting me pick?” He asked you. Okay, you had to give it to him, he wasn’t as insufferable when he matched your sarcastic attitude a little bit. Or maybe he was more insufferable and you just liked to see him not be as nice.

“Yes I’m very polite.”

“Well then we’re doing mini golf.”

“Are you forty-five?”

“This place literally has golf in the name, what did you expect?” He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you along.

[. . .]

“Okay I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many tickets in my entire life,” Miguel exclaimed, holding up what looked like at least 80 tickets, all bunched up. You studied the excitement on his face. Fine, so maybe you had a little fun. Just a little. And maybe you thought he looked stupidly cute right now.

Maybe.

You walked up to the counter. He looked at your prize options. “So what do you want? We can get like 53 rings or like 72 plastic… babies? Why would anyone want 72 plastic babies?”

You let out a laugh. “I don’t know, I-” you saw it by the corner, almost hidden. It was perfect. “Ohmygod definitely that guy!” You pointed at it, and the woman behind the counter handed it to Miguel.

He held up the plush bumblebee. “He’s cute! What should we name him?”

“Um… Phillip?”

“What no! That’s so not a bee name.”

“What the hell would a bee name be?”

“Zoe?”

“Okay first off that’s so cliche. Second off, he’s a boy!”

“How would you know that?” You’d been walking for a while, and finally got outside, sitting down on a bench.

“I decided it!”

“Okay. What can we name him then?”

“Oh my God, Lucas!”

“Okay, I think I can accept Lucas.”

“You don’t have a say on my son’s name!”

“Hey he’s our son!”

“I don’t know, we’d have to take a DNA test.”

“Shit have you been cheating on me?”

“Yeah I’m sorry…” you tried to match his playfulness.

There was silence for a moment.

“You know this was actually pretty fun.”

“Yeah I was surprised.” You were teasing, but it wasn’t a lie, either.

“So you liked it? Who knew.”

“Oh shut it. It was okay.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay, whatever. Now we need to discuss Lucas’ custody situation. I’m getting dibs on weekends!” You tried to joke, but Miguel’s mind seemed to be wandering off. “Miguel? Hello?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Sorry.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just- can I tell you something?”

“Okay.”

“I have a theory. You can say I’m wrong. But you can’t get mad at me about it.”

“Okay I’m getting worried.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“Well I’ve thought about it, and I might be being a little hopeful. But I’m pretty sure you might have a crush on me.”

You laughed in disbelief. Did he really just say that to you? “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just a theory! I want you to! I’m- am I wrong?”

You didn’t reply. Because you didn’t know the answer. Did you- wait. “You want me to?”

“I- mean I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, but. It would be nice. And I know you still don’t like to talk about that one time we kissed and all but things have been pretty confusing.”

“Because you have a thing for me.”

“Okay, I get it, it's fine if you don’t-”

Maybe it was not exactly the brightest idea to do something so important so suddenly, without sparing a thought before you did. But, when you knew it, your lips were on his.

It was calmer, softer than the first time you’d done it. Miguel was the one to pull away, smiling into the kiss. He stared at you, and you were nervous. You wanted to tell yourself you didn’t know where that came from, like you’d told yourself had happened that day at your place before attempting to bottle it up. But you knew.

You didn’t realize it, but in those weeks you hung out, you got to actually know him. And at some point you must have started liking him. A few weeks was definitely enough to change your perspective on some things.

You assumed he felt the same, considering the things he said.

… but maybe you read him wrong?

“What?” You asked, insecure, when he didn’t say anything.

He grinned. “You totally have a crush on me!”

You let out a breath in relief.

Okay, yeah, maybe Miguel Diaz wasn’t that bad after all. And maybe you could get yourself used to the thought of going out with him.

Maybe.

[. . .]

A/N: edited the fuck outta this one before posting, my ideas were good but my writing was pretty shit at the time. I think I was like 16/17 when I wrote this one. shits crazy. luv yall

[azurlily]

Hi, can I get what dating Azula would include? Please

Well hii!! Sure, I got you!

Dating Azula Would Include:

Azula isn't...the nicest. She's kind in the way that she loves you, but also wouldn't hesitate to laugh at your mistakes.

Azula, to say the least, is a good lover. As long as you get over being a massive bitch sometimes. She'll laugh or snicker at some servant or pedestrian doing something stupid.

Dating Azula means being friends with Mai and Ty lee. You have no choice. Once the two girls learn about you, it's all over, this is your life now. You have no choice.

Dating Azula means you get recognized a lot, meaning people see and know who you are. Just one glance at you, and you're recognized by everyone around you.

Dating Azula means you get kisses at the randomest times of the day. You two could be walking around and she'll pin you to a wall and pull you into a deep kiss. She then prances off, acting like she didn't just kiss your lips off.

Azula is only affectionate in private or around people she trusts. She allows Mai and Ty lee to see her kissing, touching, loving you.

Azula doesn't share. By no means are you allowed near ANYONE she would consider competition. Mai and Ty lee are on that list too. She has no issues keeping you away from anyone she doesn't like.

Azula has a hard time expressing her love, with the life she has lived it's understanding. She more than likely buys you things, things she deemes worthy of your touch. So you see a dress or a peice of jewelry you like? Just ask.

Azula tries her hardest not to be a bitch when your feeling down. Dating her means you see the vulnerable side of her, she knows you'll show that side of yourself too. In her eyes seeing the real you, it's a pleasure and a bit overwhelming.

Azula gets her red lipstick all over your face when she kisses you. Make out sessions are very evident to those who pass by you. All they see are red smudges and an even redder face. Too bad she enjoys seeing you all quiet and flustered.

As your girlfriend, Azula takes care of many things for you. She knows that being in a relationship with her is hard, so she takes the workload off you. This is one of the many ways she says 'I love you' without actually saying it.

She doesn't care if her father approves of you. It doesn't matter, I mean at first it did. Now though, now she'll do anything you say. If you say it nice enough.

Azula will take you everywhere with her. She's paranoid that you might get hurt without her. So, the obvious option is to bring you with. She's so smart.

As your girlfriend, she doesn't get a little control happy. She decides who gets to give you attention, she decides what you eat, everything. Although that's just her paranoia and control complex. Dont worry, after about 5 to 6 months of dating, that's stops.

While she hates people wanting you, she loves to show you off. Oh? There's a big important banquet coming up? You're coming with.

"You look amazing, it doesn't matter what they think so hurry up. I know what I said- shut up!"

You more than likely make fun of her. For what? For her getting embarrassed by the fact that you're holding hands in public. She might not seem it, but trust me, once you two are in private. That bright blush comes out of her cheeks.

Azula gets angry when you think bad about yourself. If you're good enough for her, you are 10 times better than anyone else. That is just a fact.(in her eyes)

"Am I supposed to care? I don't care that you think your fat, you're better than any man or woman. The fact that I love you, is more than enough proof."

Aggressively loving. She gives you everything aggressively. Her love, her anger, her joy and happiness, her lust. Everything is aggressive. Thata how it should be though.(wink wink)

If you two were to ever break up, it's more than likely because of her status or controlling nature. She feels the need to prove she loves you, even if it's a bit crazy sometimes.

She'd be mad about the breakup, she'd do anything to get you back. I mean anything, she'd give you the world. Azula is more than definitely scared of losing you, not like she'll admit it.

Azula will yell, scream, fight. She'll do anything except admit she's afraid of losing you.

If you two get back together, she's even worse. Not for long though, especially if you already had a very long term relationship. She'll feel weak for letting you almost leave. She's angry, but at the same time afraid. Azula takes measures to make sure you never leave her again.

She is loving person...just ask Ty lee and Mai.

Hoped yall likes this. I'm finally getting back into writing!! I'm going to be doing as many requests as possible. I more than likely wont finish any of the yandere month challenges on time. So I'll do them when I want to and I'm getting back on requests. Have a good day/night yall!!

[xxspringmelodyxx]

The Legend~

Childe(Ajax) x F. Reader (angst)

A/n: you guys…it is 4 in the morning and I have not slept yet🥲✌️ but I hope you all enjoy this chapter and story. I really had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading! But enough of me talking, let’s get onto the reading! Thank you again and have a great day/night my lovelies🥰🥰

As I strolled down the sidewalk, anticipation bubbled within me for yet another mission with Ajax. Despite the short notice, my excitement overshadowed any inconvenience. Ajax’s enthusiasm for my company mirrored my own, filling me with a warm sense of camaraderie. I had initially planned to spend time with Jean, but when I explained the situation, she graciously understood.

