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mynameismckenziemae · 8 months

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In Case You Didn’t Know Part 1

(next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OFC

Summary: Jake and Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Mason (you) have been best friends since diapers. You’ve been there for each other every step of the way; middle school bullies, broken hearts, baseball games, grad school and the Navy. Jake’s shaken to the core when a mission goes south and he takes his medical leave at home, knowing you’re the only thing that’ll make him feel okay again.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI-this chapter doesn’t contain smut but future ones will, discussions of death and cancer, swearing, etc.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake always thought the whole ‘life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die’ saying was bullshit.

But as his jet plummets toward the ground and smoke fills the cockpit, he realizes it’s true; with one exception.

Every memory features you.

The engine failure alarms serve as the background music to each one that flies by. On the first day of kindergarten when you took his hand to lead him inside because he was too scared to go in alone. Being each other’s first kiss the night before Becca Wilson’s birthday party since seven minutes in heaven was rumored to happen. The relieved smile when you found out you were allowed to play on the boy’s high school baseball team since there weren’t enough girls for softball. How you blushed at his whistle when you walked down the stairs in your prom dress. The way you melted when he handed you the black lab puppy you wanted so badly after grad school but couldn’t afford. Finally, the heart-wrenching sobs as he held you when cancer stole your mom 6 months ago. He never wanted to hear it again.

Will you cry like that if he dies?

“No,” he mutters, picturing your tears, your devastation.

Is it better or worse that you don’t know he’s in love with you?

“Hangman, I need you to eject,” your voice whispers.

His brow furrows. You’ve never called him by his callsign.

“Charlie?” He mumbles, unconsciousness fighting to pull him under.

“HANGMAN! EJECT!” Rooster screams, pleading over the radio.

He snaps out of it and adrenaline pumps through his veins when he sees the ground rapidly approaching.

Everything goes black when he pulls the ejection handle.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“…recovery is at least 12 weeks. We’ll get you transferred to NHCP-“

“No. I’m going home,” Jake interrupts the doctor. He hates everything medical; between the needles, blood, fluorescent lighting, antiseptic smells, he feels like he could crawl out of his skin.

“Lt. Seresin, you’re going to need a lot of assistance. Help showering, stairs are out of the question, you can’t drive, daily physical therapy-“

“I know. I’ll have help at home and I know a great physical therapist,” Jake says in a tone that leaves no room for discussion.

The doctor hesitates before resigning with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll get the write the orders and finish your discharge paperwork so we can get you out of here.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A loud crash from your front porch has you sitting straight up in bed with a racing heart.

The hair on your dog’s (named Cash, after the Man in Black himself) back stands straight up as he growls low in his throat.

You slip out of bed and pick up the baseball bat you keep by your bed before creeping down the hall behind your dog.

“Charlie? It’s me,” Jake groans through the door. Cash relaxes when he hears Jake’s familiar voice and his tail starts to wag excitedly.

You drop the bat and throw it open. “What are you doing here at 5 in the morning?!” You laugh, but it dies when you see him on the ground. “Oh my God, Jake! What happened?! Are you okay?!” You gasp, crouching to help him onto his back. Cash stays back, sensing something isn’t right.

“I lost my balance on the step trying to juggle my suitcase and these fucking crutches,” he grits out, trying to right himself.

“Leave the crutches. I’ll hand them to you once I get you up. On three, okay? 1,2,3,” you say, hoisting him to his feet. Well, foot.

But before you can hand him the crutches, he wraps you in a tight hug with a choked sob.

“Oh Jake,” you whisper, tears prickling in your own eyes. You’ve only seen him cry a handful of times, and never like this.

You rub soothing circles on his back, only releasing him when he finally relaxes. “Let’s get you inside and off that leg.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“You look like awful,” you observe as you get him settled on your couch.

“Thanks,” he grimaces when you elevate his foot.

“What am I working with here?” You nod to his cast.

“Fractured the 2 bones in my lower leg. Nothing else is broken, I’m sore everywhere and my shoulders are pretty bruised too, but I was lucky.”

“You had to eject,” you conclude when he pulls his collar to show you the dark purpling.

“Yeah, in a heavily wooded area, hence the scratches on my face. I suppose it was a good thing though, slowed me down a little before I hit the ground.”

