#chapter 2 should be up next Tuesday!

[euphreana]

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 1: Mercy

Chapter 1 here we go - written in collaboration with @bitsy83! (Also available on ao3 here!)

Masterpost

-

Ambrosius was there when the sword went off. The deadly blast caught everyone by surprise - Ambrosius barely had a moment to think before grabbing his sword. It was a moment though, just long enough for him to gather his wits and knock the sword from Ballister’s hand before anyone else got hurt, Ballister included. The sword fell to the ground, sparking as it disintegrated into pieces. Ambrosius and Ballister stared at it, then at each other in shock. Then the guards leapt into action. Ballister was so stunned he didn’t fight back when they pinned his arms behind his back and forced him to his knees.

“I didn’t do it.” his voice was barely audible over the noise of the stadium. Then the guards started dragging him away, past the stunned cadets, back into the tunnels below the Glorodome. “I DIDN’T DO IT!” he shouted, finding his voice. “SOMEONE SWITCHED MY SWORD!”

Ambrosius had watched in shocked silence. There was nothing else he could do.

~ ~ ~

The queen was dead. It was all over the news. Killed by the commoner knight himself. What remained of the blaster-equipped sword was locked away as evidence while The Institute investigated the event. Everyone was saying it was an open-and-shut case - replicas of famous swords were easy to get, and Ballister could have easily gotten one and hidden an energy weapon in it. Why was the question that was bothering Ambrosius.

He’d read the write-ups explaining the psyche of the ‘deranged, previous street urchin who’d snapped under stress’, but he’d known the man for over a decade - the profile didn’t fit. Ballister wasn’t a murderer… unless the last ten years had all been an act. Had their friendship been a facade? Had Ballister been planning this for years? Was this his revenge on a system he felt had mistreated him for so long? Or had he been telling the truth on the night of the murder - that someone had switched his sword out, that he’d been set up? But then who had done it? Some terrorist faction that was just now showing itself? The kingdom had been peaceful for decades, why would something surface now?

Ambrosius needed to make sense of this. He trusted The Institute to take care of it, but impatience was getting the better of him. He’d asked for visitation rights several times in the days since the Queen’s murder, but each time he’d been denied. That man was a raving lunatic, they’d told him, and he needed to be kept calm and isolated.

That wasn’t what the dungeon’s camera feed was showing. Ambrosius sat back in his chair in The Institute’s security room, perplexed. The feed showed Ballister looking dejected, sitting in a cell, sometimes pacing, but mostly just… sitting there, not saying a word. No mad ravings like the guards had described. Ambrosius fast-forwarded the feed. Hours of footage, all showing the same thing; nothing. The guards were lying. Why? Why was nothing adding up?

Ambrosius turned away from the computer, rubbing his head. Staring at big screens always made his eyes hurt. Smaller screens, not so much. He flicked his phone open. A news article flashed on the screen; ‘Breaking News: Ballister’s Written Confession Revealed’. Ambrosius blinked. When had that happened? He’d already skimmed through the bulk of the security camera footage from the last few days, and he hadn’t seen anyone go to interview him.

He tapped the article. Sure enough, there it was. A confession of murder, along with enough broken grammar to convince anyone that the author had lost it. Ambrosius stared at the screen until his eyes hurt again. Why would Bal implicate himself if he'd said he was innocent? Now with a confession made clear, all that was left was the sentencing, and there was only one punishment for murder in the kingdom; death.

Years of feelings began to surface - the times they’d stayed out late getting nachos, the times Bal had comforted him when his parents had died - so many experiences built on love and trust. Ambrosius didn’t want to believe Ballister was a murderer. He didn’t want to lose him. He couldn’t lose him.

Ambrosius got up. The article had mentioned the sentencing would be that evening. There was something he could do - he’d heard of an old custom that someone of noble blood or of high status could call for mercy on a convict - not a full pardon, but a punishment could be lightened. As Gloreth’s direct descendant, Ambrosius could get a judge to give a lifetime of house arrest over hanging… if it was still valid.

Ambrosius headed to the court building. They would know if he could declare mercy and how. If he hurried, maybe he could save Bal’s life.

The receptionist knew about the custom, but didn’t know if it was still legal or who would handle it. It hadn’t been done in decades. She made some calls to different departments to see. Ambrosius dug his nails into his palm every time a call turned out fruitless. Time was ticking away. Time he didn’t have.

Finally, they found the answer; the custom was still legal. Better yet, they found out who would handle the proceeding - someone in the judicial building across the campus. There would be paperwork involved. Ambrosius hated paperwork.

Ambrosius didn’t say who he was pardoning, but he could see the confusion on the clerk’s face when he handed him the sheaf of necessary papers. There was only one person in line for sentencing, and who would pardon an obvious murderer?

Ambrosius sat in the lobby and pored over the forms. He needed proof of his lineage. He needed the exact charges against Ballister. He needed the name of the judge. So many fields. So many signatures. He didn’t have time for this! Maybe he could get the first page done, declare mercy, say he’d missed a page, and then finish the rest afterward. Anything to stall the proceedings long enough to get it all filled out.

The records building was his first stop. It wasn’t far, just a few minutes walk. Ambrosius jogged across the campus green. How much time did he have left? He glanced at a nearby clock tower. Then he froze.

In the distance, there was a black flag flying above the judgment tower. The papers in Ambrosius’s hands crinkled as he tightened his grip. A black flag meant an execution was in progress. He’d missed the sentencing.

Ambrosius broke into a run. Forget the paperwork. He’d declare mercy on the spot and worry about that later. But he needed to get there. He needed to get there NOW!

People hurried out of his way as he tore through side streets and courtyards. He ran, his pulse pounding in his ears. The flag was still at full mast. He could see the front doors to the tower in the distance, two guards out front.

The guards stepped in front of the doors as he approached.

“Closed event. Nobody else allowed in.”

Ambrosius didn’t stop. “Let me in! I need to mercy—”

“No one. Else. Allowed.” The guard stated again.

Ambrosius rushed them. It almost worked - they hadn’t expected that from Gloreth’s descendant. He’d nearly gotten his hand on the door handle when they grabbed him and shoved him backwards. Ambrosius didn’t relent. He pushed back, digging in his heels, reaching past them for the handle.

“Let me in!”

His fingers touched the handle briefly. Then he found himself thrown onto the ground, paperwork falling from his hand.

“Don’t make this difficult.” a guard growled.

Ambrosius was back on his feet in an instant, frantic.

“Or what?! I am a knight! Descendant of Gloreth!” He charged again, this time trying to grapple a guard.

“That doesn’t matter.” The other guard grabbed Ambrosius from behind. “Closed event. Direct orders.”

Ambrosius landed on his back again, his head hitting the pavement. He looked up at the sky for a moment, dazed. The black flag. It was being lowered.

“NO!”

The tower door opened and a reporter stepped out, absently scrolling through a notepad. The guards moved to let her pass. Ambrosius seized his chance and barrelled through the opening, past the guards, into the courtyard.

“STOP! I DECLARE MERCY!”

His voice echoed off the walls, startling the audience in front of the gallows. Everyone turned to look at him. Ambrosius charged through the crowd, ignoring them. The gallows looked empty. Where was the convicted?

“I declare mercy!” He shouted again, pushing his way to the front. Then he froze. He could see the base of the gallows now. A tower worker was working the noose off an all-too-familiar figure laying in a crumpled heap on the ground.

Ballister Boldheart was dead.

-

Chapter 2

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

<- Previous - Next ->

Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

--------------

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

------------

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 17- No Ifs, Ands, or Butts

Summary: You and Javi are continuing to make progress on building your new house, until a few distractions are thrown your way that you definitely weren't expecting.

Word Count: 12.3K (how bad is it that I'm like, wow! What an average length for a chapter! Well done, me!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), HELLO, STRAP IN EVERYONE. unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), romantic? ANAL (you guys, I'm sweating), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral (f receiving), rimjob (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, insecurity but Javi being our consent KING and literally taking such good care of you (but would we expect anything less?!), Javi with dogs (hehehehe), everyone say thank you to our favorite village idiots Carter and Miller for helping out Javi and Osita (you'll see!!)

A/N: If there are two words to sum up the plot of this chapter, it is butts and dogs (if you watch Bluey, yes, the puppy is named after Muffin LMAO) 💀 I am so sorry this chapter took FOREVER, 1) Life has been crazy busy (parent teacher conferences sucked the life out of me for like a full week), and 2) I would be lying if I said I was not shakin' in my boots to post this bc I have never written legit butt stuff smut (say that 3 times fast) before and I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, so if you don't wanna read this chapter/skip the smut I will not be offended at all!! Also for my non-American friends, Home Depot is like a giant hardware store (that also sells hot dogs that absolutely slap) Okay, that's all, love y'all more than words, forehead kisses for all of you!! 😙 also please laugh at the name of this chapter I thought it was funny as hell, I'm crackin myself up

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“Okay, we have paint samples, countertop samples, carpet samples, sheets of drywall, toilets that are ordered can come get picked up on Tuesday, and we can let Danny know they finally have those screws he’s been looking for back in stock. That’s everything, right? Please say that’s everything.” You sighed, going over your home project to-do list for what felt like the 47th time before exiting out of Home Depot for what also felt like the 147th time this week. 

What had started as a plot of land and and a head full of ideas was slowly but surely becoming reality as progress on your new home came to fruition- as winter faded into spring, your house began to grow and change with the seasons, bare bones wooden beams and dirt of a few months ago now becoming walls, floors and roofs of the new place you’d spend forever in. While it was exciting to move into the stages of actually deciding what the inside of your home should look like (not just shape and size), it felt like you and Javi had been making a million and one decisions every day related to something to do with the house, and unfortunately, this Sunday night was no exception. 

“No, I think that’s everything.” Javi nodded, scanning over the wrinkled piece of paper in his hands once more. 

“We might as well just start changing our permanent address to this Home Depot. I’m pretty sure the employees are convinced we live here at this point.” You laughed, resting one hand on your hip, the other full of the sample swatches you and Javi needed to look at when you got home. “You sure that’s everything? Honestly, even if it’s not, let’s face it, we’ll be here some point later this week anyways. At least now it’s getting to the fun stuff- Paint and floors is a lot more fun than plumbing and electrical.” 

“I know. We’re almost there, Osita. Danny said 8 to 10 more weeks last time I talked to him.” 

“Over/under on how many more trips we make to Home Depot between now and then. I’m gonna say 56.” 

“You’re such a dork. I fucking hope it’s not 56.”

The two of you made your way out to the parking lot with hands full of goods, the sun slowly beginning to set behind the other buildings of the shopping center- a Chinese restaurant, a laundry mat, a building that had been under construction since your frequent trips to Home Depot began, and a pet store. 

You and Javi had tried the Chinese restaurant once, a few bites in simultaneously agreeing it was 100% the worst food you had ever had, never needed to go to the laundry mat, and god knows what the mystery building was getting turned into. You had, however, always wanted to go into the pet store, knowing it would be fun to walk around and look at the animals since it was something you loved doing as a kid with your brothers. But by the time the two of you were done with your hardware shopping, your brain was too fried to ever ask Javi if he wanted to go in and check things out as an entertaining thing to do. Tonight probably would have been no exception to the rule, but that was before you noticed the big sign posted in front of the store reading “Dog Adoption Event Today!” 

You and Javi had both agreed you had wanted to get a dog- that was something the two of you had easily agreed upon early on in your relationship- but like most things nowadays, you were waiting until the house was finished and you were out of the apartment before looking into getting one. You knew that going to look at dogs before the two of you could really do anything about it was a bad idea, but the longer you stared at that sign, the less and less willpower you began to have to keep yourself from running over there. 

“Jav.” You nudged, the two of you almost to Javi’s truck before stopping in your tracks, gesturing over to the pet store. Javi paused next to you, taking a moment to read the bright bold letters of the sign, letting out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Baby, you know we can’t get a dog right now. Believe me, I want one too, but we gotta wait until the house is done first.” 

“I know. Can we just go look? Please?” While your puppy dog eyes were no match compared to Javi’s, you pouted your lip just about as far as it could go, batting your lashes at him with a pitiful frown on your face. You had no idea how Javi was ever going to be able to say no to your kids if he was already immediately caving from your silly, overexaggerated begging, let alone his own sweet brown eyes staring back at tiny versions of him. Regardless, right now, Javi’s lack of iron will was working in your favor, letting out another small sigh, contemplating for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. 

“Fine. But just looking, okay?” He muttered, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you. 

“Yes! Thank you! I promise, just looking… Probably.” You grinned, changing directions and speed walking across the parking lot towards the pet shop. Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he followed behind you. 

“I heard that.” 

As you walked through the front doors of the pet store, you were greeted with the sounds of high pitched barks and yaps, joining the few people gathered by the pen set up to contain the litter of what looked to be a mix of cattle dogs and something shorter and stumpier, the brown and cream speckled puppies bouncing and playing with the toys, blankets, and other littermates in the cage with them. You audibly let out a gasp as you looked down at the pure adorableness of the sweet little balls of fluff below you, squatting down next to the pen to get a better look at the group of puppies. 

“Oh my god, they’re so cute. Javi, they’re so freaking cute. Hi lil babies, aren’t you the most precious things ever?” You cooed, holding the back of your hand up to the cage for the playful puppies to sniff, their tiny bodies toppling over each other to smell you. 

As much as Javi wanted to be tough and strong willed to try and prove a point, you were right- these puppies were the cutest things he’d seen in a long time. Crouching down next to you, he glanced over, giving you the I told you this was a bad idea look that you knew you were bound to get from him the moment you saw the puppies. 

“They are really fucking cute.” Javi sighed in reluctant agreement, bringing his hand down by yours to try and pet some of the puppies through the cage. 

“Oh hi there! I see you two found the puppies!” An employee, an older woman with curly gray hair, smiled down at the two of you, gesturing towards the pen full of tiny, yapping pups. “Are you interested in adopting one?” You and Javi looked up at her, each of you letting out a deep breath before speaking at the same time, your answers lacking unison. 

“No.” 

“Maybe.” You quietly whispered under Javi’s no, letting out a little shrug, eyes darting away towards Javi to spare yourself from the eye roll you knew he was giving you from your response. “No, we’re not…” You finally agreed, giving another pouty, sad look to Javi. “We really want one, but we’re in an apartment right now and are moving into a house soon. We’re waiting until then to get one. Although these guys are making it very hard to keep it that way.” 

“I can understand that.” The woman laughed, a playful grin spread across her face, clearly sensing your willpower about the situation was much weaker than Javi’s. “Well, even if you’re not interested in adopting one right now, you’re more than welcome to pick them up or play with them! It’s good for them to practice being handled anyways.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Immediately, you stood up, bending over the edge of the pen to pick up one of the puppies closest to you, cuddling it against your chest as it squirmed and wiggled in your grasp. You sat bag down on the floor, cross legged as you cradled the puppy, eyes almost as wide and sweet as the dog you were now holding. “What’s this one’s name?” You asked the woman, carefully setting it down between your legs to let it bounce around. 

“That one is Muffin. He’s a feisty one, but a sweetheart.” She beamed, slowly bending down to pick up one of the stuffed toys in the cage, handing it over to Javi. Before you knew it, Muffin was scooting out of your lap and bolting over to Javi and the plush rabbit he was holding in his hands, making the both of you giggle at his goofy, floppy gallop. Javi held out the toy in front of him, a smile spreading across his face as Muffin bit down into the rabbit, shaking it in his mouth, tugging back at Javi’s grip on the stuffed animal. Any shred of stubbornness Javi was trying to hold out on was long gone, smiling and snickering just as wide as you as Muffin hopped into Javi’s lap, curling up with his toy in his mouth. 

Javi was like a little kid, practically giggling as he grabbed the stuffed rabbit and tossed it along the floor, watching Muffin slip and slide across the linoleum before pouncing on the toy and trotting back to Javi with it in his mouth. 

“Good boy! You’re smart, aren’t you?” Javi grinned, tugging at the toy before looking back at you and your look, screaming, So much for just looking, huh? without having to say a word. “He is really cute.” Javi admitted, trying his best to keep his composure from completely crumbling. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, giving each other the look that made you seriously contemplate if you were going home with a puppy today, until you looked back down at Muffin, now hunched over Javi’s foot, pee dribbling down his shoe. 

“Oh shit!” You grimaced, reaching up to pick up Muffin mid-stream, scooting him over to finish peeing on the floor instead of on Javi. 

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” The woman gasped, grabbing some towels next to the cage, handing them off to Javi for him to wipe the pee off his shoe. “That is the thing with puppies, the potty training does take a while.” 

You were trying your best not to burst out into laughter as you picked Muffin back up, putting him back in the pen with the rest of his brothers and sisters, giving Javi and apologetic shrug at his current circumstances, knowing it was not helping your in any way shape or form to bring a puppy back to your apartment. “No it’s all good, no worries.” Javi smiled, wiping off his shoe with the towel and giving it a quick shake with a reluctant sigh, grounding him back in reality. 

“Can’t be any worse than stepping in a pile of cow poop.” You teased as Javi looked down in disappointment at his shoe, finally beginning to shake his head and laugh along with you. “Alright, you win, Mr. Reasonable. Muffin has made a very good case for no puppies at the apartment.” 

“Eventually baby, I promise.” Javi smirked, giving you a little nudge, the two of you waving goodbye to the cuteness corralled in the kennel behind you, finally making your way back to the car after your detour. 

Well… So much for that plan.  

“What about this one?” 

“Baby, I don’t know, at this point, they all just look like the same color.” You sighed, slumping your hand in your face, resting your elbow on the kitchen table where you and Javi sat, paint swatches spread across the wooden surface, among scattered samples of carpet, countertops and backsplash tiles. “I don’t think my brain can make any more house decisions tonight.”  

“Me either.” Javi huffed, reaching across the table to organize the paint sample cards into a pile next to the stack of other house things that now seemed to have a permanent home with you during dinner time. “I had no fucking idea there were so many goddamn shades of beige.” 

“It definitely doesn’t help that we’re trying to just pick through different shades of brown instead of fun colors.” You laughed, gathering the samples in front of you and stacking them in Javi’s pile as he stood up, pushing in his chair and making his way to the other side of the table where you sat, coming behind you to drape his arms over your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you leaned your head back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his to pull him closer. 

“Fun colors? What, you wanna paint the house purple, Hermosa?” Javi smiled, giving you a little shake in your chair making you giggle. 

“No, you dork. I was actually thinking more hot pink or neon green.” You retorted, giving Javi a nudge back tiling your head up towards him. “No, I don’t know, I know we want something neutral through the house but like, it’ll be fun to pick cute paint colors when we have kids and stuff.” 

Javi squeezed you a little tighter, his heart warming at the thought of when they’d get to do this again when there were actually kids in the picture to fill the empty rooms of their house. No matter how many times you and Javi talked about it, he was sure he’d never get over the fact that you wanted to have a family with him. It was a dream that had come and gone for him all those years ago, resigning himself to a life of simply surviving, even after he had returned home to Laredo. But now, the fact that dream was in reach, and undoubtedly in the near future had him beaming, knowing there was no one else in the world he wanted to spend the rest of his life and build a family with beside you, and that for some reason he still couldn’t quite comprehend, you felt the same way. 

While you had agreed that you would wait until you were married and your house was completely finished before you started trying and your birth control made its permanent home in the trash, with every day that he got closer to marrying you, finalizing your house and starting the newest chapter of your lives together, Javi couldn’t help but feel a want, no, a need, to start a family with you- to fulfill a purpose he so desperately craved to be a father. 

“Well…” Javi grinned, leaning back down to kiss your neck, his pecks becoming much more tender and slow with each press of his lips, “you could let me put a baby in you right now, and we could pick out fun paint colors along with the borning brown ones. Got a lot of rooms we need to fill and paint, Osita.”

“Javier Peña! You are a menace! You have to stop with the baby talk, or I swear, you’re about to make me cave in and crumble. You are testing every ounce of willpower I have.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked up, entranced by Javi’s sweet brown  eyes and their powerful effects. 

While you and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever ever since you had gotten engaged, there was something about knowing you were about to have your own house with 4 extra rooms, solely built for the purpose of being filled with your kids that drove you, and even worse, Javi, absolutely crazy. In the past few weeks, the house had taken shape enough to finally have rooms that actually looked like rooms, Javi making it a point every time the two of you went over to check on progress, to point out just how good the spare bedrooms looked, like he was the most proud of those 4 extra rooms more than any other space in the house.   

The irrational part of you would have given him a baby yesterday, but the rational part of you knew you wanted to be married and have every last inch of that house finished before you brought a baby there. But every time Javi saw those bedrooms, looking at you with that big, goofy grin on his face for his children that didn’t even exist yet, oh god, did it make you want to say fuck it to every ounce of rationality you had left. 

“I think you have baby fever worse than I do, Jav. And that’s saying something.” You teased, reaching up to scrunch his cheeks. With another little giggle and content sigh, you pushed yourself up out of your chair, coming around the back of it to get the slightest running start to jump on him, full koala style, wrapping your arms and legs around his broad back, making the two of you burst out in laughter as he spun you around while you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, covering him with little kisses. “I love you so much. You’re gonna be such a good dad, you know that?” 

“I love you too, Osita. I hope I am. I want to be.” Javi sighed, a hopeful half smile pursed between his lips, causing you to cup both your hands around his face, forcing him to look at you. 

“You will be. I promise.” Tilting your head in, you pressed a soft, tender kiss onto his lips, lingering just a little longer than normal for your added reassurance. “Alright, I gotta get down now though, we have dishes we have to put away, and I have to shower tonight since I have a staff meeting tomorrow morning before school and I don’t wanna have to get up earlier than I need to.” 

“Un beso más (One more kiss).” Javi smiled, gripping a little tighter on your thighs wrapped around his legs, refusing to let go until you fulfilled his request. 

“Solamente un beso más? Por qué no dos? Tres? (Only one more? Why not 2? 3?)” You giggled, one of your hands running through the thick curls of his hair, while the other traced soft circles along his jawline. 

“Me gustaría darte todos los besos, Osita. Te daría cualquier cosa. (I’d give you all the kisses, Osita. I’d give you anything.)” Leaning in, your mouths met again in a soft and sweet moment, a kiss that felt like he meant it- He would give you the world if you asked for it, and then some. 

“God, I could kiss you forever. Alright, Romeo, put me down, we got things to do, and if you don’t, I know for a fact none of those things are getting done.” 

“Fine.” He sighed overdramatically, letting your legs fall to the floor as he released his grasp. “I’ll clean up dinner and you can go take a shower.” 

“I can help with cleaning up, Jav. You made dinner, the least I can do is-” 

“Go get your ass in the shower. I’ll clean it up.” He smiled, planting a kiss on the top of your head before gesturing towards the bathroom, making you cross your arms over your chest with an unseriously stern look on your face. 

“Are you trying to tell me that I smell? Rude. Sure you’re not the one who needs to shower after your foot got covered in piss?” You raised an eyebrow at him, trying your best not to laugh. 

“Go shower, you dork.” Javi chuckled, giving your ass a playful slap as you parted ways, sticking your tongue out at him as you disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom.

After a long, and even hotter shower than usual (considering you didn’t have to account for Javi’s temperature complaints), you wrapped yourself up in your towel and headed back to your room, where you found Javi laying in bed, reading one of the books you had been teasing him about for the past few weeks as it sat on his nightstand, unopened, even though he insisted he really was going to read it soon. As if the fact that him finally opening up and reading the book wasn’t enough to taunt him about, the way his face scrunched as he squinted at the pages certainly was. 

“You doin’ alright over there, Grandpa? Jav, you just have to give in and get glasses, you know you can’t see anything, stop trying to fight it.” You giggled, your appearance in the bedroom catching Javi’s attention, making him rest his open book over his stomach. 

“I don’t need glasses. I can see just fine. I’d look stupid in them, anyways.” He grumbled, refusing to admit that you were right even though he knew just as well as you that his eyesight was definitely not what it once was. He let out another sigh, dogearring the page of his book and setting it on his nightstand, his grumpy demeanor quickly shifting as you gave him that playful smirk you always did when you wanted to rub something in to prove your point. You let out another laugh as Javi rolled his eyes at you, shifting himself on the bed to lay on his side, face resting in his palm with those sweet puppy dog eyes that never left your sight any time he watched you get ready, even if all it meant was putting on one of his oversized shirts and sleep shorts to go to sleep in. 

“Yeah, okay.” You replied, your voice oozing with sarcasm. “And you wouldn’t look stupid in glasses, you look hot in anything, and I’m sure you would look extra hot with 20/20 vision.” 

“Pendejo…” 

“You love me.” 

The two of you laughed as you shuffled through the drawers of your dresser, pulling out one of Javi’s t shirts to wear to bed along with a pair of underwear and cotton shorts, piling the clothes next to you as you unwrapped your towel drying yourself off once more before letting it drop to the floor so you could change. You could see Javi’s reflection staring back at you, more specifically, your ass in the mirror, an awestruck and lustful look growing in his eyes as you reached over to pick up your shirt. 

“I can literally feel your eyes burning a hole through my ass, Jav.” You sassed, smirking back at him through the mirror as you watched him bite down on his lip. 

“Fuck, I love your ass so much, you know that?” Javi rasped, his tongue gently darting between his lips, eyes still locked on your behind. 

“Yes, Javi, you are very adamant about letting me know how much you love it.” You snickered, slipping his shirt over your head, followed pair your pair of underwear, opting to completely forgo your shorts to play into his comment. You crawled up into bed next to him, nudging him over so his back laid on the mattress and you laid on top of him, pressing a soft, slow kiss against his lips as his hands roamed down your back, sneaking under the hem of your shirt to knead the soft flesh of your ass, letting out a low groan as your mouths met. 

“Because it’s fucking perfect.” He hummed, gripping his fingertips even deeper into your skin after sliding them under the thin, cotton fabric covering it. 

“Wow, someone’s in a mood about my butt tonight. Didn’t know your giant t-shirt and my plain ass underwear was really doin’ it for ya.” You joked, a little grin spread across your face as you ran your hands through Javi’s hair before sliding them down his face to cup his jaw. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the look on Javi’s face had quickly turned from one of lust to deep thought, his brow scrunched and nostrils flared, making you tilt your head in confusion. “What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately noticing the shift in his demeanor. “You only get that look when you’re really thinking hard about something, or you have to fart and you’re trying to hold it in, and I’m really hoping it’s not the second one.” 

Your comment was enough to snap him out of his own thoughts, making him shake his head as the two of you laughed, Javi still holding back slightly as his eyes shifted down towards the mattress, practically hearing the gears in his brain turning, when all of a sudden, it clicked with you. 

Oh shit. 

The combination of his stare down and silence told you everything you needed to know. 

You tilted his chin back up towards your face, a curious smirk stretched between your lips as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You wanna fuck my ass, don’t you?” 

Your voice was sweet and sultry, immediately making Javi’s face go blank in shock that you had connected the dots before he had even said anything. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest almost as loudly as Javi’s, a nervous swarm of butterflies filling your stomach as you waited for him to respond. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. There had been plenty of times that Javi had put a thumb or fingers in your ass when he fucked you from behind, and holy shit, did it feel good whenever he did it. You’d honestly debated bringing it up before, but there was a part of you that could never bring yourself to do it because you never had, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous about it. 

It wasn’t that you didn't trust Javi- You’d trust him with your whole life without a second thought. There had never been a time since the moment you first had sex that your comfort wasn’t always his first priority. But with how full Javi felt inside you with just a thumb or a finger, couldn’t help but make you feel a little worried with how big he’d feel with his whole dick inside your ass. 

You also couldn’t help but feel a preemptive guilt if it ended up being too much and you had to ask him to stop, not that he would ever make you feel bad about it, but still, you couldn’t help but play out worse case scenarios in your head. But something about that look in his face as he stared you down in the mirror and head turning deep in thought was enough to spark that little flame of confidence you had brewing and beat him to the punch. 

“Hermosa…” He paused, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing as he gulped, taking an anxious deep breath. “Baby, I-” 

“Do you?” 

The tightened grip of his fingers in your ass, gentle nod of his head and the low groan releasing from his chest was all you needed to know to figure out the answer to your question without even needing Javi to say a single word. His free hand mirrored yours, cupping your cheek as the two of you locked hungry gazes with each other, Javi now finally working up enough confidence to respond. 

“I want to so fucking bad.” Javi rasped, his dark brown eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need for reassurance. “But if you don’t want to, I don’t ever want to make you do something you’re not comfortable with. I promise, I won’t be upset about it at all.” The confident facade you had been fronting quickly began to crumble, your body flooding with a combination of nerves and excitement. 

“I do, I just- I- I’ve never done it before.” You weren’t sure how your voice had gotten so small and meek- maybe it was the reality of what you were about to do setting in at a rapid pace. Something about the sweet, soft innocence of your voice already had Javi hard as a rock, using every ounce of willpower to keep his composure, considering how even just the thought of even getting to put his dick in your ass already had him on edge. 

“That’s okay. Like I said, it’s only if you want to, baby. We can take it slow and if it’s too much, I’ll stop, no questions asked.” 

You could feel your head beginning to gently nod in agreement as Javi’s thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, a little smirk forming between your cheeks while your heart raced at a million miles per hour, almost feeling as worked up and nervous as the very first time the two of you had sex all that time ago. 

“I want to.” You whispered, letting your lips meet his in a tender and ferocious passion, muted moans escaping from each of your parted mouths. 

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to say yes just because I want to.” And fuck, could you feel how badly he wanted to, his fully hard dick straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, heavy against your thigh. You were no better despite your nerves, the cotton fabric of your underwear absolutely drenched already without Javi even touching you. 

“I’m sure. I promise.” 

A low groan rumbled deep in Javi’s chest as your mouths met again, Javi flipping you over so your back was flat against the mattress, letting his hands roam along your body while his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl. Gonna take my time with you, okay? I promise I’ll make sure you’re ready.” 

“Well I appreciate you just not going straight to shoving your dick into my ass, very gentlemanly of you.” You joked, trying to calm your nerves with your sarcastic wit, Javi practically snorting at your comment. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi whispered to himself through his laughter, resting his head on your chest as he looked up at you in amusement. 

“Sorry, I’ll stop and let you get back to business.” Javi lay frozen, still staring up at you with his head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised. 

“Osita, you know I love you very much, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“And that since we’ve been together, I’ve learned a lot of things about you? 

“Also yes.” 

“So you know I can tell when you’re nervous about something, right?” 

You let out a defeated sigh, crossing your arms in stubborn defiance, not wanting to admit that you knew Javi’s suspicions were correct. You waited a moment, and with a little frown pursed between your lips, you finally gave in. 

“...Yeah.” 

Javi rolled over next to you, draping one arm over your waist, the other holding his chin in his hand with his elbow propped up against the mattress, his tender gaze locking with yours, filling you with a sense of calm and reassurance you were convinced nothing else in the world could. “Osita, talk to me baby. What are you nervous about?” 

You flapped your arms up before planting them over your face, burying your head in your hands in embarrassment, your words muffled from underneath your palms. “What am I nervous about? Not to stroke your ego any more than it needs to be, but you have a huge dick, Jav. I’m also guessing this isn’t your first time, and it is for me, and you being the first giant dick to ever enter my ass has me a little nervous.” You rambled, your thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than your brain could process them. “I really want to, I just don’t want it to not be good for you or for you to be upset if we stop or- I don’t know. I don’t want you to be mad about it if I’m the reason for- I- I’m probably overthinking it, I’m sorry.” You let out another deep exhale, averting your gaze from Javi’s staring down at the bed. 

This time, it was Javi’s turn to connect the dots, taking a moment to wonder why you were so worried about making him upset before putting the pieces together, his prediction making him clench his jaw in frustration. “Paul wanted to do it and you said no and he was a fucking asshole to you about it, wasn’t he?” 

Your head instantly shot up, swiveling around towards Javi’s agitated grimace, your face almost as shocked as Javi’s was when you had asked him if he had wanted to do this in the first place. “How… Javi, how did you-” 

“That motherfucker… he didn’t hurt you did he? I swear to God if he did, I’ll fucking fly up to Chicago right now and I’ll-” 

“Jav, Jav, cool your jets, killer.” You laughed softly, pressing your hand to his cheek to try and ground him before he really was on the next flight to Illinois. “No, he never did anything. He said that he wanted to and it kinda came out of the blue- I didn’t really want to at the time, especially not with him. He kept asking and asking and I would tell him no and he got so mad about it. Turns out that was around the time he started cheating on me anyways, and became an even bigger dickhead than he already was. But I always felt so guilty, and that it was my fault he was upset because I didn’t want to. I don’t know- I- I guess maybe this has stuck with me way more than it probably should have.” You could feel your voice shrinking, your eyes darting away once again, mortified by the fact that you completely ruined the moment by bringing up your shitty ex and his blatant lack of respect. “Sorry, I don’t know why we’re talking about this I-“ 

Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Javi’s lips were on yours, swallowing the rest of your words as your mouths met with a passionate intensity, letting his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer, caging his chest against yours. “Hermosa, you know I would never be mad at you about something like that, right? I love you, Osita, you have nothing to apologize for. All I ever want is to make you feel good, baby. Fuck, that gets me off more than anything else. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” 

“I trust you, Javi.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, lips grazing over his, giving him a gentle nod of reassurance. “I want you to.” 