She playfully teased me about Ajax, insinuating a romantic connection that wasn’t there. Despite my protests, she persisted with a knowing smirk, leaving me flustered but amused.

——

“Okay, well when you get back, you and I are going to have a girls day out.” Jean said, a smirk coming to her face.

“And…try not to have too much fun with that boyfriend of yours.” She teased, making your face heat up

“Shut up, Jean. He’s not my boyfriend…we are just friends!” You retorted.

She just chuckled in disbelief.

“Yeah, okay. Just friends…we will stick with that for now.”

——

"Now, you were just moments away from Ajax. Moments away from the man who enveloped you in warmth and joy, who effortlessly brought laughter to your lips when you needed it most. Your heart fluttered with anticipation as his familiar, comforting voice reached your ears. With a quickened pace, you approached, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of his tousled hair.

However, as you finally reached him, your joy faltered at the presence of another girl – the infamous traveler, Lumine.

"Oh, n/n! I thought I had told you... I guess I forgot in the midst of everything," Ajax said, his smile directed towards Lumine.

"Tell me what?" you inquired, a knot forming in your stomach.

"Well... I actually don't need you for this mission this week. Lumine offered to help, and I couldn't refuse. She's quite renowned around here. So, you're free to do whatever you want!" Ajax's words stung, a pang of hurt piercing your chest. Despite years of fighting alongside him, you couldn't shake the feeling of being second choice. Yet, you managed to mask your disappointment with a forced acceptance.

"O-Oh... well, alright. If you'd rather go with her, then I suppose it's an opportunity for me to rest," you replied, attempting to quell the rising jealousy within you.

Ajax's smile and pat on your shoulder did little to ease the sting. "Thanks, y/n! I knew you'd understand! I'll catch up with you another time. How about joining me on my next mission? Next week?" he proposed.

Your smile returned, though tinged with a hint of sadness. "Sure! I'd love that."

"Great! See you then! Take care, n/n!" With that, Ajax departed with Lumine, leaving you with a fading smile and a heavy heart.

As they disappeared from view, your once-wide smile faded into a solemn frown. With a soft sigh, you turned on your heel, making your way back to Jean to relay what had transpired."

*****

"He did what!?" Jean's voice rang out with fury, her fists slamming onto the table. You couldn't help but widen your eyes, taken aback by Jean's uncharacteristic outburst.

"Jean, calm down. It's really not a big deal," you attempted to reassure her, though her agitation was palpable.

"No! He stood you up! Left you in the dust to be with that girl!" Jean's frustration boiled over, her tone laced with indignation.

"Lumine," you interjected softly, trying to bring a semblance of reason to the conversation.

"I don't care what her name is! What matters is that he abandoned my best friend," Jean retorted, her frustration evident in every word.

"Jean, please. He promised we can go another time. He even suggested I join him on his next mission," you explained, hoping to quell her anger.

"And you believe him? After what he did just now?" Jean's skepticism was palpable, her doubt weighing heavily in the air.

"Well... yeah," you replied hesitantly, feeling a pang of uncertainty.

Jean scoffed, turning away from you in frustration. "He made a mistake, Jean! I'm sure he didn't mean to. He just—" you started, attempting to defend Ajax.

"No. Don't make excuses for him. He's not a child anymore. Anyone with an ounce of decency would have known better," Jean interrupted, her voice tinged with disappointment.

You sighed, watching as Jean composed herself. "Sorry... it's just... I hate seeing you hurt. You're like the sister I never had. And when someone hurts someone close to me, I just... lose it," Jean confessed, her anger subsiding into a softer tone.

"I understand, Jean... but give him another chance. I truly believe this is just a one-time thing. He won't do it again. I know it," you reassured her, offering a small smile.

Jean looked away, lost in thought for a moment. After a deep breath, she relented. "Okay. If you trust him, then I guess I should too," she conceded with a smile.

"Good. Now, enough about him. Let's go get something to eat. I'm starving!" you suggested, pulling her out of her chair.

"You read my mind," Jean replied with a giggle, the tension between you gradually dissipating as you turned your attention to more pleasant matters.

*****

I woke up with excitement once again. Today was the day! The day I get to hang out with Ajax and go on an adventure with him for the weekend! I quickly got out of bed, took a shower, and got ready.

I grabbed my sword and ran out of the house, not wasting a minute. I scurried around people, finding my way to Ajax’s and our meetup spot—a lonely little area just outside Mondstadt. It took me a good 30 minutes to get there, but I made it just on time. And there he was, waiting... but again... he was not alone.

"Hey Ajax! I’m here!" I said, my smile faltering just a bit as I, once again, saw Lumine.

“Oh… hey n/n… hey listen-“ He started, but I cut him off.

“Are you ditching me again?” My voice quieted a bit, betraying my disappointment.

He looked away from me, avoiding my saddened eyes. “Look, y/n. This is a really tough mission… and it requires someone with a lot of strength and skill-“

“Are you saying I don’t have those?” I interjected, hurt evident in my tone.

“No! Not at all… but you don’t exactly have any… abilities… visions if you will. Lumine here does,” he explained, his words feeling like a blow to my heart.

“Oh…” I could barely muster a response, my disappointment weighing heavily on me.

“Look, n/n… I just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all!” He tried to defend himself.

I looked up at him and nodded. “It’s okay, Ajax. I understand. I appreciate that you care for me that way. I’ll just see you next time. Maybe we could just hang out when you get back?” I suggested, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Well… Lumine and I were actually going to go out after our mission,” he added, crushing my hopes even further.

“Out?” I repeated, the disappointment evident in my voice.

“Yeah! You know, hang out for a bit. Show her around town and all that.”

“Oh. Okay. Well then how about the wee-“ I started, but he cut me off.

“How about I just contact you when I’m available? That way we can spend all day together! Does that sound good?” He asked, making me nod weakly.

“Y-Yeah. Sure!” I forced a smile, attempting to mask my disappointment.

He then placed his hand on my head. “Thanks for being so cooperative with me, n/n. I appreciate it.”

“Of course!” I replied, forcing cheerfulness into my tone.

“Well, we had better get going then. See ya later, n/n!” He yelled, grabbing Lumine's hand and running away.

I went back home, spending the rest of my day there. I didn’t tell Jean though. I just told her I was called on another trip that was more important.

******

As you lay in bed, tears streaming down your face, you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and inadequacy. Did Ajax really think you were too weak to fight alongside him? Despite not having a vision, you had proven yourself countless times in battle, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ajax against formidable foes. Yet, his actions spoke volumes, leaving you questioning your worth as a fighter and as a friend.

The presence of Lumine only exacerbated your turmoil. While everyone seemed enamored by her, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered whenever she was around. It was as if she held secrets, hidden behind her flawless facade. Perhaps it was just your own insecurities magnified by the situation with Ajax, but the doubt gnawed at you relentlessly.

With a heavy heart, you turned over in bed, unable to find solace in sleep. The events of the day replayed in your mind, tormenting you with thoughts of what could have been. Yet, despite the pain and uncertainty, you resolved to let it go, at least for the night. Dwelling on it further would only serve to deepen the wounds already inflicted.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to find peace amidst the chaos. Tomorrow was a new day, and with it, the possibility of clarity and resolution. For now, all you could do was surrender to the embrace of sleep, hoping that the morning would bring a sense of renewal and understanding.

*******

Months had passed since Ajax reached out to you. What’s worse is that he had been spending all of that time with Lumine. You want to speak with him? Sorry, he’s busy talking with Lumine. You want to spar with him? No chance, as he is already with Lumine. You want to hangout, even if it's just for a few minutes? No can do missy. He can’t waste any time now that he's hanging out with Lumine.

He was really getting on your nerves. He sometimes acted like you didn’t even exist to him and just straight up ignored you.

You had been so understanding with him, very fluid even.

You reached out to him today to see if he could hang out with you, but again, he denied. He said he had to babysit his little brother, who you knew very well as you had been his training teacher.

Unfortunately, as you were walking down the streets of Mondstat, you managed to see him and Lumine together…again.

The anger that simmered beneath the surface threatened to boil over as you realized Ajax had once again brushed you aside, opting to spend his time with Lumine instead.

With each rejection, each snub, Ajax's actions chipped away at your patience and understanding. How could he treat you this way after all you had been through together? The hurt and betrayal gnawed at your heart, fueling the fire of resentment that burned within you.

Finally reaching your breaking point, you confronted Ajax, your voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“Ajax!” You yelled, catching his and everyone else’s attention.

He was chuckling with Lumine, his arm wrapped around her.