You bite your lip to stop the many questions on the tip of your tongue. He looks so exhausted, in pain, and not ready to talk about it yet.

“I’ll make us something to eat and I’m going back to sleep for a bit. You look like you could some too.”

He nods in agreement. “I haven’t slept in days…I just wanted to get home.”

“Well, now you are and can rest. I’ll be back in a few.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Here, take these,” you hand him some over-the-counter pain meds and a glass of orange juice once he has some food in his stomach.

“Thanks, I’m sorry to drop in like this. I don’t-I didn’t think things through, I just needed to get out of that hospital-“

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, unable to watch him getting more and more anxious. “Really, Jake. You know I’m always here for you. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Charlie. So much,” he says, voice cracking. But he clears his throat and changes the subject. “This couch is amazing, but do you really need 50 pillows?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and roll your eyes. “Yes, I really do,” you say, smacking him gently with one of the said pillows before handing him the remote. “Wanna find something to watch while I throw these in the dishwasher?”

“Sure, thanks again.”

“Welcome,” you reply, ruffling his hair like you always have. It used to drive him crazy but now he relishes those touches.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Yessssss, Joe Dirt! I haven’t seen this in ages,” you say, throwing a blanket over him as you come back to the living room.

“We watched it last time I was home,” Jake says, giving you a look.

“Yeah, that was 5 months ago though,” you reply. Recalling why he was here.

Your mom had died early on a Tuesday morning. It was as peaceful as it could be when cancer ravishes someone so quickly. Cash was curled around your legs as you held one of her hands in yours, while Jake’s mom, Ruth held the other. Jake’s sister, Emma, played with the short hair that started to grow back when she stopped the chemo like she always did when she was little. Jake’s dad, Tom had a hand on her leg while he hummed ‘I’ll Fly Away’.

Jake’s family left once the funeral home took her body away after much convincing and reassuring that you were fine, and finally you could fall back into bed. That’s where you stayed for the next 18 hours until Jake found you, so empty and unlike yourself. He was on his way home when he found out Lisa had taken a turn for the worst, but she went downhill quicker than anyone expected. Your first tears fell as he climbed into bed and held you when the sobs wracked your body.

You’re not sure what strings he pulled but he stayed with you for 3 weeks. He helped you bathe and dry your hair the day of the funeral, making you smile when he said he couldn’t do make up. He held your hand at the service, and talked to everyone who approached to give their sympathies so you didn’t have to. He cleaned up her room, packed her clothes into totes, and arranged for the hospital bed to be taken away so you didn’t have to look at it.

“You could go years without watching it and be able to recite it by heart with how many times we’ve seen this movie,” Jake sighs dramatically.

“It’s my favorite. Can you blame me? Look at that mullet.”

“That’s what does it for ya? Maybe I’ll have to grow one,” Jake jokes, lifting his head as you sit down and resting back down on your thighs. Cash jumps up on the other side, resting his head between Jake’s and your stomach.

“Don’t tease me, you’ll turn me on with that visual,” you laugh. “Can you do the white-trash facial hair too? That combination? Phew! Panty dropping!”

He looks up from your lap and laughs for the first time since the accident.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

The tension leaves his body as your fingers run through his hair, and he’s asleep within minutes.

Your chest tightens as you look him over; the dark circles under his eyes, a cut under his chin has stitches that will need to come out soon, the purple bruising by his shoulders when you shift his collar, and his leg swelling above the cast.

Yet he’s as beautiful as ever. He’s always been attractive-cute as a boy, hot as a teenager but downright mouth-watering as a man. You started to develop feelings in high school and hoped when you went your separate ways after that those feelings would fizzle out, but they didn’t. They were always simmering on the back burner with the absence, rising to the top with every reconciliation and boiling over when he took care of you 6 months ago.

You aren’t sure how Jake feels. He’s always been a flirt but sometimes you catch the heat in his eyes and the way he reaches for you before catching himself. As much as you long to find out, you aren’t willing to risk ruining your friendship.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake’s choking, panicked gasps wake you a few hours later.

“Jake, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re okay,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead before you think better of it.

His eyes fly open and his panicked gaze meets yours. Cash comes over and nudges Jake's hand with his nose, whining until Jake puts his hand on his head.

“Take some deep breaths with me. In…one, two, three. Hold…one, two, three. Out…one, two, three. Good Jake, again.”