You could audibly hear the gulp Javi had let out, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he let out a low groan, tightening the grip he had around your waist. “Want me to what, sweet girl? I wanna hear you say it, baby.” His lips began to travel down your jawline towards your neck, hot and wet presses languidly making their way to your collarbone as he tugged at the end of your shirt, snaking his hands up the soft skin of your stomach. You could feel the heat building in your core, letting out a soft moan as his hands palmed at your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between the tips of his fingers. 

“I want you to fuck my ass, Javi.” 

With that, his hands were shuffling your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed before letting his kisses make their way down your newly exposed skin, letting his tongue flick along each nipple before letting his gaze lock with yours, a small smirk spreading across his face. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, Hermosa. Gonna take good care of you, baby, I swear.” 

“I know.” You nodded, staring back at the hunger pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, practically squirming in the sheets of your bed from the throbbing between your legs, feeling the slick almost dripping down your thighs from just how turned on you were. The grin on Javi’s face had become devilish, biting down on his bottom lip as he snaked his hand down your front, tugging at the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs before running a finger through your slit, already drenching him with your arousal. 

“Turn around, baby. Hands and knees, okay?” You could hear the subtle smugness in his tone, giving you a playful squeeze as he grabbed your hips, flipping you over face down on the mattress, making you squeal. You did Javi one better, laying your chest flat against the sheets, lifting your ass up in the air and giving it a little shake, Javi’s hands instantly kneading at the soft flesh in front of him, digging his fingertips deeper into your skin, feeling his hot breath hovering over your cunt. 

Suddenly, you felt a long, wide strip of his tongue through your folds, pressing hard and intensely along your clit before diving in like a man starved, lapping you up as he began to eat you out from behind. Each stroke of his tongue was more persistent than the last, the grip of his hands on your hips pulling your heat closer to his face as he licked and sucked at your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of your slick and his saliva coating your inner thighs. His feverish pace already had you fisting at the bedsheets, whimpering and moaning as his mouth worked along your dripping core, making you gasp even further when you felt his tongue begin to travel up towards your tight ring of muscle. 

“Oh holy fuck- Javi, oh my god, baby. Fuck me, oh shit.” You whimpered as Javi’s tongue swirled along your puckered hole, dancing around the edges before dipping inside, the sensation making you shudder in pleasure, feeling Javi’s low hum of approval deep in the back of his throat. If that wasn’t enough, one of the hands that had a tight grip on your ass was now collecting the slick dripping from your entrance, his fingers tracing through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit, the added stimulation immediately making the tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. As he worked at your hole, the pads of his fingers circling your sensitive bundle of nerves you could feel your breath becoming ragged, letting out a few more shaky exhales before your orgasm crashed through you, crying out into the soft fabric of the sheets, pleasure and euphoria flooding your body. 

As you came down from your high, Javi let his hands slide gently up and down your sides, pressing soft kisses along your back until he had made his way up your shoulder blades and neck, whispering tenderly into your ear. “Such a good girl for me, Osita. Came so hard letting me eat out that pretty little ass of yours. You want me to keep going?” 

“Fuck yes, oh my god Javi, please.” You whimpered, shaking your head frantically as you looked back at Javi, already sitting back on his knees to lift his shirt over his head before sitting up to kick off his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free, precum glistening and weeping from his tip, considering how painfully hard he had been since even the thought of getting to fuck your ass. 

You could feel his body hovering over yours, hands sliding up and down your sides before grabbing at your ass again, placing tender kisses on each cheek before leaning over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, pulling out the bottle of lube and setting it next to him. His hands roamed to your core once again, two fingers dipping into your cunt, curling to hit the soft, spongy spot inside you that already had you moaning again. 

It wasn’t long until his fingers were substituted for his cock, running his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal along his length before slowly pushing inside your pussy, already so wet and worked up, that even with sweet sting of his stretch, he still slid in with ease, setting a steady, even pace as one hand dug into your hip, the other reaching over to grab the bottle of lube, popping open the cap with a click and letting the cool liquid drip over your tight hole, making you gasp. You could feel the pads of his fingers pressing at the entrance to your ass, gently teasing you open with one finger, breeching up to his knuckle, the combination of both his finger and cock inside you making you whimper in pleasure. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck, you’re already so fucking tight around my finger. You want another one in there, baby?” Javi mewled, prodding his finger deeper into your hole as he continued to thrust into you, his strokes slow and steady, but still punching deep into your g-spot with each thrust of his hips against the back of your thighs. 

“Yes- oh fuck- yes, oh my god.” You weren’t really quite sure how your brain was still even managing to form words at this point, the warm feeling that had been growing inside you spreading to every inch of your body. The pad of Javi’s second finger teased at your tight hole, collecting ample amounts of you slick and lube before pushing in to join the first, the thickness of both of his fingers making you clench even tighter around his cock and digits as you cried out in delight. 

“Shhhhhh, I know, sweet girl. Relájate (relax) baby, I’ve got you.”  

You could already feel your second orgasm starting to build again, heat beginning to bloom in your belly from the rhythmic pounding of Javi’s dick punching against your g-spot and his fingers prodding at the nerve endings of your ring of muscle, already feeling so full from the stretch of both holes. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh fuck- Javi, I’m gonna cum again, fuckahhhhhhh-” You cried out, letting your second orgasm hit you even harder than your first, clenching down around Javi’s cock and fingers as you grabbed at handfuls of your bedsheets, trying to ground yourself as the intensity of your pleasure ripped through you. 

“There you go, Hermosa. That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Did so good for me.” He cooed, gently pulling out both his cock and fingers, the emptiness making you shutter as Javi pressed tender, soft kisses down your back before making his way up your neck and nipping at your ear. “You think you’re ready for me, Osita? If not, it’s okay, I only wanna do what you want, mi amor (my love).” 

You took another few ragged breaths to compose yourself, unsure how your brain was even managing to function at this point as you came down from your high, trembling in delight. You nodded before you could speak, Javi letting out a low groan as he sucked at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy against your skin. 

“Need to hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” 

“Fuck my ass, Javi. I want you to fuck my ass, please baby.” You whined, whimpering your words against the soft fabric of your sheets, desperate for more, needing to feel all of him inside you in a way you hadn’t before. 

Javi let out an audible groan as he pulled back, letting his hands roam up your body and back to the lube resting on the bed, once again, popping open the cap and squirting some of the liquid into his palm as he fisted his dick, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your tight hole. “You promise you’ll tell me if you want me to stop?” 

You shook your head rapidly, fingers already gripping into the pillow in front of you as you braced yourself for Javi to enter, feeling his tip press against your tight ring of muscle. Suddenly, you could feel the sensation of Javi breeching your entrance, making you gasp at just how full you already felt as he had barely made his way inside you. Javi pushed further in, leaving you practically breathless from the stinging stretch of his cock filling you as he paused halfway, leaning over to check on you. 

“Oh fuck me- You okay, sweet girl?” 

“Mhhmmmmmm. Fuck Javi, you feel so big. Holy shit, baby. Oh fuck.” You gulped, squeezing around Javi’s length as he inched deeper and deeper inside of you, your clit and cunt throbbing as he filled you, the newfound sensation making you see stars. You were so focused on how you were feeling, you had barely noticed how tightly Javis fingertips were gripping into the soft flesh of your ass, like he was bracing himself for dear life as he sunk further and further into your tight hole. 

While Javi had found himself in this position with other women a handful of times before, he had never come close to feeling the same way about anyone the way he did about you- He had been dreaming about the day that you agreed to let him fuck your ass, and now finding himself inside you, knowing he would be the first and the last to ever have you like he was right now, had him on the brink of busting any second if he wasn’t careful. Javi had never been more thankful that you couldn’t see his face, because he knew he looked absolutely wrecked and was struggling to keep the ounce of composure he had left as you gripped around his cock like a vice. 

“Javi, oh shit- Javi, you can move baby.” You moaned, adjusting to his fullness, the initial pain quickly transforming to burning hot pleasure as you gave Javi the green light to keep going. After a few seconds, when Javi had said nothing and hadn’t moved at all, you spoke again, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you. “Javi, I’m good, you can-” 

“I know, I know, fuck- sorry, baby. Jesus Christ- you’re so fucking tight, Hermosa, fuck me. Give me a second or I’m gonna fuckin’ bust right now.” Javi replied, halfway between a whimper and a moan as he firmly grasped your hips, carefully setting a slow pace as he began to thrust in and out of your ring of muscle, shocked to feel how quickly heat was beginning to bloom in your belly once again, his length languidly sliding in and out of your asshole, filling you and striking new nerve endings you had never felt before making you quickly begin to come undone. 

Your legs began to tremble, grasping at the mattress to brace yourself as you felt your clit throb and cunt clench as the coil in your belly tightened further and further, the lewd noises of your moans and grunts filling the room. 

“Javi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, baby I’m so close again, holy fuck.” You cried out, as even just the slightest pick up of Javi’s pace had you reeling closer and closer to the edge of your release. Javi freed one of his hands, snaking it between your legs to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves, already swollen and pulsing from your first two orgasms, and now even more responsive as the pads of his fingers circled against it. 

Javi wanted desperately to hold out for you and make you cum as many times as you wanted to just like this, but he knew damn well the moment you came and clamped down even harder around his cock than you already were, he was a fucking goner and going right along with you. He needed to give you one more before he also came embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Fuck Osita, fuck- I’m not gonna last much longer either, baby. Need you- oh shit- need you to give me one more, pretty girl. Cum for me, Hermosa, I’ve got you.” 

With only a few more strokes and circles around your clit, you were cumming so hard, you were honestly convinced you had blacked out. Your whole body shook as you wailed in delight, squeezing around Javi’s dick so hard it was only seconds before he was following suit, letting a ragged groan escape through his gritted teeth as you milked him of every last drop, Javi bracing himself for dear life with the grasp he had around your hips as he finished. 

Javi slumped over you, the two of you breathing so heavily it sounded more like you had just finished a triathlon more than anything else. He let out a deep hiss as he pulled out, taking a moment to admire his work as he watched his spend drip out your tight hole as your body collapsed onto the mattress. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been laying there before you were finally able to wrangle the brain power to speak again, and even then, the only words that you were able to manage were a quiet “holy fucking shit…” 

Javi flopped down, laying on his back next to you as you rolled over, both of your faces bright and blissed as you stared at one another, almost unsure of what to say. 

“Are you okay?” Javi asked, gently cupping your flushed cheek in his palm. 

“Am I okay? Javi… Holy fuck. I don’t think I have ever cum so hard in my entire life. I honestly thought I blacked out there for a second. Baby… That was, fuck, that was insane.” You half laughed to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fucking great. Holy shit. Sorry I couldn’t last longer, I didn’t think I was gonna go that fast but you felt so fucking good. Thank you, Osita.” 

“Thank you? For what?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful poke on the chest as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“For this. For trusting me.” 

“Javier Jesús Peña…” You smirked, propping yourself up on your arm to get a better look at him, “I trust you with my life. More than anyone I’ve ever met. I should be the one thanking you for so graciously taking my butt virginity. Wouldn’t want anyone else in there besides you.” 

The two of you burst into laughter, Javi practically letting out a snort as he rolled his eyes at your ridiculous comment. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. C’mon, let's go shower before your cum sits in my asshole any longer and I get pregnant with your butt baby.” You snickered as you rolled off the bed, making your way to the bathroom. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… Butt baby? Seriously?” He snorted, following behind you, giving you a playful smack on your ass, scooping you up to hike you over his shoulder and fireman carry you to the shower, making you squeal. “You’re so fucking weird.” 

“Weirdo you love enough to put your dick in my ass and make your wife, so that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled as Javi set you down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, giving him a little shrug before reaching into the shower to turn on the water. 

“And what a fucking lucky man I am.” 

Ever since starting his job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department, Javi had been able to count on a few things every morning when he got into work. Sheryl at the front desk would greet him with a half hearted “Good morning, Javier” , the smell of shitty work coffee would be brewing in the break room, and Agent Carter and Miller already arguing about something stupid at their desks instead of working on anything that actually needed to get done. That’s why when Javi made his way into work on Monday morning and was not greeted by any of those things, he knew his day was getting thrown for a loop- he just wasn’t quite sure how yet. 

“It was their idea, not mine, believe me.” Sheryl grumbled, rolling her eyes as she nodded towards the path to Javi’s office, holding her hands up in defense as if to prove she had nothing to do with whatever was going on beyond her desk. Javi paused, tilting his head and scrunching his brow in confusion at Sheryl before letting out a sigh, and hesitantly making his way back to find out what in the world she was talking about. 

He was surprised by the lack of Miller and Carter’s presence in their desk chairs, and the unusual silence filling the office as Javi turned his head, wondering where everyone was. He peered over the cubicles, looking for any sign of life, until a strange sound caught his attention from behind the door of his office. 

Woof, woof, woof! 

Javi shook his head, convinced he must be hearing things until the low bark repeated, followed by a hush of anxious voices whispering around the corner. 

“Oh no, shhhhhh! Shit, I didn’t think he was gonna bark.” 

“Well it’s a fucking dog, Carter, what the hell did you think it was gonna, do, meow?”

“Maybe he didn’t hear it.” 

“I highly doubt that, dumbass. God, he’s gonna be fucking pissed.” 

“Your idea, not mine.” 

Even though he couldn’t see them, Miller and Carter’s worried whispers were enough to let Javi know he wasn’t imagining the barking coming from behind his office door. Letting out a deep sigh, which sounded a lot more like a groan, Javi carefully twisted open the doorknob to his workspace, only to be greeted by a large, shaggy and very dirty Golden Retriever staring back at him with big brown eyes, happily wagging its tail and shaking excitedly at Javi’s presence. Although Javi had heard the bark from behind his door, it didn’t stop him from doing a double take from the dog now residing in his office, running his hand over his face in a confused frustration as to how and why Miller and Carter had already managed to make his Monday morning a pain in his ass. 

“Why the fuck is there a dog in my office?” Javi half shouted, making Carter and Miller sheepishly appear from around the corner with guilty looks on their faces, avoiding eye contact with Javi as he glared through the two of them, wondering how the hell they were going to try and talk themselves out of this one. 

“Hey Peña, uh, I uh… Listen Miller was the one who brought him in, and he was so cute that I wasn’t not gonna do anything about it and-” 

“Oh, way to throw me under the fucking bus, Carter!” Agent Miller huffed, cutting Carter off in attempts to let the blame completely fall on him. “You agreed we should keep him here so that we could-” 

“Okay, that still doesn’t explain why the fuck there’s a dog in my office.” Javi groaned, cutting off Carter and Miller before they found themselves in a pointless arguing match about how and why there was now a dog happily leaning itself against Javi’s leg, his tail shaking back and forth, completely enamored by Javi. 

It was taking everything in Javi not to reach down and pet him to try and prove a point to Carter and Miller that they had astronomically fucked up the rest of his plans for the morning, but the dog was sure as hell adorable and sweet as could be. 

“Okay, well, I was driving into work this morning, and as I was making my way down that back road past the cattle ranch a few blocks down from here, this guy ran out in the road. Thank God I saw him when I did. I stopped, got out, and he came right up to me, but there was obviously no one with him. He looked relieved that he’d found me. Poor guy is dirty and skinny as hell. He hopped right into my car and ate the rest of my McGriddle which I was kinda pissed about, but I can’t blame ‘em.” Miller sighed, now crouching down to give the dog some scratches on the head before continuing on with his story. “So I went to some of the houses on the street and no one had ever seen this dog before. I called Webb County Animal Control to see if anyone had reported  a missing dog that looked like him, but no one had. I asked if I should take him to the shelter to see if anyone would come for him, but the lady on the phone said if no one’s reported him missing, they probably wouldn’t come for them.” 

“Well tell him what else, Miller.” Carter encouraged, trying to aid in Miller’s defense as he rose back up, standing next to his partner. 

“When I called the animal shelter to ask them what to do, the woman I talked to said the shelter is so full, that if we brought him in and no one claimed him within the next two weeks, that they’d…” Miller trailed off, him and Carter both grimacing, unable to finish the rest of his sentence as he looked down at the gleeful, furry face staring back up at him. “Well, let’s just say that things weren’t gonna look so good for him. I couldn’t bring myself to drop him off, and I wasn’t just gonna fucking leave him, so, I uh- I brought him here.” 

Javi let out a deep sigh, burying his hands in his face for a moment before rubbing his temples, understanding why Miller had done what he did, but nonetheless, still frustrated that now he had become wrapped up in solving a missing dog case. 

“So what? Are you gonna keep him?” Javi questioned, finally giving in to bend down and give the dog a few pats on his side, feeling just how skinny and boney he was as his hand met his belly. 

“Oh no, I can’t keep him. Apartment doesn’t allow dogs. I would if I could.” Miller admitted, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, feeling guilty for his lack of helpful response. 

“What about you? You keeping the dog?” Javi asked, looking over at Carter, giving him a little shrug, hoping he was the solution to his temporary canine problem. 

“Um, no. Sorry. I’m allergic. He’s cute as hell but my eyes have been itching ever since he got here.” 

“So what, he’s just gonna live here? C’mon you guys, really?” Javi grumbled, now crouching down next to the dog, getting a better look at his begging eyes and goofy grin under his panting tongue, giving Javi a few licks on the face in excitement as his tail began to wag rapidly from Javi’s closeness. 

Javi couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as the dog lapped against his face, wrapping his hands around the dog’s head and giving it a playful rub to get the dog to stop before staring back at the sweet, sad eyes staring back at him. He scratched under the dog’s chin before it was snuggling up next to him, comfortably plopping himself down over Javi’s feet and letting out a content little grumble as his tail continued to thump against the floor in joy. 

Javi closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. A deep sigh. Not because he didn’t like this dog. Hell, not even because he was really that mad at the two office idiots for bringing the dog here this morning. Javi let out a long, exasperated sigh, because he could feel the willpower he had preached to you about holding out on a dog until the new house- a conversation he had just had with you last night- was absolutely crumbling. 

He couldn’t come home with a dog, right? He had just spent all of last night convincing you that the apartment wouldn’t be a good place for a dog. But… that was for a puppy. This was a full grown dog. A calm one, at that. A fucking cute one at that. God, it had been 5 minutes and this dog was already attached at the hip to him, and it was probably fair to say that Javi had gotten just as attached, if not more. Carter and Miller were right, with the shape the dog was in, it really did look like no one had been taking care of him, or had any plans to come and find him, and Javi couldn’t bear the thought of sending the dog off to the shelter, knowing his inevitable fate. 

Fuck.

“Okay, well, do you know anything else about him? Are you sure that there’s no one looking for him?” Javi grunted as he pushed himself back up to stand, trying to keep his cool as he looked over at Carter and Miller, their eyes still peeled to the ground in hopes the lack of direct eye contact would lessen their chances of a complete reaming from Javi. 

“No, boss. Only other thing we could find about him was the little tag on his collar, which wasn’t helpful at all, because it only had his name.” Carter shrugged, peeking up at Javi, surprised by the even keel of his tone. Javi bent back down, the dog immediately rolling over on his back and exposing his belly for Javi to pet as he reached towards the dog’s neck, gently tugging at the tethered collar under his tangled fur to read the poorly engraved tag attached, letting out an even bigger sigh and shaking his head in disbelief at the name. 

Bear. 

Of fucking course. As if the universe needed to send him another sign. Of fucking course the dog’s name was the same as his nickname for you, Osita- little bear. 

Javi couldn’t help but laugh to himself, running his hand over his face once again. “Shit. You sure no one’s looking for him?” 

Both Carter and Miller shook their heads, crossing their arms over their chests in sad disappointment at Bear, laying sprawled across Javi’s feet. Letting out one last reluctant exhale, Javi looked back at the pair, nervously awaiting his response before he spoke. 

“If… If no one calls looking for him by the end of the day… I’ll take him home with me.” 

Carter and Miller’s faces lit up in shock and delight, staring at Javi, dumbfounded by what they had just heard. “I mean… Fuck, well… that was way easier than I thought it was gonna be.” Miller half grumbled to himself, glancing over at Carter, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I obviously don’t have any dog shit at home so I’m gonna have to leave early today to get some, so you two idiots are gonna have to finish up the rest of the paperwork I needed to do this afternoon, we clear?” 

“Yeah, yup- Absolutely. Will do.” The two nodded in agreement, still in shock that the worst they had gotten from their boss from dropping a stray dog off in his office was the rest of his paperwork for the day. 

“Fuck me. Alright, c’mon Bear.” Javi sighed, pushing open his office door, Bear, happily trotting along behind him, tail wagging in delight as Carter and Miller stared back at each other, frozen in shock that they, with very little convincing, had gotten their boss to happily take their furry problem into his own hands. 

If the fact that Bear wasn’t cute as can be was enough to win over Javi, he was also the sweetest, most relaxed dog he’d had ever met. Bear was perfectly content to lay down next to Javi’s desk, letting out content grumbles and sighs as he slept and Javi worked, sprawled out across the floor. Bear also seemed to love everyone he met, joyfully making his rounds around the station with Javi after a failed attempt at leaving him behind in his office, immediately caving to Bear’s sad, lonely whines and big brown eyes from behind the glass of his office window. Around 2:00 PM, after Javi had given Bear the better half of his turkey sandwich for lunch, he found himself just as hungry as that poor dog probably was this morning, deciding to cut his day short to get himself some food, and gather whatever else he needed before bringing Bear back to the apartment. 

Javi thanked whatever higher power that the woman working at the pet store this afternoon was not the same woman he had adamantly convinced last night that he was not coming with a dog, because in the back seat of his truck, sat a dog he was now bringing home. The woman working at the store had helped Javi to find everything he needed for Bear and probably then some, Javi more than thankful for her patience and advice, feeling overwhelmed by what to get for a dog that had landed in his care only a few short hours ago.  

After 2 trips up your apartment stairs to drop off the bed, food, treats and toys Javi had gotten, he made one final trip back for Bear, who had glady hopped out of the truck and followed Javi back to your place after a quick pee on the bush in the parking lot, leaving Javi very thankful the dog had found a spot to relieve himself that wasn’t on his shoe. 

“Well, welcome home, I guess.” Javi chuckled as Bear busted through the apartment door, tail wagging at a propeller like speed as he meandered through the space, sniffing and exploring around the kitchen and living room, before wandering back to the bags from the pet store Javi had set on the ground, giving them a little prod with his snout before sitting next to them, looking up at Javi as if to ask if he could have the food and treats that were inside. “Well… I guess a little more food couldn’t hurt, right?” 

There were very few times where Javi was home from work before you, and when he did, he normally told you before he left, or called you at work to let you know- so when you pulled into the parking lot to see Javi’s truck next to your empty parking space, it was safe to say you were a bit perplexed. You quickly unpacked your bags from your car, making your way up to the apartment, trying to rationalize with your confusion and nerves as to why Javi had beaten you home. As you unlocked your door, you gently pushed it open, now even more confused by the muffled grunts and swearing coming from down the hallway. Dropping your things at the entryway, you quickly began working your way through the apartment to figure out what was going on before you almost tripped and fell over a large dog bed now in the middle of your living room. 

“What the hell…” You murmured to yourself, your brow scrunching in bewilderment as you caught your step over the soft, plushy surface, doing a double take to realize that what had almost taken you to the ground was a dog bed. Looking over, you then noticed the several bags from the local pet store, now even more puzzled as your attention shifted back to the end of the hallway, hearing Javi’s voice as well as the sound of running water and frantic splashing. 

“Goddamnit, will you just stay still please? We’re almost done, bud.” 

Almost sprinting to the bathroom, you pushed open the door to find a pile of towels spread across the floor, Javi kneeling over the side of the tub, shirt absolutely soaked as he held the shower handle towards a goofy, wet, golden retriever dancing around in the other end of the tub as he saw you. 

“Uhhhhhh, Javi… Why is there a dog in our bathtub?” You stood stunned in the doorway, your presence startling Javi as he spun around, dropping the shower handle, making it spray over the walls, leading the dog to playfully bark and shake as it hopped over the ledge of the tub to greet you. 

“No, Bear! Come back here! Fuck. I uh- I can explain, I-” Javi stammered, scrambling to grab the flailing shower head before reaching for the dog to try and wrangle him back into the shower, the rest of his thought cut off by Bear taking one more step towards you before bracing himself for a giant shake, absolutely drenching you as you burst into laughter, wiping your now soaking face with the palms of your hands before reaching down to pet the cheerful dog, wagging his wet tail as he leaned up against your leg. 

You couldn’t help but let the smuggest grin spread across your face, now putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Bear, huh? You come up with that one?” You giggled, crouching down to greet who you now were presuming to be the newest resident of your household, rubbing his hands over his drenched, furry body, squealing as he licked all over your face. “I thought we couldn’t have a dog in the apartment, Jav, and I hate to break it to you, this is definitely a dog… very much in our apartment.” 

Javi let out a snort, rolling his eyes at you as he reached over to shut off the water, resting his back against the edge of the tub, propping his arms up over the sides as he braced himself to try and explain his current situation to you. “Well…” he grinned sheepishly as Bear paced back and forth between the two of you, his tail swaying side to side as he dripped puddles across the bathroom floor, “I got into work this morning and the first thing I saw was a fucking dog that Carter and Miller had dropped in my office after Miller found him on his drive in.” 

“Which I am assuming is this dog?” You laughed, gesturing towards the giddy Golden Retriever jaunting around the bathroom. 

“Yeah, this one. Miller said that he found him on a dirt road. Called animal control and no one had been looking for a dog that looked like him, and that when he called the shelter, they were so full, that if someone didn’t either come to get him or adopt him in the next couple weeks, that, well… they probably would have to… Fuck, Cater is allergic and Miller can’t have dogs at his place, and I- he’s so sweet, and I couldn’t just let him go so-” 

“So you bought out the better part of the pet store so he could live here with us?” You grinned, raising an eyebrow at Javi as Bear happily sat himself down in his lap, making Javi grunt at the weight of the dog plopping himself down across his legs. 

“I mean… I uh… I-” Javi mumbled, sheepishly looking down at Bear before looking back at you, doing your best to contain your laughter and giggles. “What, Hermosa?” Javi phrased it as a question, even though he already knew the answer- You were never going to let him live this down for the rest of his life. 

“And you thought you needed to be worried about me bringing a dog home without asking.  Does this mean we have a new member of the Peña family?” You smirked, making your way over to Javi and Bear, squatting down on the soaking bathroom floor next to them, pressing a playful peck onto Javi’s cheek as you gave Bear a big scratch. 

“If that’s okay with you.” 

“You’re lucky he’s cute, and you’re lucky you’re cute, too. Yes, of course it’s okay with me. Welcome to the family, Bear Peña.” 

The two of you smiled at each other as you sat on the bathroom floor, a damp and soggy Bear spread across your laps with the happiest and goofiest grin spread over his face, too. While coming home to find Javi wrestling a stray dog in your tub wasn’t exactly how you pictured welcoming the newest member of your family into your lives, in some strange way, it couldn’t have felt more perfect. Getting to grow and share your life together with Javi was all you could ever really ask for, even if that meant a Monday night, soaking wet from a dog bath gone wrong. 

“Okay, well, we should probably dry this goofball off and get his stuff all situated. Poor guy is probably exhausted after all of his adventures today, aren’t ya bud? Do you think we should put the dog bed in our room? I don’t want him to get scared during the night, but I’m not really sure if we should have him up on our bed, ya know?” 

As you pushed yourself up to stand, you waited for Javi’s response, only to be greeted by double the amount of big, brown puppy dog eyes now staring back at you as you turned around. Javi still said nothing, a guilty look growing across his and the dog’s, as you let out a deep sigh, wondering how in the world you were going to build up your immunity to another sweet face that made you crumble. 

“You already let him on the bed, didn’t you, Jav?” 

“.... Maybe.” 

“Like I said, the two of you are very lucky you’re cute.” 

Taglist:

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[xxnghtclls]

Flickering Lights

Chapter 2: A Tall, Pink Haired Man

Chapter (1/3)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

For tags and synopsis, please see Chapter 1!

Bam!

You slam the door shut behind you. Finally you’re home in your small apartment, still thinking about what happened in your office. Sitting down on one of your two chairs, you absentmindedly tap with your key into the surface of your kitchen table.

Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Who was that?” you mumble to yourself, while your leg is wiggling nervously. “Where and… why? Four eyes and four arms, too?”

A pause.

Tap. Tap.

“HOW?” you blurt out loudly and distort your face in confusion. Your brain is so tired.

Shaking your head, you decide to get up and get a hot shower.

-Monday me- is going to have a huge problem, leaving the office like this.

“This” meaning a broken window, a crack in the floor and the wall. Your computer is for the trashcan, too. A fucking mess.

Motherfucker. 

You kind of hope it was a dream, a hallucination or a lightning. Monday you will get back to your same old habit, going to work and writing emails, lists and calculations. And then Tuesday. And then Wednesday. Thursday. Friday.

Sigh.

Rashhhhh

You close the shower curtain in front of your face and turn on the water. Warm steamy drops are tickling your face and calming your nerves. Sleepiness washes over you with the steamy warmth and you’re quick to finish soaping you up. You let out a big yawn, as you turn off the water and step out. 

“Time for bed.” you sigh, before you brush your teeth and dry yourself. Taking your phone with you, you carry yourself up the ladder to your elevated sleeping space. The perks of living in tokyo.

Mini studio apartments.

Crawling onto the futon, you pull the blanket up to your nose. A last time you peek onto your phone, before your eyes shut themselves.

- 01:38 a.m. -

“Goodnight...” you mumble, before you fall asleep. “Stranger.”

♫ Up with the sun, gone with the wind, she always said I was lazy-

“The fuck?” you breathe into the darkness, still half asleep, as you peek onto your phone, trying not to get blind from your display brightness.

- 6:00 a.m. - 

“Ughhh shut up, Bob.” you groan, as you shut your alarm off. You must have forgotten to adjust the settings in your alarm to workweek only, after you had to get up for an out of schedule meeting last saturday. 

But, today is free.

You close your eyes and think about what you want to do today.

Get new earphones perhaps. Get groceries. Find out who…who…  

Zzzzz…

After a moment, you send another peek to your phone.

- 10:12 a.m. -

“Good morning sunshine.” you grumble to your sleepy self, before you yawn and stretch. “Sorry Bob, now you can sing.” you mumble and put on Bob Seger’s song that ripped you out of sleep earlier. 

-play-

“Travelin maan, love when I caan. Turn loose my hand ‘cause I’m goiingg.” you sing, as you’re making yourself some eggs for breakfast, checking your social media inbetween. You roll your eyes, as you read that there’s some unnecessary discourse over something unimportant AGAIN and you swear to yourself, that you’re going to delete that app sooner or later. It just makes you angry. 

Fucking idiots.

Your eggs are ready and you sit down, take a bite and text your bestie Mio. 

Oy. Akiba in 45 mins?

👍

Good. Need new headphones. Mine broke last night.

No wonder. Get some real ones.

You huff at her text.

“No way.” you smile, as you’re putting your phone away and shove the last bite of eggs into your mouth. You need to get dressed quickly, in order to catch the next train to Akihabara. 

On your trainride, you stare out of the window across from you. Listen to the railway and see the houses passing by, the sun shining onto the roofs, before the train goes underground again. Silhouettes and moving lights run along the window.

Moving lights. Flickering lights.

And suddenly you remember last night. 

What happened?

That creature, that… man. 

How unusual he looked and how his eyes pierced through your soul. 

Uncanny. 

You wonder if you should tell Mio about it. 

Maybe not…

Maybe it was a dream or a hallucination or a lightning after all.

…That rip in space definitely.

But what if he was not?

“Excuse me, is everything alright?” an elderly woman that’s sitting right next to you asks you. 

You must’ve zoned out, looking so concentrated… maybe even, as if you’re constipated or something. 

“No, I’m fine. Sorry- I mean, thank you.” you force a smile at her, before you pull out your phone to look busy at least.

And you start to scroll on your socials. 

And scroll.

And scroll. 

And scroll.

Not thinking anything, just remembering that man’s face. Those tattoos. The nose.

Kinda pretty nose, you think as your lips turn into a pout.

Two slits in his eyebrows.

That mask.

So interesti-

Wait what?

Interesting…?

Sigh.

…He is.

You get out at Suehirocho Station and walk to the next 7-eleven, the point where you’re going to meet with Mio. She’s not there yet, so you decide to walk in and buy an Onigiri. 

Only one? 

No, two. 

For later. 

Of course you open the first one immediately and bite into it. The first bite is always the best.

Goddamn.

You love it. Closing your eyes, to savour the taste, you stand in front of the store, enjoying the bliss.

“Oy, peanut!” Mio’s voice comes up behind you. You turn around and nudge your head to her, shooting her a look. 

“What’s up?” you say with your mouth full.

“Got one for me, too?” she eyes your Onigiri.

“No.” you bite into it another time.  

She cocks her eyebrows at you, probably already knowing that you bought two and that you don’t want to share, before a little pout cracks upon her lips.

“Get your own!” you complain, before she pokes her finger into your arm. 

“I’ll get you some snacks later!” she coos.

“Fine!” complain and offer her a bite of your last piece. 

“Mwuah hah hah!” she laughs deeply in excitement, before she gulps down the whole remaining Onigiri. “I know you love me.”