Your suspicions had been confirmed about them…they had finally become a couple…just like that.

You felt hurt, angry, and sad.

When Ajax heard your voice, he turned with fear in his eyes as he realized he had been caught.

“N/n! W-What are you-“

*smack*

Everyone gasped as you slapped Ajax across the face. He looked at you with shock written all over his face

Tears were welling up in your eyes

“How could you!?”

He just stared down at you with confusion

“How could you just lie to me? Is that what you've been doing all this time? You’ve been lying to me? So you can be with her?!” You yelled as short sobs came out of your mouth.

“N/n…I-“

“Don’t ‘n/n’ me.” You interrupted

“After all these years, a girl suddenly comes in and just makes you change how you treat me!? For months, I have been nothing but understanding towards you! I even missed out on big events just to hang out with you, only to be turned down by you…even though you were the one who ‘promised’ to be with me on another occasion! Just so you could be with a girl you barely even know! She could be an enemy for all we know” You lashed out. Suddenly, Diluc and Kaeya came out to stop you. Ajax's attempts to explain fell on deaf ears as your anger boiled over, drowning out any semblance of reason. The intervention of Diluc and Kaeya was a distant echo in the chaos of your fury as you pushed them away, unwilling to be restrained.

In that moment, all you could see was the betrayal etched on Ajax's face, a painful reminder of the shattered trust that lay between you. As the crowd murmured in hushed tones around you, you stood there, raw and vulnerable, grappling with the wreckage of a friendship torn asunder.

"Get off of me!" you yelled at them, your voice trembling with rage and hurt.

They hesitated for a moment, exchanging uncertain glances, but ultimately stepped back, allowing you to confront Ajax without interference.

Ajax stood before you, shock still etched on his features, his hand reaching up to touch the reddening imprint of your slap on his cheek.

"N/n, I... I didn't mean to..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

"Don't you dare try to justify this," you spat, your voice thick with emotion. "You've been lying to me, Ajax. Sneaking around with her behind my back, making excuses, ignoring me... Do you have any idea how that feels?"

"I-I didn't want to hurt you, n/n," Ajax stammered, desperation creeping into his voice. "I just... Lumine and I, we... it's complicated."

"Complicated? Complicated doesn't give you the right to treat me like I'm nothing," you shot back, tears now streaming down your cheeks unchecked. "You've been my partner, my friend for years, and now you throw it all away for some girl you barely know?"

Ajax opened his mouth to respond.

”Lumine is not just some girl! She’s special and she has done so much for our community!” He yelled back, growing frustrated with you.

"I don't want to hear it," you said, your voice cracking with emotion. "I trusted you, Ajax. I believed in you. And you've betrayed that trust in the worst possible way."

You stopped suddenly when you heard whispers going around you.

“Is she insane? Lumine could never hurt us!”

“She must be drunk.”

“She has no rights speaking that way of Lumine when she has done nothing for us.”

The murmurs around you cut deep, each word like a dagger to your wounded heart. But it was Ajax’s words that truly shattered your world. As he approached, his glare intensified, his voice laced with anger and disdain.

“You should leave,” he spat, his tone harsh and unforgiving. “Before you make everyone else mad. The way you speak about Lumine is unforgiving and unjust! You have no right to talk about her when you don’t even know who she truly is”

Your own anger surged in response. “Me!? What about you!?” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion.

But Ajax’s response was like a final blow, leaving you reeling. “Enough! Go…you have done enough damage already. You have no right to talk about her like that, especially when she has done way more for this place than you ever have! All you can do is fight with a steel sword! You don’t even have a vision! Compared to her, you are nothing! A nobody!.”

His words pierced through you, leaving you feeling small and insignificant. The hatred in his eyes was like a knife to your heart, each word a painful reminder of the bond you thought you shared.

You looked around and saw everyone stare at you with the same look, even Diluc and Kaeya.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you felt the sting of betrayal deep within your chest. Fine. If that’s what they want, then that’s what they’ll get.

You left the vicinity, tears streaming down your face, each step heavy with the weight of disappointment and hurt. Returning home, you collapsed onto your bed, your emotions a tumultuous storm raging within you.

******

Gazing at the picture of you and Ajax, memories of happier times flooded your mind. But now, those moments felt like distant echoes of a past that could never be reclaimed. With a surge of anger, you snatched the frame and hurled it to the ground, the glass shattering into a thousand shards mirroring the brokenness of your heart.

As you stared at the ruined photograph, Ajax's words echoed in your mind like a cruel mantra. "You have no right speaking about Lumine like that… you don’t even have a vision like her. You are nothing."

Curling up into a ball, you surrendered to the overwhelming wave of sorrow, your sobs echoing in the empty room. The pain of rejection and abandonment was almost too much to bear, leaving you feeling utterly alone and powerless.

Exhausted from the emotional turmoil, you drifted into a fitful sleep on the cold floor, your dreams haunted by echoes of lost friendships and shattered illusions.

*******

The next morning dawned with a pounding headache, a harsh reminder of the pain you couldn't escape. With a groan, you struggled to rise from your makeshift bed and stumbled to the sink, seeking solace in the promise of relief.

But as you opened the door, hope flickered within you at the sight of a note lying on your doorstep. Rushing forward, you eagerly seized it, praying for a sign of reconciliation from Ajax.

However, your hopes were swiftly dashed as you read the contents of the letter, each word like a dagger to your wounded spirit. It was a scathing rebuke from an anonymous sender, condemning you for your actions and branding you an embarrassment.

With a heavy heart, you crumpled the note in your hand, the weight of shame and rejection bearing down on you once more.

You saw a couple more next to your door, all the same types of letters. All of them belittling you for being worthless compared to Lumine or Ajax.

You crumpled up the papers and tossed them into the crackling fire, watching as they turned to ash before your eyes. But one stubborn piece refused to burn, its edges kissed by the flames but remaining untouched by their destructive force. Puzzled, you tried to push it deeper into the fire, but it stubbornly resisted, glowing with a strange golden light.

Frowning, you retrieved the unburnt paper from the fire, feeling its coolness against your fingertips. As you unfolded it, you were greeted by a mysterious emblem and a cryptic message, signed "L.E."

“Meet me in the forest near the old abandoned house you used to go to. There are some things we must discuss.”

Intrigued but skeptical, you dismissed it as junk and tore it up, tossing the pieces onto your table.

However, to your astonishment, the torn paper remained intact, defying the laws of nature. You couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease creeping down your spine as you approached the inexplicable phenomenon.

With a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, you read the message again, finding new words written elegantly on the paper, urging you to stop trying to destroy it and come talk to this mysterious figure named L.E.

Skeptical yet intrigued, you chuckled to yourself at the absurdity of the situation. Were you seriously considering meeting a stranger in the forest based on a bizarre message? Despite your doubts, a nagging feeling urged you to investigate further, curiosity tugging at your resolve.

…

…

Eh, why not. You’ve got nothing else to lose.

You folded the paper and stuffed it in your shoe, making sure it didn’t escape. You grabbed a new set of clothes and changed into them, grabbing a bag and a sword just in case. You looked back at your house and sighed

“Well, this might be it, big guy. Thanks for keeping me warm and safe. Hopefully you’ll do the same for another person.” You said as you went on your way.

You weren’t sure where this was going to go, but a part of you was excited to finally get out and explore…even if it meant endangering your life.

-time skip-

After a trek of about an hour, you arrived at the designated area, encountering minimal obstacles along the way. As you waited by the old house, anticipation building with each passing minute, you scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of your mysterious correspondent.

“I see you got my note,” a feminine voice cut through the silence, startling you. Reflexively, you drew your sword, ready to confront the unseen presence behind you, only to find yourself instantly thwarted.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you beheld an older woman effortlessly holding your weapon with just two fingers.

“That’s quite enough of that, my dear. Your weapons pale in comparison to my abilities,” she declared with an air of authority.

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?” you inquired, your voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

She chuckled softly. “Straight to the point, just like your ancestor, Atlas.”

“What?” you queried, your confusion mounting. She regarded you with a quizzical expression.

“You mean to tell me you don’t know who I am?” she asked incredulously.

You shook your head at her question about your knowledge of your family history.

“Oh dear…your parents must not have taught you anything then…especially not about your family history. Well, I guess I’ll have to fill you in. But first, let’s relax with some tea. It’s quite soothing,” she suggested, conjuring a teapot out of thin air and pouring a warm, fragrant brew into a cup.

“How did you-“

“Tea first, questions later,” she interrupted gently, offering you a cup.