You repeat it until his breathing regulates.

“Charlie, we need to talk. I need you…r help.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: I think this is the first thing I’ve written without smut. Don’t worry, it’s coming. Sorry this was a little short, but it felt like a good stopping point.

Fun fact: Joe Dirt is the movie my husband and I watched the first time we hung out (back in 2009 🥴)

Every interaction is appreciated but I really like hearing what you think ☺️ Especially since this is the first time I’ve written something not based around smut haha.

Tagging:

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@blindedbythelightt

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#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #in case you didn't know #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x ofc #jake hangman seresin x ofc

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ihaznoclue · 1 month

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Liar...

Pairing -> Von Lycaon x Reader

Note -> I thought of this idea myself and wanted to write it, also this is like a crossover with ZZZ and Arcane

Summary -> You were close friends with Lyacon when you were younger, but after he vanished without saying anything, you believed he had passed away. Nevertheless, you two eventually crossed paths again

Genre -> Angst (who doesn’t love angst I do! 🙋 even though I'm writing an angst fic Hehehe >:) )

I'm just going to call the vampire dude - Vlad 'Great ruler'

The 'thief in the moonlight' was a title you went by, and you took pride in it to convince your friends that you deserved that title.

You guys were inseparable. Lycaon and Vlad gave you the vibe of siblings rivalry, always fighting.'

Vlad always made Lycaon say his lines as you didn't do anything but do your own thing, by stealing at night so no-one could see your face. You were quite happy to do this job.

Nevertheless, things get worse. Since Lycaon hasn't returned from his mission, it's possible that something bad happened to him. You were growing concerned, Lycaon was nowhere to be found or heard in hours into the night.

"Vlad, it has been hours since Lycaon left. What if something were to happen to him?" Vlad appeared to be somewhat at ease and not bothered at all , but you were worried.

You heard Vlad sigh, "Maybe something did happen to him, but we can't let that set us back on our jobs. Can we now?" Vlad spoke. You were set aside from his words but you couldn't argue as you sighed "Yes Sir" You bowed your head in apology.

That was the day that you thought that Lycaon has died..

Its been years now, you've grown and changed, you've grown out your hair quite a lot to the point you had to braid it. You also got some tattoos for yourself because why not.

You been with Vlad for years now, never leaving his side, it was like he adopted you. But Vlad would be irritated by your actions sometimes but he can't do anything about it can he?

You been seeming to wonder off on your own since well you can and there is no-one to tell you off, since your parents died from ethereals when they went into the hollow when you were 6 years old.

Now you've become stronger, more mindful of your own freedom.

Rumors were spreading fast about the 'thief in the moonlight', You were quite happy about the rumors that have been spreading throughout New Eridu about you, you have always desired fame. A well-known figure who the public knows from your 'amazing' deeds.

It was quite interesting of how 'famous' you've become in a new place called New Eridu.

But everything goes to shit in one day.. You were minding your own business in Vlad's hideout, but you had a hideout of your own.

Markings everywhere, swinging lights hanging from above, below with a deep hole with you loved to throw your created explosives down there and watch the fire roar up to the surface.

Your own little experiment table as you love to experiment new things that you stole, seeing if it was worthy of showing Vlad or not or just simply turn it into something more valuable. You wanted to impress him as much as possible.

You were now hiding on top of the roof in Vlad's office, you loved to stay up there without anyone knowing except for Vlad. He was sitting on his chair near his desk as he minded his own business.

You were swinging your legs back and forth as you became bored. Bored out of your mind, you did many experiments already and you had nothing else to do

"Vlad" You spoke, Vlad looked up at you with his fiery red eyes. "Yes dear?" He asked

"Can I do something? Rather than staying here doing nothing" You stated, Vlad smiled with his fangs. "Of course dear, Just don't cause any more trouble" He noted, the last time you messed up his plans was last week when you 'accidently' exploded a part of the New Eridu city, you didn't mean to, you just left your shark looked dynamite there that's all.

"Yeah, Yeah I won't" You bragged, you got off on the roof, landing in front of his desk. "I won't cause any messes" You smiled innocently

Vlad nodded you off, you knew he needed his space to do his work so you left without any seconds. You went back to your hideout as you grabbed a few things and a few of your explosives just for emergencies as well as your experiments and a bag to collect things.