“Ehhh.” you sigh, letting your shoulders sink, disappointed that she ate it all.

“Sorry.” she brushes off her hands on her jacket. “Anyway, let’s go, my greedy little peanut.” she says, before she hooks her arm into yours. “Did you cut your hair?” 

You laugh her question off, as you both start to walk into the city.

While on the search for new 5000 yen headphones, you both keep bullying each other lovingly, laugh and talk about the week. No matter how exhausting your workweek is, she always manages to distract your mind, makes you feel not as lonely. She really is the light of your week. 

You don’t really know how it came to this. To feel like this in this city of millions. You used to go out, to dance and fuck a guy every now and then. But maybe it was just the start of how you feel now. The nights of clubbing grew rare, the nights at the computer and phone listening to music grew more frequent. Because nothing could really satisfy it. This hole in your heart. Listening to music helps. Spending time with Mio helps, but only to a degree. Because you wish for a change in your life. More than work and eat and shower and sleep. More than everyday life.

However, you decide not to tell her about what happened last night. Maybe you’ve gone crazy after all. Even if you’re not, you still feel odd about it. Feel, like it might be the change you yearned for, an adventure. 

Feel like it only belongs to you.

Quickly you find some new headphones and earn a mocking joke from the side, while Mio continues to buy herself a new phone case. Huge, pink and with little glittery stones and charms.

So ugly.

“Don’t look at me like that, when you’re the one who walked around with a Hello Kitty phone for the longest time!” she complains.

“At least I wasn’t mistaken for a disco ball.” you sneer at her.

You walk to another store to get your promised snacks and after a while, when the hottest gossip is done being discussed, you catch yourself getting silent inbetween.

Because your mind wanders off.

Because you remember.

Those eyes.

Dangerous.

Sometimes she notices and throws you a glance, but you just wave it off, excuse it with sleepless nights because of work. 

And she buys it.

At least you hope she does.

“I need to get home.“ you sigh, as you arrive at the next train-station. “I still need to get some groceries. I’m gonna gonna see you next week?”

She sighs too and stops in her tracks. You turn and look to her, seeing her face turning serious. Suddenly the energy shifts. You halt and frown at her in confusion.

Something’s wrong.

“What?” you ask. 

“I need to tell you something.” she looks to the ground and it makes you worried.

“What is it?” you poke her shoulder. 

She hesitates.

“You’re gonna hate it…” she mumbles and your heart starts pounding. You hate situations like this. Last time she acted like this, she told you she lost the one pair of very expensive headphones you bought in your life. You hated her for it, but you learned your lesson. 

Crossing your arms, you keep staring at her, almost holding your breath, trying to remember what kind of item you possibly could’ve lent her recently.

A pause.

“I’ll be on a work trip.-”

“Jesus.” you complain, as you exhale loudly in relief, rolling your eyes.

“For the next week.” she continues, a smug smirk on her face. So proud, knowing to have you fooled so good. “Coming back on Sunday night.”

You sigh.

“I’ll manage!” you exclaim snobbish into her face, but deep down, you know it’s gonna be hard. You’re not gonna see her for two weeks and you’re gonna miss her. A lot. Next to the fact that you can’t meet up with her next weekend, she’ll be busy too and not be able to text you much during the week either.

She punches your shoulder, before you grab her sleeve.

“Come.” you tug on it. “We gotta wish you a safe travel and return.” you mumble, as you drag her with you.

“Huh?” she exclaims, but gives up and willingly walks down to the underground with you. 

“I didn’t go to the Meiji shrine in a while. Let’s hang up an Ema there.” you fiddle with her sleeve, as you’re both sitting next to each other in the train towards Yoyogi Station.

“Is everything alright?” she asks and you notice real concern in her voice. 

She knows something’s up.

“I think I need to go out more, Mio.” you mumble. “If you’re not here to cheer me up, I need to see someone else then.”

“Sounds as if you’re already have someone in mind.” she jokes and you feel the heat rising in your ears, feel caught.

“Yeah.” you fake-laugh, before you try to change the topic. “Where are you going next week?”

“We’re going to have some meetings in Gifu. But also team-building events, this sort of stuff.” she says, while fiddling with her new phone case and you nod.

“Never went there.” you respond. “Tell me if it’s nice, yes?” 

“Sure, little peanut.” she smiles, before she looks back at you. You smile back before, looking around in the wagon.

“Maybe you should go out while I’m gone.” she says, making you look back at her. “Try to focus less on work and have some fun. Treat yourself.” she punches you in your arm again. 

Hard.

“Ow!”

“It’s just work after all.”

“I shall.” you hiss, while you rub your hand over the soon-to-be bruise, as the train stops at Harajuku-Station.

After a short walk, Mio and you arrive at the entrance of the shrine. It’s busy, just like the last time you visited, but as soon as you walk through the Torii, it grows calmer with each second. You might not believe, that in you’re a city of millions, when you walk through the beautiful area around the shrine. Trees and plants seal yourself off the loud noises of the streets. 

Quiet.

Maybe I need a vacation.

“I’m thirsty.” Mio longingly says, as you walk past the huge Sake barrels. 

You snort at her comment.

“Mio Mio Mioooo.” you squeak like a bird. “You called me greedy.”

“That’s what you are.” she chimes. “I know you still have that second Onigiri in your jacket.”

“Shut your mouth.” you smile, while you look up to see the sunlight shine through the branches of the trees, as a gentle breeze flows against your faces. It’s beautiful at this place, but somehow, a weird feeling grows in your gut. 

After a ten minute walk along the shrines nature, you arrive at the camphor trees where the Emas are hanged upon. Mio steps forward, reading some of the wishes that are already hung up. After purchasing a little wooden plate yourself, you tipple to the desks and start writing. 

For my lovely Mio. 

Please let her have the safest travel, a lot of fun and a more safer return to her little peanut.

You draw a little raccoon in the corner, since that’s her favourite animal and turn around, ready to hang it up, only to notice, that Mio holds a little wooden plate in her own hand as well.

“No! I already got one!” you wiggle it into her direction, before you hang it up. 

She steps into the corner of your eyes, hanging her own plate right next to yours. You’re about to complain that she bought an unnecessary one, as your eyes catch what she wrote.

For my lovely y/n.

Please let her have the most fun, good food and a little adventure, until her Mio returns.

“Is this for me?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Bro, it’s your name right there!” she sneers as if you’re stupid, tapping her knuckle loudly against the plate.

Your heart warms up, before you continue in a serious voice.

“You forgot to draw a cat.” 

“I cannot draw a cat.”

“Bullshit. Everyone can draw a cat.” you wave her off and turn around, only to see-

Oh shit.

You freeze in your spot, as you see that tall man from last night standing in front of the holy praying area of the shrine. His back is turned to you, but his height, his black cloak and the pink spiky hair is proof enough.

A sinister energy reaches your feet and crawls up your legs.

“What’s up?” Mio asks, as she notices how you froze in your spot, tugging at your sleeve.

Your heart starts pounding. 

Badum. Badum. Badum.

In the corner of your eyes, you see Mio catching focus on that man herself.

“I’ve never seen a guy that tall-“

“Me neither.” you mumble, while you keep staring. In the corners of your eye, you see many people walking around the mean, peeking and staring and mumbling about his unusual appearance.

He walks up the stairs, shoving a middle aged woman out of his way. She tipples, looses balance and-

Bam!

falls down the stairs, while he’s stepping closer to the doors that lead to the praying area. The huge doors, that now don’t seem to tall in comparison anymore.

“Disrespectful asshole!” Mio exclaims in disgust, as an appalled gasp is heard from the by-standing people and the feeling in your gut grows into a huge lump. Others rush to the woman to help her back up, and Mio wants to go forward too, but you grab her sleeve, holding her back. You stay silent, as you keep watching the man intensely, seeing him lay his right hand on the wooden surface of the saisen-bako that’s placed inbetween the doors. People start to talk to him, try to get his attention, but he is ignoring them, concentrated on doing what he came to do. 

Your eyes are fixated on his hand, a tattooed black ring decorating his wrist. The people around him grow louder and louder, but the sound grows mute in your ears. Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you watch how the wooden surface starts to vibrate, the lines between his hand and the wood start to blur. A deep humming starts to vibrate in your ear, just like last night.

Mio notices your trance and calls you, but you hear without hearing. 

Whatever he’s doing, it has you in his grip.

Mio calls you again, louder and snips her fingers in front of your face to wake you from your trance but you keep being fixated on his hand until-

“Hey!” another man loudly exclaims and tugs on his cloak to get his attention. Without even looking, the pink haired man flicks his left hand and suddenly the throat of the other man bursts with blood and his head falls from his shoulders.

Fwip! 

Pap.. Pap… pap.

Down the stairs it falls and rolls. Your heart drops and everyone starts to scream, as your eyes widen in horror. Blood splatters everywhere, as the head rolls and comes to a halt next to the woman, coating the holy grounds with red essence.

“Y/N!!” Mio calls your name again, now very loud and clear, making your body finally start moving.

You meet Mio’s eyes and grab her wrist, before you run towards the entrance, already seeing security guards run into the opposite direction. Other people run in panic as well, shoving you out of their way, almost make you stumble. For some reason, shortly before you can run through the huge gate, you need to turn around.

Turn around.

The time slows down.

Exhale.

You look.

Focus.

And he turns around, too. Making your eyes meet his for the split of a second, before you turn back forward again, running through the gate.

Inhale.

Sirens are already howling in the distance, as Mio and you and many other people run through the shrine grounds in order to get back to the entrance you came from. Your heart is pounding in your throat and your throat is as dry as sand, as you finally reach the streets. A glance to Mio and a nod from her confirm that you will not separate your ways right now. She’ll come with you.

Bam!

Zschk Zing!

You lock your front door behind you, as Mio sighs loudly, slumping down on one of your kitchen chairs.

“Jesus.” you sigh under your breath, your hands still lingering on the door-lock, your eyes staring into nothing. The image of that mans head rolling down those stairs keeps replaying in your head. 

“Gonna make tea.” Mio says, before she gets up and fills the cattle.

You blink and shake your head, before you turn around and sit down on the other chair on the adjacent corner of the table. 

You have seen some bad stuff on the internet before. Multiple times unfortunately. However it’s still different to see such things in real life.

“The police will get him right?” she asks. 

“Maybe they shot him on sight.” you mumble. “Most probably.” you try to assure her and yourself.

She hums and the kettle starts to whistle.

Louder and louder.

Louder and louder.

Until Mio takes it from the stove and fills your cups with water.

You take a sip and the warmth flows through your body, making you feel better in an instant. 

“I still got no groceries.” you mumble into your cup.

“Let’s just wait a bit. It’ll be safe in a few hours.” she mumbles into hers.

A pause.

And you ponder.

“He wouldn’t have slashed that man, if he let him do his thing in peace.” you sip absentmindedly. “Whatever he was doing.” you add and she glances over to you, cocking an eyebrow.

“If he didn’t shove that woman down the stairs, he wouldn’t have been bothered.” she responds annoyed. “Nothing he was doing can justify this.”

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

“Doesn’t matter now, they probably shot him.” she sighs. 

Your eyebrows twitch at the thought. Somehow, you don’t feel like it’s true.

A few silent hours go by, sipping tea, trying to calm down. Both of you avoid to read the news, try to distract you from what just happened, talk about anything, except about what happened at the shrine today.

And somehow, it works. They probably shot him after all.

The sun sets and it grows dark outside. Mio taps on her phone.

- 10:13 p.m. - 

“I think I should go now.” she sighs. “Gotta get up early tomorrow.” 

You inhale deeply, knowing it’s the last time you’re gonna see her for at least two weeks.

“Alright.” you exhale, as you stand up and walk her to your door. “Text me when you’re at the station, k?” 

“Sure, peanut. The police is probably still roaming around. And if not they got him.” she smiles at you and leans in for a tight hug. “Gonna miss you.” she whispers in your ear and it almost makes you tear up.

What today happened was a lot for you and now you have to deal with it alone, if the distraction looses its effect. For two whole weeks.

“Gonna miss you, too!” you sniff into her ear and press her against you, before you separate.

“Stop crying, bitch.” she jokes and boops your nose. 

You stick out your tongue and with wet eyes, you unlock your front door. 

“Here you go, your Majesty. Please return safely.” you bow, trying to overact your upcoming crying-session and it makes her giggle. 

“It’ll be fine.” she waves you off and walks down the hallway. “I’m a big girl.”

“Text me!” you yell after her, before you close and lock up the door.

Zschk Zing!

Silence.

Too silent.

You grab your back and pull out the new headphones you bought. In all the hectic you forgot to properly charge them, but luckily, they always are charged halfway up when you buy them. 

You sit down on your kitchen chair and go to your phone’s settings, to connect it via bluetooth with your headphones. 

It worked.

You put them on and scroll through your music library, not sure what will give you the right mood for now. If you want more distraction or if you want to cry. Already feeling an empty feeling spreading in your heart, you scroll and scroll and your eyes keep watering.

Maybe crying it is. 

Mio didn’t text yet and you hope she’s about to arrive safely at the station. It’s just a short walk anyway. You keep scrolling. Being a person who listens to almost everything, it’s difficult to choose sometimes. Closing your eyes, you tap on shuffle, letting fate decide what song to play.

But right in the moment, when the song is about to start, a loud knocking is heard on your door.

Knock. 

Knock. 

Knock.

You quickly look to the door.

Mio? 

Maybe she forgot something.

Without turning off the music, you put your headphones on the table and tipple to the front door.

“Mio, is that you?” you call.

No answer.

You frown in suspicion, before looking through the peephole. 

And your heart drops into your socks, as you see a deformed fish-eye version of a stranger.

A tall, pink haired man.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 7

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6)

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

A/N: Happy New Year! I ran out of steam there for a while but I am bursting with new inspiration and have a billion ideas for new and old fics! Thank you for your patience and support 💜

The next night after dropping you off at home, there was a storm the likes of which Hawkins had never seen. Lightning lit up the sky through the night like a shitty rave, knocking out the power for Forest Hills Trailer Park for the better part of two days. It wasn’t until Saturday, when Eddie attempted to check in on Ronnie again, that he realized that their worn out phone had been completely fried. Shit.

Getting a new one was easier said than done, Eddie and Wayne had to pinch pennies this week after his uncle had been out of work a few days because of a cold, and having to replace a good chunk of groceries that had gone bad sitting in the dead fridge.

Sure, Bev had been nice enough to give Eddie a few extra shifts at the Hideout to help cover but that was a paycheck that wasn’t going to be in for another week. There was always his dealings, but he’d been keeping his head down after nearly having his stash blown by an over enthusiastic K-9 unit that, thankfully, was more interested in the jerky that Eddie had in his jacket.

For a week, he’d been without a phone now. Normally it wasn’t a huge loss, not many people actually bothered trying to call him anyway, and Wayne didn’t really socialize much working the night shift. But he missed Ronnie, and he really was stressing each day that went by that he didn’t call you. Eddie knew that whatever this was, he was probably already blowing it.

Tuesday rolled around again, and he hoped that you’d show back up to the Hideout. Jeff had even agreed to give most of the band a ride if Eddie agreed to haul their equipment and do all of the breakdown in case you needed another ride home. No such luck though, unbeknownst to him Keith had come down with the same cold that his Uncle Wayne had the week before, meaning you had to work a double.

It was now Friday, over a week since you’d written your name in the most stubborn permanent marker he’d ever come across. Your name still stained his skin in a faint and ugly shade of pea green. Eddie could now say your number by memory, despite never having punched in the digits once. If anyone at school had noticed that Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson had a girl's name on his arm, they didn’t say anything.

“Whose number is that?” Mike asked in the middle of a time out while Zach and Gareth were pouring over the rule book over the legality of a move that Eddie was sure was bullshit. So much for that.

Eddie’s head snapped over to the freshman while those in Corroded Coffin snickered and suddenly lost interest in the rules for the moment. With the candles and stage lights on, it was always warm in the Hellfire room, and Eddie had stripped his jacket giving his arms a chance to breathe while he guided the party on their next adventure.

It had also meant that the faded remains of your number was still visible, which he hadn’t thought much of until Mike had pointed it out.

“Yeah, Eddie, whose number is it?” Jeff snickered, which earned a hard look from Eddie that under any other circumstances would have shut Jeff up but in this case only made him laugh harder.

For a moment he debated internally about putting his jacket on, and telling them all to shove it. It was tempting, very tempting, but Eddie wasn’t a teen anymore. Hell, he had a good two to three years on most of the members in this club. Why should he be embarrassed because a cute girl had some sort of interest in him?

Because you’re blowing it by not being able to call her. He told himself.

Eddie then told the table about how you’d given him your number right before he dropped you off. How you’d been a perfect gentleman and hadn’t taken advantage of him or made any untowards moves to him. (Even if he had thought you almost did, but he kept that part to himself).

To his surprise, the ribbing was kept to a minimal. Without Eddie fighting against it, the group became less interested. Eddie’s love life was only of interest when it meant that the sheep could finally have some fun with the shepard.

That was going to be the end of it. Jeff had conceded that the rule they were looking up had been an old house rule from his middle school group that he had never questioned as not actually being accurate, and they were ready to move on. Eddie opened his mouth to guide the party to the next encounter-

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” Dustin suddenly said. Eddie had thought that the shrimp had been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“If that was him not interested then I’m quitting Hellfire to be a cheerleader.” laughed Gareth.

“No one wants to see you in a miniskirt, man.” said Mike.

“They have guy cheerleaders!” protested Gareth. “I’d wear the pants.”

“That’d be a first.” ribbed Zack.

“Don’t you have to be crazy strong to be a cheerleader? Gareth, your strength stat sucks.”

“I haul my own drumset every week!”

“Can we get back to the game?”

“Eddie,” Dustin spoke up again. His brows were furrowed and he was messing with his pencil, the same way he did when someone in the party was about to do something that didn’t make any sense. “You did say you weren’t interested.”

So much for Eddie’s love life being of no interest, he now had a herd of sheep looking at him expectantly, no longer talking about Gareth possibly changing after school activities. He should ignore it, get everyone back on track, and lead them back into the Forbidden Caves where he was not tempted to throw a mimic in for messing with the flow of the game.

He should... but Dustin’s comment bugged him for some reason.

“I never said that.” Eddie said, looking at the kid.

“What? Yeah you did!” Dustin looked as shocked as Eddie felt. When had he ever said he wasn’t interested in you?

“Oh yeah, when?” Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, his eyes narrowing.

“At the arcade!” Dustin sounded frustrated. “You told me that you didn’t want me introducing you to anyone when we were doing Hellfire related shit, and that you weren’t interested anyway.”

The warmth from the candles and stage lights were nothing compared to the heat of everyone’s eyes on him. What the fuck was Henderson even talking about?

Oh. Oh what the fuck?!

“Excuse me?” Eddie said slowly as that thirty second conversation started to play in his mind.

“Yeah, I remember that.” Mike added, in an attempt to back up his friend. “We just assumed she wasn’t your type.”

Eddie hadn’t been looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He was never looking to be dating anyone, the few times he’d found himself in the good graces of a girl who’d shown interest in him it had always blown up in his face.

That had never stopped him from trying though.

“Are- wait. Back up.” Eddie stood up and made his way over to the opposite end of the table where the freshmen were suddenly looking very nervous. He grabbed them by the shoulders, as he’d done so many times in the past and hauled them up while the rest of the table watched on in amusement. Normally, Eddie would never pause the game but, fuck it. This kid had something to do with you, and he was going to figure out what.

“Jesus, Eddie-” Mike said, wincing at the grip. “I don’t have anything to do with this, it was all Dustin and Steve!”

This was getting more and more confusing by the moment. Eddie shoved the two boys to face them, leaning over them. Even with Mike’s growth spurt over the past few months, somehow Eddie still seemed to tower over them.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was slow, trying to understand why that name was even being spoken in the private sanctuary away from jocks.

“Yes, Steve! They’re like, best friends or something! Ask Dustin!” Mike said, throwing his friend under the bus.

“What’s the big deal?!” Dustin asked, looking between Mike and Eddie with a look of bewilderment.

“Henderson, you have thirty seconds to explain what the actual Hell is going on before your character becomes Quasit food.” Eddie said, releasing his grip on both of the freshmen.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin held his hand up in surrender, looking nervous as everyone watched the scene unfold. “So, you know how her and Steve work together? Well, they had a deal going on where they’d help get each other dates.”

Eddie’s head tilted down slightly, but his eyes stayed firmly focused on Dustin. This was making less and less sense by the minute. Steve needed help getting dates? King Steve of Hawkins High who had the pick of any girl in school before he graduated? That Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date and so had recruited you into helping him?

And you, you with the everything about you couldn’t get a date either? Hadn’t you mentioned something about that before, at the Hideout?

“I help him and he uh... he helps me get out of the house.”

You’d said that, and he hadn’t thought much of it until now. All this time, Eddie had thought the arcade incident had been Dustin trying to have his two older male friends meet and be friends, but it had been you that he was supposed to meet?

“So you’re telling me that you, Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were trying to set me up on a date?” Eddie looked over at the rest of the table that looked just as bewildered as he did. This was a prank, right? He’d been tossed into some sort of alternate dimension where a freshman and a jock had any sort of interest in his love life, in any part of his life. He’d sooner believe that he’d run a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham than this.

“Well, technically we were trying to set her up on a date and you seemed like a good fit?” Dustin’s answer came out as more of a question, leaving Eddie’s mind reeling. Behind him, he could hear the growing snickers of the party.

Eddie was ready for this to start making sense any time now.

“So she was helping Steve get dates and he wanted to set her up with me?” Nope, even after thinking it a half dozen times it still wasn’t clicking.

“That part was my idea actually!” Dustin said, showing off a smile filled with metal. “She’s pretty weird and Steve said she was picky-”

“Can’t be that picky if she was interested in Eddie.” muttered Gareth, earning another round of laughter at the table.

Eddie didn’t even have it in him to shoot another look at the table as he continued to try and piece together what was going on.

You and Steve had a deal to try and get each other dates. You were picky and so Dustin suggested Eddie. Steve then brought you to the arcade to force a meeting and-

“Wait, did she know that she was supposed to meet me?” Eddie asked suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she knew the whole time in the arcade.” Dustin nodded, hoping that Eddie wasn’t about to blow a fuse over this. “Well, she figured it out at least. See she was just supposed to be tagging along with Steve to find guys to flirt with but then uh... she realized she was supposed to meet you.”

“And she didn’t know who I was?” Eddie clarified, thinking back to the way you’d tried to talk to him about Hellfire, Chris Morrison, anything to try and start a conversation. How the hell was it that he could remember every time you two met so clearly, but you didn’t know who he actually was?

Because it wasn’t about you, Eddie. He had to remind himself.

Dustin shrugged. “I guess not? She’s never mentioned you before that night.”

Guess not everyone paid attention to the Freak. He hated that it bugged him that you didn’t remember him but could he blame you? He probably wouldn’t remember him either, just a Munson fuck up who everyone was waiting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Eddie pushed Dustin back down into his seat, done interrogating the poor freshman. Everyone watched as he made his way back to his side of the table, behind the DM screen. He had a lot to think about, but he wasn’t about to start processing that in front of the rest of Hellfire.

“You all wander deeper into the cave, the only light coming from the torch carried by-”

“I have dark vision!”

Broke and bored, Eddie haunted the trailer for the rest of the weekend. He did have practice with Corroded Coffin for a generous two hours on Saturday, and then a long shift that night at the Hideout where one old drunk had slipped him a $10 tip for making sure he always had a cold beer in hand. But those few hours were just a minor reprieve from the information that Dustin had given him the previous day.

When he wasn’t distracted by work or practice he was practicing guitar, working on lyrics, prepping for the next Hellfire session.

He tried to think about you, but ended up feeling confused. When he was trying to think about anything else, all he could see was the way you had flirted with him at the Hideout.

Despite popular opinion, Eddie wasn’t stupid when it came to girls. He could tell when a girl was interested in him, and you had made it clear that you had at least some interest in him. You had told him point blank that you were not with Harrington, and had no interest as well. He’d seen the way you looked at him while watching them play, that excitement in your eyes. Your head had bobbed to the rhythm of their songs watching them with as much enthusiasm as if you’d been a fan for years.

Paige had watched with similar eyes, right? She’d seen something in them that no one else had before-

No. Not them. Not Corroded Coffin. Just Eddie.

It felt pathetic that he kept comparing you to Paige. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was still hung up on Paige, not really. She’d just been a turning point in who he was as a person. She’d been the first (and last) girl to really look at him as a person. If his dating prospects had been small before, they had completely dried up over the past two years.

Date the freak? Yeah, right. There had been the odd girl who’d hit on him as if daring themselves to get with him but he was done with that. A few mediocre dates that he’d agreed to out of boredom or loneliness had only added to the idea in Hawkins High that he was undesirable. Adding to that, the older he got, the younger his underclassmen became and the idea of dating someone younger was... well he didn’t need to add ‘creep’ to the long list of rumors about him. It didn’t matter to him most of the time, instead focusing on his friends, his band, his club, his business, himself. God knows he’d never be able to hold down a relationship unless he got his shit together and earned everyone’s trust again.

“Graduate and get laid, Munson.” Ronnie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind and he groaned as his face warmed. It was the middle of the week, just over two weeks since the night at the Hideout. Eddie was laying on the old couch face down, his homework on the counter half finished and the blue glow of the tv doing little to distract him.

The sound of the door opening didn’t even phase him enough to look up, even as Wayne grunted out a hello before setting something down on the counter next to his forgotten schoolbooks.

“Did you eat?” Wayne asked, which earned a shrug from Eddie. How could he think about eating when he was stuck thinking about everything else?

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks?” Wayne tried again in an attempt to be a good guardian. When that didn’t work either he sighed and said “Might as well step outside with me and have a smoke.”

It was better than doing whatever the hell else Eddie was doing now, and so he rolled off the couch less than gracefully and followed his uncle out onto the porch to sit on the outdoor couch. Wayne offered him the smoke and for a moment it was peaceful. Wayne wasn’t one to push Eddie to talk about anything, but he did have a way to make him think even if it did piss him off occasionally.

Eddie took a long drag of the cigarette and released it slowly as he stared up at the sky. It was a dark night, a million tiny dots illuminating the trailer park, even if the moon wasn’t out. He scanned the stars, looking for the three that he knew were Orion’s belt. That’s about where his astrology knowledge began and ended, but it was something to look for at least.

“I think a girl likes me.” He finally said as he spotted what he assumed was the constellation he was looking for.

“Yeah?” Wayne asked, his own eyes gazing upwards as well, giving Eddie the space to talk more.

“Yeah.”

It was silent again for a few minutes as they smoked, the only other sound for a while was that of Wayne cracking open a beer. That’s what Eddie appreciated about Wayne, he didn’t need to fill the silence like his dad did, and Eddie didn’t need to either. He could just... exist.

“I don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie finally said a while later. “She only has an interest because her and some jock are trying to get each other dates.”

“Is that right?” Coming from anyone else that question would have been dismissive, a filler phrase to show that they were paying minimal attention. Eddie knew better though, which caused a knot of frustration in his gut.

“I guess.” he shrugged.

“How many dates has she gone on?” Wayne passed the beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip.

“Don’t know. It didn’t sound like she’d been on many. Henderson said she’s picky.”

“But she likes you.”

“Yeah.”

Another long stretch of silence as Eddie stewed over the question. He hated how Wayne could break down his problems into simple questions.

“Don’t see why you’re moping around if she likes you.” Wayne glanced over at Eddie. “Are you sweet on her?”

Eddie snorted at the term, taking another drag from the cigarette and flicking the ashes off the porch. “She’s cute.” he said, thinking about how you’d looked the last few times he’d seen you. He might have been distracted that first night at the arcade, but not so distracted that he didn’t notice that at least. “Smart too. She got the guys to listen to her last time we hung out.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “She got Gareth to pay attention? That’s a damn miracle.”

“They liked her too.”

“More than the California girl?”

The question caught Eddie off guard and he looked up at Wayne who was still looking off in the distance. Eddie had never explained exactly to Wayne what had happened that first senior year, most of the details going to what happened with Al when Officer Morris was shot. They never talked about how Eddie was so damn close to packing everything up and running away to California.

Thinking about everything that happened that year still stung. Eddie had tried hard not to think about what could have been if CJ and Toby had just shown up one or two days later. Would Eddie have made it to the audition? Would they have really liked him? Maybe in another life he’d be signed and he’d be working on an album or on tour and him and Paige...

It didn’t matter, that ship had long since sailed. Eddie was no rock hero, and never would be. He tried to tell himself it was better this way, if anything it meant that his relationship with Al was over and done with which was a hollow victory if he was being honest.

“Definitely more than her.” Eddie finally agreed. You weren’t asking him to ditch the band and run away with you, so that had to give you some points for them, and for him. Dustin vouched for you, and even Mike, but he wasn’t sure how much that counted for yet. After all Dustin still seemed to worship Steve, and you were friends with Steve-

But did that actually matter? If you and Steve were close enough friends to help each other like this, and Steve was willing to vouch for Eddie, despite never having any real conversation just because Dustin said something-

“She gonna ask you to run away?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie again.

Sometimes he wondered if his uncle could secretly read minds.

“Doubt it.” Eddie said, “She works at the video store. I don’t know much about her, honestly.”

“So ask her on a date.”

“What?”

“She likes you, you want to get to know her. Ask her on a date. It’s not that complicated, Eddie.” Wayne dropped the cigarette on the porch and crushed it under his boot. “You always did think too much, always sucked up in your own world. You’ll be happier in the long run if you open up a bit.”

Easier said than done for a 20 year old still in high school that the whole town considered a satanic cult leader. Then again, when was the last time he’d really opened up to anyone other than Ronnie or Wayne? Right, his dad in the weeks before the heist.

“I think I fucked this up before I could even start.” Eddie sighed, snuffing out his own half finished cigarette. “She gave me her number and I never called.”

“Could’a grabbed a quarter from the change jar and used a pay phone.”

Eddie pressed his hands against his face and dragged them down slowly. Why did good advice always come too late for him?

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought back a new phone for the kitchen today.”

Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he should have snapped something, his eyes widening.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s a new used phone. Guy down the line from me offered it up and it’s better than nothing.”

Eddie didn’t care if it was a rotary phone, he’d take anything at this point if it meant that he could try to call you.

He wanted to call you.

He wanted to call you. Eddie didn’t care if you remembered that first time you met, did it even really matter? You had an interest in him, Eddie Munson, now.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie stood up and hurried inside, seeing the new old phone that was sitting on the counter. It took a few minutes of making sure it wouldn’t fall off the wall before he plugged it in and heard that sweet dial tone sound.

Eddie grabbed his copy of Lord of the Rings from his bedside table and pulled out the paper flower, looking at the number scribbled in his own chicken scratch. He didn’t trust himself to punch in the number without checking, no matter how many times he read the ten digits over the past two weeks.

It rang once.

Twice.

Six times.

No response.

“It’s late, she might be asleep.” Wayne said, grabbing a box of pasta from the cabinet.

It wasn’t that late, not even 8:30 yet. Eddie sighed and hung up the phone, crossing his arms as he thought about his next move. He’d always had tunnel vision when he got an idea into his head, from Corroded Coffin, to his campaigns, to a book that he wanted to read, it was hard to shake the urge when he got one.

Grabbing the keys from the counter he called over to Wayne “I’ll be back later.” which was responded to with a confirmation that he’d save some pasta for Eddie in the fridge.

There weren’t many places he could think of where you could be tonight. You hadn’t shown back up at the Hideout, and the arcade was closed this late on a weeknight. You could be at home, but Eddie didn’t remember where you lived and showing up to your place after two weeks of radio silence would definitely get him in trouble.

So he drove to Family Video.

If you were there he’d do.. something. If you weren’t he’d call you after school tomorrow. Eddie winced internally at the thought. He’d been trudging through school and dragging his feet for the past six years to graduate, and now was the time he felt childish about it. You could legally buy him a beer, and he could illegally sneak you a drink in the Hideout.

At a stoplight he swapped out the Black Sabbath tape for W.A.S.P., remembering that you had mentioned liking them. How did he continue to remember these small details about you?

Because she’s treated you like a human each time you’ve talked. It was startling how something so basic was such a big deal to him.

The lights were still on at Family Video, and the open sign was still lit up. He could see movement inside the store, and he caught sight of someone wearing the signature green vest that the employees wore.

He’d walk in, and if you were there he’d- fuck what the hell was he supposed to do? Eddie stared at the door from inside his van for a few minutes. It was past nine now, and he could have sworn that they should be closed now but that stupid sign was still on. That had to be a good sign right? Eddie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that but maybe he’d be stupid to ignore a literal neon sign hanging in the door.

Okay, now or never. Eddie had never really been one to hesitate before and he wasn’t about to start now.

He made his way to the entrance and opened the door before he could think about what he was actually wanting to do. Eddie could improvise, it was one of the more useful skills that came from years of running Hellfire.

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” Your voice was a welcome sound, sealing the determination inside of him. No going back now.

“It was Steve’s job to-” your co-worker said. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to the face.

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was the first to actually notice Eddie as he walked in, looking as if he was expecting literally anyone else.

Turning on the Freak, Eddie smirked at Steve. “Cursing in front of customers, Harrington? Now that’s not very professional of you.”