You hesitated, but her calm demeanor put you at ease, so you decided to take a sip. The tea was surprisingly delightful, its smooth flavor calming your nerves.

“Nice, isn’t it?” she remarked with a soft smile.

“Very…” you agreed, taking another sip.

“Now, let’s talk about why I’ve asked you here,” she continued, pouring more tea into your cup before launching into her tale.

“My name is Lady Eleanor. And I'm here to be your guide.”

“Guide? For what?” you inquired, taking another sip of the soothing tea.

“For your destiny, my dear,” she replied, her tone serious but kind.

“Destiny? What do you mean?” you asked, intrigued.

“You, my dear y/n, have a significant role to play,” she explained.

“Role? What role?” you pressed, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“You are meant to become the next guardian of a powerful force,” she revealed.

“Guardian? Of what?” you questioned, trying to grasp the magnitude of her words.

“For a unique and potent element,” she answered cryptically.

You sat in silence, absorbing her words and contemplating their implications, as she began to unravel the ancient history of your lineage and its connection to a remarkable element created thousands of years ago.

“Let me take you back to ancient times, nearly 30,000 years ago, when your ancestors forged a rare and powerful element. Among them were seven siblings, each endowed with a unique elemental vision. Scarlett wielded the fiery pyro vision, Evelyn mastered the Anemo vision, and Willow possessed the aqueous hydro vision. Ezra commanded the earthy geo vision, Axel harnessed the electric power of electro, Rowan controlled the frosty Cryo, and Atlas, the youngest and bravest, was attuned to the verdant Dendro.” She began

“Together, these siblings maintained harmony in the world, training others to wield elemental powers and fostering a utopian society. They worked in harmony, each contributing their elemental gifts to sustain peace and stability. In times of cold, the pyro wielders brought warmth, while hydro wielders nurtured the land with water in times of drought.”

“But envy and malice lurked in the heart of one man, Elias. Fueled by jealousy, he sought to claim the siblings' accolades for himself. Learning the secrets of pyro, hydro, and geo, he launched a devastating assault on the siblings, systematically defeating all but one.”

I stared at her, intrigued in all of this new information.

“Atlas, determined to protect his kin, merged the remaining visions, unwittingly creating a new element—Light. This act of courage and sacrifice marked the dawn of a new era, as evidenced by the emblem you received in the letter from me.”

She finished.

“This is the Light element, the pinnacle of elemental power. Atlas wielded it to not only control light but also to command the other elements, a feat that saved the world from certain chaos and destruction. Elias, his adversary, stood no chance against such unimaginable power. After his heroic deed, Atlas was revered as the almighty Archon, worshiped by all, though he sought only to protect and defend against evil. His lifespan extended significantly due to his newfound abilities, allowing him to safeguard humanity for centuries.”

"Centuries? Really?" You asked incredulously.

"Indeed," Lady Eleanor confirmed. "His descendants inherited this gift, passing it down through generations. But after the 10th host, the pattern ceased. The desire for the Light element waned, and subsequent hosts failed to master the seven elements. Now, you, y/n, have the opportunity to revive this legacy, to honor your ancestors and make a difference."

You were stunned by her words, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of such a monumental task. "Learning all seven elements!? It’s hard enough learning just one! I can’t do that!" you protested.

Lady Eleanor scoffed at your hesitation. "Of course, you can! Your ancestors did it, so why can't you?"

You faltered, struggling to find a rebuttal. "I...because...you..."

"No excuses. We must start training before it's too late," she insisted, gently nudging you forward.

"Too late?" You echoed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and determination settling in.

She turned to you with a grim expression.

"Every 1000 years, a new host is chosen... but that's because Elias' darkness resurfaces every millennium. Hence, these past millennia have been so tumultuous."

"I thought you said Elias was defeated!?" you interjected.

"He was defeated... but not his darkness," Lady Eleanor clarified. "You see, when a wielder uses their abilities for evil, their minds become corrupted by the elements. It's a matter of being one with the elements, using them for good, or being consumed by them. Elias, in his pursuit of power, created a new element—darkness. His malevolent magic endured beyond his demise, choosing a new host every 1000 years and taking control of their mind. And with each passing millennium, it grows stronger. This darkness drives people to commit unspeakable acts, and if it were to overpower the light element... well, the consequences would be catastrophic."

"But what about the 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th hosts? Didn't the darkness defeat them?" you inquired, but she shook her head.

"For the darkness to truly triumph, it must vanquish the light element physically. As there hasn't been a true light elemental host in millennia, the darkness hasn't had the chance to prevail. However, with you as the new firstborn of the l/n family, you're the chosen one to confront this darkness. But we must commence your training now, before it's too late. The darkness typically doesn't manifest until a few years later, so time is of the essence. Are you in?"

You gazed at her incredulously. "How do I know I can trust you? I don't even know you personally," you challenged.

"I am Lady Eleanor, your trainer, tasked with preparing you to become the next host for the Light element," she affirmed with a smile.

"Yeah, but how do I know you're qualified to be a trainer? How do you know what to do?" you pressed.

She smiled knowingly. "Fight me, and you'll see," she proposed, prompting you to balk.

"No way! I'm not fighting an older woman like you! It's unethical!" you protested.

Suddenly, a gust of wind knocked you off the log you were perched on.

“What the hell!?” you exclaimed, as Lady Eleanor smirked.

“Come on, fight me. Or are you too weak? Just like that boy told you yesterday,” she taunted, causing your eyes to widen.

“How do you—”

“I’m well acquainted with everything happening around these parts, my dear. After all, I call this place home,” she explained, her smile widening.

“Now, are you going to fight me? Or just stand there looking pretty?” She said, making you frustrated.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” you replied, determined not to back down from the challenge.

You lunged at her with your sword, only to find a massive rock materialize between you, denting your weapon.

“My sword!” you cried out in frustration, glaring at Lady Eleanor.

Undeterred, you charged at her again, but she effortlessly disarmed you and swiftly countered your moves. Despite your efforts, you found yourself face-planted on the ground, feeling a mix of embarrassment and determination.

Lady Eleanor extended a hand to assist you to your feet, her expression softened with understanding. "You're too slow and too consumed by negative emotions," she advised gently, her voice carrying the wisdom of experience. "Inner peace is key, even in the midst of battle."

As you regained your footing, her words sank in, reminding you of the importance of maintaining a clear mind and calm demeanor, even in the face of adversity.

"I have been everyone's trainer besides Atlas'," Lady Eleanor continued, her gaze reflecting a mix of reverence and nostalgia. "He was the one who trained me... for I am the second holder of the light element."

Her revelation about being the second holder of the light element left you speechless, your eyes widening in astonishment.

“Show me then!” you demanded eagerly, hoping for a glimpse of her power.

But Lady Eleanor shook her head regretfully. “I cannot. Once I had my children, I made the choice to relinquish my light vision to be with them. It was a decision between keeping the light element or keeping my family.” she explained

“You chose what was most important to you?” you queried, seeking reassurance.

She nodded solemnly in response, her sincerity evident in her eyes.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” you pressed, your skepticism surfacing once more.

In response, Lady Eleanor lifted her wrist, revealing the luminous symbol of the light element engraved upon it. Its brilliance spoke volumes, validating her words without the need for further explanation.

“When a new holder for this element has succeeded in obtaining the gift, a symbol is engraved in their wrist for eternity. This is how you can trust me.” She said

You gasped in realization, finally grasping the authenticity of her words. “You… you really are telling the truth!” you exclaimed, a mix of surprise and relief flooding through you, making her roll her eyes in amusement.

“I’ve only been trying to say that about a hundred times,” she quipped with a hint of playful exasperation. Then, extending her hand toward you, she posed the ultimate question, “Are you in? Or are you out? The choice is yours.”

You hesitated, contemplating the weight of the decision before you. Did you truly want this responsibility, with the fate of humanity resting in your hands?

But Lady Eleanor’s reminder echoed in your mind: “Remember… a real warrior never backs down from a challenge. Are you a true warrior?”

With a newfound determination burning within you, you looked up at her and met her gaze squarely. Without a moment’s hesitation, you reached out and clasped her hand firmly, resolving to prove to yourself and everyone else that you were capable of far more than they ever imagined.

“Let’s do this.”

-back with Ajax-

It had been weeks since Ajax had last seen y/n. He felt horrible for what he said…but a part of him didn’t as well and that just made him feel worse. He had tried to reach out to you, but you never responded to him. He decided to go to Jean to see if she knew what was up with you.