It was almost night, you decided to go to the ballet twins building since there was so many goods in there as well as a hollow, you wanted to have some fun.

You chose a perfect time to go in, 9:30pm. Another 30 minutes as you'll sneak right in, you tried to hide from people. You didn't want to get caught now did you?

You waited and waited until it was time to shine and show your skills. You climbed up where you have found a window to break through, this was going to be perfect.

But...

The problem was, you didn't know what lurks in that building this evening. You jumped through the window and landed on the surface below you.

While you were sneaking inside you could hear some voice, so you followed to see that their were guards, holding a girl captive. She had pink hair as her mouth was covered making her voice muffled up.

It wasn't your problem but you wanted to have a little bit of fun with these people.

Meanwhile... with the cunning hares

"We're here"

"The ballet twins.."

"Ooo~ Impressive"

The figures continued to walk around, Billy and Nekomata seeming to be cold form the fog

"Urgh, this place is cold, huh?"

"Yeah... It may look all glitzy, but something doesn't feel right.." Nekomata tried to grab Billy's jacket but then went to Anby instead

"Hm, be careful everyone. There's thick fog in here - it may hold danger"

There was a noise, it was the bangboo sculpture that fell down making everyone go into fight or flight mode

Billy nervously chuckled

"Phew, that almost made me jump, ha.. haha"

The talking scarf bangboo sighed

"I don't think we should stick around here, let's hurry up and find her"

They all went to find the girl

Nekomata stretched

"Phew, we did it"

"Anby, what you felt, that was the ethereals right!?"

"Hmm.. Not sure. Was it?"

"So Manager, where should we go from here?"

"Hang on, Let me check.." The bangboo spoke

Nekomata stretched again as she started to clean herself

behind her was red bling as it went straight towards her, but Anby with quick reflexes managed to grab her in time to pull her back

"Nekomata!"

Nekomata stumbled as she landed, sitting as she rubbed her nose

"Y-Yowsers, I thought that was gonna take my nose off!"

"Are those... scissors?" The bangboo asked

Then there was footsteps in the distance

"Who's there?" Anby was ready to fight

She walked backwards to her group, pulling out her sword half way out

The footsteps sounded closer as it stopped

"You are all very skilled. It's no wonder you are able to walk around the building unhindered - but please stop there"

The stranger adjusted his clothing

"A wolf thiren?"

"The Ballet Twins are private property and are currently closed to visitors"

He pulled out a watch form his breast pocket as he opened it

"I will allow you thirty seconds to explain your presence, Before I decided whether or not..."

"Wahh!"

A part of a round chainsaw, moving across from the ground as it landed right in front of Anby and the other who were behind her

The wolf thiren coughed

"In short, this place is not currently open to the public, and I..."

He's ear twitched as noises were heard

"I'm sure I have stressed - both the floors and one's weapon should be kept in pristine condition, have I not?"

A little girl with long green pigtails ran up

"Sorry, Mr. Lycaon, I'm really sorry.."

She grabbed her weapon that was about to fall and then bowed in apology

"Ugh.. So tired"

"Ellen, stay on task... Professionalism!"

"Tch... Coming"

Nekomata noticed something about the girl with the pigtails

"Hm? Corin? Is that you?"

"Huh? Oh, Miss Nekomata! And the investigator!"

"Corin, do you know them?"

"Yes, Mr. Lycaon! They're the nice people who helped me out of the hollow that time!"

"I see... Rina, for now, you may stand down"

"As you wish~"

Anby moved as he got her sword out

"When did you.."

"Hehe, you're quite a perceptive young lady. You almost saw me" The lady hovered away

"She means you were way off!"

"Way off! Way off!" Her bangboo ghosts teased

"If you aren't mere trespasser, that makes things easier"

"Allow me to introduce ourselves - we are Victoria Housekeeping"

Now back to you..

You were keeping an eye out if there is any more of those guards near by, you then heard explosives somewhere in the building, huh strange that wasn't you though

Meh, whatever

You walked around as you placed your shark bombs around the area where the guards are. This was going to be fun

You walked around a corner, everything was set now time to blow this joint but first you need their attention.

"H-Hello?" A little girl's voice were heard, you did this trick a couple of times and it always works, you put a voice recording in their to seem that there was a little girl somewhere.