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips in a way that reminded Eddie of a mother hen. Steve did have a point, and so he decided to cut through any bullshit and looked over at you. You looked like you’d had a long shift, but the way you were looking at him... there was still the same shock that was on Steve’s face, but while his shock was laced with confusion yours was excited. As if you couldn’t believe that The Freak was here and that was a good thing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie blurted out the request before he could think. He had no idea where you two would go or what you would do but he had to do something.

Your coworker nudged you in the ribs, and your expression changed to a more professional one.

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, looking at Steve for a split second.

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Eddie made a mental note to learn this girls name and send her a fucking gift basket one day.

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, reaching down to grab something from below the counter- your bag. Eddie felt himself growing more excited, his heart pounding as you tossed your work vest and keys over to them. They were basically shoving you out the door to spend time with him.

“We can handle it!” Steve said.

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You stepped out from behind the counter, looking up at him. The color of your eyes under the fluorescent lights reminded him of the stars he had been looking at earlier this evening. Eddie found himself smiling at you as you opened the door for him.

Someone was quick to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign off.

Eddie opens his van door for you, trying his best to make a good impression for whatever was about to happen. You hopped into the passenger seat and he thought that he might enjoy seeing you sitting next to him like this in his van more often.

---

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[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [1]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [2] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 7.4k

status: in progress

author's note: this was supposed to only be an introduction but i ended up with a chapter lol. im sorry if its lame, i wrote this half asleep and for fun. not edited btw

"So like...are we gonna keep staring at the door or do you mind if I open it and walk inside?"

Swiftly turning your neck, you glared at your friend who was patiently waiting for your reply- probably begging on the inside to go in by how badly cold it was outside on this tuesday, new york morning.

"Just go inside by yourself!" you rolled your eyes as she shook her head.

"Uh no, for one- I can't let you be out here alone, some man could just push you in a van and sell you to the black market," Jules declared. "then I would lose one birthday gift from you-"

"I will push you in the van myself if you keep talking," you groaned, her constant rambling within the hours making your nerves worsen.

Today was the day Jules, your best friend, and you began your internship on a film set. Actually, it was yesterday, but nobody really counts the short orientation and hours of reading rules and responsibilities a real productive work day, right?

If having the worst anxiety wasn't enough, you were blessed to have been given an amazing coping mechanism of meditation- in which would've been fine with if you didn't look like a complete idiot standing up with your eyes wide open breathing slowly.

But to be fair, this really was your first day on the job. You didn't know what to expect and your friend wasn't exactly a helping hand in these situations. As she was more confident and outgoing, there you were being an introverted, awkward female with amazing music taste- that is you ever felt comfortable to let people hear your music outside of your headphones.

"I don't get just why you have to pray while staring at the door as if you wanna stare into its soul, you look weird," Jules whined, placing her hand over her eyes. "We have to be at Finn's office in 10 minutes or else we're dead."

"Fine," you huff, grabbing your bag you had placed on the floor beforehand onto your shoulder. "Let's go."

Excitedly clapping her hands together, she swung the door open before dragging you down the hall of the room towards the elevators. The two of you had to meet at a studio on the other side of the city for this internship in which wouldn't be a problem if you enjoyed traffic and the crowds of people on the street- but you didn't.

Not only did you have to take the subway and a cab one hour before your schedule 8am start, you had to deal with the troubles of waking up your night owl roommate, Jules again, without slapping her silly by how strong her eyes stay shut.

After getting off the elevators and walking closer to his office, you recognized a couple of the other interns standing around his door looking either extremely nervous, tired- or both.

Suddenly, the door opened and Finn, the man who hired you, jumped out with a bright smile.

It's way too early to be this energetic.

"How is everyone doing on this lovely, working morning?" Finn smiled, making sure to make eye-contact with every single person in the hall before continuing on with his dialogue. "I'll take this silence as a way you all express your gratitude to be able to work on a live set."

With the ongoing silence still occurring, Finn continued with, "please follow me to the room next door, that's where we'll discuss minor details before heading towards the stages."

The minor details were simple, don't screw up.

There was also little insights on what we should be prepared for- taking care of the cast and errands as the day went on.

I suppose experience is what is needed for your future so it shouldn't be a surprise that you wouldn't be around a camera for too long. But it was mentioned that overtime you would accelerate your learning to harder tasks such as on-hands work, which you were terrified over but within time you would get over it.

You had to, this was a part of your dream job after all.

The group was informed more about the project we had to assist, some new show coming out called 'The Last of Us.' To be honest, you weren't familiar with it. Some of the guys in the group threw in their input that they played the game, but you didn't know it was also a combined franchise.

You weren't exactly a gamer or horror film person.

It hadn't even come to your mind that you would be interacting with real-life celebrities until you made near a stage and felt Jules grip your wrist hard and start tugging on it to get your attention as she tried to quiet her fan girl squeals.

Looking up, you saw a group of people walking through a set with papers in their hand, laughing and chatting with one another. Truth be told, you didn't recognize any of them. Maybe you should have done more research regarding this show you know nothing about- but you heard some successful directors had openings for extra help and immediately called your friend to join with.

"Is it bad that I don't recognize any of these people?" you whisper to Jules as she screeches in low volume, shocked that you would dare say that.

"You're joking right?!" she whispers with a high-pitched voice. "Everybody knows them! They are-"

"Is that him?" you heard a girl whisper from your group, Jules stopping her almost-started rant from it. "He really is daddy."

"What the fuck?" you heard one of the guy interns whisper in confusion, looking at her as if she was delusional as she waved her hand to him to not distract her from her view.

You weren't sure who she was talking about and you really didn't want to know. She probably had some silly crush on one of the actors which would just distract her from her job, it isn't worth it.

"Yo man, why is there a line of people looking like they are held at gunpoint?" one person laughed, pointing at your group as you tried to hold back your laughter.

You were assuming the people around you guys were majority of the cast as nobody else but the camera and makeup crew were present in the room. Surprisingly enough, even after seeing them closer you still couldn't figure out who any of these actors were.

Were you really that outdated in the films you watched?

"Way to introduce yourself, Gabriel," Finn replied, giving a pat on his back before turning back to the group. "These are the new interns because you know, you guys made the last ones quit."

"Uh no I didn't, that was all Nick!" you heard a small child gasp, pointing at an older looking man. He looked a little familiar but you couldn't wrap your head around it. "He made them pick up his food orders all the way across town everyday!"

The familiar-looking man had longer hair than most of the men around. "I would've done delivery if that was an option!" The man complained, making the girl scoff in return.

Hold on, you knew that voice. You grew up with that voice.

"Wait, I do know somebody, that's Ron Swanson" you gasped, completely forgetting how loud and clear you were in your surroundings by how fazed out you were to be a few feet away from a comedic legend.

You didn't know all eyes were on you until you felt Jules heavy weight of her shoulders hit yours as she hid her face in embarrassment from your last statement causing you to look up. Everybody tried holding back their giggles as Nick just smiled proudly.

Great, you just exposed how you didn't know them in front of them. Not mortifying at all.

"Funny and smart for knowing me, I like her already," you heard Nick proudly declare, turning to Finn with a firm nod. "You better not fire her."

Feeling your face getting hotter by the second, you wished you could just hide under a blanket and stay in there forever if it meant you never had to embarrass yourself like that again. This probably looked so disreputable on your part.

"And what might this oblivious, tomato be named?" you heard a man curiously question, getting your attention by his big framed glasses on his face.

Did he just call you a fruit?

"Be nice, you're intimidating them. It's like a new fish in a big pond," an older woman responded after, trying to bring some extra comfort into the room but it was too late- you were traumatized.

"Okay, okay," the man held up his hand in defense before turning to look at you straight in the eye. "What might this unaware, cherry tomato be named? That sounds cuter."

"Uh, y/n," you awkwardly stated, holding your hands together while terribly trying to defend yourself. "And it's totally not like I didn't recognize the rest of you!" you lie, pointing at a random person next to him before speaking up again, "you're in that one brilliant movie that was so good!"

The man sheepishly smiled at you before saying, "I am just one of the cameramen, but thank you. I do get told quite a bit that I look like Brad Pitt." And that was the moment you wanted to die inside.

That's it, you're never coming back here again. You've made a fool out of yourself.

"Stop talking," you heard your friend hiss before taking a step forward to help lessen the attention on you. "I am Jules. Not fashionable like the one from Euphoria, but still very friendly and fun."

The cast all waved at her from her radiating charm that could make anyone adore her. "Thank you, Jules who isn't from Euphoria, why don't everyone else introduce themselves."

After everyone had their time to shine, you were excused for a small break as rehearsal had yet to start. You weren't complaining, you would rather be out getting coffee on the other side of town if that meant you could avoid the actors and directors at all times.

Sitting on one of the break room's couches, you felt Jules jump next to you before hitting your shoulder rapidly. "I think that one girl intern hates you!"

Trying hard to remove her fast hands off you, you gave her a confused look. "Uh why? Was it because I embarrassed us?"

There couldn't be any other reason why she might dislike you, it's not like you knew her personally or had ever met her before the last few days.

"I mean Pedro did call you cute minutes after she called him 'daddy', what do you expect?" She giggled as you gave her a disgusted glance at the last term she used. Why would she call him that and feel comfortable saying it so freely? "She's in loveeee with him."

Pedro? So that was his name.

"First of all, he doesn't think I'm cute. The name 'cherry tomato' was cute rather than a hillbilly tomato," you defended, making her scrunch her face in confusion by your nonsense. "Second, there's no way a normal woman would be that upset over one small indirect comment not made in that way."

Jules rolled her eyes by how understanding you weren't being, it annoyed her even more how oblivious- like the man had said, you were being. "He called you a cherry tomato because it has an adorable ring to it for a cute person! Therefore, he finds you pretty- end of story."

"I am beginning to think you really are delusional."

"All I am saying is be careful," she whispers seriously. "She's young and I know a lot of people who obsess over him for his looks."

"Why? He's like in his 40s-"

"Daddy issues? Gray facial hair? I have no clue what people enjoy on their free time," Jules cut you off, shrugging while you snickered. Like you never heard that excuse before.

"Can we check out the set though? I'm feeling better and want to be out there to prove how unaffected I am from earlier- but I will be hiding behind your back."

"As always," she sang, following you out the door back to the main room.

Walking out, you were determined to stay focused and think before you said something silly- which was hard. Your whole life you've always been a little dumb when reading the environment, that's not gonna change within a few minutes.

Looking through the racks of costumes, tables filled with devices you had never seen before, and cameras that were bigger than yourself, one of the interns, Joon, came up to Jules and you to inform that it was time to actually 'work.'

"Damn, I kinda liked just walking around and doing nothing but stare at the lights. Now we have to get our hands dirty for minimum wage," Jules sighed as the two of you walked in front of one of the stages.

The stage was practically empty, only a few white walls installed and chairs scattered around.

After a few minutes of hearing one of the lead director's assistant discuss the plan of going over a few scenes, it came to your realization that this was only a rehearsal.

It made sense, this building wasn't necessarily a 'survival mode" vibe. Maybe a few indoor scenes would do the job, but it wouldn't be enough for the series.

"I want you to run along with Kendall to grab some snacks, go around the room and see what we're missing and restock!" Finn brightly smiled to Jules before turning to you. "Now, what should I do with you?"

Man, you wished you could replace Kendall right now because now you were alone

"She can help me with the makeup," a lady spoke up from a few feet away. She was a very tall, black-haired woman with a few facial piercings who looked like she was in her middle 20s. "We still need to practice to see how it'll look on the screen this week"

Finn looked at you and back at her before shrugging and nodding. "Works for me." He was already walking away before he turned back around, "but don't let her apply too much, I don't want them looking caked up in front of the camera." Lightly scoffing, you made your way to the girl as he walked away.

Standing there in discomfort, you waited for her to lead you in any type of direction to make this task go by quicker. Makeup was not your thing, or at least when it came to doing someone else's.

"I'm Violet, by the way," the girl smiled kindly at you as she handed you a black apron. "You must be y/n."

Taking the apron, you opened it to find in white writing 'TLOU Crew.' "How'd you know? Did me not knowing the cast spread that fast "

Giggling, she shook her head. "Yes and no," she grabbed one of her many make up bags and began looking through it. "Your name tag."

Looking down, you forgot they had written your name on the sticker during the short-lived meeting with Finn. Redness filled your face as you averted your eyes somewhere else, too embarrassed to make eye-contact.

"Anywho," Violet chuckled while putting one hand on her hip. "I thought maybe I could do my normal routine while you can just do the small stuff like brush their eyebrows or hair."

Squinting your eyes, you just gave her a confused look. "Brush their eyebrows? Work with their hair? Isn't the eyebrows fairly too easy for you to need the help and don't you guys have certified hairstylists?"

"Would you rather do more complicated things like taking their never-ending customized coffee orders?" She replied, making you immediately reject the idea. "I volunteered you to help me because I feel like working on harder tasks your first day would only be stressful."

How thoughtful of her.

"Plus, today's not a complicated schedule-," she added as she began lining her brushes around her small table. "-think of it as a practice run over a few lines, but for multiple scenes. We probably have like max 5 people I need to work on so no need for many artists."

There was another older lady in the other side of the table on her phone, probably another experienced makeup artist who knew the drill.

"Got it, today is a light day," you responded back, causing her to smile and hand you a hairbrush.

"See, you have the right mindset," she declared, nudging her head to the side. "And you better keep it because you have your first clients coming in."

Eyes widening, you swiftly twisted your body to see two young girls and Nick come in. Three people, that shouldn't be hard.

"You better make me look adorable," Nick pointed a finger at you as he sat down on a chair near you, causing you to let out a shy laugh as Violet motioned you to come closer.

"I'm going to prep his skin, go to Bella and Nico and ask them to do the same," she advised. "They usually do it themselves on these days to make the process faster."

Nodding you walked to the two young girls, not knowing which was who. The girls were chatting with each other before one with big curls noticed your presence before smiling brightly. "Skin routine, huh? Don't worry, we were about to begin."

Immediately, you noticed her beautiful accent that caused you to stare at her in shock.

"Looks like you frightened her," the other girl laughed, making you glance at her right after. They both had the strong accent.

"Sorry!" you blush, trying to avert your eyes away from them. "I just never heard a British accent- or at least one in person before."

The first girl giggled, waving her hand as a way to prove she didn't mind. "We get that all the time when we visit, it's okay- I never really hear your accent unless I am working on a new project."

"I don't have an accent- you have one," you declare, causing them to laugh harder.

"You seem really amazed by it, is it because you fantasize over Harry Potter or something?" the second girl jokingly questioned, making you chuckle.

"I wish, but I only watched one of his movies and never read the books," you sigh before continuing. "But one of my favorite bands are British so I just get a little loss for words whenever I hear one. It's such a beautiful tone- not to be weird or anything!"

"I agree, New Yorker's just sound so...angry," the first girl shivered. "Which band are you into? Maybe we know them"

"The 1975-"

"Aww, did you do your research on me to make up for earlier," you heard a voice boost through the area. Turning around, you noticed it was the man who called you a tomato, Pedro.

He gave you a cheeky smirk with a look in his eyes as if he knew torturing you will never get old- unless of course you started crying.

"No, you idiot-," the second girl rolled her eyes as he sent her a playful glare for the insult. "-she's talking about the band."

"Wait, you were born in 1975?" you lightly asked, your mind all scrambled in your heard trying to figure out how old he would be now. "that m-

"Yes, I am old!" Pedro fake cried, holding his heart with his hand. "You don't need to remind me that these wrinkles will never go away."

"Well if you had a prepped your skin throughout the years your skin would have been as smooth as a baby's butt like mine," you heard Nick comment from his chair, eyes closed as Violet just laughed in agreement while applying sunscreen on his face.

Pedro just rolled his eyes as the first girl began talking again. "By the way, I love the 1975! Never seen them live though, but they are definitely on my playlists."

You smiled, already feeling comfortable within the environment. Maybe being alone wasn't going to be that terrible.

"I heard he makes out with fans during his concerts," the second girl scrunched her nose in disgust. "Isn't he worried he would end up catching something."

"He probably gets check ups all the time, Bella," the first girl commented, or you suppose Nico since you now know which one was Bella.

"I would catch any disease if it meant I got to kiss Matty Healy for five seconds," you replied, causing the girls to stare at you in astonishment that you just said that so freely.

Maybe talking about your favorite band is slowly making you more confident?

You heard Violet let out a loud laugh as Nick disagreed, saying something about how young girls are too adventurous nowadays but it was true. Matt Healy was a very attractive man whose kiss could probably heal heartaches.

"Isn't he like in his 30s? Aren't you a little too young to be kissing an older man like him?" Violet questioned, making you shrug.

"Maybe I have a thing for older men."

"Wouldn't call a guy who constantly makes out with fans a man," Pedro snorted. "That's a boy."

Nick hummed in agreement as you suppressed a laugh. "How old are you anyway?"

Standing up straight you stared at him and he did the same back. "Guess."

"That never ends up good," Violet chuckled before examining you up and down. "But 18."

Shaking your head, you were young but not that young. At least your skin still made you look like a teenager, god bless.

"25," Bella answered in which you denied that as well.

"29" Nico tried but was wrong.

Nick sat up from his seat to really figure out your age before easily answering "32" and becoming shocked when you denied it. "Woah, are we at least going in the right direction?"

"Violet was headed there."

Pedro sat up in shock at your response. "You're a teenager?!"

"Would it be so wrong if I was?" you questioned. "I would love to live longer."

"She's 21," the other makeup artist who was long forgotten during this conversation casually spoke up, eyes lifting from her phone. The rest of us just stared at her as she did the same back, confused. "What? She fantasizes over an older man but is doing an internship- sounds like what every 21 year-old does."

Gasping, you held a hand over your mouth as everyone laughed at how accurate she was. She was indeed right, but you wouldn't necessarily call your crush on Matty Healy a fantasy- just a strong imagination of being his lifelong lover that would probably never happen because he doesn't know you exist.

"She's right, huh" Nico spoke up as she noticed you didn't fight back.

"Sadly."

After that whole fiasco trying to find out your real age, Violet began working on Pedro after she finished with Nick. Nico and Bella were almost done with their makeup with the other artist when Violet called you over.

Walking towards the chair, you noticed that she had already finished his base with an extremely natural look, not wanting to add too much or it wouldn't look realistic.

"Can you brush his brows and apply some powder on places that need it? I need to finish Bella off with a few final touches," Violet asked, in which you nodded as she pointed to the products needed to do so. "Don't worry if you mess up, it doesn't need to be perfect."

That didn't make you feel any better.

Standing awkwardly as she walks off, you searched around her overload of makeup table to grab the items she just pointed at.

You decided to do his eyebrows first which would be extremely weird because you've never done this before- or at least to a man.

Surprisingly, Pedro hadn't teased you at all since you arrived by his side to help. He actually just laid there silent and watched Violet direct you through her moves before she left.

Maybe he was cutting you a break for once.

You were proven wrong when you leaned forward and aimed your hand towards his face before he quickly tried biting your hand, causing you to squeal and drop the brush on his face, jumping back.

"Very unprofessional," he declared, picking up the brush that had fallen down from his face to his neck up before looking up at you. "Do you hit all of your clients?'

"You did that on purpose!" you glared, smacking his arm as he sent you a playful wink.

"And what are you gonna do about it? Tell on me?" he teased until you grabbed the brush from his hands and swiped it across his brows hard, causing him to hiss in pain. "God damn, woman!"

Laughing as he gripped his forehead area, he gave you a dirty look as you begin the process of patting his face, even hitting his face a little harder than usual in some spots to make sure you got your revenge.

Once done, you examined his face to make sure you were pleased with the results- in which you were.

"All done?' Violet asked, walking up beside you, checking out your work. "Nicely done, but why does he look grumpy?" she added, as he huffed. "and why is he holding his face?"

"Who knows?" you shrug as Pedro scoffs, watching you walk away as Violet calls out afterwards that you were free to go.

As you were walking back to find where the rest of the interns were, you turned your head to find Pedro's eyes still on yours. You gave him an evil smirk as he pointed his finger at you before swiping his thumb across his neck.

You giggled, about to respond back but you were interrupted when a hand tapped your shoulder. Turning around, you find that it was two of the interns, Joon and the girl who was supposedly in love with Pedro, her name tag claiming she was Kendall.

Was this the girl that Jules went did her errands with? Most likely.

"Are you done with the makeup? We need help arranging the equipment for what's gonna be used today," Joon softly smiled as Kendall just stared at you with no emotion.

Nodding, you followed after them as they walked towards the other side of the set. Soon, you had forgotten about the actor and your little battle as endless wires and heavy weights distracted you.

It wasn't till you physically couldn't bare holding the strong stands that the three of you were told you could take a lunch break. Pulling out your phone, you hadn't realized half the day had went by with all the work you were too engaged in.

"You wanna grab lunch with us? We were thinking about going to this small cafe down the street, the reviews look great," Joon asked as Kendall just sent you a small nod in agreement.

The three of you got along pretty well during the hours you spent together. You feel closer to Joon as he did talk the most, but Kendall did try to start little talks so it wouldn't be weird.

I mean we all kind had to get along in order for this job to work.

"I would but I should look for my friend-"

"I think she had her lunch already, I saw her walking by earlier eating a burrito," Kendall replied. Of course she ate already.

Going over the idea in your head a few times, you nodded. You were starving and you suppose its better to not be a loner right now. "Why not?"

As the three of you walked through the set, you didn't miss some of the glances you guys received as your footsteps were pretty loud. It looked like they were wrapping up on one of the scenes as the director was in deep focus on whatever he was lecturing to them on.

"I hope you guys like walking because I took a cab here," Joon chuckled, causing you to laugh.

"Don't worry, I did the same."

Putting on your big coat, you waited until Kendall was done tying the scarf around her neck before walking towards the exit. Close to the door, you halted when you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n!" you saw Bella jogging towards you making Joon and Kendall freeze their movements.

Shifting slowly, you gave her a curious look. "Yes?"

"We wanted to know if you wanted to have lunch with us?" she smiled before looking behind you to find the two others. "You guys can come too!"

Swinging your arms in front of you, you reject her offer as fast as she asked you. "Oh no, no- I'm all good," you decline, not wanting to feel like a bother. "You guys enjoy your own thing-"

"C'mon, how else are we gonna tease Pedro if you aren't there to get him riled up first?" she chuckled as you felt your face on fire.

"Maybe next time?" you kindly suggest, watching as she pouts but nods.

Lifting her right hand up, she sways it around. "Alright, but don't be surprised if Pedro haunts you because of this."

"Why would he?" you heard Kendall quickly question, making Bella tilt her head at her fast counter.

"Because he's the one who asked me to invite her-." Bella casually states before turning to you. "-which you declined so I hope he teases you all week for leaving Nico and I hanging."

Ignoring the first part of her last statement, you playfully nudge her before waving your goodbyes as she skips back to the rest of the cast. Beginning your walk to the cafe, the three of you had little talk about where you grew up, which schools you attended, and why you wanted to work for the film industry.

If it weren't for the freezing temperatures you would say you really enjoyed the walk, too bad you couldn't.

It wasn't until you were seated that Kendall decided to speak her mind on what she was really curious about:

You.

"So, I wonder why Pedro specifically asked you to join him for lunch and not the rest of us?" she randomly revealed as you were taking a sip of your coffee, almost choking on it once you heard her clearly. "Do I sense favoritism?"

Joon stifled a laugh, shaking his head at her last comment. "Doubt it, but I did wonder the same thing until I realized she did help with their makeup. That's intimate enough to make her at some level close to them."

You don't really know Kendall but she's been decent enough to be around until the cast comes to mind. Maybe she wants to be close to them? You're not sure, maybe Jules was right about her all along- who knows.

What you did know though was she was very quick to question and jump to conclusions.

"What did you even talk to them about?" Kendall eyed you, making you tense up a bit. She is very intimidating when she's curious.

"Nothing much-,' you shrug, messing with the napkin in front of you. "Mainly about the 1975 since the girls are British."

"You like the 1975?" Joon asked and you nodded. "I love them!"

Ears perking up after hearing this, you smiled hard. This new information just made Joon 10x better.

"I don't know who they are," Kendall intervened, trying to find some voice in the topic.

The rest of the hour was filled with Joon and you playing the 1975's albums to Kendall as she tried her best to hide her annoyance by shoving her food in her face.

She was definitely not a fan of talent.

Going back to work was a bit easier than before after finding comfort with a lot of the people around you. The three of you were still stuck doing the same job as you heard some of the other interns were either picking up props needed for a scene or being a personal assistant to Finn.

In fact, you hadn't seen many people as rehearsal was moved to another building on the lot. Another hour or two went by before Finn went up to Joon and you to cut you for the day.

"At least we don't have to stay late," Joon beamed, taking off the gloves he was wearing before folding them back into his little backpack. "I heard he's making some people stay till 6 for some heavy-lifting duties- thank god I wasn't chosen."

"Why? Because you aren't strong enough?" you laughed as he let out a small gasp in offense.

"To think we were becoming best friends," he pouted. "But I had a back injury over a year ago so they can't really make me lift anything more than 30 pounds."

Feeling bad for teasing him, you immediately tried taking back your horrible joke. "I didn't mean t-"

"It's cool, no need to beg for forgiveness," he smiled. "Just a little something I don't tell many people, it isn't a big deal majority of the time."

Throwing a weak- but sincere smile, you nod along. Sure it wasn't a big deal right now, but later it could get worse. You didn't want him to know you felt bad but you assumed he knew by the pity upon your face.

Waving your goodbyes, you texted Jules to figure out where she was. It was a strange feeling not seeing each other all day despite working in the same building, but you did live together so it wasn't like you were missing much.

Finding her fake laughing at some guy's joke, her eyes met yours once you appeared by the door of the break room. Immediately, she patted the young boy who didn't look a day over 18 on the back before skipping happily towards you.

"I take it you had a fun day?"

"The best," she grinned, flipping a piece of hair behind her back. "I finally know what an affogato is- it really isn't that amazing as it sounds though. Just a shot of espresso poured on top of a drink."

Laughing, both of you continued down the hall in hopes of quickly finding a cab to take you to the subway. With the timing of your release, you were sure there was going to be so much traffic out these doors that you weren't ready to deal with.

Swinging the exit door open, you didn't expect to find Joon waiting outside with his hands in his pockets, looking down the street praying for an available cab to drive by.

"That hard to catch a ride, huh" Jules sighed, pulling out her phone as Joon slumped, bummed out. "Uber it is."

Seconds later you felt the doors behind you open again but didn't bother to turn, Joon and you too focused on peeking at Jules' phone as she complained about why an app that was supposed to be used when in need always took forever to arrive.

Two people walked a few feet to the side of you three and that's when you could see from the corner of your eye their figures stopping. Moving your head, you caught a view of a man scanning his phone and another glancing at you. It was Pedro.

"And what are you doing out here in the cold, you look like a chihuahua shivering to death," he chuckled, taking steps towards you.

"Is that a compliment?" you questioned, tilting your head as he gave you a smug look, making you guess for yourself.

"Pretty sure he's means you look like a rodent," Jules dryly commented, swiping through her phone before groaning loudly. "Goddammit! The nearest driver is 25 minutes away, I don't want to be waiting that long for a ride that's probably gonna be my whole day's pay."

Realizing the situation you and your friends were in, Pedro lifts a hand trying to get attention. "You guys need a ride? I drove here and-"

"No thank-," you intervene.

"-yes, please," Jules cuts you off, sending you a small glare as you gave one back.

You were not going to ask someone you met just this morning for a ride home. It's too much.

Pedro laughed at the sight of you two yelling at each other through your minds. Telepathy really works when it comes to your friends. Joon just stood there, not really caring what decision we came to terms with. He figured since Jules and you stayed with him long enough he could join along with whatever you two did, so it was up to you guys to make the final move.

"Okay, don't kill each other," Pedro joked, making you move your eyes away from Jules back to him. "How about I drive you three home and you can help me with my makeup this week- so you won't feel like you're taking too much from me."

Squinting, you made a face. "But I already have to do that- it's part of my job."

"She agreed! Let's go," Pedro exclaimed, waving his right arm to you guys to follow him, ignoring you as you tried to debate as to why doing your job wasn't helpful enough.

As Jules kept trying to shut your mouth by placing her palms on it during the walk inside the parking garage, Joon kept looking back confused. "Wait, what about the man? Was he leaving with you?"

Taking a quick glance towards the direction Joon was looking at, Pedro shrugged before pulling out his car keys. "His wife is picking him up."

Joon slowly nodded, not completely convinced that was the case but he'd let it go this time.

Hearing a car beep, you saw a very nice black car's light flash quickly. Walking up closer, Pedro went to the passenger side and opened it while staring at you. "Get in, loser."

Awkwardly standing there, you shook your head and look towards the backseat. "Uh, no- I'm fine with sitting in the back. Maybe Joon can have it since he is the tallest one here."

Joon shook his head. "I'm happy with sitting in the back, ladies first."

Pedro agreed with his last comment, lifting his head to get in the car as you continued to reject his kindness. He already offered you a ride home, you weren't able to take the front seat.

You both continued to fight about the seat before Jules flapped her arms and jumped inside instead. "We are not going to argue for hours over a seat, I'll take it."

Lowering your shoulders, you smiled as Pedro sent you a displeased look. Heading towards the door, Joon opened the door for you, kindly sending you a warm smile. You returned one back and moved to the seat behind the drivers.

Joon followed after you and sat behind Jules as you could see Pedro speed walk around the car, quickly jumping in. He turned towards the back, glancing at the two of you. "Where to?"

"Jules," you called out. She pulled out her phone and showed it to him before saying, "this is it."

"City girls," he blurted out. "The rats on the streets must be a sight to see."

"Let me see?" Joon asked before her phone was shoved to his face. "Hey, I live three streets away from here. Nice."

"We're basically neighbors," you nudged him, making him do the same as Pedro and Jules just stared at the both of you.

"Anyway," Pedro let out a small laugh, "let's go before I change my mind."

Putting the car in reverse, drive, and zooming off, we were on our way. The ride was filled with Jules playing with the radio, Pedro nicely trying to get her fingers off his screen, and Joon calling out the different trees he'd seen out the window the entire time.

At one point Joon even handed you his phone and asked for your number in case either of you needed help with the internship or the cheesy joke of one of you needing sugar in the middle of night.

Once he was dropped off, it took less than ten minutes to arrive to your apartment building.

"You can just pull in right there," Jules declared, pointing at an open spot in front of our lobby doors.

Taking a quit scan, you objected. "No, that's for emergencies only. Just go around the block, we can walk."

Jules protested, pleading Pedro to not give in to your nonsense. "This is an emergency- I want to go home already!"

"It's a red line; therefore, no parking."

Pedro laughed as you raised your voice, determined to not let him get away with this. You were not about to pay for a ticket just because she couldn't walk a few feet...and then a few more to get home.

"Is she always this stubborn?" Pedro jested, earning a hard raise of the eyebrows from Jules.

"You should see her when we study. If you aren't there on time you're kicked out of the discord." Smacking her arm, she huffs and smacks you back.

"I need to be apart of this discord," Pedro stated, making you roll your eyes.

"It's for students only, grandpa," you replied, causing him to gasp.

"That's not how you should treat someone who gave you a ride across town, intern," he retorted and pulled up along the red crub, making Jules laugh as you sent him a dirty look.

So he's pulling that card.

Jules opened her side of the door, stepping out before grabbing her bag and leaning down against the window. "Welp, I am going inside before he personally fires me for befriending you. See you inside and thanks Mr. man who can still get me fired even though he's not my boss!"

Next thing you knew, she was opening the entrance doors and sliding right inside them. It was time for you to go as well.

You could see him grab his phone, unlocking it, and then placing it right in front of your face. "Give me your number."

Scoffing, you pushed his hand away. "Not even going to ask?"

"We both know you're too difficult to easily agree to a question like that," he countered, pushing it back towards you, not leaving until you accepted it.

Was it unprofessional to be giving the main lead of a new television series your personal number? Maybe a lot of people do it, you mean there are plenty of workers who end up friends with cast members all the time on sets.

You're sure these workers have given their numbers away on multiple occasions.

Handing him back his phone, he grinned. "Great, now I can directly reach you whenever I need coffee."

"Only during work hours," you replied, shaking your pointer finger at him. "I don't get paid overtime unless I am on the clock."

He chuckled, twisting his body to get a better view of you. "Yeah, yeah. We'll see about that."

With that, he jumped out of the car and opened your car door, allowing you to step outside and be met with the freezing temperatures once again.

How much you hate the cold when its windy.

"See you tomorrow, kid," he scanned over, waiting for you to comeback with some snarky remark for his pet name.

Stepping away from his car and meeting the sidewalk, you turned around towards him to find him leaning against his door now, watching you to make sure you make it inside safely.

"Same with you- thanks for the ride, grandpa," you smirked, making him suppress a laugh as you turned your back to him again, making your way to the entrance doors.

Two feet away, you stopped when you heard him chant out your name. Seeing him inside his car with his passenger window rolled down, he tried his hardest to move his head against it to see you. "By the way," he started, "you don't look like a rodent."

Feeling flustered by the random yet sweet compliment, you tried hiding your big smile by waving him off, trying to hide your face with your hands and sped walked inside.

You hoped he didn't see the tint on your cheeks.