*****

Ajax's frustration boiled over as he questioned Jean. "You and y/n are practically sisters! How can you not know where she is?"

Jean met his gaze, her tone gentle yet firm. "And you've been best friends with her since birth, Childe." She replied, making Ajax scoff.

"Then where is she if neither of us knows?" Ajax demanded, his impatience evident.

Jean paused. "Let's go check her house. I've been concerned about her too," she suggested, lying through her teeth. She rose to her feet with determination.

*****

The two knocked urgently on your door, their voices echoing through the empty house. With no response, Ajax's worry escalated, prompting him to kick the door open.

"Childe!"

"What? It could be an emergency," he defended, his concern palpable.

Inside, they called out for you, but the silence only deepened their apprehension. Their shock was evident as they surveyed the barren rooms, stripped of your belongings.

"What the hell?!" Ajax exclaimed, while Jean moved about the space.

Meanwhile, Ajax ascended the stairs to your room, his anxiety mounting. Upon entering, his heart clenched at the sight of the empty space. However, amidst the absence, one object remained—a broken picture frame. Carefully, he retrieved it from the floor, his chest heavy as he recognized the photo within. It was a picture of you and him from childhood.

"She... kept this? After all these years?" he murmured, his voice laced with emotion.

"It looks like she left it behind too... especially after you broke her heart with your harsh words," Jean revealed.

"What do you mean?" Ajax asked, confusion clouding his expression.

"Don't play dumb with me. She told me everything you said to her. And believe me, if she allowed me, I would've killed you already. But she made me promise not to, as long as she promised to pay me a visit every now and then after she left," Jean explained, her tone tinged with resentment.

"You knew she left!?" Ajax's voice rose in anger, his glare fixed on Jean.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me!?"

"Why should I? It's not like you would've cared anyways! You were a total dick to her, and I'm glad she's far away from here! Away from you!" Jean retorted, her own frustration boiling over.

“Well then why’d you even decide to come with me? Huh?”

”I don’t owe you any explanation.” She yelled back

Ajax stepped closer, his anger flaring. "You little—"

"Say it! Will it make you feel better? Especially knowing that you were the reason she left?” She yelled at him.

”You called her a nobody….said she was nothing. After everything she’s done for you….You should be ashamed of yourself, Childe" Jean interrupted, her words piercing through Ajax's defenses.

Now visibly shaken, Ajax recoiled, his hurt evident on his face.

"Now that you know everything, I'm going to leave. I don't want to see your face ever again…" Jean declared, turning on her heel and slamming the door behind her.

Ajax stared at the door, then down at the photo. He didn’t know what to feel…he was…confused. But why? He had Lumine…that’s all that mattered…right? It shouldn’t matter that you were gone…

But no matter what excuses he made for himself…he couldn’t get over the fact that he had lost you…his best friend…maybe something even more than just best friends…

Then and there is when he truly felt regret as tears started to fill up in his eyes…

”What have I done?”

__________________

Part two coming tomorrow! I hope you all enjoyed because I really enjoyed writing this one!

Taglist:

[lethalchiralium]

Tattooed Heart | Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanon

a/n: this is purely a response to Angel, this is how the 141 reacts to the knowledge of Simon “Ghost” Riley having a daughter. (alejandro, rudy, laswell, and könig meeting winnie soon! also simon meeting you soon as well :)!)

warnings: mentions of afab!reader, cussing, mentions of sex, mentions of death, gaz and price did not know simon knew how to have sex

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT

- Obviously, Price is the first to see the video. And of course, he’s absolutely speechless. Hearing Ghost speak in a soft voice was one thing, but seeing evidence that Ghost has 1. Had sex. 2. Got someone pregnant. 3. Has a daughter, was another thing. (He really thought Ghost has never had sex because of his whole aversion to physical touch.)

- And of course, as soon as Ghost gets on base, he is hunting his ass down. (“Since when do you have a baby?!” “Since November.”)

- Price does not ask about Winnie unless he knows absolutely no one is around. No one can eavesdrop, no one will know. Asks Simon about what color she likes best, if he really wears the mask around his daughter. (Which Simon answers, “She likes green right now. And yes. She knows me with or without it.”) He also asks if he can ever meet her. (“Someday, Captain. But not today.”)

- Price meets her on her first birthday. He bought her a little light green bear and a necklace “for when she gets older”. (It’s a Price family heirloom. Price considers Ghost to be one of his closest friends, and doesn’t really want a family himself so why not give it to someone who will appreciate it.) (“Thank you, John.” “It’s no problem, Ghost.”)

- Price learns about Winnie’s mom just before she’s two. She had died in an ambulance after a car crash when she was pregnant, Winnie had to be born via c-section two months early. (The woman was a ‘close friend’, Simon was coming to terms with being a father since she had told him two weeks before she died. He doesn’t speak her name.) She’s a happy child, always loving seeing ‘Uncle John’. Price is all smiles whenever he sees Winnie. (which used to be rare, but Simon has grown to truly trust Price.)

- Right after Winnie turns two, Simon asks Price to be her godfather. Price cried. He babysits sometimes for Simon when his pretty nanny has to go out of town and is always so surprised at how obsessed Winnie is with Simon. (“Where’s Daddy, Uncle John! I want him right now!” “Honey, Dad’s workin’. I’m supposed to be working too, can you- Ah!” Winnie smacks him in the face with some of the kid paint she has. She was ‘scolded’ by Simon when he got home (Simon told her to do it again when Price is being ‘mean’.)) Price would do anything for his goddaughter, he would burn the world for that little girl.

- The Task Force would see the video by accident. (At this point, Winnie is almost 4 and for the sake of this whole thing, TF141 is created BEFORE the events of MW2.) Price was drunk at a bar with Gaz and Soap, scrolling through his phone before saying, “Aww, look at my goddaughter.” And he plays the video.

- Gaz is just fucking bewildered. He’d sober up immediately and take the phone from Price, jaw dropped. “What the fuck.” He’d hand the phone to Soap, who is fucking speechless. (And of course, Price would snatch it away and immediately recognize his wrongdoing and say, “You lot stole my phone and saw that video, I did not show it to ya. I am not in on this.” Trying to get himself out of trouble because he knows that it’s incredibly difficult for Simon to let anyone meet his baby. So that would make it VERY easy for Simon to revoke Price’s privileges, albeit not for super long but long enough for Price to regret his whole life.)

- “Ghost has had sex?!” Was Gaz’s first response. (Price uttered a quiet, “That’s what I said.”) And he pushes his beer away, looking at Price while Price looks straight ahead. “He has a baby.”

- “Holy shite.” Soap would then say, tossing the phone onto the bar. “Can we meet her?”

- “It took me almost ten months to meet her myself, I doubt you two will ever.” Price answered, Gaz just sits back in his chair and goes, “Ghost has had sex.” And Soap goes, “Ghost has a baby.”

- When Soap and Gaz arrive back on base, practically dragging a very piss drunk Price while being piss drunk themselves, Ghost meets them. Gaz and Soap both stare at him and Ghost says, “What happened?”

- “You had sex.” “You have a baby.” Ghost looks at Price. Price looks at Ghost. Ghost knows he did it. He doesn’t say a word before he takes Price from the two bumbling idiots and says, “Go to bed.” (Ghost chews Price out the next morning. Price knows he deserves it and does not say one word.)

- Gaz follows Ghost around the next day, asking questions about his daughter out of earshot of others. (“I don’t know what you’re on about, Sergeant. Don’t you have paperwork to do?”) Gaz grumbles when he finally gives up, saying that the video probably wasn’t real and just Price messing with them.

- Soap is a lot more annoying about it. Just like Gaz and Price, he only asks questions when no one is around. (in fear of his life but he would never admit that.) “How old is she?” “Babies are so precious. My sister has one. I love my niece.” “Does she like ducks? My niece likes ducks.”

- Ghost would give him a look of “Shut the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up.” Soap doesn’t care. “Babies are so fun!”

- It would take just one day on patrol back at their base in England for Soap to trail Ghost home and see the girl for himself. She kisses his mask and hugs him tightly, he pats her back and heads into a house, seeing a very slim glimpse of a beautiful woman. (He reports back to Price and Gaz, freaking out. “HE HAS A WOMAN IN HIS HOUSE.” and Price is like, “Uh, yes… He has a nanny.”) (Gaz is still very much bewildered that Ghost, the untouchable man, has had sex so he does not comment on a woman being in his house.)