That definitely got their attention as they dropped the pink haired girl on the floor. "Who's there?" One of the guards was looking around as he mentioned some to look around

As soon as they get close enough..

'BOOM!'

The explosives exploded, smoke was scattered everywhere. Perfect. This was going perfectly just as you imagined

'BOOM!'

A explosive was heard from near by

"W-What was that?" Corin worriedly asked, looking at the others

"I don't know but we must find out" Lycaon said, everyone started to run to the nosie

Feeling heat as they saw smoke and a little bit of fire

"What happened here?" Rina asked as she now was on her feet

"Someone must of used some kind of bomb-" The talking scarf bangboo was shocked, all of them could now hear singing

(Enjoy the music)

youtube

THIS SONG ALWAYS MAKES ME CRY BRO (My poor bbys :'( )

"That.. song.." Lycaon's eyes widen, no it couldn't be.

The smoke was now clearing out, a figure was near an edge that had a deep drop, they were holding someone by the collar, hovering them over the edge, there was also unconscious bodies on the ground

"Who's she?" Rina asked, tilting her head. Ellen spoke "That's Name, she goes by the 'thief of the moonlight' She practically steals for someone as a Job" Ellen explained

"Lycaon.." Corin worriedly ask, "Is something the matter? It seems you know this person"

"Ahem.. Nevermind that we need to do something, you girls get rain, I'll handle her."

The girls nodded as they went separate ways

Lycaon was focused on you, you haven't noticed him yet.

"Geez you're boring huh?" You spoke, hovering the guy over the edge

"No please! I'll do anything, just please don't drop me!" He begged, you smirked

"I'll ask you again, do you know anymore people in this building?" You asked, it seemed that earlier you heard something when you arrived

"No, I swear!" The guy screamed

"Tch, Liar.." You sneered, you then pushed him as he fell, "Too bad.."

You then turned around and froze, someone.. was behind you, you pulled out your gun that you had that was hanging from your leg belt then pointed it at the wolf thiren

'He looks familiar..' You thought, he looked like someone you knew

"Lycaon! We got the girl!" Some shark girl yelled, you knew that name..

Your eyes widen, shakily breathing in. Lycaon had his hands up showing that he's not armed

"L-Lycaon.." You nervously spoke, Lycaon's ears flattened as he started to slowly walk towards you, reaching his hand to lower your gun

"I- I thought" You stuttered, Lycaon smiled a little "That I was dead.. Name I'm very sorry that I left, But we are together again" Lycaon spoke softly trying to comfort you

You dropped your gun, you charged at him as you both collapsed on the ground, You were squeezing Lycaon as if he was actually dead

You started to get overwhelmed as your tears spilled out of your eyes, "I can't believe that you're here, you're actually here.." Your words were muffled by his chest

But the moment was ruined, you looked up from over his shoulder as you saw someone, black and red hair. She had a weapon, your eyes glared at her as you broke the hug

You pointed your gun at her, "Who's she?" You asked but never broke eye contact with her

"Lycaon..?" Ellen eyes widen, Lycaon was now nervous

"It's okay name, she's a work friend" Lycaon tried to calm you down, "Vlad wasn't lying.. you're with other people" You asked

"You're friend is Name?" Ellen asked, her red eyes glared as you, her weapon in hand ready to attack

"Ellen, Calm down. We can work this out" Lycaon spoke

"You're playing me aren't you?!" You were now confused and upset, you need to think

"Is this why you came? To talk this out!?" You yelled, you were now angry, you didn't know what was happening but everything was happening all at the same time

"Name, please calm down"

"Is this why you left?! To be with some other people?! And you never told me, you left without saying a word!" You cried out

You had your gun at him, Ellen didn't seem to like that as she started to charge at you, you grumbled as you took out a smoke flare

Smoke was now everywhere, Ellen was left alone without any Lycaon and you weren't seen as well

"Name.. I don't want to fight you" Lycaon was in a fighting stance, "Well It seems like you want to fight, traitor.." You glanced away

You then smirked, you pulled out a bomb as you threw it as him, but it missed as he charged at you with full force, pinning you down o the ground

"Damn it!" You were crying as you felt ashamed

"Come with me, stay with me and the others." Lycaon assumed, You looked like you were thinking about it

"I'm sorry" You muttered as you pulled out a dynamite, pulling the pin, Lycaon noticed as moved out of the way

'BOOM!'