Unfortunately, your hopes never come true.

[baby-yongbok]

Poetry

Chapter Two - It's a Date

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, dare I say slow burn? The type that tickles your heart.

Word Count: 2,661

A/N: Ya'll voted for a part 2 but I honestly would've probably made this a mini series regardless 😭. I love this story with my whole heart and I hope you do too. I decided that I'll be uploading the chapters for this series on Thursdays at 6pm EST. Anyway, Enjoy! Any and all feedback is appreciated!

Summary: That cute stranger that you met at your favorite bookstore cafe is anything but a stranger now.

Part One

✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧

✧Main Masterlist✧

(Reading part one before reading this is highly recommended)

“Six o’clock on the dot. We should start paying you for coming here.” Amanda, the cafe owner, joked as you walked through the doors of the small bookstore. 

“Yeah? I think I’d like that, I could use the extra money.” You smiled at her as you clutched a stack of books to your chest. “Oh, these are donations by the way. All brand new, my brother is cleaning out his office and business management isn’t exactly my cup of tea.”

You place the stack of books neatly on the counter in front of Amanda and she flashes you a genuine smile. “This is why you’re my favorite customer. Here, your next drink is on us.”

Amanda hands you a coupon that you gratefully accept. You’ve learned a long time ago that declining her offers is futile. “Oh and I think that someone is here for you.” 

She wiggles her eyebrows teasingly and you furrow yours. You turn around and a soft smile spreads across your face. Your eyes land on Hyunjin’s tall frame sitting cross legged at one of the free tables in the nearly empty cafe. An iced americano in one hand and a book in the other. 

“He’s been here for thirty minutes.” Amanda whispers over to you and your smile spreads wider. 

“Of course he’s early.” You shake your head, chuckling a bit. “Thanks for the coupon.” 

You wave your goodbye to Amanda and start to make your way over to Hyunjin who seems to be completely engrossed in his book. You steal a glance at the cover and raise your eyebrows at his current literary choice. 

“Life is so constructed, that the event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.” Your voice catches his attention causing him to sit up straighter as he takes you in with a smile. 

“You’ve read it?” He asks, referring to your quote as he places his bookmark and closes the novel. 

“I’m a bit of a Charlotte Brontë connoisseur.” You reply with a shrug. “I did my thesis on that novel for my senior year of college.”

“I’ll have to pick your brain about it once I’ve finished it.” 

You watch him as he stands and stretches a bit. You take a second to drink in his appearance, his orange and black crocodile print sweater and black slacks fitting his frame perfectly. You have no doubt that it’s expensive just like everything else that he’s worn during your Thursday evening meetings. Once he’s satisfied with his stretch he pushes in his chair and circles the table to stand in front of you. He holds a hand out to you and you slip your fingers over his slender ones. He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it gently, a grin pulling at his lips. 

“You look lovely tonight.” He looks you over slowly, taking in the form fitting glory of your black pencil skirt and the contrast it has to your baggy maroon sweater tucked in just in the front. 

“You say that every Thursday.” You playfully roll your eyes and Hyunjin smiles, shaking his head in agreement. 

“Because you look stunning every Thursday. I can’t wait to see you on a Monday or a Tuesday.” You blush a bit, looking away from him in an attempt to hide your reaction. 

The two of you have been meeting at this bookstore cafe, Adore, for two weeks now, today being the third. You’ve found yourself planning your outfit for this day of the week as soon as you wake up on Friday. Each time that the two of you say goodbye you can’t help but to think about the next time that you’ll see him and all of the questions that you’ll ask him. Hyunjin was no different, he found himself thinking about you like a teenager who just asked their crush to prom. His roommates started teasing him for the extra work that he’d been putting into his appearance. Every Thursday he’d spend an extra thirty minutes in the bathroom making sure that his hair looked just right since you complement it every time you see him. He’d gone on for about an hour asking his roommate Felix for his opinion on different colognes even though he normally doesn’t bother to wear any. He even took on an earlier work schedule so he’d be available for your meetings. Anything to see you again. 

“Thank you.” You whisper and he nods in response. He grabs his bag from the back of his chair and packs his novel away before grabbing his drink. 

“Shall we browse?” You nod your head, lacing your fingers together behind your back before taking a step forward. It seems that you both had the same idea since the two of you bump into each other softly. You both chuckle lightly and Hyunjin moves his free hand to the small of your back to guide you in front of him. “Ladies first.” 

His words come out in such a whisper that you could barely hear him but that could also be due to your heart thumping in your ears as a chill runs over you. You shake your head trying to play off your reaction to the small physical contact but you can’t help it, his touch is electric. The two of you trail off into the poetry section and you know exactly what you’re looking for. 

“I take it that you have someone in mind?” Hyunjin asks with a curious glance as you browse the shelves. You nod, your gaze never leaving the organized spines lined up on the shelves. 

“There!” You reach forward quickly, plucking the book from the neat stack and holding it up to show Hyunjin. 

“Rupi Kaur, I can’t say that I’m familiar with her.” Your face twists in disapproval causing a small chuckle to fall from Hyunjins blushed lips. “Why don’t you introduce me to her work.” 

“ If you like R.H. Sin then you’ll love her.” You look down the aisle both ways to make sure that no one is around before kneeling down and sitting on the dark carpet. Hyunjin looks down at you with furrowed brows as you take off your bag and place it next to you. Once you’re settled you look up at him returning his confused expression. “Are you coming?”

You pat the carpeted floor next to you and Hyunjins confused stare quickly melts into a gentle look of admiration. He nods his head before joining you on the floor, sitting next to you with his back resting lightly on the book shelf. He glances over at you as you study the hardcover book in your hands, your fingers tracing over the embossed words. He takes in the steadiness of your breath and the way you hum ever so slightly when you notice a new detail on the cover. He doesn’t notice the grin that’s creeped across his lips until you look up at him, he looks away quickly as a blush creeps across his cheeks. You mimic his actions, blushing a bit yourself. A few seconds of quiet surround the two of you before Hyunjin breaks the barrier. 

“May I?” He asks, gesturing towards the hardcover in your hands. You let out a deep relieved sigh and nod at him. You hand the book over to him, the tips of your fingers brush lightly against his and you both still momentarily at the contact. You both had to have felt that shock run up your spines right? The two of you decide to shake it off quickly, concluding that it was merely a case of static electricity. Hyunjin looks down at the book in his hands, turning it over and taking in the words on the back cover. He clears his throat a bit before reading the text on the back.

“This is the recipe of life, said my mother as she held me in her arms as I wept…” You listen closely to each word that his voice carries. Sinking into your own little bubble, this time that the two of you reserved every Thursday served as a calming ground for the both of you. Nothing else mattered right now, the only thing that exists is the two of you and the poetry that you shared. 

“The sun and her flowers.” Hyunjin read the title as he flipped the book back over to its front. “I have to admit that I’m very interested.” 

He opens the book to its contents and reads off the name of each section. “ Wilting, Falling, Rooting, Rising, Blooming.”

You nod as you look over the grayed out page with him. “Which section do you think you belong in?”

Hyunjin looks over at you, a bit taken back by your question. Your large doe eyes stared back at his shining narrow ones patiently waiting for his response. “Uh, I don't really know.”

You nod, catching on to his hesitance. You look forward for a second, your eyes mindlessly scanning the spines of the books in front of you before you do what you wanted to do last Thursday. Slowly and carefully you lean your head to the side gently resting your temple on his shoulder. You feel him tense a bit at the sudden contact but he quickly relaxes into your touch even leaning over a bit to give you better access to his shoulder. 

“I think that right now I belong in falling.” You watch as Hyunjin silently flips through the pages before landing on the first page of the section you mentioned. He licks his lips before reading the poem. 

“I notice everything I do not have and decide it is beautiful.” He lets out a deep sigh that he wasn’t aware that he was holding before shaking his head. 

“I think that maybe I belong here too.” 

His fingers run over the picture placed under the poem, imitating pencil strokes as he studies it. You turn slightly to look up at him, studying his slow blinks as his brown orbs focus on the page. The gentle air escaping his nose tickles your lashes as he exhales but you don’t dare blink, too afraid that you’ll miss a moment of him. What is this that you’re feeling? 

“But I don’t think that I can say that everything that I don’t have is beautiful, not yet.” His eyes don’t leave the page as he continues to imitate the abstract strokes. “Well, there is one thing that I don’t have.” 

His words come out in a whisper and his gaze suddenly shifts over to you. His brown orbs are looking deep into yours. Your breathing picks up slightly as you will yourself not to look away.

“And it’s definitely beautiful.” His gaze is intense yet soft as he looks over your features. You notice that his eyes wander over your lips a bit longer than everything else before meeting your eyes again. “I guess I have to convince myself that I deserve beautiful things.” 

He lets out a light sigh and you can’t help but to bring your hand to lay on top of his. 

“You are more than worthy of beautiful things, Hyunjin.” He grins down at you gently before tearing his gaze away from yours. 

“Perhaps I am.” He whispers more to himself than to you. Suddenly he lets out a deeper sigh as he closes the book. “Have you eaten yet?”

You return his sigh as you lift your head from his shoulder. You can’t help but to wonder what he meant, why would he think that he doesn’t deserve to indulge in beauty? You shake the thoughts from your mind, not wanting to ruin your Thursday night with him. “I haven’t”

“Would you like something?”

“I can make something when I get back to my place, money is a bit tight for me right now.” 

“My treat.” He hums out simply as he studies the spine of the hardcover in his hands.

“I’m alright.” You chuckle and he looks over at you with a bit of concern drawn on his features.

“Really it’s no problem. I know that I pay every Thursday but it makes me happy that I can provide you with something as small as refreshments every week. It gives me peace of mind.” You blush a bit at his confession, so he does think about you as much as you think about him.

“Well if it means that much to you..” He smiles down at you with a nod.

“It does.” He shifts suddenly as he moves to stand. He holds his hand out to you and you take it, allowing him to help you up. “They make an amazing tomato caprese sandwich here.” 

“I’ll try it.” He nods at you happily before taking the lead out of the aisle. You follow closely behind him when suddenly you remember something. “Oh!”

You catch Hyunjin’s attention as you walk up a bit faster to stand beside him. You rummage through your bag until you find what you’re looking for.

“I have a coupon for a free drink!” You muse excitedly and Hyunjin can’t help but to laugh at your sudden elation. 

“Keep it, I appreciate it but I’ve got this.”

“Oh come on! Let me help.” You pout a bit as the two of you reach the register and Hyunjin puts in the order for the two of you, he’s already memorized your drink order so little discussion is needed. Once your order is placed and paid he turns to your pouting face with a warm smile.

“You know what? There is a way that you can help.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks and you perk up a bit as you listen to him. 

“Anything.” You smile up at him, wide eyed and eager to be of use. 

“How about next Thursday we… meet outside of this place. Maybe I could take you on a date?” 

A deep blush creeps onto your swarthy cheeks as his question sinks in. Your lips pressed together in a thin line and you shift the position of your feet slightly. Hyunjin looks down at the dark tile nervously as he waits for you to say something, anything. His nerves began to creep up his spine, spewing doubt into his mind. Just as he was about to retract his offer and apologize you let out a breathy chuckle. 

“I’d really like that.” A toothy smile spreads across his face once he hears your response and you instantly wear one to match once you take in his reaction. 

“Uh, great! I’ll text you the details.” He takes his hand out of his pocket, offering his phone to you. “I can’t believe we haven’t exchanged numbers yet.” 

A shy chuckle escapes him as the two of you exchange phones and input your numbers.

“There you go.” You hand his phone back to him, your giddy smile still present on your red painted lips. 

“Alright, well um, I’ll text you everything you need to know once I plan it.” He says as he stares down at your contact for a second too long, he bites his lip slightly to try and hold back his smile. 

“It’s a date.” You both stand in front of each other smiling like enliven children at an ice cream parlor. “I’ll go grab us a table.” 

Hyunjin nods at you as you turn on your heels and make your way to your usual booth. He watches you as you walk away from him with awestruck eyes. He allows himself to smile now that you aren’t looking, his eyes turning into shining crescents as excitement builds inside of him. He glances down at your contact one last time before locking his phone and stuffing it back into his pocket, He glances over at you before turning to face the cafe counter and whispers to himself.

“It’s a date.”

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[skinnyazn]

I Will Not Ask and Neither Should You

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader (Jaguar) Chapters: 2/3 Notes: inspired by Hozier's Like Real People Do, Jag Backstory unlocked!!!

Part One | Part Three | AO3 | MASTERLIST Why were you digging? / What did you bury Before those hands pulled me / From the earth? I will not ask you where you came from / I will not ask and neither should you

___

You were in the kitchen getting water for the both of you when the message came in.

55.7249º N, 37.5541º E. Tuesday, 14:00. 

The +7 country code made a cold sweat break over your body. Russia. You didn’t know how the sender got your number, but if it was who you thought, they would have their ways. All you could do was stare at your phone as your heart hammered through your chest.

“Everything al’right?”

You hadn’t even noticed Simon come up behind you.

“Mmhmm,” you managed, passing him a glass of water as you set your phone screen-down on the counter. You lowered your head onto your arms, resting them on the surface to hide your face while you backed your nakedness against the colossus of a man. A raspy grunt was his response.

“Dangerous, Jag,” Simon warned, but closed the gap all the same. He kissed your shoulders and back, setting down the glass of water next to your phone. “Heart’s racin’,” he murmured against your skin as his hands smoothed down to your hips. “Can hear it from ‘ere.”

“You have that effect on me.” It wasn’t a lie—not usually. But at present, the contents of the text message were still etched into your brain. You felt like throwing up.

“Thought you needed a break, luv.”

“Changed my mind,” you tried your best to even your voice, but it still came out shaky.

Ghost’s hands stilled on your hips as he paused. “We don’t ‘ave to—” 

“Need you, Simon,” you interrupted, raising your head to look back at him while snaking his tattooed hand up and around your neck.

Dark eyes glinted in the low light, looking at the phone on the counter, then searching yours for a moment—for an out, a reason. But all they found was benediction. He tightened his grip around your throat and kissed you softly.

When your beautiful man was finally asleep, sound and unsuspecting, you hated yourself for exploiting his weaknesses. For knowing that he got sloppy around you in this domestic setting; that he slept deeper—you both did—after a few rounds. That he knew you’d get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or refill your water.

You slipped out of the warm bed, packing as quietly as you could—shoving your life with Simon “Ghost” Riley into your black duffel. Hating yourself more as you scribbled on the back of a receipt and set it down next to his mask.

Something I have to do. 

You looked at him one last time—perhaps for the final time. His blonde hair was exposed, his ultimate layer of trust in you; you watched his scared back softly rise and fall as he slept. Numbness ran through your body at stupidity of thinking you’d finally escaped your past. Cut all the ties. That you naively thought you had built something here, too. People in your line of work never get happy endings. Your throat tightened as you slipped through the front door, locking it behind you. Your cab was already gone by the time he woke.

______

Moscow was frigid and covered in a light dusting of snow when you landed. And all those memories of a life left behind seeped back up from their well of suppression on the cab ride to the coordinates. It seemed like a lifetime ago. In a way, it was. There was a split in the road then, where you made a choice. One that lead you to San Francisco and to Kokshetau and to Leeds. One where you chose your life. 

Yet here you were, back in the cold and snow—despair growing in the pit of your stomach with each mile passed. You worried your jaguar pendant between gloved fingers.

The cab stilled in front of large bronze doors, now a dull green after centuries of oxidation.

Новодевичье кладбище: Novodevichy Cemetery.

You paid the fare and got out, duffel slung over your shoulder. There were tourists and locals alike visiting the historic cemetery. It made you even more on edge as you entered through the double doors. You were too vulnerable out here in the open. 

Checking your watch, you were thirty minutes early, giving you enough time to scope out the location. It calmed you some, passing by the beautiful tombstones and monuments of Russia’s most notable and respected citizens. Anton Chekhov, Vera Mukhina, Lyudmila Gurchenko. Pristine marble and greying stone and wet concrete. It was an odd location for a meeting but you hoped with all the people around you could let your guard down a little. You wandered through the maze of the deceased. But then you saw it: a mound of freshly laid earth and an ornate marble bust. You stopped completely. Felt your heart stuck in your throat and a flush of heat to your face. Your hands went numb as you just stared. 

Vladislava Ignatyev.

The thread that lead you to where you were now. In memory you heard the gentle clink of a tea cup and the soft rustling of a maid’s dress.

You’d make a fine spy one day, my beautiful Odette.

That your wish or mine?

Neither. It’s your nature, dear. The same way a fish takes to water or a swan flight. 

…

You can give me that look but you know I’m right. You were a caged, pretty little thing when I discovered you. And now you’ve grown majestically into your true nature. Just remember who gave you your wings when you are enjoying your freedom. My door will always be open for you…

The marble bust on the cold floor did the older woman no justice. It failed to capture her elegance and the magnitude of her character. You’d learned so much from her. Vladislava was a woman who silenced a room when she entered, through no other means than just being her. And now she was in the cold ground beneath you. Beauty and stature decaying. You wanted to cry but the tears would not come.

“It’s you…”

The gentle voice snapped you to the present again. Standing across from you was a handsome man, with blonde, wavy hair falling to frame his young face. His blue eyes took you in.

You inhaled deeply. “Dimitri.”

He smiled and you felt a tightness in your chest.

“I…I was not sure you would come.” Low chatter from the other visitors passing by filled the silence as you took each other in. His smile grew wider. “You look so different, and yet exactly how I remember you.”

“And you’ve grown,” you found yourself returning the smile slightly. Dimitri shifted on his feet, like he wanted to take your hand like he used to, but knowing that too much time had passed. You continued, “Surprised you even recognized me.”

He looked at you kindly and chuckled. “You weren’t always in ballet attire, my lisIchka. The short hair suits you though.”

You ran your gloved fingers through your choppy hair, recalling the muscle memory that had sleeked it into a taught bun countless times in the past—not a flyway in sight. Streamline. Efficient. Orderly. Your true nature. 

Dimitri stepped around the grave so that he was facing it too, the both of you staring at the bust on the floor.

“We were just kids, then, weren’t we?”

You hummed. “You more-so.” You sucked in a breath. “When did she pass?”

“Last week. A stroke. It was so sudden—she had been in perfectly good health," his voice wavered slightly. “I was the one who found her in her bed in the morning. She just looked like she was sleeping...”

The statue’s hollowed eyes stared into nothingness. You had to look away, so you looked up at Dimitri. “I owe your mother a lot. I… I’m sorry I never came back,” you paused, studying the side of his face. He must be twenty six now—a decade gone in the blink of an eye; all those memories of the two of you when you were younger filtered back. You steadied your breath. “But I had to experience the world for myself.”

The younger man turned to you. “I understand. Never could keep you caged. No one could.”

You smiled but it didn’t meet your eyes. Nostalgia was a deceiver.

Dimitri cleared his throat. “There is another reason I asked you here, though. Something I have for you. From Vladislava.”

He reached into his wool peacoat and procured a long velvet box. Hesitating, you reached for the it, staring at the plain box in your hands before opening it. 

It was the necklace that Vladislava had worn the night you first met: a massive canary diamond choker, surrounded by ornate gold and diamonds. You recalled the burning in your legs as you took your closing bow for the Vaganova Ballet Academy, peering into the crowd and seeing a glint of yellow among the blur of the audience. She’d come to you after, as you were removing all the feathers and makeup backstage. Introduced herself. You had no idea her influence at the time; you were only eighteen. But soon you were living with her. Wandering her massive estate with Dimitri. Being her eyes and ears at events with the most affluent; sometimes the most corrupt as well. Learning all you could from her as you started down a completely different path than when you first moved to Russia.

The significance of the necklace wasn’t lost on you as you stared down at the gorgeous piece. You closed the box quietly.

“I can’t take this, Dima,” you passed the box back to him, but he didn’t move. He just looked down at you, fondness in his eyes at the familiarity of his moniker. He wrapped his hands over yours.

“I'm afraid you don’t have a choice, lisIchka. It was in her will.” His hands stayed for a moment, then fell back to his side. 

You simply stared at the box. 

“You know,” he said softly, moving slightly closer to you, “there’s always a place for you here. In Moscow. At our home.”

And for a moment, the sun peaked through the grey day, alighting Dima’s golden hair. But when you looked at him, all you saw was Simon and his flat and the rain and his warmth. You gave a sad smile.

“Ah,” he said, understandingly.

You reached out and took his hand, running your gloved-thumb over his knuckles. “In another life, perhaps.”

He squeezed back. “I’ll look for you, then.”

You heart hurt at the whole situation. Vladislava was a force, now extinguished. And a childhood crush had clearly become something more. You held onto him for a while longer, then finally let go of his hand.

“Well, you must be exhausted from your travels,” Dima looked around. The oppressive sky was continuing to lighten. “To be honest I wasn’t sure you would even come, but I reserved a room for you at the Kempinski anyway. Stay as long as you need.”

You tucked the box into you jacket and looked at the younger man one last time, reaching up to touch his face. “Thank you for everything, Dima.” He leaned into your caress. “Take care of yourself.”

“And you.”

You gave a final glance at the grave, then left, not looking back. ______

Dima bb we're so sorry T^T Thanks for the wait, one more chapter to go! if you'd like to be (un)tagged for updates let me know! @deadbranch @solidly-indulgent @aalxrose @dotcie

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 14

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 11/29

Word Count: 7.3K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Friday afternoon rolled around and you were picking up your classroom. The chaos of the school week always left the room needing a little attention at the end but you were taking more time than usual. You busied yourself with organizing materials for the next week, tossing broken pencils that had been carelessly discarded on the floor, and wiping down the tops of the desks. For once, you were in no hurry to run out the door, knowing you were facing a long weekend alone once again. 

You’d effectively avoided everyone from the group since your shocking admission Tuesday night, mostly by not answering your phone any time that it rang. You knew your sister would be frantic if she’d been the one calling, but you couldn’t risk it. You didn’t need even more pity from more people again. And honestly, you could barely admit to yourself what a fool you’d been. How could you tell Kim that you’d let some jerk treat you like shit all over again? You couldn’t, not your strong, wise-ass sister who would never allow a man’s lies to get her into bed.

You wanted nothing more than to go back in time and keep your big mouth shut. In the heat of the moment, it felt good to call him out on his bullshit. He deserved every single ounce of your anger and then some for treating you the way he had. You weren't some tissue to be used and discarded in the trash. But once you’d gotten back to your house, riding your bike through the haze of angry tears that coated your eyes, you’d been horrified and ashamed at your public declaration. 

How would you ever look any of them in the eye again now that they knew you’d allowed Eddie to use you like that? That you’d been dumb enough to believe the pretty words that had come out of that pretty mouth. You should have known better. Of course he didn’t mean anything that he’d said. He’d told you exactly what you wanted to hear and you’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. He’d known you would be vulnerable to his charms after what Cam and Cassie had done and used it to his advantage. Once again, you had chosen to ignore the evidence in front of you in favor of what you wanted to believe instead. You’d wanted to believe he wanted you  truly wanted you, but all he wanted was to find out what you were like in the sack.

You looked up from the desk you had been scrubbing when there was a soft knock on the door to find Gareth standing there, a sheepish smile on his face, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans, as he gave you a small wave. You straightened up, wondering what would have brought him to the school on a Friday afternoon. And why would he still assume you were here? Your thoughts took you nowhere good, hoping nothing had happened between Lance and Charlie after school.

“Hey,” he said, taking a hesitant step into the classroom, a gritted smile on his face, “I hope you don’t mind me just dropping by like this.”

“No, of course not. Is everything okay?” Your eyes moved over to the clock that hung to the left of the door. “School let out half an hour ago. Charlie made it home okay, right?”

“Yeah. He’s fine. He’s over on the playground with a couple of his friends and asked if he could play for a while before we headed home. It’s such a nice day so I figured why not and…” Gareth told you, stuffing both hands into his pockets now, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I uh…well, it worked for me because I was actually standing out there waiting for you to come out so I could talk to you but you never did. I wondered if I missed you. So, I figured I’d pop in and check.”

“Okay…” you said slowly, the hairs on the back of your neck rising in suspicion. If he wasn’t here about Charlie, then there was only one other reason you could come up with. A reason you had no desire to talk about. You tossed your rag on the table, propping your hip on top and folding your arms. “So, what did you need?”

“Uh…well…” Gareth ran a hand over the back of his neck, his face scrunching in a way that let you know he was pretty uncomfortable about whatever this was, only making you even more suspicious that this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. Certainly not a conversation you wanted to have with one of Eddie’s best friends, someone who would only defend him and make up excuses for his appalling behavior. “Look, this is really awkward. I probably shouldn’t be saying anything. It’s none of my business but…”

“It isn’t any of your business,” you stated, adding when he looked up at you, surprised, “I assume you’re here to talk about Eddie. I can’t imagine anything to do with your kid that would be this uncomfortable for you.”

He sighed, “You’re right. It is. I just, look, I know he can be an asshole.”

“That’s the understatement of the century…” you muttered, your fingers running over the top of the desk, trying to remind yourself that your anger was at Eddie, not at Gareth. Gareth was the parent of one of your students. You had to be careful what you said, how you treated him. You had to be professional no matter how you felt. Besides, you really liked him and you knew his heart was in the right place. He seemed like a decent guy, unlike his friend.

He chuckled hoarsely, pulling at the collar of his shirt, “Yeah. Maybe. But I heard what you said the other night at the bar. I mean, about what happened between you two. It was a little hard not to hear.”

Your eyes slipped closed, your face blazing with shame. Of course he’d heard it. The whole bar had to have heard it. By now, everyone in town probably knew. You hadn’t exactly been quiet about it, screaming it at his face as you lost all self-control in the throes of your white hot rage, and now you had to live with the consequences of it. 

“Yeah, okay, and what about it?”

“The thing is, I know you’re probably thinking he’s some manwhore who sleeps with a bunch of different girls and drops them all the time but he’s not.” 

You snorted, rolling your eyes. Of course his best friend was going to defend him. Did he really expect you to believe that Eddie didn’t sleep around after he’d just blown you off? Or were you just the exception, so distasteful to him that he couldn’t stomach the idea of even telling you on the phone that he wasn’t interested?

Gareth’s hand rose in front of him, “I know you have no reason to believe me. You don’t know me. You don’t even know him that well but I’m telling you the truth. I haven’t seen Eddie with anybody in years. There’ve been a couple girls here and there. And I’m not saying he hasn’t had some one-night stands. I mean who hasn’t, right? But both people knew what it was going into it. He doesn’t lead people on. He’s…I’m shocked he was even willing to have sex with you honestly.”

“Wow, thanks,” you snorted, folding your arms over your chest.

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, he’s really self-conscious, you know, of his scars and shit. I assume since you two, well, you know, that you saw them. He doesn’t like to take his shirt off, ever. He had one girl who…well, they’d been dating for like a month and when they went to do the deed and his shirt came off, she looked repulsed. She visibly cringed and lurched back from him, asking what the hell that was. Eddie told her about the…you know, the raccoons. She asked him if he could just keep his shirt on when they had sex. You have no idea what that did to his head, man. He won’t even take it off at the pool anymore so the fact that he was willing to show you, to literally bare himself to you, risk your reaction, I don’t know. It makes me think that you’re special.”

Your fingers pressed against your forehead, your heart aching at the thought of Eddie, standing bare. Being as vulnerable as you can be in front of a woman who made him feel anything less than beautiful. You had seen him, seen every single part of him, and there wasn’t a single inch of him that wasn’t magnificent, scars or not. Jesus, the guy could not catch a break. It seemed like all anybody ever did was let him down and tear him down, everybody besides his friends, the only people he let peek through that wall he’d built around himself.

And here you were again, torn, a state that you seemed to perpetually be in when it came to Eddie. Wanting to slap him across the face while, at the same time, wanting to hold him against your chest and make all the bad shit go away.

“If I am so special, then why did he rush out after? Why didn’t he even bother to call?” you demanded, wanting to believe him but terrified to allow yourself to.

“Honestly? Eddie is a locked box, man. He used to be this really open, loud, and proud guy who didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him. He didn’t care that they called him a freak. He wore it like a goddamn badge of honor. He figured if they were going to label him, then he may as well live up to it. He was fun. He was…Eddie. But after all that shit went down with the murders, he changed. He pulled everything into himself. He stopped letting people in. Hell, it’s hard for me to get him to tell me anything and we’ve been friends since fifth grade. So my guess is you scare the shit out of him because he wants to let you in but he doesn’t know how. I guess I’m just saying…I mean, what I came here to say, is maybe don’t give up on him just yet. I really think you could be good for him.”

“I don’t know, Gareth,” you mumbled, thinking back to Tuesday night, the vicious way he’d grinned at you as he basically said that what you had done meant nothing to him. 

“I know. I’m not saying you have to decide anything right now. Just maybe think about it. He’s a jerk but I swear to you, he’s a jerk worth knowing because there’s a good guy in there. There’s a guy who is so damn loyal and who will do anything, I mean anything, for the people he cares about. There’s a guy who could be the best damn person you’ve ever met if you’re willing to work for it.” He shrugged. “That’s all I really came to say. I’m not trying to pressure you. I just wanted you to have all the facts because he’s my friend and after everything he’s been through, he deserves to be happy. And it sounds like you do, too. I’ll let you get back to…cleaning or whatever. Have a good weekend, teach, and thanks again for taking such good care of my boy.” “Of course. Charlie’s a great kid. You’ve done an amazing job with him,” you smiled. “You have a good weekend too.”

You sat on the edge of the table for probably far longer than it seemed after Gareth left, your mind like a runaway train going off the rails. Could he be right? Who would know Eddie better than him except maybe his uncle? And he’d cared enough to come find you and talk. Why would he have even bothered if he didn’t believe what he said? 

Oh, but the thought of fighting back, of trying to get Eddie to let you in, to chip away at those walls, was so damn exhausting. You felt you would collapse under the weight of just considering it. Was it worth that much energy? Maybe Gareth was wrong and Eddie had never wanted you to begin with, never wanted anything from you besides finding out what the new girl was like in bed. It was high school all over again. You were the shiny, new toy that the cute boy wanted before all the others got a chance. You groaned, dropping back onto the desk, your arms draping over the sides as you stared at the ceiling, thinking maybe you’d just stay here all weekend, on this hard desk.

“Girl, it’s Friday. What in the hell are you still doing here? Are you planning on taking a nap?” asked Leslie with a laugh, poking her head in the door. 

“No. Just thinking about stuff, cleaning up a bit, and making sure I’m ready for Monday.”

“All of that stuff will still be here on Monday. All of that crap you’re pondering will still be waiting too. If this is about that meeting or those boys, that issue isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Let it go for now,” your co-teacher scoffed, waving her hand. “Seriously, girl, grab your stuff and go home. Come on. It’s a Friday night. You’ve got to have something better to do than hang out at school.”

“Not really,” you mumbled, swallowing down the lump of heartache that formed as you admitted how very pathetic you were. “I’ll probably just go home, lay on my couch, and dwell on all the horrendous fuck-ups I’ve made with my life. I thought I had made some friends but that didn’t really work out.”

Leslie’s lips compressed together, her shoulder resting against the frame of the door, “Damn. This is just sad. Alright girl, I am not going to let you wallow in whatever this is. You and I are going to get a drink because you sure look like you could use one and I know I could. And then you can tell me about whatever happened with these friends.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have plans. I’m fine. I’m just being pathetic and self-pitying but I’ll get past it.”

“Look, we’re all pathetic and self-pitying at times. You know what the perfect cure for that is? Talking and drinking. My only plans for the night were with a bottle of Merlot, a bubble bath, and a smutty book,” Leslie shrugged. “It can wait a few hours. Come on. Grab your stuff. There’s a bar right around the corner.”

____________________________________________________________

The bar was called Cheers and Beers. It was another little hole-in-the-wall place like The Hideout. Hawkins didn’t really have many places that would be considered upscale but this place appeared to be cleaned, at least, on a semi-regular basis. You and Leslie chose a small table in a back corner and Leslie ordered a glass of Merlot, you choosing a bourbon, hoping the burn of the alcohol would sear away everything else you didn’t want to be feeling or thinking.

As the waitress delivered your drinks, Leslie took a sip of her wine and then leaned forward on the table, her chin resting in her hands, “Alright. Spill. So, what happened with these people that you thought were your friends but aren’t now? Did you get in a fight or something?”

“No. I mean, I did fight with one of them, but he’s not even someone I can call a friend. Not really. But I didn’t fight with all of them but now it’s so awkward. I screamed at him in front of everyone. I completely lost my shit and went insane and now they all know what an idiot I am. I’ve completely humiliated myself and there is no way I can face any of them again. They probably think I am pathetic and gullible. I know they definitely think I am a giant whore now.” You tipped back the bourbon, already finishing it off, relishing the slow burn as it ran down your throat.

Leslie choked on her wine, almost spitting blood red liquid all over the table. Covering her mouth, she swallowed it down, setting her wineglass down carefully before wiping her mouth with a napkin. Leaning back in her chair, eyebrows raised, she looked quizzically at you. 

“Okay, now you can’t say something like that without providing more context. Why in the hell would they think you’re a whore? Did you sleep with a bunch of them?”

“No!” you protested, offended that she would even think you were capable of that. “Jesus, of course not.”