- A year later, after both Gaz and Soap have stopped pestering Ghost about Winnie, on her fifth birthday, unbeknownst to Gaz and Soap, Price invites them to the ‘party’. Soap immediately recognizes the building as Simon’s house when he, Gaz, and Price drive towards it. “You tricked us!” “I did.” “We don’t have presents!” “Yes, you do.” Price shoves small bags into their hands.

- Simon opens the door and actually lets them in. Gaz and Soap are absolutely dumbfounded when they enter the house. (Of course it’s in almost the middle of nowhere because he a paranoid man.)

- And here comes Winnie - dressed in pink with the green bear Price got her in her hands. “Uncle John!” She screams, and attacks his leg, clinging to it while Price just laughs. He walks around and chats with Ghost while Soap and Gaz just stand and watch the little girl.

- She would detach herself from Price’s leg before climbing onto the couch next to Gaz and smacking her hands onto his cheek and saying, “Friend.” Gaz would immediately burst into tears and she would hug him around his neck, Gaz would stand and carry her towards Ghost. (He’d be silently pointing at her to Price and mouthing, “Look!” He’s in absolute shambles. He thought that the Lieutenant’s daughter would be conditioned to not like strangers.)

- Winnie holds onto Gaz for dear life and does not like Soap at first. As soon as Soap was near, she would reach for Ghost. He would take her from Gaz without a word and let her squeeze her arms around his neck. (Soap’s face drops but Price pats his arms. “Don’t worry, she didn’t necessarily like me in the beginning either.” Soap feels better then.)

- Ghost would thank them all for coming to visit after they eat, he herded them towards the door and Soap goes, “Where’s the missus?”

- Ghost opened the door, gesturing for them to leave. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” And ‘slams’ the door in their faces. (Price bursts out laughing and Gaz is still all smiles. Soap is defeated.)

- And all is normal when they return to base the next day, except when Ghost is sat beside Soap. He fishes a light pink paper out of his vest pocket, hands it to him. Soap opens it and sees a drawing of an obviously mohawked stick figure and a smaller stick figure wearing pink. And in big, childish letters, Soap was written and pointed towards the mohawked one, and Winnie pointed to the smaller one. He almost cried. (Ghost then pulled out his phone, and opened his photos. “Here’s my girls.” He then showed a picture of you, holding a ten month old Winnie. (Ghost would be lying if he said that wasn’t when he fell in love with you.) “Don’t ever ask again.” “Sir yes sir.”)

———

Copyright © 2022 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

(strip club owner!eddie × fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!× reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors get out of my kitchen

Chapter 010: The Freak

A fight breaks out at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 4.4k words

warnings & disclaimers — mentions of seggs tr@ff!ck!ng, lots of blood, violence, physical altercation, profanities, glass shattering, screaming, jealousy

“I feel it coming, my soul cannot be found. I feel it coming, don’t fucking tie me down.”

♡

Eddie is glued to Nina’s hip during her orientation.

You can hardly watch. You can’t even listen. All Back of the House seems to be talking about is the fact that the cute new girl pulled up to work with Eddie. Apparently she skipped out of the passenger side of his van stoned out of her mind, waltzing in absentmindedly while Eddie opened the door for her.

Nina’s excuse was that she didn't have a ride to work. And while that may be true, your jealousy was projecting itself...hard. The times you were in Eddie’s van sitting right where she was were completely unrelated to work.

But Nina is a pretty girl. Eddie does love doing favors for pretty girls who flatter him.

You still couldn’t figure out why no one will talk about anything else. Like how Henry has evidently been spiraling into a lonely, seasonal depressive episode and could snap any minute. Or how whoever is closing isn’t sweeping the aisle all the way through. Also, one of the lights keeps flickering. Totally throws off the whole vibe of VECNA’S LAIR.

But no, the hot topic of today’s shift is still Nina and Eddie.

It's an awakening for you though. Now you really understand and have accepted that you are no different from everyone else.

Eddie’s jokes? He recycles with everybody.

Food? Makes for everybody.

Smoking and drinking in his van? With everybody.

Calls on Henry to fight off the bad guys? Yes, for everybody…

You are not special.

Speaking of Henry…he’s off task again. Luckily lunches are usually not busy so he can afford to be away from the door.

Henry is at VECNA’S LAIR with you, chatting away with Eddie’s buddy Gareth while you give Gareth a lap dance. And you can tell by the eagerness in Henry’s eyes that he’s anticipating his dance that you agreed to do for him to combat his loneliness.

“You gotta let me know how your dance goes, Creel,” Gareth grins. “Shy Girl is one of the best.”

Gareth is one of your regulars. He went to school with Eddie, played in his band Corroded Coffin when they were younger, and he also tips well. Eddie usually stays and chats with him, but today he is off and aloof, avoiding any type of eye contact with the both of you.

Screw Eddie. He’s seemed to have forgotten about you already now that there’s a new toy for him to play with.

“I love how you move your hips, babe,” Henry comments, snapping you back into reality. “And how you bond with every customer. I had no idea men pay you just to talk to them sometimes.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” you nod all while grinding yourself onto Gareth, hands combing through his wavy hair and trailing down to graze his neck. “Some guys just come here just to vent. Business men, teachers, doctors...”

“That’s really nice,” Henry blushes.

“Bouncers too,” you wink at him. “You know, when they’re not clocked in and supposed to be working.”

Henry’s eyes widen as he realizes, and soon he’s back up and starting towards the door. You and Gareth share an innocent chuckle about it before carrying on with your business.

"I can tell that dude is lonely," Gareth makes the same observation. "He doesn't have that many friends outside work."

"I wonder why," you ponder aloud, doing a little dance on Gareth’s lap. "He's so nice."

"From what Eddie told me, it's hard for Henry to open up to people," your patron explains. "Dude had a fucked up home life when he was younger. Dad was a piece of shit to him and his sister. Abused the shit outta 'em and their mom."

There's a pattern here. You try not to think about it.

"Anyways," Gareth says pulling out a $20 bill. "Can you give me scratches on my back? Trying to make an ex flame jealous."

"You manipulative fuck," you banter, snagging the $20 from him anyway. "I'm sure you have your reasons though."

So you honor Gareth's requests and leave some sharp etchings on his back, one large scratch in the shape of a heart.

You scan the club as you work, searching for your sister. Max is spotted near the entrance of the club, acquainting herself with Lucas and Dustin. She also met Steve earlier today and admitted to you that she has an innocent crush on him.

Of course she would. Who wouldn’t have a crush on The King?

You smile at how easy Max makes friends. She tries not to look at you while working but sometimes her curiosity takes over.

Gareth nods towards her.

"I see your sister knows the big secret now."

"Yeah, one less thing to worry about," you shrug sheepishly.

"She's supportive, I'm assuming?"

"Very."

"That's good," Gareth rubs your back. "I'm happy for you."

“Thanks,” you smile.

You catch sight of Steve next as he walks over to you. He greets you with a warm kiss and rests a hand at your waist.

Eddie watches you with Steve and Gareth, attempting to remain composed and professional with Nina as he spots her on the pole.

"What is going on here?" Steve asks you.

"I'm trying to make one of Gareth's ol' lady friends jealous," you explain. "Leaving him scratches and all."

"I love your sharp ass nails," Gareth swoons. He hands you a five.

"You are just spoiling me today,” you coo. “You can pick out my nail color next, Gare.”

"Green," Gareth answers right away.

"Yeah, I second that," Steve agrees.

Steve leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back, affectionately, relishing in how beautiful Steve always made you feel. Meanwhile, Gareth watches, running his hands softly across your thighs and muttering a soft, “fuck…”

And then you hear Eddie clear his throat closeby you.

"Jesus H. Christ," you hear Eddie grimace.

Eddie sounds uncomfortable. Good. It is not until someone else speaks that you realize he was shaken up about something else.

“Well well well,” comes a voice. “Looking just as skanky as you did when I last saw you.”

You look to see the patron standing by the entrance. He’s the scariest he’s ever looked. Your heart sinks to the floor.

It’s hard for you to find the words. “You...”

“Boo,” he grins, amused at how startled you are. “Kinda insulting that you think all these men can give you more than I can.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you demand.

Frantic footsteps sound not too long after, and Henry comes spilling in. He looks mortified, panicked. He had one job and he failed to do it.

“Hargrove, I’m sorry!”

“Henry!” you scold him, almost at a scream-whisper. “You weren’t supposed to let him in!”

“I didn’t know!” Henry exclaims.

“I thought Eddie told you!”

“I forgot!” Henry says. “It all happened so fast.”

“Yeah, security here sucks,” the man you’re tempted to throw something at smirks.