Pink smoke was everywhere, Lycaon was coughing as he was trying to find you in this smoke, he then spotted you

He sighed as you kneeled down, you were hurt and covered in smoke, you were unconscious

"Let's get you home" Lycaon spoke gently as he picked you up, his arm under your knees as the other arm was under your back

"I'm sorry I left you, but it was for a good reason.."

Finally done! You could tell I lost motivation at the last part but meh whatever

-A<3

#zenless zone zero #zzz #zenless zone zero x reader #zenlesszonezero #von lycaon #von lycaon x reader #zzz von lycaon #zzz lycaon

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jklinges2003 · 1 year

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Just a Ghost of a Girl You Once Knew and Loved

A/N: Hey guys I decided to make my first short fanfiction on here. Even though I’ve made a lot of fanfics on Quotev, this is my first time writing one on tumblr, so if I mess up, don’t judge lol! Anyway, I started watching “The Summer I Turned Pretty” with my mom, including watching season 2 this summer and I swear it just leaves me intrigued, makes me laugh, makes feel like I’m actually in it and I wish I really was. And I am so team Jeremiah all the way! So, after I watched 2x06 and 2x07, in episode 6, Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss while at the end of episode 7, they finally kiss, but I can’t find the GIF from episode 6 from when they almost kiss cuz that’s what I want this short fanfic to be about and take place in. And I also might switch POVs.

codes: Y/N = Your name

Y/EC = Your eye color

SUMMARY: So, I imagined what would happen if a girl in the show (Y/N) was best friends with Belly for a long time and had a huge crush on Jeremiah at first, and even Y/N hooked up with Jeremiah in the first season but after him and Conrad’s mom Susannah died and after Y/N has been seeing signs of Jeremiah having feelings for Belly, they broke up before the events of season 2, but Y/N’s feelings for Jeremiah have never faded and as the group reunited in season 2, Y/N has been holding onto hope that something could happen with her and Jeremiah because she’s missed him so much. And even Jeremiah feels the same, but he just wouldn’t admit to her or even to himself since a part of him still has feelings for Belly. And throughout season 2, Y/N has been trying some casual attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention but failed every time. So, one night as the gang throws a party at the beach house to honor Susannah, and while Y/N was hanging out with a couple of friends, she witnesses something that just pushes her to her breaking point, increases her insecurities and her anger/jealousy towards Belly while she’s been trying to keep her friendship with her intact, and Y/N’s heartbroken behavior strikes a chord in Jeremiah and hits him with guilt.

SONG: “Part of Your World (Reprise II)” by Halle Bailey from Disney’s live-action Little Mermaid. I feel like the song matches Y/N’s situation really well, and I love Disney songs, so I wanted to choose this song.

Y/N’s POV:

The party for Susannah has been going great! It’s fun, loud, and it was a beautiful way to honor Susannah. I hoped I’d get closer with Jeremiah this time because out of all the attempts to try and get his attention while he’s been going all lovey-dovey on Belly even though they’re not even dating, I’ve failed. Jeremiah and I had something special last summer, we bonded really well, he brought out the best in me, and there’s nobody like him. He’s irreplaceable. At first I’ve always been a very shy and self-conscious girl, but after bonding with Jeremiah, his childish personality and his sweetness and fun energy is just so contagious that it just makes you wanna have fun and laugh with him. So, he brought out the fun and confidence that I never knew I had in me. And we even felt a strong connection and spark between us. Being with him always made me feel safe, he’s easy to talk to, he’s relatable, his light blue eyes just take my breath away and you can easily see the emotion in them. But, unfortunately, I regret us breaking up in the first place after Susannah died. And I could see it in his eyes that he does, too. Whenever he and I would talk, I could easily see that he feels lost and confused, like he wants to be with me again as if us breaking up was a mistake for him, too, but also another part of him wants to be with Belly since his feelings for her never faded while my feelings for Jeremiah have never faded. And every time he’d be affectionate and sweet towards Belly, my close best friend and who’s like a sister to me, I can’t help but feel nauseous as if seeing the sight of them together just makes me wanna puke, even though they’re not dating, but I respect their close friendship since they grew up together, and I have been trying to be strong and understanding and nice, but inwardly I just feel sick and it’s suffocating me, like I’m tired of bottling it up. And I have no one to talk to about it since I feel like they wouldn’t understand and that they’d think of me as just a sad pathetic ex-girlfriend who can’t get over her ex-boyfriend.