Groaning, you waved the waitress over, ordering another bourbon, knowing you were going to need some more liquid fortification if you were going to have any hope of getting through this conversation. Holding up your hand, you paused the conversation until the drink arrived. You took a large drink when it was delivered and then inhaled slowly. 

“Okay, so I met this girl, Max Mayfield, at the diner a few weeks ago when I went in to grab some food. She was really nice and we just got to talking, you know? I told her I was new here and I hadn’t met a lot of people so she invited me out to a bonfire with her friends at the lake. I went and met a whole bunch of people there and I absolutely loved them. They were so kind to me, all except for one. I think you might know him, actually. At least you seemed to that day after school when he was waiting for me.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, deep lines appearing between them, as Leslie thought back and then her eyes went wide with recognition, shooting your way, “Eddie Munson? Eddie Munson was there because he was waiting for you? Oh god. Tell me you didn’t sleep with Eddie Munson!”

Your cheeks heated as you dropped your face into your hands. Even Leslie knew you’d been an idiot to ever trust him. He must have some kind of reputation in town for being a ladies man. Everyone in town probably knew he slept around, leaving a string of heartbroken women behind him. He was in a band. He probably had a different groupie in his bed every single Tuesday night. The very thought twisted your stomach, thinking of some other girl underneath him, his hands stroking her skin, bringing her to levels of ecstasy that you hadn’t even known existed until him. Him whispering those sweet lies in another woman’s believing ear. 

“Jesus Christ. I cannot believe that you slept with the Hawkins Antichrist.”

“I…I’m sorry. The what?” you asked, lifting your head. 

“You really don’t know? He was suspected of murdering a bunch of people in town a decade ago. They couldn’t prove it so he went free but everyone still thinks he did it. He was always so weird and he loved being the outsider. He’d scream and yell about forced conformity and how the government was brainwashing everyone with media propaganda. Seriously, he would jump on top of the cafeteria table at least once a week to rant about some shit. Everybody knew he was crazy. He played some satanic game and brainwashed a bunch of younger kids to join. They even say the game was just a front for a cult and that the murders were actually sacrifices to Satan.”

Your eyes rolled, your stomach twisting up again but this time it was anger stirring within you. So Leslie wasn’t appalled because she thought Eddie was a manwhore. She was appalled because she bought into all the bullshit about him, the same bullshit that asshole Andy was spewing. Your fist clenched around your drink, arm stiff as your muscles tensed.

Maybe you were pissed at Eddie. Maybe you thought he was a son of a bitch for doing what he did to you. Maybe you thought he wasn’t a great guy when it came to women but you would never believe he could do those things. You would never believe the stupid rumors this town seemed insistent on holding onto. It was ridiculous, absolutely insane. And to top it off, the only reason these ignorant people believed it was because he didn’t fit the definition of what they called normal and you could not stand ignorant people who judged things they didn’t even understand.

“Come on. You can’t tell me you buy into all of that bullshit. Leslie, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“You weren’t here,” she argued, her fist coming down onto the table harshly. “You have no idea what it was like. Nothing like that had ever happened in this town before. This was a safe place, a place where people didn’t bother locking their doors and didn’t worry about their kids being out until the streetlights came on. After that, everything changed. People were terrified. They instituted a curfew. Parents were keeping their kids under lock and key, terrified they would be next.”

“Okay, I understand that what happened was awful but that doesn’t mean Eddie had anything to do with it. People only accused him because of how he looked and the things he enjoyed, which metal music and a fantasy game are harmless by the way. He didn’t run a cult, Leslie. He didn’t induct people in. He took in kids who didn’t fit in anywhere else and gave them a safe place. It was seriously just a harmless game. The name of his DnD club was Hellfire. People twisted it all around after the fact to make him the monster they needed him to be.”

“Chrissy, the first victim, was found in his trailer! How do you explain that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t. As you said, I wasn’t there but I am telling you that Eddie had nothing to do with it. There’s no way that he’s capable of something like that.”

Leslie looked at you as if you’d completely lost it, “Are you seriously defending him? I am assuming he dicked you over since you’re refusing to face these new friends of yours. Used you for sex and then he’s done with you and you’re going to sit there and defend him? You don’t even know him. You said you just met him a few weeks ago. Let me guess who your new friends are? Steve Harrington? Nancy Wheeler? Robin Buckley? Jonathan Byers?”

“How…how’d you know that?”

“Because that group were the only ones who stuck by him after everything. They will still defend him with their dying breath. I’ve always wondered if they know more than what they’re saying. That group was always involved in all the weird shit that happened here. The disappearances, the mall fire, the murders…them and those kids that are always with them were always knee deep in that shit. They closed ranks after everything, becoming some little secretive group. It’s seriously weird.”

“Look, I think they do know more about what happened back then than they’re saying but maybe they have good reason to stay quiet. They’re good people, Leslie. I’ve gotten to know them pretty well and they are some of the kindest, most inclusive people I’ve ever met. And maybe they defend Eddie because he deserves it, because they know he’s innocent. Have you ever thought of that?”

Leslie sighed, “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. I really don’t. I like you and I love working with you. You’re an amazing teaching partner. I don't want things between us to be strained. But we might have to agree to disagree here. Eddie hasn’t exactly given anyone any reason to think otherwise. He walks around all surly and has a massive attitude all the time like he’s just waiting for a fight.”

“Of course he does! Can you blame him? This whole town was more than happy to crucify him the minute something happened. They didn’t even consider the possibility that he didn’t do it,” you argued. “Why should he have to prove anything to any of you? Innocent until proven guilty, remember? You all condemned him without any proof. Why should the burden fall on him to prove what should have been assumed to begin with? This town didn’t give him a single reason to want to be friendly.”

“I mean…okay, you’re not completely wrong. I remember the town hall meeting vividly. It was like something from a horror movie, something that you just never think you’ll be a part of. I felt like I was watching a car wreck in action. Jason Carver showed up, completely out of his mind, and ranted about monsters and demons and the whole place was ready to hunt Eddie down themselves. My parents were absolutely convinced he’d done it. I just…I guess it was easy to believe. He’d always been called the freak at school and he seemed to like to live up to that title. He seemed to take pride in it. He was always so different. He didn’t even try to fit in. You know? Most people want to fit in, want to conform but not him.” Leslie paused, thinking. “If he really is innocent, I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for him living in this town after all of that.”

“The others told me he’s had his car vandalized and things thrown at his house, not to mention the awful things people have said to him. He only stayed for his uncle who raised him. He didn’t want to leave him alone. I met his uncle and he’s a really sweet guy. And yeah, Eddie slept with me and seems done with me. He completely used me. He’s a jerk for that. I hate him right now. I mean, I want to punch him right in his nose but I still can’t believe he would do anything like that. He’s an ass but he’s not a murderer.”

A sigh fell from Leslie’s lips as she shrugged, lifting her wine glass, “Well, alright. I guess if you can still think so highly of him after he used you like a cheap prostitute, then I suppose I could consider rethinking my views on him. Maybe this town was wrong. Maybe I was. I just believed what everyone was saying without a shred of proof just like everyone else. I never even considered another possibility until now. They called his followers sheep but I believed my parents like a damn sheep following the flock. It was classic mob mentality now that I think about it. God, I kind of feel like an idiot.”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad,” you assured, lifting your glass to Leslie’s, clinking them together. “I have believed a bunch of bullshit that I shouldn’t have more than one time myself.”

“Well, cheers to us both being dumbasses,” Leslie chuckled.

“Cheers to being blind to the truth,” you agreed, downing the rest of your drink.

___________________________________________________________

Leslie pulled in front of your house to drop you off a few hours later. You’d had every intention of walking back to the school and riding your bike home but you’d wound up drinking one more bourbon and after three, you didn’t quite trust your tipsy self to balance on a bike. Better not to take any chances. The last thing you needed was a broken bone and a hospital bill you couldn’t afford. You would just have to walk over to the school tomorrow to get it. You waved goodbye as Leslie pulled away, thinking at least with the help of some alcohol you’d be able to get some good sleep tonight and stumbled your way up your sidewalk. 

Maybe you’d lost all your new friends. Maybe you’d messed that up completely but that didn’t mean you were completely alone. After your little argument about the ignorance of the town, you and Leslie had a good time together, laughing and talking, finally taking the time to really get to know each other outside of the walls of the school. 

You, who’d been keeping everyone at work at a distance for so long, could see Leslie as someone you’d enjoy spending time with. So, maybe there was still hope for a new life in this town. Maybe you wouldn’t have to run away with your tail between your legs to start over somewhere new again. Maybe you could still find your happy in this place.

A small amber glow to the right of your porch caught your eye as you moved to place your key in the lock. You jumped, jerking as you looked over to find Eddie sitting on your porch swing, legs spread wide in front him, one arm casually draped along the wood backing. He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag before tilting his head back, the smoke slipping from between his lips in a thin line.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No. Hell no. Absolutely not,” you muttered, shaking your head, working to get the key in the door as quickly as possible but your inebriated state was not allowing you to work fast enough as he rose from the swing and made his way over to you. 

“Prom Queen…” he began.

“No. Nope. No way,” you insisted, turning the lock and the knob so hard that you half fell into your foyer. You spun to close the door behind you but his hand shot out, holding it open. You pushed back hard but it provided no resistance against him as he stepped inside, swinging it shut behind him. “What do you think you’re doing? Get the hell out of my house.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until we talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about. You got what you wanted from me, Eddie. Good for you. You fooled me. You had me believing you were a good guy and it got you in my pants. You came, you saw, you conquered. You got the new girl first and proved I’m just as empty headed as you first thought. Now you can walk around all proud of yourself, basking in your glory. So get the fuck out.”

“Goddamn it, that’s not what that was,” Eddie huffed, taking a step toward you as you simultaneously took a step back, not trusting yourself to be so close to him. He groaned, both hands coming to the top of his head as he spun in an agitated circle. “I wasn’t just trying to get in your pants.”

“Could have fooled me by the way you ran out of here like the damn house was on fire and then couldn’t be bothered to call me after you said you would. Not to mention what a dick you were at the bar. Weren’t you the one who said you were a good actor? Well, you should win an Oscar for that because I thought you were being genuine. I thought you liked me. What an idiot I was!”

“Goddamn it! I know I did this all wrong. That wasn’t…I didn’t…son of a bitch! I just…this is such a bad idea. Don’t you see what a bad idea this is? I shouldn’t have ever done that. I’ve tried so hard to keep a safe distance between us, to resist what I wanted. It was a huge mistake and then you asked me to stay over and I knew it was a mistake and I just couldn’t face you after…”

“Oh, okay. That’s so much better,” you growled, tossing your arms up in the air. “You didn’t just use me. Thank goodness. That could have been embarrassing. You just slept with me and then realized I was a huge mistake that you wished you wouldn’t have made. Thanks for clearing that up. You can go now.”

You stomped away from him into the kitchen, hoping he would get the idea and leave. You could not do this anymore. You wished you’d never met him. The room swayed in front of you and you grabbed onto the edge of the counter to steady yourself, a roar of frustration ripping its way from your chest when he didn’t leave but instead followed you. 

Why couldn’t he just go away? Did he really think this was any better than ghosting you? Telling you that you were an error, a bad decision, a regret? Why couldn’t he have just left it alone? You’d had no intention of seeking out clarification. You would have been satisfied just calling it what it was, a guy using you for sex. Maybe you could have even twisted it into something positive. You’d never had a one night stand. Shouldn’t everyone have one at least once?

“That’s not what I’m saying! Jesus Christ!” His large hands slammed down on the counter across from you and you jumped. “Don’t you get it? I’m the monster of this town! I’m defective merchandise just like your ex. You don’t deserve that, especially not after what that asshole already did to you. You would be better off with anybody but me! You’re not the mistake, princess! I am!”

Your muddled brain tried to wade through the murky confusion, “What?”

“Why do you think I’ve been such a dick since the moment we met? Sure, I can have my moments but I was really pulling out all the assholery I could for you. I wanted you to hate me because it was easier! It was easier than trying to fight what I really wanted. I’ve been fighting to keep a distance between us since the night we met and I’ve failed. I’ve been holding on for dear life so I don’t drown in you! But no matter what I did, I kept being drawn to you. I knew it was stupid. I knew it was wrong. I knew every single time I showed up that I was playing with fire. I knew you deserved better than me but I kept coming back to you. I told myself I could just be your friend. I told myself it was what you wanted so it was okay. I told myself I would never let it go farther than that. I’d play it safe. I made every excuse in the book, knowing damn well that I was just trying to justify what I wanted. But Saturday, I was just so damn tired of fighting it. And then you…you wanted me too and it was so damn easy to just let it happen, to stop resisting. I gave in and then you wanted me to stay over and I knew I had made a huge mistake.”

Your eyes slipped closed, your grip on the counter tightening as your brain warred with itself once again. Did you allow yourself to believe him again? Did you forgive him? Did you let him back in only to risk him changing his mind once again? Or did you tell him, fine, this was a huge mistake and that was all it was going to be and you should just stay away from each other? That would definitely be the smarter choice of the two but you’d already proven that when it came to him, you didn’t make the smart choice.

And those eyes. Fuck those goddamn big doe eyes. They were so sincere, full of pain, a window into deep anguish that was tugging at your heart. He was hunched forward, arms wrapped around himself as if he were trying to contain all of his emotions inside, shielding himself from the truth he was exposing. This man made you want to jump out of the plane without a parachute, to risk shattering on impact. Anything if it meant that you could make that suffering go away.

“And why do you get to make that decision for me?” you asked, struggling as those eyes pierced your soul; twin brown pools of regret pleading for you to try to understand. “Why do you get to decide if something’s a mistake for me?”

“Oh come on! I know you’ve heard all the shit this town says about me,” he muttered, tongue running under his upper lip, looking down at the countertop. 

“Is any of it true?”

Eddie shrugged, his finger running back and forth over the formica countertop “I didn’t hurt anybody, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not a murderer.”

“Then why in the hell should I care what anybody else has to say?”

“Because I’m broken, princess. Far too broken to ever be fixed.”

“Eddie, everybody’s a little broken. Sometimes those pieces aren’t meant to be fixed. They’re meant to be mended by opening ourselves up to others and letting them heal us. We can glue the parts back together but the cracks will always be there. They remain as scars to remind us of how strong we are, to remind us not to make the same mistakes twice. I’m not exactly perfectly put together myself.”

“That’s not what I mean. You have no idea. You’re not nearly as fucked up as I am. You might need a little glue but I am destined for the trash heap. My pieces can’t ever be put back the way that they were. They’ve been smashed into dust.”

“Okay, so what?” you insisted, your elbows coming down onto the counter as you leaned over it. “Maybe you can’t be put back the way you were before but maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe you have an opportunity to put the pieces back differently, in a way that’s even better, stronger. That is, if your stubborn ass would ever be willing to let someone in to help you. Reassembling yourself is not a one man job, Eddie. It requires a village and you have one. You just have to let them in.”

The pad of his thumb ran over the nail of his opposite one, that tongue of his slipping out, playing at the corner of his mouth. You were making him nervous. You had no idea how you’d learned to read him so well so quickly but you had. Eddie might think he was some mysterious conundrum but he wore his emotions on his sleeve and he had particular tells when something was off. 

“Would…” He breathed in slowly, closing his eyes for a moment, and then they opened, finding yours. Your grip on the counter tightened, your legs like a jellyfish, the intensity in his stare almost sending you to the ground. “Would you consider yourself a part of that village?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, shrugging. “I told you before that I wanted to be if you’d let me but you don’t seem to want to. I get that you don’t know me that well. You have no reason to trust me and now, I don’t know if I can trust you. I mean, you’re only the second guy I slept with and you disappeared on me. Kind of makes it a little challenging to be open and trusting.”

“The…wait…” Eddie’s head shook, mouth open in a silent question while he got his bearings. “You seriously had only ever been with your ex? I was…shit.” His palm ran down his face and over his chin. 

You turned quickly, grabbing dry dishes from the rack next to the sink. You began putting them away, anything to keep your hands busy, to keep from looking at him. Great. You really needed to stop putting your foot in your mouth. Now he really thought you were stupid and pathetic. You’d only ever been with two guys your entire life and both had screwed you over. Eddie was probably enjoying this, relishing the fact that you were the shallow airhead he’d pinned you as the night you met.

“Princess…”

The hairs on the back of your neck rose, a shiver running down your spine. Eddie was so close behind you that you could feel his words, his breath softly moving your hair. Your eyes slipped close, your body responding to him the way it always did. Your damn body was a betraying bitch. Why did he have such an effect on you and why was he so damn close? 

“I’m really sorry,” he whispered softly. “I had no idea that I was your first after your split. I had no idea that I was only your second. I guess I should have. You said you’d been with him since high school. Shit. I feel like all I do is apologize to you. I know I’ve been a dick. I know you have no reason to but do you think you can forgive me?”

Could you? Yes. Would you? Yes. Should you? Probably not but you’d never been able to do what you should do when it came to him. What was the point in starting now? You knew you were probably setting yourself up to have your heart broken again. You were probably setting yourself up to be humiliated again but you couldn’t stay away from him. You could try to kid yourself. You could tell yourself whatever you wanted but you knew it wasn’t true. 

Your silence must have felt like an answer to him because his warmth vanished from behind you. You could hear his boots treading heavily across the hardwood floor as he made his way to the door. You should let him go. You should let him walk out the door and put an end to this thing now before it got out of control and you were too deeply in. But you were already too deep. You were hundreds of feet below the surface, kicking your legs, but unable to breach, every fiber of you completely consumed with him. 

“Eddie…” You spun around as you finally broke the silence. 

His head turned, eyes filled with so much hope that you were overcome with a desire to give him anything he wanted just to keep it there. You walked toward him, your hand reaching for his cheek, your heart constricting when his eyes closed, his face turning into it as if relishing the simple human contact. This man was so touch starved, desperate for affection from someone. Desperate for someone to think he was worth something, for someone to care for him, someone more than just a friend, someone he could be the most important to. He hadn’t said it. He never would probably but his body language was screaming it, just hoping for someone to finally hear.

Were you strong enough to take a chance on him? Were you strong enough to push past all his defenses? You didn’t know. Maybe not, but you were damn sure willing to find out because nothing scared you more than the thought of him walking out, the thought that you might never feel for anyone else the way you felt for him. The thought that this all consuming need and desire would never take you over again was unbearable.

His hand came up to cover yours but this time he didn’t remove it. He held it there as he opened his eyes, gazing down at you with such longing that you struggled to maintain eye contact. His other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling your body toward his until your pelvis was flush against him, feeling how much he wanted you at that moment. Your breath hitched as his head dipped, his lips hovering just above yours. 

“Are you sure?” he asked softly. 

“Are you sure?” you shot back at him, putting the ball in his court. You hadn’t been the one to walk away. You hadn’t been the one who shut this down. You’d been sure from the moment your lips met. You needed to know if he was sure.

“I am so fucking sure,” Eddie rasped, his thumb moving to your lips, brushing along the bottom one. 

“Prove it,” you challenged.

Chapter 15

Taglist

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[myosotisa]

Old Heart - Part 2 - Been

‖ chapter summary: Welcome to Memphis, Tennessee. Home of the only Quarantine Zone directly placed on the Mississippi River. It's home to a full cast of characters and you get a brief introduction to the settlement and other people's lives within. Including Eddie's.

‖ tags: enemies to lovers, age gap (41 and 25), forced proximity, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, HEA, "zombie" apocalypse, reader uses she/her pronouns, no y/n, no physical description given, minors dni

‖ chapter warnings: consumption of alcohol (yes that's it, count your blessings)

‖ songs referenced: And Dream of Sheep by Kate Bush, I Wanna Learn a Love Song (Live 1975) by Harry Chapin

‖ word count: 11.2k

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Tuesday, August 16th, 2016 – Memphis, Tennessee

After 10 minutes of walking through damp and musky tunnels, Eddie asks you to hold his flashlight for a moment as he slides something heavy out of your path. One flashlight in each hand, wondering if maybe you should try to help, all you see is the flex of his shoulders beneath leather as he shifts the object – far enough for a sliver of light to come through and continuing until there's enough room for a single person to squeeze in.

“Okay,” he says in an exhale, both hands shifting to his hips as he dips his head. “You first.” Clicking both flashlights off, you walk up to the opening and peek through, seeing a stone wall opposite, before hesitantly pushing into the new area.

Two steps in and you hear the sound echo for what feels like a full minute too long. Gray light filters in through stained glass and frosted windows across tall, stone walls with impossibly high ceilings. White dust dances, lifts, falls in the stale air around you as you take a few more steps toward the empty hall. Unlit crystal chandeliers hang in an even pattern across the vaulted ceilings, some whole and intricate, some with broken glass and half their shape, others that are just a chain left to shift whenever a breeze passes through one of the shattered windows. Lines of pillars, studiously carved into subtle curves, reach up toward brushed metal decor before melting into the ceiling above. The soles of your boots click across tiled floors as you approach the main structure in the hall.

A statue of what used to be Jesus Christ on the cross sits high above you, a backdrop of beautiful stained glass painted behind. The entirety of the piece is more than 10 feet tall and 20 feet wide – the remains of Jesus hung above an extensive carving of various figures from Christian theology. John the Baptist, Mary Magdalene, the four apostles, the three kings. They all are looking up at him in awe and devotion as they sit easily beneath his crossed and nailed feet.

The head of the statue is missing. There’s jagged stone just above his collarbone where it looks as though it was broken off. Smashed. Desecrated. Cracks descend from the opening and down, weaving their way into the other figures. A split across a king’s forehead into his eye, an diagonal break on the throat of an apostle, a cleave straight through John the Baptist’s torso. With your first glance, it seems the only figure left untouched by the branching tear is Mary herself, kneeling with her head in a bow beneath Jesus’ feet.

A cacophony of scraping and dragging hits you from all sides as the heavy frame Eddie moved is slid back into place, the sound echoing harshly through the empty cathedral and back into your ears so painfully you nearly move to cover them. When you look over to the source, he has just pushed it the final few inches before falling back a few steps. His shoulders rise and fall with a heaving breath and then he turns to you, hands back in his pockets, looking like he wasn’t affected at all.

“Another church,” the repetition of your voice bouncing back to you moments after it leaves your throat is enough to wince.

He lets out a snort of derision on his approach, settling a few feet away from you to also look over the carvings above. “Very astute observation.”

You barrel through his mocking, allowing it to fuel you but not give it your attention. “Dustin said you always want to meet at churches. Louisville, now this. Why?”

Despite that softness of your final question, it still rings out uncomfortably in the silence. You look over at Eddie as he continues to stare up into the space where the head of Jesus used to sit. There’s a reverence to his gaze, a vulnerability to the way his wide eyes flick across it, as if searching for something.

Searching for what?

The moment is gone as quick as it occurred. His head tilts toward you, his expression once again bored, eyebrows set low. “Trick of the trade. Not a lot of people are gonna question a man walking out of a church.” The thought almost seems to make him smile, a bit of mischief in the way he explains it. He spares one last glance up, in a way that’s almost longing, before he’s turning away from the feature and towards the door. “Come on, I’m hungry and ready for a shower.”

You trail Eddie down the shredded rug of the aisle, past what remains of the broken pews and tattered fabrics, and out the heavy twin doors into the afternoon sun.

You’re welcomed into Memphis by the park across the street. It’s dry and dying, a stark contrast to the rest of the greenery you’ve seen since the day began. Like the rain or the ground water from the Mississippi reaches everywhere but this single block of park in the middle of the QZ. It makes you a bit sad to see it withering, but there’s barely anyone around that seems to pay attention to it.

There are people nearby, the first you’ve seen in ages. None of them pay you or Eddie any mind as they go on their way. He veers off to the right, toward what seems to be a much more populated area, looking over his shoulder only once to make sure you’re still behind him. However, as you get closer and closer to where throngs of people come and go, he walks slower, waiting for you to catch up.

“Stay close to me,” it comes out as something close to an order, “things move pretty fast around the market and I don’t want you to get lost in the crowd.”

A completely reasonable request for a good reason. This you can accept. “Okay, can do.”

What shocks you the most is when a hand touches your back for just a moment, though you can feel it continue to hover there as Eddie pushes forward. It’s a good thing too, because you have never been around this many people in your entire life. The amount of people in this square alone could rival the numbers of the entire base at Quantico – and the crowd here is 50 times more diverse. There are children, something you haven’t seen in years, playing together in the streets, kicking a ball through the legs of the adults that continue on their way as if it’s a common occurrence. Probably because it is for them. You’re the only one around who seems to be overwhelmed with the bustle of the Memphis QZ.

The crowd feels as though it parts as you and Eddie walk through, or maybe he’s just leading you along the current as easily as everyone else follows it. It really does behave like a current as faces and bodies pass by on either side, some talking to the people they walk with, others keeping their head down as they move. It all starts to blur together while you let the arm behind lead you deeper into the fold. Part of your brain tells you to start asking questions about where you’re going or what the plan is but you’re struggling to process anything. The sounds, the smells, the sights – it all muddles together in your head and you can’t find something to ground you in the swarm.

“Eddie!”

A high pitched cry has both you and him turning, just in time for the source to barrel into Eddie’s legs.

“Woah,” he laughs as he rocks back to standing straight, a hand landing on the coils on top of the girl’s head as her arms lock solidly around his hips. “Heya squirt, almost bowled me over.”

Her arms release so she can jump up and down a few times in place, her excitement evident. “I missed you!”

You look on as Eddie drops to a knee in front of her, making them the same height. “Missed you too, Libby.” The smile that tilts his lips is stuffed to the brim with fondness and only seems to grow as her delighted giggle gets muffled by the crowd. It’s obvious the girl, Libby, looks up to Eddie and enjoys his company, and Eddie cares for her. It reminds you a bit of his relationship with Dustin: unrestricted affection given and taken in equal measure. “I gotcha something while I was out.”

Her eyes almost triple in size, wet and pleading as she squeals. “Really? You really did?”

He laughs, really laughs, his head hanging down as his shoulders shake. “Yeah, squirt. Picked it out just for you.” The backpack slips off his shoulders as he sets it on the ground in front of him and starts digging through it. Her impatience is palpable but the moment of waiting makes her aware of you for the first time. 

She dips forward, almost like she’s trying to whisper to him but she’s way too loud to actually do so. “Who’s that?”

The question makes Eddie stiffen. You’re not sure if it’s because he forgot you were there or the survival instinct of realizing someone is behind him. Either way, you step further into his line of vision, and closer to Libby, as you offer your name along with your hand. “I’m traveling with Eddie for a couple of days.”

The girl makes no move to shake your hand as she eyes it warily. “Come on, Lib. Don’t be rude.” At Eddie’s goading, she hesitantly takes your hand in her own, the taupe skin of her palm dry and soft, and lets it move up and down once before she’s letting go. She looks a bit shy now that she’s noticed you, causing her excitement for whatever Eddie continues to dig for in his bag to lessen. The fact that she is so shy around strangers but so comfortable with Eddie speaks volumes. Her eyes nervously glance between you and Eddie until an “Ah-ha!” brings the entirety of her focus toward the man before her. He produces a small antler from the bottom of his backpack – 4 tongs of khaki colored bone converging to a shaft with a rough, brown texture almost like bark.

“Wow,” she gasps, eyes wide in child-like delight as she reaches her hands out towards it. “Is it real?”

“Yeah, squirt,” Eddie chuckles, tucking some loose hair behind his ear, “super real.”

“But, but…” those same wide eyes start to water as she cups the antler in her palms. “What happened to the deer that had it?”

“Oh! It, uh…” Eddie fumbles, his own eyes as wide as hers now as he tries to come up with something to ease her rising sadness.

You step closer and drop down beside Eddie, your knee knocking his own with the movement. “Actually, Libby, deer shed the antlers on their own.” Her eyebrows pinch together in confusion as she turns the bone over in her hands. “In the winter time, male deer’s antlers fall off so that when spring comes, they can grow bigger and better ones. See here,” you dip forward a bit more and point toward the base of it. “That’s called the burr, where it connects to the deer’s head. Once a year, the stuff that connects the burr falls apart, kinda like when a plant on a leaf starts to turn brown. Then, you cut off the brown leaf, and a bigger and healthier leaf can grow back.”

Her sadness converted back to awe during your explanation, although still a bit hesitant. “So it doesn’t hurt them?”

“Nope,” you confirm with a smile, “doesn’t hurt them at all.”

“That’s so cool!” She hops again, gripping the antler in her fists. “I wanna go show Mama.”

“Is she at the shop?” Eddie asks as he rises to his feet with a soft groan of complaint. She nods and takes off running towards the crowded square full of tents in the distance. “Fuckin’ kid,” he sighs, although it’s with nothing but affection in his tone. His head tilts toward you, a self deprecating smile tilting his mouth. “Thanks, uh, for the save.”

You wave him off, taking a moment to dust off the knees of your jeans. “No problem. Looked like you needed it.”

“A little bit, yeah.” He shakes his head, a few more shaggy waves falling loose to frame his face. “Y’know I definitely killed that deer and ate it, right?”

“Oh absolutely,” you agree in a tease, knocking your elbow against his, “but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

The knock seems to jar him back into reality, reminding him of who you are and what you’re doing here. It’s almost like watching him physically retreat back into himself as his smile fades. “I guess. Come on, let’s get some food.”

Eddie’s arm is behind you again as you trail after the path Libby had blazed towards the busy market. The crowd is even thicker here, with more people just standing and talking rather than moving, which presses you closer into Eddie’s side as you try not to get separated. He’s alarmingly warm, even through 2 layers – each time your sides brush against each other the shock of it makes you hyper aware of each moment the two of you touch. It gives you something to focus on, to ground yourself, as he leads you off the road and through one of the crowded paths between makeshift market stalls. 

It seems like sometimes Eddie forgets who you are, and in those moments, he’s not as cold to you. It’s confusing, to say the least. The hot and cold treatment. Like he has some preconceived notion of you that affects how he treats you and it isn’t necessarily aligned with how you act toward him. You’ve heard a lot of stories about Eddie Munson over the years. It makes you wonder how many stories he’s heard about you. It’s hard to imagine he’s heard any but there has to be something to make him act this way.

The two of you approach a shop that’s cut into the building beside the market, like a walk up restaurant. There are several people milling about with their heads dipped over steaming bowls, eating quickly before they have to get on their way again. “Hey Mags?” Eddie calls out as he approaches the open door to the inside. His arm falls from behind you as you stop to wait for an answer, but you don’t have time to think about it before the smell hits you. Something rich, meaty, earthy, and just a little bit spicy wafts through the air and has your empty stomach twisting over itself in desire.

“Is that Eddie Munson, I hear?” A woman emerges from the darkened kitchen, wiping her hands on the towel tucked into her apron. Her russet brown complexion is coated in a thin layer of sweat as she brings the towel up to run across her forehead before she greets Eddie with a warm smile. “Libby just ran by shoutin’ something about you being back, bringin’ her something. You know you don’t need to get her gifts like that, Ed.”

“I know, Mags,” he sighs, shifting to the side to lean his shoulder on the wall beside the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “Just can’t help it sometimes.”

“Well you should try!” She laughs, a deep and melodic chuckle that settles over you like a warm blanket. Her deep brown eyes meet yours as she adjusts the sapphire-toned turban covering the majority of her scalp. “And who do we have here?”

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie stands upright again, waving you a few steps closer. He introduces you by name, citing that you’re traveling with him for a couple days in a repeat of the same thing you’d told Libby.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, darlin’.” She offers her hand, warm and firm on your own with a much nicer shake than Libby had allowed. “I’m Maggie.”

“Nice to meet you, Maggie. Are you the one cooking? It smells amazing.”

She stands a bit taller, looking proud at the compliment. “Got a nice big pot of gumbo going today. Y’all hungry?”

“Absolutely starved,” Eddie confirms, already looking like he’s salivating just at the idea of eating whatever she’s cooked. She waves you both toward the window, going back inside to serve you through it. She pours you each a steaming bowl of gumbo, the chunks of meat indiscernible but the dark roux soaking into the white rice along the bottom of the bowl is more than enough to have you digging in to eat before you even move an inch away. Eddie tries to give her a few pieces of paper between wolfish bites of soaked meat and rice, calls them ration cards, and Maggie adamantly refuses them over and over.

“So,” Maggie looks to you after waving Eddie off for the 4th time, “been travelin’ long?”

Ignoring the scars that flare along your esophagus at the thought, you shrug. “Just over a week, so not too long. Really excited to take advantage of Eddie’s promise for a shower though.” He seems to pause for a moment when you say his name, hesitating, before he goes back to inhaling his bowl. “Just wish I had a change of clothes, really. Had to leave my old place fast.”

She looks you up and down for a moment, as well as she can through the serving window, then she calls behind her. “Hey, Papa?”

A figure appears from the shadows beyond the reach of the afternoon sun. His tan skin is flushed red from the heat of the kitchen, sweat across his brow that rolls down his temples and into the patchy, black beard across his jaw. He twists to her side, resting one hand on the counter before them and the other reaching across to her outer hip. “¿Sí, Mama?”

She leans into his embrace without taking her eyes off of stirring the boiling pot in front of her. “Why don’t you run and grab Ed’s friend some clothes to change into? Then she’ll have something to wear while he washes them.”

The kind gesture has you reeling back. “Oh no, I couldn’t ask that of you. The hot meal is more than enough.”