A crowd starts to form, which is odd because no one said anything that inherently stood out. But energy doesn’t lie. The tension in the room is noticeable.

“You can’t be here,” Eddie’s voice darkens.

Eddie makes his way down from the stage and to the front of the club, Nina watching in confusion as everyone huddled around. Eddie clears his throat and stands with his chest propped forward, chin raised along with his gritted teeth.

“You’re not welcome here,” your boss snaps.

“That’s no way to talk to a customer…”

“I know who you’re here for and you can’t have her,” Eddie growls.

Eddie looks over at you. Making his way into the crossfire, Eddie creates even more space between the two of you. Henry stays where he’s at on high alert.

“And I own this joint. So I can refuse service to anyone… Billy.”

Your twin brother flashes a dangerous, amused smile. “I see I’ve become a household name.”

Billy inches closer to you, leaving you paralyzed in place.

He looks different from when you last saw him. A lot more muscular. His beer belly is gone, and he finally shaved that obnoxious porn stache that he swore drew in all the ladies. Billy looks more satisfied at your horror than angry at who you’ve become.

A million thoughts are racing through your head. How could your brother have possibly known where you are? Did you leave your location on? Did you butt-dial him? Was it 'twintuition'?

Then you remember he's Billy. And a sociopath like Billy always finds a way to win.

“Eddie Munson,” Billy continues. “Owner of The Hellfire Club. Drug dealer. Car jacker. The town FREAK who’s notorious for sleeping with his employees before attempting to sell them into a sex trafficking ring in the outskirts of town.”

“That is SO NOT TRUE!” you hear Chrissy scream from behind the boys.

“Oh, hey Cherry!” Billy chimes. “Huge fan of your work. So is Eddie, though. And a million other men, so what makes me special huh?”

Henry is hovering, lingering between Eddie and Billy with a stance you knew all too well. The angled torso, a hand floating ready to butt in. The memories come flooding into the room in the form of burning tears against your waterline. Your throat is tight.

“How…the fuck…” you choke. “Did you find me?”

Billy flashes you his phone. Looking through his cracked screen, you see that the evidence is all on Reddit. Sure enough, there you were, doing your thing in a video surrounded by tons of men, exposing your birthmark that’s oh so similar to Billy’s.

“This girl is so fucking hot!” a Redditor comments.

“What’s her name?” someone asks.

“She goes by Shy Girl,” another answers. “Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club in Hawkins, IN.”

It’s no surprise that Billy follows the ‘stripper’ Sub-Reddit. You’ve gone viral, so of course he was bound to see it.

“Ever heard of a digital footprint?” Billy questions darkly. “Shy Girl?”

You gulp. In the age of technology, you should’ve known that your cover would be blown if you stood out well enough. How could you be so stupid?

“Oh look!” your brother chuckles. “There it is, the biggest giveaway of all. Right front and center… your birthmark."

“You win,” is all you can say. “You can stop now.”

“I’m not trying to win anything,” Billy jeers. “I’m just saying, if you had a brain, you would’ve at least thought to cover it up with makeup or something.”

Eddie looks over at you with sad eyes. It’s the first time he truly looked helpless. A part of him also looks like his own cover is blown too. You can’t help but wonder why.

“Yeah, you could say I did my research,” Billy draws on. He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “It kept me occupied on the plane. The news articles aren’t hard to find either. Hawkins is pretty small. A whole shoebox compared to Leucadia.”

His eyes dart back to Eddie. “And I’ve read up a lot about you.”

“You know the media loves to twist things,” Eddie hisses. “Especially if everything about me fits the narrative they’re trying to sell.”

Billy decides to challenge him. “So you’re saying everything is fake news?”

Eddie doesn’t comment. It strikes you odd that Eddie doesn’t even try to defend himself. What could he and Billy possibly be talking about it?

“Funny, I on the contrary believe you’ve earned your reputation,” Billy insists.

“What is he talking about Eddie?” you ask.

“Just forget about it,” Eddie shuts down.

“Yeah, forget about it,” Billy somewhat agrees. He turns to you. “You’re coming with me.”

You turn to Max. She watches, terrified as Billy ushers you in the corner. You’re too drained to fight back so you let him. But when you finally meet his eyes, Billy looks like your brother again.

“Seriously, WHAT were you thinking?” his voice shows genuine concern.

Billy sounds more disappointed now than vengeful.

“This is all because of YOU,” you snap. “I had no choice.”

“That’s your bullshit excuse?” Billy demands, eyes welling up with tears. “You’re a fucking waitress! I’m sure Benny’s down the block would’ve sufficed.”

Billy’s an asshole, for sure. But at the end of the day he’s still a multifaceted human. When the trauma doesn’t take over, he’s a level-headed individual. A clear thinker with good critical thinking skills and an ability to read the room. Something you’ve spent your whole life second-guessing yourself over.

Your brother continues his tangent.

“YOU HAVEN’T DANCED IN YEARS, first of all. The only ‘stripping’ you know is when you go skinny dipping with your little hoe friends at Black's Beach. You don’t have a permit to dance, which I’m pretty sure is illegal somehow because EVERYWHERE ELSE in Indiana requires a stripping permit. You don’t even know anything about what this industry entails, yet you cannonball headfirst into it like it’s just easy. This industry is a hotspot for sex trafficking. Millions and women and little girls are kidnapped every year and forced into sex work, don’t you know that?”

Billy nudges the ribbons in your hair.

“Child-like ribbons in your hair too. You disgust me.”

He pauses. It’s like he has an epiphany. The devilish smirk returns.

“But maybe Eddie knew that,” he tuts, waving a stupid finger of his in the air. “BINGO! With the little experience you have, Eddie must’ve known you were naive. Desperate. A little bit of a slut. Eddie knew he just HAD to get his hands on you. Take advantage of you. Exploit you.”

“Shut up.”

You knew Billy was being dumb. But what he says makes sense. And in the depths of your wounded heart, what he said felt true in a sense. Because there was a time you did feel betrayed by Eddie. Meanwhile Eddie has gone pale.

All eyes are on you now, and not for the reason you want. Sure, it’s a strip club. But never have you ever felt so naked. Never has your soul ever felt so exposed.

“Yeah…” Billy grins. It’s like you can see the gears grinding in his head. He flashes Eddie a disgusted look. “That’s exactly what it is. You know, you give me the creeps, Munson. Sure you hear that a lot.”

“You give me the creeps…Hargrove,” Eddie counters. “With how IN LOVE you seem to be with your sister.”

Eddie takes a few steps towards him to elaborate.

“Showing up to the place she strips at…causing a scene when you see her on someone’s lap… and then proceeding to tell her no one will love her like you do?”

Eddie scoffs.

“Yeah. Totally not creepy.”

“We’re family, Eddie,” Billy sighs. “Families love each other. Of course you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Hey, douchebag—” Steve begins but Chrissy stops him.

“Too fucking far, Billy,” you plead. “Stop.”

“You know what else I found out?” Billy smiles. “Your boy toy Eddie comes from a long line of crooks.”

Billy turns to Eddie. “Your half brother Eagan is a con man in Montauk, New York. And your other brother Ansen Wayne back in Memphis got arrested for, guess what? Arson! Funny.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Chrissy roars again.

But Billy proceeds. “And if I’m not mistaken, your dad Al is a drug dealer who married one of his clients, your mother. And guess what? When she wasn’t bringing him any money? He pimp slapped her in broad daylight and eventually slit her throat.”

Billy looks you in the eyes when he says that.

“How tragic,” Billy breathes. “Dad killing Mom.”

Billy turns back to Eddie.

“One dysfunctional ass family. And a poor excuse of a son.”

“Takes one to know one,” Eddie spits.

Billy laughs and nods. You’re surprised that doesn’t set him off.

“I’m not entertaining this,” your brother refuses. “I’m trying to be a better person, but Munson you are pushing it. Nah, my family is where I draw the line. Come on, sis. You’re coming with me.”

Yanking you by the wrist, Billy pulls you along with him.

“No,” you refuse.

But his grip is too tight. Now you’re just along for the ride.

“I would never do anything to hurt your sister,” Eddie says, running after you both. Henry follows closely behind Eddie. “Surely that’s something you can’t say.”

“You’d never do anything to hurt her?” Billy halts challenging him with the most satisfied grin on his face. “You’d never do anything to hurt her?”

Eddie nods. Billy releases you, sending you flying forward into Max’s arms. She’s shaking when you wrap your arms around her for comfort.

“What happened to Isabelle then, Eddie?” Billy taunts him. “Court records are also public, you know.”