Her dark eyes reach you again, this time with a glint of mischievousness. “I mean, I suppose if you would prefer to have nothing to wear while you wait for your clothes to dry…”

The obvious implication has blood rushing to the surface of your skin. “No, it’s not – I mean, I –”

“She’ll take the clothes,” Eddie interrupts as he places his now empty bowl back on the counter. "Thanks, Mags. Always too kind to folks around here.” She scoffs, waving him off with a self satisfied smile. The man asks you for some approximate sizes to fish for and you give him your best guesses, saying you'd prefer too big over too small. He gives you a little salute and disappears back into the shadows behind Maggie. You're pulling the last few bites of your bowl back towards you when Eddie speaks again. "You seen Red around?"

She shakes her head, expression falling a touch. "Not in a few days."

He swears under his breath, looking out into the crowd. Almost like he would just happen to catch the person he was asking about if he looked hard enough. "She mention where she was going or who with?"

"Oh yeah," Maggie's tone drops to a smooth monotone. "She told me all about it. And then we braided each other's hair and talked about boys."

Eddie lets out a soft laugh, rubbing along the side of his scruff a bit sheepishly. "Touché."

Maggie steps out from behind the stove to lean down on the counter beside it. “You know she’s fine. Who knows, maybe she’s up there sleeping right now and you’re down here worryin’ for nothing.”

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right.”

“Always am,” she replies happily, attention shifting to you. “All done?”

“Yes,” you pass your bowl over toward her with a grateful smile. “It was delicious, thank you so much again.”

“Happy to, sugar.” She takes the bowl with one hand and offers a reassuring squeeze with the other. An overwhelming kind gesture that has you choking up against your will. “Ed, why don’t you take her up to get cleaned? I’ll have Gus bring the clothes over when he gets back.”

His eyebrows draw together on his forehead, “You sure, Mags? We don’t mind waiting.” We? He’s thinking of us as a we?

Don’t overthink it.

She waves him off again, using the tips of her fingers to cover that same mischievous smile. “Your smell is scarin’ off the customers anyway. Go on now.”

Suddenly self conscious, you try to subtly take a smell of yourself while Eddie thanks her again and says his goodbye. He turns to leave so you offer a quick wave before stepping into pace with him again. The crowd has thinned out a bit now as the sun begins to sink further toward the horizon. The lack of people seems to make him not feel the need to lead you like he did before, with his hand ghosting over your back. You try hard not to ignore your disappointment and the lingering warmth of his palm along your spine.

“Do we actually smell that bad?” You find yourself asking as you walk with him back the way you came, seeing a bit more of the tan, dusty streets than you could before.

He gives you a side eye, before replying. “I’ve been within 10 feet of you for over 3 days. If you smell, I smell, and neither of us can smell it on each other.”

“Touché,” you echo, a small smile coming to your face as you repeat what he said to Maggie just a few minutes ago. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him shake his head. And maybe – just maybe – trying to hide a little smile of his own.

Eddie leads you back to the initial intersection, the road that bisects with the cathedral, but brings you the opposite direction. Peeking between buildings, you can see the Mississippi River running wild only a mile or so ahead. To your right there’s a stately building, with its tall pillars and stone carvings, the words ‘MEMPHIS POLICE STATION’ etched into the stone. Beside it there’s a smaller building, more overgrown, less taken care of. Vines climb up the sidewalls and press into broken windows. Graffiti covers the bright red doors and the smashed out sign of the ‘Firefighters Museum of Memphis’. You press forward, past what looks like an apartment building on either side, through the intersection beyond, and towards the large building on the corner. The awning in front of the door reads ‘The Claridge House’, with the word condominiums written in smaller text underneath.

“Condominiums?” You wonder aloud as you follow him past the marble entry and into the ‘fancy’ lobby. Fancy by 1980’s standards with it's brushed metal detailing, blackish-green marble, and large designs in the tile floor. It’s empty apart from a single man in an armchair, legs kicked up and a hat over his face as he rests.

Your companion doesn’t reply, just heads over to the door to the stairwell and holds it open for you to pass through. After spending the last few days out in the open, you still find yourself on high alert – checking corners and looking ahead as you ascend. The rational part of your brain insists that this is a QZ, people live here, the likelihood of there being a random infected in here is near 0.

The irrational part of your brain supplies that the odds are not completely 0.

If Eddie notices your apprehension, he doesn’t say so. Just directs you to exit the stairwell at the 4th floor and head down the hallway to your left. Every other lightbulb is out as you proceed down the carpeted hall, casting an eerie shadowed effect across the peeling wallpaper on the walls. There is very little noise coming from the rooms you pass, leading you to believe they are either unoccupied or the occupants are elsewhere. Most of what you do hear is very muffled conversation here and there, along with the odd bleed of music through the walls.

As you turn the corner, Eddie brushes past you in the narrow hallway, taking the lead as he approaches the door labelled ‘413’. He digs a key out of his pack, unlocks the door, and pushes inside.

The door opens into a square shaped room with two windows on the far wall. They’re west facing, the first orange tints of the soon to be setting sun filtering in through the makeshift curtains. There are a few random posters stuck to beige walls, mostly bands and movies from when you were kid. There’s a rug across the wooden floor that has definitely seen better days, a sunken brown couch and 2 mismatched armchairs facing across from a homemade shelf of concrete blocks and planks of wood. There’s a layer of dust on the record player on the top shelf and the assortment of stacked vinyls below, some in their paper envelopes and others laying on scraps of fabric or pieces of paper. A few steps inside has the dust rising, dancing in harsh sun rays that press in from outside.

“Oy, Red?” Eddie calls, shutting the door behind you both and pushing past you around a corner. “You here?” Two doors open and close as you slowly approach the shelves, running your fingertip through the dust that sits on the cover of a Metallica vinyl. It’s less dusty than the other records below it, but it still hasn’t been touched in a week or more.

“Damn it,” is Eddie’s mumbled curse as he reappears from the side hallway. Turning his direction, you see him lean a shoulder against the wall separating a small kitchen from the rest of the condo. He wipes a hand across his forehead, causing his greasy and sweat-laden bangs to stick out in odd directions.

“She not here?” You prod, still not even really sure who she is.

He looks up, eyebrows raised in surprise, and crosses his arms over his chest again. “No,” he grumbles, casting a glare back towards the hallway. “No note or anything.”

You nod, shifting awkwardly from where you stand in the middle of his living room. Your feet are killing you and you’d like nothing more than to sit down or maybe take that shower you were promised, but it’s hard to move past the feeling of intruding in a place you don’t belong. “I’m sure she’s fine, Maggie seemed sure of it.”

“I know, I know, I know she is more than fucking capable of taking care of herself, it’s just…” Eddie hesitates, glancing from you to the floor. He sighs, his shoulders falling as his eyes drift closed. “Forget it. You can put your bag in the bedroom on the left, I’ll find a towel or something.”

He disappears into one of the open doors and quickly shuts it behind him, leaving you alone in the dust. That feeling is back; like he wanted to talk to you but then remembered who you were and suddenly decided he couldn’t. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth, the idea that he thinks you’re untrustworthy. Or maybe it’s for an entirely different reason. In the end, it doesn’t really matter. Either way you have no idea what you could’ve done for such a reaction.

Inching your way around the corner, you get a better view of the hallway. To your right is the door Eddie disappeared into. Before you are two doors. The one to the right is closed, so you walk toward the door on the left. The room is mostly empty – there’s a full size mattress slightly raised off the floor, a blue quilt spread over it, and a bookshelf in the corner being half used for books and half as a dresser. The only other things in the room are an acoustic guitar propped up in the corner and a mug full of pens and lighters sitting on the wood shelf. Walking closer, you see the mug is a cream color and the design is slightly worn off – there’s a cartoon drawing of an apple and mismatched text saying ‘I’d rather be at lunch!’. You manage to set down your backpack at the foot of the bed before Eddie reemerges.

“You can shower first,” he says from a few steps away from the open doorway. “I left a towel on the sink for you. There’s soap and some kind of homemade shampoo Mags gave me. I’ll go find Gus to get those clothes and throw them in when I have them.”

You’re stunned by the show of kindness. “Oh… Thank you, Eddie.” He shrugs and turns back toward the living room. His backpack is missing but you aren’t quite sure where he put it. “Is there anything about the shower I should know?” You call after him. He freezes, turning back toward you with his face pinched in confusion. “Like there’s only so much hot water or something? I don’t want to force you into a cold shower.”

It’s his turn to look stunned, his gaze hard as if he’s testing you. You struggle to remain firm under his scrutiny, just like you had the first time. After a moment, he tucks his hands into his back pockets as he slightly shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Water is lukewarm at best anyway.”

He pushes out the door before you can say anything else, the lock sliding into place a second later.

You set yourself to the task of getting to some semblance of clean. The shower pressure and temperature definitely left something to be desired, but you were hardly in a place to complain. You scrub your skin down until it screams for mercy and then apply the same treatment to your scalp. Halfway through your battle, the door clicks open, there’s a noise of something hitting the floor, and then the door clicks shut again. Trying to carefully piece through your hair, you have a moment to think about how long it’s been since you last took a shower. Not since the day before…

Don’t think about it.

Forcing yourself out of the shower before more cracks appear in your foundation, you towel off yourself as best you can and then sift through the pile of clothes now on the bathroom floor. There’s a soft, dark gray t-shirt, a denim button up, a pair of sturdy black jeans, a new pair of mismatched socks. There’s also a few pairs of underwear to your embarrassment. You’re grateful to have the extras of course, but the idea of both Gus and Eddie handling them has you a bit mortified. The underwear and t-shirt go on, foregoing the new sports bra for tomorrow, and you’re about to put the jeans on when you spy a pair of boxers at the bottom of the pile. They’re large on you and cover enough for you to be comfortable sleeping in them. Better than jeans anyway. You fold your new clothes and collect your dirty ones in a bundle beneath your arm and push back out into the living room.

You almost run straight into Eddie from where he’s walking out of the room he’d told you to put your things in. “Oh, sorry,” you apologize on instinct, ducking out of his way and back toward the kitchen.

“It’s fine,” his tone is flat, emotionless. He looks like he’s aged another 5 years since you last saw him 30 minutes ago. “You can throw your dirty clothes on the floor, we’ll figure it out tomorrow. Take whatever you want from the kitchen. Can put on a record or grab one of my books or something, I don’t care.”

Trying not to take the dismissal personally, you just nod. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” He shrugs off your thanks and closes himself into the bathroom again. The shower turns on a few minutes later.

Your clothes get dumped on the floor next to the couch and you set the clean things on the end of the bed near your bag. The pattern of the wood digs into your feet uncomfortably so you end up putting the new socks on before you go snooping. There’s a small assortment of canned goods in the cabinets along with 2 sets of mismatched dishware. The only thing in the fridge is a half empty 6 pack of beer and a jug of drinking water. You pour yourself a glass and dig out a can of fruit before settling down on one side of the couch with your snack. The sun has dipped below the buildings beyond now, bathing the faded rug in orange.

The silence becomes too much in less than a minute. You cross the room and flip on the record player, setting the disc already there to play from the beginning.

Little light shining Little light will guide them to me

A high pitched feminine voice drawls out the words over a flowing piano. The melody is almost haunting as she picks through the verse, tone waving between sharp highs and rolling lows. It’s slow paced and bittersweet, but calming. The empty sleeve beside the spinning table says ‘Hounds of Love’ across the top, with a woman laying out across a pink toned bedspread. Not what you normally would have picked, but it fills the silence. 

Let me be weak, let me sleep and dream of sheep

You’re halfway through your can of mixed fruit soaked in a sugary liquid when the bathroom door clicks open. Eddie emerges in the middle of tugging a black shirt over his head. In the moments between, you catch a glimpse of his torso: lithe muscle and narrow waist. There’s a large scar across his left side, but you aren’t able to guess what from before it disappears from view. He runs his hands around the collar of the shirt, releasing his limp, damp waves from the fabric. When it’s wet, it’s near impossible to see the lines of gray you know are scattered through it. He’s wearing a loose pair of sweatpants that skim the floor as he walks over to the record player.

“Kate Bush, huh?” You’re too distracted by his arms to notice. He wore his leather jacket almost the entire time you were traveling with him, and this is the first time you’ve actually seen them. They’re not exceptionally muscular, definitely strong for sure, but what catches your attention is the scars along his skin. There are cuts and slashes that range from barely visible to a bright white against his skin. An indent in the epidermis across his bicep, the skin above it puckered and tinted pink. More evidence of wounds old and new are discovered each moment you keep looking. Realizing he’s asked you a question, but already not remembering what it was, you make a confused hum to see if he’ll repeat it.

“Kate Bush,” he repeats, waving his hand toward the spinning vinyl. “You pick it?”

You shake your head, setting your snack off to the side. “Was already there, I just restarted it.”

“Huh.” His eyes track back to it as it continues to play, moving forward to a song about being stuck under ice. Those brown eyes are settled in a glare, like the vinyl is hiding something from him and he can intimidate it into talking. When it doesn’t budge, he shakes his head, his hair leaving droplets behind as he walks into the kitchen. He returns with a can of his own, falling onto the other side of the couch with a groan. “So you can take the bed and I’ll sleep out here.”

You spin toward him, nearly dropping your glass of water in shock. “What? No, I’m not taking your bed.”

He leans his head back, wet waves draping down across his shoulders. He looks tired. Weary, exhausted. And not the kind you can fix with sleep. Eyes closed as he faces the ceiling, he sighs. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.” You repeat, more intently. “I’ll be fine on the couch, if you sleep on this thing you’ll probably throw your back out or something.”

A snort leaves his nose, the corner of his mouth turning up in amusement. “Good one.” You try not to let the acceptance go to your head as he rolls his head to look at you. “You’re gonna sleep in the bed. If my old man knew I made a woman sleep on the couch while I had a bed, he’d roll over in his grave. So please… Just take the bed.”

The bags under his eyes are more pronounced as the light fades from the room. They drag at the bottom lid lined with black lashes, sunken into the skin above his cheekbones. Between the dead stare he pins you with and the heavy weight that presses him down into the flattened cushions of the couch, you find yourself softly agreeing. 

When the record finishes playing, you refill your glass of water and go into Eddie’s room, pulling the chain to turn on the bare bulb above the bed. You push the door mostly closed, leaving it open just an inch or two. You can’t see anything beyond it, but knowing that if something happened, if there was some noise or movement or attack, you’d be a little bit more likely to hear it. It helps.

Eddie’s sheets smell like pine, whiskey, and something human. You take the second pillow along the top between your arms, crush it to your chest, press your face into it. Breathe in deep. And wait to fall asleep.

Wednesday, August 17th, 2016 – Memphis, Tennessee

Waking up the next morning is a struggle. Mostly because you couldn’t sleep for more than 2 hours at a time. It had been awhile since you were given the opportunity to sleep through the entire night and your body did not receive the memo.

The next time your eyes crack open and there is a bit of soft light coming from between the blinds, you decide to admit defeat. The decision is further enforced by hearing a hushed argument from beyond the crack in the door. In your half asleep state, you don’t even think before you’re rolling out of bed and pushing the door open.

Conversation stops the moment the door squeaks open. Standing in the doorway, a pair of deep brown and a pair of bright blue eyes pin you in place.

The bright blues belong to a woman who looks like a cross between a soldier and a viking. She’s armed to the teeth, at least 4 knives visible on her person as well as a pistol in her holster and an assault rifle slung over her shoulder. Her dark green tank top is slightly stained with something that could either be mud or old blood, there is dirt brushed over the entirety of her cargo pants, and her military-grade boots have left definite marks behind her to the door. The pale skin of her defined arms have a myriad of scars, all looking no more than 2 years old. The lower half of her scalp is shaven low and the upper half is pulled together in a long, ginger braid that reaches between her shoulder blades. Her eyes are striking and intense, shocking you still much more than Eddie’s surprised expression.

Breaking the stand off, you take a few steps closer to the edge of the living room. “You must be Red,” you offer your name to her along with your hand.

“Max. Not Red,” is her only response, ignoring the hand you’d held out to her in favor of turning back to Eddie. “Just because you leave a little love letter whenever you’re going out doesn’t mean I have to.”

Eddie nervously glances between where you’re slowly lowering your hand and the badass staring him down. “You don’t have to. It just would be nice to have an idea of where you are, and when you’re going to be back.”

Her arms cross tight over his chest. “So you don’t trust me.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Eddie pushes to his feet, his jaw set tight. “It has nothing to do with if I trust you or me thinking you’re not capable or something. You obviously are more than capable of taking care of yourself. It’s just…”

“It’s just what, Eddie?”

Her cold tone settles into the shadows of the room, making the air feel thicker and the temperature drop significantly. It sets you on edge, your muscles tightening and your posture straightening on instinct. It has the opposite effect on Eddie. The weariness from last night reappears; his shoulders slightly rolling forward, his presence getting smaller under her stare. It seems completely out of character for him to shrink this way to anyone at all, to bend to someone else’s will so hastily.

“And if you get him killed, Max will hunt you down.”

Dustin’s warning echoes back to you in the tense silence. Understanding that this human weapon is Max, and that she would kill if anything happened to Eddie, is enough to make you second guess any leniency you had felt toward his warning. This person looks like she could tear you apart and not even break a sweat.

“Forget it. Just think about it, okay?”

The defeat in his tone, how he breaks eye contact from her staredown, seems to be enough to make her soften. “Okay,” she acquiesces, dropping the assault rifle down to lean against the wall beside the couch. She glances back to where you still stand before tipping her head back and rolling her shoulders. “I’m gonna go get some sleep.” She pushes past you, trailing tan dust the entire way, before the right side door shuts behind her.

Eddie drags a hand down his face, taking a deep breath before setting his posture straight again. “Did we wake you?” He asks, his tone dry despite the thoughtful question.

“Oh, no,” you take a few steps closer to the couch, carefully stepping over the trail of dirt Max left along the floor. “I woke up first, heard the talking after.” He nods slowly, dropping back to sit on the edge of the couch. “How did you sleep?”

The question seems to catch him off guard. “Fine.”

You decide to take another chance. “No back pain?”

His exhausted expression shifts to one of disbelief, before he cracks a smile against his will. “Smart ass.” Grateful to have gotten him to smile, no matter how unwillingly, you plop down on the other side of the couch. “I need to meet up with some people today. Around town. Make some trades, get supplies for the rest of the trip.”

“Okay, sounds good.” You can feel his stare into the side of your face, a tingling warmth across your skin. “What? What is it?”

“What’re you going to do?”

I thought I was going with you. 

Turns out you will need to fend for yourself.

You last about 15 minutes alone in the apartment. Well, not alone. But Max definitely wasn’t showing any time soon. So you got dressed and went out.

“Hey! You’re the girl who was with Eddie yesterday right?”

Halfway to where you’d met Maggie yesterday, you’re intercepted by a blonde woman. Her hair is long, pin straight, pulled back in a ponytail. Alabaster skin, high cheekbones, hazel eyes. Looks like every prom queen you would see in every 90s movie. The IT girl. The beauty pageant winner. She’s wearing a yellow floral dress that reaches down below her knees but is slightly hitched up in the front from where it’s draped over her extended stomach. One hand rests on the bump while the other extends toward you. “I’m Sadie.”

“Like, the dance?” You ask through a laugh, giving her a hesitant handshake.

“It would be funny if my last name was Hawkins.”

Sadie explains she heard about you from Maggie and that she was just ‘waddling’ over to sit with her for a few hours. “You should come join us! Unless you had something you needed to get to?”

Her smile is warm, welcoming. You’d read in books and screenplays that people sometimes described pregnant people as ‘glowing’, and looking at Sadie now… You can see why. “That’s so nice of you to offer. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay, but I will definitely walk over there with you.”

You end up staying half the day. There’s an empty stall opposite Maggie’s kitchen with two chairs, one for you and one for her. Turns out Sadie is a talker. A bit like Dustin in that way. She doesn’t ask a lot of questions, doesn’t care too much for if you participate or not. She’s happy to just keep talking. Endlessly going on about life in Memphis, the push and pull of the local groups, who has been rumored to be cavorting with who. You obviously don't know any of these people, but it’s still fun to listen to her gossip. Quantico was a small community, mostly people who all already lived on base before the pandemic hit. There wasn’t a lot of drama or gossip. They almost never brought in new people and there wasn’t a lot of disagreement within the people who were there.

At least, not at first.

“So, what are you doing with Eddie?” Sadie asks, after spending almost 2 hours waxing on and on about the life and times of Memphis.

You’ve been listening and people watching for so long, you almost miss your cue to speak. “He’s, uh, he’s helping me travel. To meet up with family.”

“Oh!” Her smile is bright and full of awe. “That’s so sweet. How long has it been since you’ve seen them? The person you’re going to meet.”

How do you say 'I’ve never actually seen her before'?

“A long time.”

She ‘aww’s, dainty hand gripping your forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Well, that’s amazing. Family is so important, and it can be so hard to stick together in times like these.”

Times like these? Is she for real?

“Yeah, that’s true. How, uh, how do you know Eddie?”

You’re desperate to get the subject back off of you and she seems more than happy to explain. “Everyone around here knows Eddie. He’s the sweetest guy, always so helpful. He runs errands for people all the time. Even the officers. I swear, so many people owe him favors, he could run this whole place if he really wanted to.” Sweet and helpful? “Him and that woman he lives with, with the red hair? Now she’s a brick. Scares me a bit, honestly. It really is a shame what happened. She was so full of life before.”

“What do you mean? What happened?”

She looks at you surprised, like she thought you would have already known. “It’s really not my place to tell. I’ve already said too much, I think.” She laughs nervously, rubbing a hand over her bump. Sure didn’t stop you when you were telling me about how Louise is juggling 3 men and none of them know it.

“Yeah, sure,” you cast your gaze back toward Maggie’s kitchen. There’s a walking path between where you’re sitting and the window that has been busy all day, people going this way and that. This market seems to be a big hub of the QZ, at least from what you’ve seen of it. You’ve listened to people trading all day, others talking about different things over bowls of Maggie’s stew of the day. Most of the eavesdropping you’d done had been much more interesting than Sadie after a while. Whispers of ration deliveries coming through less and less often. Some of the upper level FEDRA officers having meetings more often than they normally do. Nothing that is especially salacious, but apparently it’s enough to put some more paranoid people on edge.

Another hour or two passes of half listening to Sadie and half listening to the conversations around you before Eddie appears. He doesn’t notice you at first, walking up to Maggie’s door just like he did yesterday and calling her over. Her and Gus both step up and the three of them lean their heads toward each other, speaking low as Eddie pulls a set of folded papers out of his pocket and starts pointing things out to them. You sit up straighter, focusing in on them to see if you can catch a word or two on what they’re discussing, but you can’t hear anything over Sadie and the people walking between.

Warm, brown eyes meet yours before you can look away. His eyebrows draw together on his forehead, gaze flicking from you, to Sadie, and then back. There’s an obvious question in his expression, but Gus brings his attention back before you can figure out what it might be. “Oh, Eddie,” Sadie says, tapping her hand against your shoulder like you hadn’t already noticed him standing there. You give her a polite nod and smile then settle back into your plastic lawn chair. The trio only speaks for a few more minutes before Gus takes the papers from Eddie and both him and Maggie disappear back into the kitchen. “Eddie!” Sadie calls when she sees him free, waving happily to try to get his attention.

He tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, a dark wash compared to the light blue bootcuts he was wearing when you met him, and makes the few steps toward you both. He is wearing a black and red tie dye t-shirt, a white linen button up layered over it with the sleeves rolled up, showing off the scarred skin of his forearms. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail today, though it has a bit more life in it now that it’s been washed. The waves have a bit more definition, fluff up a bit more. It makes him look a bit boyish, more casual than the wolf you’d been traveling with so far. Like being in Memphis makes him softer, more relaxed.

“Afternoon,” he says once he’s passed the walking path. He eyes you both warily, like it makes him uncomfortable to see the two of you sitting together. Given Sadie’s propensity to run her mouth, you can’t blame him, though you can’t say you really learned too much about him or about Max.

“It’s nice to see you, Eddie. How long are you in town for?” Sadie’s smile is just as warm as it was towards you, her voice just as sweet, but for some reason having that same warmth directed toward Eddie makes the boil in your blood kick on.

He shifts from one foot to the other, glancing toward you again before he returns to her. “Only a day or two. We have to get on the road again, just stopped in town to stock up. And I had a delivery for Ahmed.”

“Yeah, she was just telling me you’re helping her travel to meet up with her family,” she squeezes your forearm gently again. “It’s good to hear nice stories like that, seems like everything is so sad nowadays.” He nods, breaking eye contact to look out over the market. “And it sure is lucky you ended up being back in town for the bonfire tonight.”

“Bonfire?” You ask, crossing your ankles over each other as you lean toward her another few inches.

Her expression is once again absolute delight. “Every month or so, we have a big bonfire down at Fourth Bluff Park. Everyone brings what they can, like a big potluck, and there’s music and dancing and everything. It’s the one time the officers get lenient with curfew – as long as nobody gets too rowdy.” Her bright eyes look between you and Eddie, now pleading. “You’re both coming, aren’t you?”

So when the sun starts to set, you find yourself walking side by side with Eddie toward the already roaring bonfire in the distance.

“Do you go to these things often?”

Eddie keeps several inches between the two of you as you walk, arms crossed over his chest. “Try to. Free food, free booze.”

You can’t help but perk up interest. “Free booze?”

He chuckles, his ponytail bobbing as he shakes his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not good booze.”

“Well… Any booze is good booze. At least in my opinion.” He hums an acknowledgement, side stepping out of the way when two kids run past you both in the opposite direction. “Are you planning on drinking tonight?”

His head tilts toward you, the fire already reflecting in his eyes despite the distance. “No, not tonight. But if you want to, by all means –”

“No, no.” You’re quick to interrupt, waving your hands in front of you in denial. “I don’t think so. Y’know, unfamiliar place and all.”

“Oh. Yeah, makes sense.” He kicks a rock out of his path, arms falling to his sides as you both get closer. “Seemed pretty comfortable with Sadie earlier though.”

It’s your turn to look him over. You can’t place how he feels about it, but the fact that he’s bringing it up now only reinforces the idea that he was uncomfortable when you were talking with her. “She’s sweet. Had a lot of nice things to say about you.”

A hand comes up to rub at the side of his scruff, his next breath long and loud. “Yeah, she has a kind heart for sure. Talkative too.”

“Absolutely,” you can’t help but smile, “I think I know the gossip of half the town now. Doesn’t do me much good when I don’t know anyone but… Suppose knowledge can be power.” You think back to what she said about Eddie, about how much power he wields here just by having so many people owe him favors. But, from what you can tell, he isn’t loud about that fact. He doesn’t run around flaunting it or acting high and mighty. If anything, it almost feels secretive. Something everyone knows but no one talks about. A silent power, a quiet force that works in the shadows. Hidden, but not invisible. Waiting for the right moment to collect.

“You’d think that but then you have Sadie, who knows a lot about a lot of people and…” He trails off, leaving the implication to hang there. Like he’s nervous to say it.

You’re not. “She is not the brightest bulb, that’s for sure.”

Eddie laughs, rocking back away from you with the force of it, a barking laugh that hits him expectedly. It’s louder than you were expecting but also makes it that much sweeter to hear. “No she is not.” He agrees once his laughter dies down. But his smile stays all the way up to the large group of people around the bonfire.

You’ve barely arrived before Libby seems to appear out of nowhere, grabbing at Eddie’s hands and trying to drag him away. He casts you a glance that you read as requesting your approval, and you wave him off. He lets the hyperactive girl lead him towards the tables of food. It isn’t long until Sadie finds you, looping her arm through your own and pulling you over toward a group of people laughing and talking. A drink is placed into your hand, one you smell and quickly assign as watered down piss-whiskey, so you nod a thanks and just hold it to have something to do with your hands. No one seems to pay you any mind beyond offering a polite nod of greeting, they all settle into a flow of familiar back and forth between friends.

It feels strange. To be in a community like this, to be around people like this. Laughing and talking and shooting the shit. It reminds you of how you felt when you saw Dustin and Eddie goofing around – this unfamiliarity with the comradery of it. A nagging feeling in the back of your head that it’s irrational to live like this, silly to let your guard down, irresponsible and unrealistic. How do these people act like everything is fine? Like they’re happy to live like this?

The squeal of a fiddle has you spinning on your heel toward the bonfire behind you. Across the way, a group is forming. People pulling together crates and turning over buckets to gather close together. A brunette drags her bow across the fiddle resting on her shoulder, a man holding a homemade banjo beside her, another setting up a hollowed out wooden box and sitting down right on top of it. An older woman settles onto a bucket with an acoustic guitar as a few other people with various instruments gather. The woman on the fiddle leads them into a tune, one you’re not even sure is an actual song, but they all seem to pick it up just the same.

Before too long a few couples have walked out in the space in front of the band, spinning their partners and getting into dances. A group of 4 kids runs over, linking their hands together, and starts to laugh and spin in a circle between the pairs. More people join the fray, enough to block your view. You whisper to Sadie that you’ll be back and part from the group to try to get a better view of the people playing.

You weave through the crowd and closer to that side of the circle, trying to dodge people swaying to the music or laughing boisterously and walking into your way. Half of the people you pass already seem intoxicated on the same piss that's in your cup, and it makes you shudder to think of how much of it they would’ve had to drink to even get buzzed. You find a good enough spot to watch the dancing and the players, standing off to the side, but almost jump out of your skin when someone clears their throat beside you.

Max is wearing a black hoodie over a pair of jeans, her hair down to cover the undercut. She looks so different here than the warrior you encountered this morning, her hands tucked into the pocket of her hoodie. “Hey,” she offers, barely any inflection applied.

“Hey.” She dips her head at your reply, barely an acknowledgement, before she sets her eyes back on the dancing again. You do the same, standing side by side for a while, just quietly watching the party happen around you.

Without warning, you see a few people presenting Eddie to the group of musicians. They greet him heartily, hands clapping on backs and all smiles as he interacts with them. He looks a bit like he’s trying to make a getaway, but it’s unsuccessful. A set of hands forces him down onto a wooden crate and an acoustic guitar is deposited into his hands. He runs the tips of his fingers along the strings, an easy smile growing on his face as the man on the wooden drum leans in to speak to him. From this distance, you can barely see him roll his eyes before nodding to agree. A murmur passes through the group, heads nodding and confirming before the tune they were still idly keeping up comes to a stop.

Eddie counts them off, giving 8 beats before he starts to strum. It’s a rhythmic back and forth across the strings, 4 or 5 times before the banjo plucks a 3 beat tune. The man on the wooden box bends forward and begins to tap his palm against the side, a heart beat that keeps with the melody of the banjo.

I come fresh from the street, fast on my feet Kinda crass and corny Not much meat on my bones and a whole lot alone And more than a little bit horny

A cheer rings out as Eddie starts to sing, his deep baritone ringing out in the clearing. There’s another whooping when he says the word ‘horny’, which sends him into laughs, almost missing his next cue to sing.

The old six string was all I had To keep my belly still And for each full hour lesson I gave I got a crisp ten dollar bill

You can’t take your eyes off of him. He keeps up the strumming as his eyes close, his neck extending as he sings loud and proud. The people around look on fondly, like they’re used to seeing this, like they look forward to when Eddie joins in with the band. You can’t blame them. It looks so natural to see a guitar in his hands, foot tapping, head shaking as he continues to sing. He interacts with the other people playing, leaning this way and that, even goading on the people dancing.

She said, "I wanna learn a lovе song, Full of happy things" She said, "I wanna learn a love song, Won't you let me hear you sing?" She said, "I wanna learn a love song, I wanna hear you play" She said, "I wanna learn a love song, Before you go away"

“He’s really good,” you admit, mostly to yourself. 

“Yeah, always has been.” When you look over at Max, she has a soft smile on her face. The first you’ve seen from the brief interactions you’ve had with her. “Used to be in a band and everything.”

The idea makes you smile – Eddie up on a stage, giving his all to a crowd of happy fans. Just like he is now, completely at ease and not even realizing he has the attention of almost everyone around. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Eddie plays a few more songs with the band, singing all the while, before he excuses himself. There are some claps and cheers as he stands to leave and he treats them with a dramatic bow, earning himself a few wolf whistles. He makes it a few feet away before he spots you and Max in the crowd, his face brightening in recognition before he starts walking over. There’s an ease to how he moves now. Everything about him seems lighter than you’ve seen him so far.

“You’ve got some talent, Munson, I’ll give you that.”

He laughs again, the 3rd time you’ve gotten him to laugh today, as he comes to a stop before you both. “High praise.” It’s a sarcastic reply, but there’s still a dusting of pink across his cheekbones that might not be entirely from the exertion and the heat of the fire. “Hey Red.”

She jerks her head up in greeting. “I cleaned up the dirt I tracked in. Didn’t want to upset your delicate sensibilities.” You aren’t quick enough to catch the snort, bringing your free hand up to try to hide your smile.

“You’re so generous,” he deadpans back, though it’s hard to deny the smile that splits his lips. “Actually, I’m glad I caught you,” he directs back toward you. “I have to go back to the apartment to get something for a deal. Didn’t want to disappear without saying anything.”

“You mind if I tag along?” You find yourself asking without really thinking. “I could use the air.”

He looks surprised, wide eyes blinking a few times. “Oh, yeah, sure.” He looks expectantly over at Max, who waves him off.

“I’ll hang around here. See if I can get some of Mag’s pineapple upside down cake.” He nods, mumbling something about not blaming her, before he motions for you to push through the crowd first.

The further you get from the bonfire, the chiller the air becomes. Your jacket, which almost felt like too much by the flames, is now a welcome warmth as you walk with Eddie back the way you came. There’s almost no one around here, assuming most people are either at home or over with the party, so you walk together down empty and barely lit streets.

“Max said you were in a band.”

He groans goodnaturedly, as if he's embarrassed. “Yeah, before all this. Played guitar.”

You tuck your hands into the pockets of your jacket, your elbow brushing his on accident. “Your band have a name?”

“Corroded Coffin.”

It takes everything in you to try to hold in the laugh. “Sounds… Edgy.”

He rolls his eyes, knocking his elbow against yours on purpose this time. “It was very metal, thank you very much.”

“I’m sure it was,” you concede. The two of you settle into a companionable silence as you walk the now-recognizable path toward the Claridge House. He stands taller than he did earlier, looks happier. This Eddie is a far cry from the weary one you encountered last night and this morning. Was it being at home, around people he knew that made him feel this light? Or was it the opportunity to play for the crowd that lifted the weight off his shoulders?

After holding the door open for you again, the two of you climb up to the 4th floor and walk the carpet down toward apartment 413. Another bulb or two has gone out, along with another that flickers overhead. It makes the shadows stretch longer, look sharper as they press in toward the light. Still, you don’t find yourself checking corners like you did when you arrived yesterday. While not entirely at ease, it does feel a bit safer than it did before. You wait to the side while Eddie fishes the keys out of his pocket and pushes inside. He crosses the living room to flick on the lamp while you close the door behind you. “Should be just a minute, then we can head back.”

“Take your time,” you assure him, not actually in a hurry to go back. It had been a bit overwhelming at first. But really, the thing that stuck with you was this feeling of foreboding. Something you hadn’t been able to shake for years. This feeling that something bad was going to happen, something bad always happens, though you didn’t know what or when. Something about the bonfire made that feeling more intense. Either because it all seemed too good to be true or because it reminded you how unwilling you were to accept that maybe it was just good. Maybe something could just be good. Maybe it wasn’t all just going to hurt in the end.

Eddie rounds the corner from the kitchen, presenting an unmarked container with a smile, right when the apartment goes dark. The lamp, the nightlight in the hallway, the street light that slightly shone in the living room windows. They all flick off at once and send you both into darkness.

That’s the only warning you get before the blaring horn of alarms sound outside.

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thanks for reading and for giving so much love on part 1 and the masterlist!! if you liked this part, please give it a reblog and leave a comment if you can :)

[fanby-fckry]

What’s the Deal With the Five Foot Rule?

Day 2 of Ace Alastor Week: No Touch Tuesday

Word Count: 1,868

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Warnings: Threats of Violence, References to Alastor-Typical Cannibalism/Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse

Relationships: Alastor & Angel Dust & Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust & Husk (Hazbin Hotel)

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Mentioned Mimzy (Hazbin Hotel), Mentioned Hazbin Hotel Ensemble, Mentioned Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant (mostly), Post-Episode: s01e05 Dad Beat Dad, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Light Angst, Developing Friendships, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aromantic Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Touch-Starved Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), (both tags are relevant trust me), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Being Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust Being Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Protective Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Husk is So Done (Hazbin Hotel), Drinking, Drinking & Talking, The Five Foot Rule (Hazbin Hotel), Hunicast References, you can pry the hunicast platonic radiodust dynamic from my cold dead hands

Series: Part 2 of Fanby’s Ace Alastor Week 2024 ( <- Prev || Next -> )

Summary:

“So, smiles,” Angel said, leaning against the bar and nursing a drink. “What’s your deal?”

Radio feedback crackled in the air while Husk frantically made ‘cut it out’ gestures from over Alastor’s shoulder.

“My Deal?” Alastor repeated in a tone that made Angel suspect he’d touched a nerve in a way he hadn’t even been trying to.

“Uh yeah, the whole ‘five foot rule’ thing,” Angel clarified, and watched as Alastor and Husk both visibly relaxed. “What’s up with that?”

*

A cat, a deer, and a spider walk into a hotel bar, get drunk, and discuss the finer points of Alastor’s famous ‘five foot rule’.

Better on AO3

“So, smiles,” Angel said, leaning against the bar and nursing a drink. “What’s your deal?”

Radio feedback crackled in the air while Husk frantically made ‘cut it out’ gestures from over Alastor’s shoulder.

“My Deal?” Alastor repeated in a tone that made Angel suspect he’d touched a nerve in a way he hadn’t even been trying to.

“Uh yeah, the whole ‘five foot rule’ thing,” Angel clarified, and watched as Alastor and Husk both visibly relaxed. “What’s up with that?”

“Oh, it’s quite simple, really!” Alastor said, brightly. “Don’t touch me, and you keep your hands!”

“Right, but…” Angel hesitated. For a split second, he wondered if maybe he should just leave well enough alone.

But between the liquid courage and Angel’s already small threshold when it came to regard for his own safety, he decided to just fucking go for it.

“You’re always all up in everyone else’s personal space,” he said.

Alastor tilted his head in that cute, deer-like way of his. “I don’t follow.”

“Well, take Husky, for instance-”

“Uh-uh,” Husk interrupted. “Leave me outta this, legs.”

“Nonsense!” Alastor said, interrupting Husk’s interruption by physically covering his mouth. “Let the man speak!”

“The five foot rule applies to Husk, right?” Angel asked.

“Why, of course!” Alastor answered. “And dear Husker knows better than to break it!”

Alastor wrapped his arm around a very disgruntled Husk’s shoulders, tugging him half-way over the bar. Husk hissed and squirmed, but Alastor’s grip was evidently a vice.

Which was exactly Angel’s point.

“But you’re all over him right now!” Angel said, gesturing to Alastor’s obvious breach of both his own rule and Husk’s comfort zone.

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed. Alastor pushed Husk down onto the bar and used him as an armrest as he tucked a fist under his chin. “I suppose I am!”

“And it ain’t just Husk, neither!” Angel said. “I mean, Charlie, Vaggie, fuckin’ Lucifer,” he listed. “Me, on occasion…” Although that’d mostly stopped since Angel had a panic attack that one time. Small mercies.

“I’m not countin’ Niffty and Mimzy, ‘cause it kinda seems like they’re exceptions to whatever the fuck this rule actually is, anyway,” Angel continued. “But that’s still a whole lotta people you’re gettin’ handsy with on a regular basis, Al.”

“You do have a point there, my friend,” Alastor mused, while Angel silently noted the upgrade from ‘fellow’ to ‘friend.’ He had no idea whether or not it actually indicated friendship – Alastor called Husk ‘friend’ too – but it was good to keep track of all the same.

Alastor released Husk in favor of polishing off the rest of his rye. Husk’s fur and feathers both stood on end, and he flipped Alastor off on the way to get him a refill. Angel mouthed an apology, which earned him a middle finger as well – but one that had less venom to it than the one Husk had given his boss.

“I suppose the difference lies in who’s doing the touching,” Alastor said, drawing Angel’s attention back to him.

For a moment, the Alastor looked… contemplative. That was the word. Not ‘mischievous’ or ‘vengeful.’ Not like he was plotting the downfall of Lucifer or imagining tearing apart Sinners with his teeth or whatever the fuck Alastor normally thought about that gave his resting face that inherent creep factor.

It reminded Angel of what Mimzy had said. He wouldn’t exactly call Alastor a kitten, but like this, the fucking Radio Demon seemed almost human.

“You were right about Niffty and Mimzy,” Alastor admitted. “They, along with Rosie, are very much exceptions to the rule. But the thought of anyone else touching me makes my skin crawl.”

Angel knew the feeling. It wasn’t one he had 24/7 the way Alastor seemed to, but when it hit, it hit hard.

“It doesn’t affect me if I’m the one doing the touching,” Alastor said, staring into the glass Husk had wordlessly refilled. “In fact, I think it helps… It helps to be in control of things.”

“And you get that control by pushin’ everybody else’s boundaries about touch.” Angel took a drink. “Do you ever think about how that makes them feel?” he asked.

Alastor laughed. And not a showman’s laugh or an awkward chuckle either; full-force, uproarious laughter. Like it was the funniest shit he’d heard in years.

Alastor placed a hand on Angel’s shoulder. “My dear, empathy is not an affliction I suffer from.”

“So you’re a hypocrite,” Angel said without thinking.

Three things happened in such quick succession that it took Angel getting sobered up the next morning to finally puzzle out the order of events.

One: Alastor let his hand drop from Angel’s shoulder.

Two: Husk vaulted over the bar with speed Angel hadn’t known he was capable of and wedged himself in between Alastor and Angel, wings flared in a protective stance.

Three: Alastor started laughing again.

That third thing threw both Husk and Angel for a loop.

“Calm down, Husker!” Alastor said, half breathless with laughter. “He’s right!”

“I’m right?” Angel echoed. Because, yeah, he was. But insulting an Overlord to his face was a stupid thing to do regardless of how accurate said insult was. If he’d said that to Valentino…

“Oh, don’t give in, now!” Alastor said. His radio tinned voice was a welcome interruption to a train of thought Angel really didn’t want to go down tonight. “You were onto something there!”

“Rules for thee, not for me, as they say!” Alastor threw his head back with enough force to break his own neck and fell into a fit of laughter once again.

Angel froze, barely breathing as his mind went a mile a minute trying to make sense of the absolute madness in front of him.

“Oh, stop looking at me like I’m going to bite your head off!” said Alastor, the Overlord famous for eating demons alive.

“You too, Husker.” Alastor punched Husk in the arm in a way that would probably register as playful under different circumstances. “Your attempt at playing white knight is very amusing, but we all know that if I truly wanted to harm Angel, there would be nothing you could do to stop me.”

“I’d die trying,” Husk said so softly that Angel thought he might’ve imagined it until Alastor responded.

“And you would!” Alastor agreed, far too enthusiastically. “You’d make for a delightfully tragic martyr, but there’s no need because this whole thing is hilarious!”

“It is?” Angel asked. Honestly, he didn’t feel like he was in on the joke.

“Of course it is!” Alastor insisted. “Reality has an entertainment value like no other medium! And this” – Alastor gestured to Angel and Husk – “is reality in its purest form!”

“In a drunken bout of honesty and complete disregard for the risk of a painful second death, you’ve given me insight that I never would’ve bothered to seek on my own – and you’ve done it in the funniest way imaginable!”

Angel forced a laugh. “Ya know, I gotta say, smiles, you’re givin’ off some real mixed messages on the whole ‘bitin’ my head off’ front.”

Husk huffed out what appeared to be a genuine laugh. His stance had also gotten more relaxed, and his fur and feathers were no longer puffed up.

“Yeah,” Husk said. “He does that.”

“I do!” Alastor chipped in. “And that bit is on purpose!”

Alastor downed his drink. “It’s been great chatting with you, pals!” he announced, and wrapped Angel and Husk in a disproportionate group hug.

For the first time since meeting Alastor, Angel noticed the way he pinned their arms in place so that neither of them could hug him back.

Alastor released Angel and Husk from his iron grip and immediately darted out of reach – something Angel also hadn’t taken note of before now.

“If either of you foolishly attempt to use this information against me, I’ll flay the skin from your hands, cut out your tongues, and eat your livers!” Alastor said in the same cheery tone you might use to tell a friend to enjoy their weekend plans.

And then he was gone.

“What.” Angel paused for dramatic effect. “The fuck.”

Husk – who hadn’t moved from his spot as the barrier between Angel and Alastor – took a seat in the next barstool over.

Husk shook his head. “Forty-odd years of that crazy bastard holding my leash and I still don’t know what the fuck he’s talkin’ about half the damn time.”

Husk leaned over the bar and reached blindly underneath it. He came back out with a bottle of something strong, so either he found what he was looking for from memory and touch alone, or he got stupidly lucky. Knowing Husk, either seemed likely.

“So,” Angel said, fidgeting with his lower set of hands and talking with his upper ones. “Should I be worried about him changin’ his tune about this little heart-to-heart once he sobers up tomorrow?”

Husk took a swig from the bottle he’d found. “Nah,” he said. “Just stick to his hypocritical five foot rule and act like tonight never happened.”

“Ya know, I meant to ask about that too,” Angel said. “Why does he call it the ‘five foot rule’ if he barely ever enforces the distance part? Why not the ‘hands off rule’ or the ‘no touch rule’?”

“Legs, I just told you I don’t always know what’s goin’ on in that fucked up head of his.”

“Aww,” Angel cooed. “Has the wise old bartender finally met his match?”

Husk scoffed. “I know more about Alastor than I ever wanted to. And it’s still just the tip” – Angel snickered at the phrasing. Husk rolled his eyes before reiterating – “the tip of the iceberg.”

“Honestly, I don’t know if he even knows what’s goin’ on in his own head sometimes,” Husk said quietly. “Until tonight, I thought he liked it better that way.”

Alastor made his way back to his room the old fashioned way – by physically walking there – humming along to a jaunty tune he’d plucked from the airwaves.

He’d learned something about himself! What an interesting turn of events!

You learn something new every day, but after over a century of combined life and Afterlife, Alastor had begun to believe he knew all there was to know about himself.

And this particular insight came with the added benefit of a rather dramatic reveal! Husker – the old has-been – could still put on a show when given the right motivation, and Angel Dust had been a wonderful wildcard to add into the mix!

Alastor wondered if he should examine the information they’d brought to light any further. If he should be asking questions about why he felt so comfortable in his hypocrisy. Why he both craved and despised touch. Why he was more than willing to put others’ comfort aside in order to maintain his own.

But the very existence of those questions brought an itch under his skin. That same crawling feeling that struck him when he felt someone else’s hands on him, like maggots wriggling inside a corpse.

Alastor melted into the shadows, the lack of physical form easing the feeling somewhat.

No, he decided. I think that’s quite enough self-discovery for one day.

[ladykailitha]

Staking My Claim Part 5

We are almost done just one more after this one! I thought about posting this on Tuesday to give the first chapter of the second book of Boy With a Bat some love.

But with this one literally two chapters away from being finished it didn't seem fair to postpone this one.

Here we have Nurse Jeff and sweet Eddie.

Pt 1| Pt 2|Pt 3| Pt 4|

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Once they other three were gone Jeff turned to Steve and Eddie.

“Right the real reason I’m here is because I’m going to make you two don’t jump each other before Steve is well enough.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other and blushed.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jeff said, crossing his arms and leaning back on one foot.

“Eddie go get us some lunch and I’ll make sure Stevie here isn’t going to throw up again.”

Eddie nodded and grabbed his keys. He gave Steve a kiss on the cheek and dashed off, leaving Steve alone with Jeff.

Jeff turned on the light in the kitchen to better see Steve’s face. He held Steve’s chin and turned his head gently to the light and away from it.

“Your dilation is a little slow,” he said. “That’s not good.”

Steve nodded. “I’ve had concussions before. It feels a bit like that. The dizziness, the nausea, the pounding in my head.”

Jeff nodded. “I think I still have some anti-nausea medication and if I don’t, we can try some Pepto, okay?”

Steve nodded. “I wouldn’t have done anything,” he said softly.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“With Eddie,” he whispered. “Not before we got back to Hawkins, anyway.”

“Oh?”

Steve nodded again. “I’m bit too romantic for my own good. And having the chance I might ruin our first time with puking is the last thing I’d want.”

“First time?” Jeff asked over his shoulder as he went to the bathroom.

“I meant it when I licked him, he’s mine now.”

Jeff chuckled.

He came back out holding two bottles. “Looks like I have two kinds of anti-nausea meds. One is very heavy duty, so we’ll try the other one first. We don’t want to mix something heavier if the knock out drug is still in your system.”

Steve nodded.

“In fact,” Jeff muttered. “I should call my mom.”

He set the two bottles on the counter next to Steve and went to the phone.

After a brief conversation Jeff picked up the heavier medication. “She actually recommended the tougher meds to counter whatever was given to you. She even wants you to stop by on your way home so she can look you over.”

Steve blushed. “She doesn’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow and Steve ducked his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. My sister is a lot like you, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“She’s the oldest,” Jeff murmured, “so she was brought up that she had to take care of everyone else and couldn’t ask for help.”

“Oh.”

Jeff rubbed the top of his head. “Look, man. I get it, I really, really do. If your parents are as half the shit the rumor mill makes them out to be, you’ve been abandoned and neglected all your life. Somehow, someway you became the defacto older brother to the weirdest group of latchkey kids I’ve ever seen and you think you have to do everything for them because you didn’t get to have that. But thinking like that will only wear you down and out.”

“It’s hard,” Steve admitted. “They’ve been through so much.”

Jeff let out a sigh. “I get that too. You and those kids have been through some heavy ass shit. I also get that you think that because you’re the oldest you can’t tell them what you’re feeling because you don’t want to burden them.”

“You’re Robin and Nancy’s age,” Steve said quietly.

Jeff frowned, not quiet understanding the comment. Then it dawned on him. “Eddie isn’t.”

Steve’s head shot up. “What?”

“I know it’s hard to remember because he graduated with me and the other guys,” Jeff said. “But Eddie is older then you. He was supposed to graduate in ‘84.”

Steve blinked. “Oh. Yeah.”

“So lean on him,” Jeff said. “Yeah, you’re attracted to him. And you definitely want to fuck. But let him in emotionally, too. I think you’ll find he’s as a great a listener as he is a talker.”

Steve blushed.

Just then the door swung open to reveal Eddie with a large bag of McDonald’s.

“I didn’t know what you would like,” Eddie said with a grin, “so I got a little of everything I could think of.”

Steve smiled. “I’m sure I’ll find something I like then.”

They all dug in and polished off most the bag of fast food.

“Seriously,” Steve said, “why does greasy food always the best hangover cure?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know. It defies all logic. You would think it would be stuff that was easy on your stomach like toast and rice would be better, but nope!”

Steve took Eddie’s hand. “Thanks for taking care of me. I appreciate it.”

Eddie blushed to his roots. “You don’t need to thank me. I just did what the next person would have done.”

Jeff snorted. “Bullshit. You went above and beyond and you know it. There is no shame in accepting his thanks. You did good, man.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his embarrassment. “You’re welcome, Stevie.”

“I think you should go lay back down,” Jeff suggested to Steve. “We’ll be here if you need us.”

Steve nodded and wandered back to Eddie’s room. He closed the door and laid down, sure that he wouldn’t sleep as he had already slept a lot. But it appeared he needed it more than he thought as he drifted back to dreamland.

***

Part 6

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @lololol-1234 @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @live-the-fangirl-life @hellfireone @lublix @breealtair @croatoan-like-its-hot @f0xxyb0xxes @jamieweasley13 @r0binscript @confuseddisastertm @sleepdeprivedflower @thedragonsaunt @dissociatingdemon @dragonmama76

[marenwithanm]

Chapter 3 page 21! Sorry I didn't post this on Tuesday, I just straight up forgot lol

First | Previous | Next | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Transcript:

Ocean: Are you okay?!

-

Pinkie: Hey Wood, I'm trying to teach Leaf how to braid, you should join us!

-

Pinkie: Let's go over there.

-

Ocean: Yeah, he's got it.

[sissylittlefeather]

Time for...

A Very Quiet Life: Chapter 4

A/N: I know this one is kind of a bummer, and it's super short, but it's important to the storyline, so don't give up on it. Part 5 is *literally* steamy 🥵

Warnings: reader is a widow, this one is angsty, but that's about it. Sorry no smut this time, ya lil horny devils.

Links to:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Stick around... there's much more to come!

Song inspo (because now I've done it on every post, I have to keep doing it)

Aaaaaaaand gifs:

How are you going to keep yourself from getting used to this?

******

You wake up to a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Bye, baby."

"What time is it?"

"Almost 5:30. Go back to sleep." You nod your head and he kisses you softly on the lips and leaves. You hear the front door open and close quietly. The bed feels empty without him already, so you go ahead and get up. The first thing you do is change your shirt because Jane will probably recognize it. Before you hide it in your drawer, you put your face in it and breathe deeply. His smell is still there, even though you wore it all night.

You shouldn't miss him this much.

You make some coffee and sit on your front porch watching the sunrise and waiting for the kids to wake up.

Once the sun is up, you see Elvis walk out to get the paper. Your heart skips a beat and you're dying to call out to him. You don't even have to, though, because when he turns to walk back up to the house, he spots you and waves. He jogs over to you and leans against the railing on the steps up to your porch.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Elvis. We can't do this. Someone might see you." You whip your head from side to side, looking for nosey neighbors to come crawling out of the bushes.

"What? I'm just a neighbor coming to say hello." He gives you a winning grin.

"Elvis." His face falls and he looks at the ground. "When does your wife get home?" He swallows hard.

"Tuesday." Today is Sunday. "You know she travels a lot." He looks up at you hopefully.

"Not enough for us to... we just can't. I can't... I have the kids and I just... I can't." Your heart feels like it's in a vice that just gets tighter and tighter and it's taking everything in you not to cry. He looks back down at the ground and nods.

"I guess I better go home, then." He turns to walk back to his house, but then stops and turns back to you. "But if you ever change your mind..."

Just then, Jane calls from inside the house. "Mooooom!" You stand up from the porch and he turns and walks away. You watch him go before Jane comes to the door. "Mom! I'm hungry." You sigh and go back into the house to tend to the kids.

******

You spend a lazy Sunday with the kids on the couch watching tv and reading. You go ahead and give Michael the comics you've bought for his birthday next month, since he's so pitiful with his cast. He can't read yet, but he likes to look at the pictures.

Round about 3 o'clock there's a light knock on the front door. When you get to the door, you're surprised to find Elvis there. You thought you were pretty clear this morning. Before you can say anything about it though, he opens his mouth.

"I'm here to see Michael. I brought him some stuff to help his recovery." He holds up a bag. "Can I come in?" You feel bad for assuming he was there to see you.

"Sure." You open the door and he walks in and goes to the living room. When he gets to Michael on the couch, he plops the bag down between his legs and starts pulling stuff out. He has a pint of chocolate ice cream, a stack of comic books, and a model car, still in the box waiting to be built. Michael goes straight for the comics. They're older ones, but he doesn't care. He's never seen them before and he's fascinated.

"Where did you get these?" He asks excitedly.

"They were mine when I was younger. I thought you might like them." The gesture is so kind, it tugs at your heart a little.

"Should I take the ice cream to the kitchen?" You cut in, noticing that it's already starting to melt.

"Can I have some too, Mama?" Jane asks politely.

"Sure, honey." You take the ice cream and go into the kitchen to put it into two bowls. When you come back out, Elvis is showing Michael the car box.

"I know your hand is a little busted up right now, but I thought I could help you build it sometime when it's feeling better." Michael nods excitedly.

Why does he have to be married?

You hand the ice cream to the kids and they go to work eating it. Elvis stands up.

"I guess I better be going. Thanks for letting me bring the stuff in."

"Thank you for the ice cream, Mr. Presley!" Jane calls to him. Michael just grunts and nods. He's too busy eating. You walk Elvis to the front door.

"Thank you for doing that. You didn't have to--"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I want to? Can't I still love your kids even if you won't let me..." he trails off. You can tell he's frustrated with you.

"Yes. I'm sorry. We need someone like you... THEY. They need someone like you." You caught it too late and he notices. He looks at you almost hopefully and then nods.

"Well, I'll be around as long as they need me." He walks out the front door and back to his house.

******

Chapter 5 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101 @ccab @suxny @hernameisnoellex3 @ashtag6887 @arabellapresley @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @elvisxsposts @joshuntildawn13 @msamarican @returntopresley

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Ivy | chapter six

summary: Rooster does something stupid, again.

listen to: Die for you - The Weeknd | Can’t remember to forget you - Shakira (playlist here)

warning: noneee.

word count: 2 k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fii!!

“Dog fights today,” Maverick stated as he entered the classroom and all of you stood up from your seats as you waited for further instructions. “Ambush, which is what we will be facing in the mission,”

“So, who against who?” Fanboy asked Maverick with a slight smirk. 

“Rooster, Brat, Phoenix- Bob, and Harvard- Omaha is one team,” Maverick explained as he started to make the screen behind his work to show you the terrain you would be working on. “Coyote, Hangman, Payback-Fanboy, and Halo-Yale are the one’s doing the ambushing,”

“Shit,” you muttered. 

“Is everyone ready?” Maverick asked with a smile as everyone, but you stated a good ‘Yes, sir. 

It wasn’t a good idea. Part of you wondered if it was Maverick’s intention after your mother had let it slip that you were getting closer to Jake. Nonetheless, you also knew he’d been secretly doing his best to try to keep your distance from Rooster after everything that had happened between the two of you. You sighed as you walked towards your F-18. 

You were screwed, either way, it wasn’t Maverick doing, it was your own. You glanced softly at Jake and Rooster who were already bickering as they were preparing their planes. Jake and Rooster always had their rivalry that had decreased slightly after the uranium mission, you were always a third party on it but now the role you were playing wasn’t just as a fellow pilot. 

You weren’t stupid, you’d noticed the glares they were shooting each other, especially since your argument with Jake. The loaded comments they gave each other, how grumpy they turned when they realized you were coupled with the other. You just thought it was stupid and how damaging it could be for the mission, all of you would be flying and this wasn’t part of the plan. Therefore you’d chosen to get away from both of them. 

You’d been ignoring Jake altogether after the stunt he’d pulled the week prior. Instead, you were spending time with Phoenix and Bob, trying to also be always with other people when you spent time with Rooster in order to avoid any chance of him misconstructing what you had. 

It was still awful for Jake when he saw that you were always with Bradley, even if Bob and Phoenix were in the mix. He’d been awkward about seeing you with Rooster, you’d noticed the cutting glare he was giving you. You didn’t answer Jake’s text after that, you’d also barely acknowledged him during the week.

He felt his heart sinking when he realized that he was losing you, though, he didn’t quite know what to do. He’d texted you on Monday night, asking you if he could come over so he could explain, but you didn’t reply. The same thing happened on Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday, Hangman had asked you to meet up later but you were too fed up with him for his behavior. You knew your callsign was Brat, but you were sure that you should give him your callsign after the stunt he was pulling on you. 

You’d asked him for space, he’d begrudgingly accepted it. 

If you were honest, you were struggling more than what you were letting know. Just then you realized how much you were getting used to Jake, to his laughter, to how you felt with him. Living the way you were living before was almost like living in a golden cage, you were following the script that was given to you. With Jake, you felt more alive than ever; and yet it seemed like you couldn’t trust him.

Rooster, though, he’d always been there. 

Rooster was the one who’d come over almost every day for dinner with Sarah, Rooster who was giving you rides to your place and taking you to the Hard Deck when he’d noticed that you were feeling a little bit down. He’d been making sure that you were okay like he’d done since you could remember. 

Like he was doing now that you were in the air, trying to avoid Coyote as he tried shooting you down. 

“Come on, Brat,” his whisper resounded in your ear but you didn’t pay much attention to his words. 

“Phoenix, get him off my back!” you screamed, exhausted from how you’d been maneuvering the plane. 

“We’re trying!” Phoenix replied in your ear. 

You could feel your heart hammering on your own ears as you nearly avoided Coyote’s shot. The strategy of the other team was clear, they weren’t working per se together, they chose one of you to focus on. Hangman didn’t choose you clearly and part of you was glad that he didn’t. 

“Break right, Phoenix!” you could hear Bob yelling from your earpiece. “Break right, Halo’s behind us!”

Fuck, you were alone now. 

“Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled on the lever as hard as you could. You felt as if your chest was going to burst as you rose through the sky, trying to lose Coyote, part of you hoped he wouldn’t want to enter G-lock so he wouldn’t chase you. 

“Omaha,” you asked. “Talk to me, talk to me, where’s Coyote?”

You were staring directly at the sun as you tried to avoid Coyote but no one was talking to you, no one was saying anything. You tried to zig-zag your way through the sky but then you heard his voice. 

“On your tail, Brat,” Coyote’s smug tone made you want to slap him in the face. 

You rolled your eyes as you looked at the sun and decided on your next move. You glanced at the clock, it’d been fifteen minutes of running away from Coyote and he almost had you. 

“Not anymore, asshole,” you grumbled as you decided where to move next. 

Suddenly, Rooster’s voice invaded your cockpit. “Brat, don’t!” he said urgently as you immediately frowned, you didn’t move. 

“Rooster?”

“Break left,” he ordered you as you began to hear more and more noises closer to you. Your head felt like it was going to explode because of the G-force. 

“Rooster,” your voice now strained. 

“Just do it!” he screamed, the way he said it, so urgently, made your stomach sink. 

Your instinct was saying that you could do this, you could win. It wasn’t the plane, it was the pilot and you were one of the best. But you also trusted Rooster with your entire life and so, you made a choice. Quickly, you broke left, quickly maneuvering your plane so you could stabilize your breathing but suddenly, you saw Rooster’s plane going right in front of you. 

Your eyes widened as it dawned on you what he was doing, and your heart sank as you let out labored breaths. He’s not… 

“Rooster, you’re down,” Coyote stated with a small chuckle and you frowned immediately, your grip tightened on the wheel as you maneuvered your plane. 

Maverick called off the exercises shortly after that. Phoenix and Bob had managed to shoot Halo and Yale down, Harvard and Omaha hadn’t managed to get Payback, and Fanboy, Rooster, and Hangman had been all over the place, barely talking but they were multiple times about to shoot the other until Rooster decided to sacrifice himself. Neither of you had technically won, but you knew that the other team had done well.

Though, you weren’t too worried about the exercise. You felt the anger bubbling in your chest, liquid rage running hot through your veins. 

He always does this. He always thinks he has to be the hero and that’s going to get him killed. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you screamed at Rooster as he climbed down the F-18. He winced as soon as he heard your tone. “I had it under control,” you stated through gritted teeth as you pushed your index finger accusingly against his chest. 

He huffed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed your wrist. “You didn’t!” he snapped back at you. You wriggled your hand out of his hold. 

“How can you do that?” you bit, you felt your cheeks getting warmer and warmer by the second as you furiously held his gaze. You didn’t know if he didn’t get it, you yourself didn't even get how much it still got to you until it dawned on you how you were acting. “You think this is a game?”

Rooster frowned at your words. “Brat,” he stated softer than before, he tried to step closer to you but you gave a step back. 

It only served to break you down even more. 

“I can’t lose you!” you scream at him. “You can’t do that when we’re on the mission! You can’t go sacrificing yourself for everyone!”

Rooster’s features softened even more. He might be your ex-boyfriend, and your relationship might’ve failed but when you walked away from him you were not only losing him, you were also losing your best friend. Rooster and you’d been together since you could remember, even if you weren’t together anymore, he was still family. 

“C’mere,” Rooster muttered quietly as he stepped closer to you and pulled you into a hug. His scent invaded your space as you fell into his chest, it was so familiar, it felt like before. “You’re not going to lose me,”

You sighed as you looked up at him. “You’re still my best friend,” you replied silently. “You can’t be doing shit like that, I had it under control,”

“Brat, I would do anything for you,” Rooster whispered as he took your hair and held your cheek, his thumb lovingly caressing your cheekbone. 

The air shifted as the silence filled the space. You gaze at his honey-burnt eyes and you knew that this was different than the interactions that you’ve had since you were called to the mission. You didn’t know if you were still hurting over Jake, you didn’t know if it was the adrenaline of the mission but your eyes lingered on Rooster’s lips longer than you wished they had. 

You couldn’t look at Hangman through the rest of the day, guilt eating your chest as you sat there and listened to Maverick going on and on about the exercise. The rest of the day you were faced with following the simulation of the terrain, you were glad that you didn’t really have to interact with anyone. At any moment you weren’t too busy thinking about the mission, your mind pictured Jake’s eyes as you’d told him that you didn’t want to talk to him and then Rooster’s eyes as he had held you mere hours before. 

Rooster must’ve noticed how distant you were because as soon as you were sent home, he suggested that he gave you a ride. You hesitated at first, you didn’t know if it was a good idea by the way you’d acted earlier but you knew that you were, either way, safer if he drove you home.

Rooster walked you to your place and helped you with your bag, quickly dropping it next to your couch as you took off your boots and walked to the kitchen, secretly hoping he might leave and you wouldn’t have to deal with whatever you were feeling. 

But as you turned around, you realized he was still lingering on the door as he watched you carefully. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly with a smile. 

“You know it’s never a problem,” Rooster replied, maybe he took it as an invitation as he walked towards you. He quickly took your wrist and gave you a small loving squeeze, your breath hitched as he walked closer. “I’m going to go now,” he stated but he didn’t move an inch. 

You felt a sudden dread by the way he was looking at you, and yet you didn’t move at first until you recall those sea-foam eyes. You were determined not to do anything stupid, Rooster was your ex and he was also your best friend, things had been good up until now, you couldn’t ruin it. 

“Sure, thank you again,” you whispered as you walked to the door, ready to open it for him, ready for him to leave.

But then he spoke.

“Brat?”

You turned around and Rooster quickly attached his lips to yours into a searing kiss.

***

author's note: it's going to start to get wild in the next few chapters.

***

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