Isabelle. Eddie’s ex-girlfriend. How does Eddie’s ex-GF fit into Hellfire’s narrative? In your mind you always thought Isabelle was a random chick.

The whole room is silent. It’s like a wave washed over everybody. Eddie simply stands there, no visible reaction besides the look of defeat.

Something tells you something is very, very wrong. Finally, Eddie speaks.

“Don’t you EVER bring up my wife again,” Eddie’s voice is breaking. “I loved her with my whole heart.”

Your world stops. Everyone else’s keeps going.

“Your wife?” you exclaim. “You have a wife?”

Billy exudes a Joker-like laugh as he watches the lore unravel.

“Ex-wife,” Eddie corrects himself. “We’re separated.”

His gaze burns into Billy.

“Since you’re such a historian, Hargrove,” Eddie hisses. “I’m afraid you missed the part where Isabelle used me to get her hands on my business and then weaponized the fact that she’s a woman to try and tarnish it during our separation. But of course, it doesn’t feed your narrative about me so you’re purposely leaving it out.”

“That’s what you get then,” Billy’s tongue glides against his inner cheek. “For getting involved with an employee. They’re all the same. A bunch of gold-digging whores.”

It all makes sense now. You look over at Eddie. Plastered on his face is the same haunted eyes he had the night he tried to resist your advances. Now you know why Eddie was so hesitant to pursue you. He wasn’t playing hard to get. He was guarding his heart. And his business.

“So, you wanna tell us about the trafficking ring?” Billy questions.

“I didn’t try to sell her,” Eddie spat. “God dammit. Our marriage was bleeding into work so I had to send her to a different club. One I thought I trusted. But the owner stabbed me in the back also.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy adds. “He was an undercover pimp! Didn’t you read the court docs on the plane like you said?”

“He’s not exactly book smart, Chris,” Eddie smirks. “Too many big words for his big brain to handle.”

There’s nothing else for Billy to say. His failed attempt to paint Eddie as the bad guy and him as the hero did not go to plan. But as usual, Billy wants the last word.

“Stay away from my sister.”

And soon your wrists are suffocated by his grip again. You whimper in fear as Billy drags you along, angrily pulling you towards the exit while resisting your kicks and shoves.

“This is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna go put your fucking clothes on,” Billy’s voice shakes. “Grab your shit, and you and Max are gonna come back home with me. Away from this shady bullshit.”

You can tell Billy is also terrified for you. But this is your story to write now. Not his. This is a narrative he cannot control.

“No!” you scream. “My new life is HERE.”

“The fuck it isn’t,” Billy denies. “Your life and Max’s lives are in California.”

“Are you deaf?” Steve demands. “She said no. Let her go.”

“Aw, now Walmart Ashton Kutcher has something to say!”

“Leave me alone, Billy,” you wail. “We are not going with you.”

“It’s all an inside job,” Billy is shaking now. “He’s no good for you, sis. Don’t you understand? How can you be so blind?”

“It’s my journey!” you roar. “And my life. You don’t get to control me anymore, especially since you’re part of the problem. And I’d rather be provided for by men like you than live with you ever again.”

Billy can only chuckle. “You’re delusional.”

He grabs Max on the way out.

“Max come on.”

“NO!” Max refuses.

Steve jumps in front of her and pulls her behind him. Billy rushes to grab Steve but is pushed back by Henry.

“Why are you grabbing Harrington?” Henry demands.

“Why’s he grabbing my sister?”

You’re waiting for Billy to face Henry’s wrath. He’s already trying to create space between the both of you so that you can wriggle free.

“HEY!”

To your surprise, the fist that meet’s Billy’s nose isn’t Henry’s.

“EDDIE!” Chrissy shrieks.

“WHOA MAN!” Steve screams, trying to run and stop the fight but Henry tackles him.

“EDDIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Dustin demands. “EDDIE, STOP!”

Billy is blindsided by Eddie with little to no time to react. Eddie gets two good punches in when he’s sprawled on top of him.

But Billy is quick to bounce back. Already accustomed to punches, Billy allows Eddie a few more blows to tire him out. When his hair gets in the way, Billy grabs Eddie by the wrist and tosses him off, hoisting himself over him to get him in a headlock.

“Son…of…a BITCH!” Eddie elbows him.

And as Billy scrunches to block his ribcage, Eddie gets him with a good left hook and a right cross-jab.

Blood splatters from Billy’s nose onto the surrounding area.

“HOLY SHIT!” Dustin shrieks.

“BILLY!” Maxine screams.

“You guys, STOP!” you order.

You rush over to your brother and attempt to pry him off. Steve rushes to Eddie and tries to do the same.

Billy’s stumbling back, unusual since he always wins fights. This is causing you to stumble back and lose your grip on him. Eddie gets a few more good punches in.

Jab. Jab. Jab. Jab-cross. Upper cut. Upper cut. And a seismic kick to the solar plexus.

Eddie Munson is strong.

“EDDIE, LEAVE HIM ALONE!” cries Chrissy. “YOU’RE GONNA KILL HIM IF YOU DON’T STOP.”

“Yeah?” Eddie mutters. “Well that’s kinda the plan.”

When he hears that, Henry stops whatever he’s doing to charge towards Billy and Eddie. You feel yourself grow lightheaded because of the amount of blood that has been expelled. You can almost smell the iron.

“Nope. That’s enough,” Henry declares, dragging your boss away this time.

Eddie has the advantage now during this time, and he uses all of it, punching Billy mercilessly into the ground. Billy tries to get up, but fails, and just when he’s not looking, Eddie sneaks a few roundhouse kicks to his head and neck.

The blood starts to pool.

“EDDIE, STOP!” everyone continuously chants.

“EDDIE, LET IT GO MAN!” Gareth begs.

“EDDIE, GET OFF OF HIM NOW!” Chrissy pleads.

“IT’S NOT WORTH IT!” Steve says to him.

“YES THE FUCK IT IS!” Eddie roars. “IT IS WORTH IT!”

The sound of glass shattering fills your ears as you look over at the boys. Henry managed to tackle Eddie in one brisk movement, unfortunately taking a small table that housed some beer bottles on it with them.

Now it smells like rust and Corona.

Gareth and Steve take over now, pulling Eddie away while Eddie cusses Billy out through his bloody nose. Meanwhile, Max rushes to Billy’s side and urges him to get out. Henry runs to her aid, dragging out your volatile twin brother so he wouldn’t harm anybody else. Billy’s out of sight now, but the thought of him still lingering in Hawkins until he sees you two again is unsettling.

“Whoa,” Steve exhales.

“What?” you ask him, crossing your arms in frustration.

“Eddie just fought someone,” he pants. “Your brother, Billy at that.”

You try to shrug it off. “Big deal,” you say. “Fights happen all the time here.”

“You don’t understand Hargrove,” Henry says, walking up you. “Eddie never fights anyone.”

You turn to face Henry.

“That’s what I’m here for,” the unscathed bodyguard explains.

———————-

The first person you go over to is Max. Consoling each other, you both hug one another and rock back and forth.

You look off into the corner and see Dustin with a tampon, trying to shove it up Eddie’s bloody nose while Nancy watches in amusement. Eddie swats Dustin’s hands away, mumbling, “Get that shit away from me” and setting for Kleenex instead.

“Shy Girl,” Nancy calls out. “Please come and get your man.”

Confused that she’s even talking to you that way, it dawns on you that Nancy is talking about Eddie. You walk towards Nancy, who is behind the bar, supervising Eddie and Dustin from a distance.

“Do you have some ice?” you ask her.

She holds up a pack she had been preparing.

“Way ahead of you love,” Nancy says.

You chuckle and thank Nancy as you take the ice from her. She gives you a nod, you’re welcome.

“He’s not my man, by the way,” you add, correcting her. “Just did something really sweet.”

“Well does his ass know that?” Nancy raises a brow. “Only a dumbass in love does shit that crazy and stupid.”

You look over at Eddie. His eyes find you at the same time. Chrissy is over in the corner with Nina, talking her down from the anxiety witnessing a fight that bloody must’ve caused her. Steve is over at the lair still, thinking. You can’t read the expression on his face.

Your grip on the ice pack tightens as you walk closer to Eddie. He gives you a nod and a terrible excuse of a wave, slowly wincing in pain after the slightest raise of his left arm.

“You are vile,” you say in his voice from the day it all fell apart. You extend your hand with the ice pack in it to him.

Feeding into your truce, Eddie looks up at you with a faint smile. He takes the ice pack in his hand.

“I prefer the term protective,” he parrots you.

———————————

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