After watching Taylor and Steven’s talented dance moves for the song “Party In The U.S.A.”, I went back to hang out with Nicole and Dara. We laughed and talked for a bit until one of the girls brought up a relationship she’s in, and that immediately made me think of Jeremiah.

Since Jeremiah has always brought out the confidence in me, I have been thinking about it for a while and I have been waiting all summer to tell him my feelings and that I’ve never stopped loving him even though I was scared to since I didn’t wanna stand in the way between him and Belly. But, I realized I’ve got nothing to lose, and that it’s now or never.

I excused myself from the girls and walked into the crowd to look for Jeremiah. I looked and looked and looked. Until I saw something that just hit me in the heart. I saw Jeremiah and Belly sitting together closely, talking and looking at each other that way. I stood and watched worriedly as I glanced at Jeremiah and then Belly. The way they looked at each other was the same way me and Jeremiah looked at each other last summer when we hooked up and fell in love. I felt like I just wanted to run out of the room and throw up. Then, they stopped talking while still looking at each other with smirks, and then they both slowly leaned in, almost about to kiss until a girl yelling “Fight! Fight!” in another room interrupted them and gathered a crowd. Seeing Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss just hit me in my breaking point. I was about to tell Jeremiah how I felt and that I never stopped loving him, but after seeing what I saw…my chance was ruined. I was too late. The hope I had in me all summer was broken and turned into dust. And I felt ignored after all the tried-and-failed attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention, like as if I were a ghost of a girl he once knew and loved. Like as if what we had before was just nothing.

While the fight between Taylor’s ex-boyfriend Milo and Belly’s brother Steven was occurring in the other room, some other kids didn’t bother to watch the fight and just stayed behind, wanting to stay out of it. And also they were also either drunk or high. I’ve never been one to drink or do drugs or smoke or any of that stuff, I’ve made a vow to myself that I’d live life in a clean state of mind. But after witnessing Jeremiah and Belly together, since it hit my breaking point, I was at that stage where I didn’t wanna feel anything anymore.

I walked over to the group of kids in the kitchen, not wanting to talk to them, and instead just opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. Since my emotions were shut off, I let my impulsiveness get the best of me and I started to open the bottle and chug the alcohol drink. I didn’t care that it tasted bad, I was just tired of feeling this way. After finishing half of the bottle already and walking around the party, trying to avoid Jeremiah, I then saw him and Conrad standing outside with Belly stuck in the middle of them and the two brothers were arguing, and I could easily tell that it was about Belly.

Ever since Belly has been hooking up with Jeremiah at first and then Conrad and then having to choose between them, I felt bad for her but I also got irritated at her because every time they would be loving and sweet to her, instead of listening to her heart about who she truly wants to be with, she just kept letting it happen and kept throwing herself at them, playing both brothers. They both don’t deserve that. Especially Jeremiah since after he and I got together, Belly and Conrad got together temporarily, and then since Jeremiah’s been crushing on Belly while he was really in love with me, and he was angry at Belly for hooking up with Conrad since her and Jeremiah kissed before while he and I were together which also caused our relationship to go downhill. The love triangle between Jeremiah, Belly, and Conrad is just stupid and annoying since Belly won’t make a decision about who she truly wants to be with, and now with me in it, it has turned into a love square. And the last thing I wanted was to be involved in a love triangle, let alone a love square. And now I got dragged into it due to my feelings for Jeremiah never leaving me. Could things get any worse?!

I continued drinking the rest of the bottle of beer, trying to numb everything inside me and to just escape from the pain. I started to get a little tipsy and even though it felt wrong, it also felt good since it helped numb the pain. Then while stumbling around the party and then sitting on the floor in a corner of a room, taking a few more swigs of the beer bottle, I started to lose myself into sorrow and despair.

The bottle of beer was then almost done. I was now really drunk. I kept accidentally bumping into people while stumbling and trying to keep myself standing. But, I started to hear Nicole ask me if I was okay since she saw that I wasn’t myself. My facial expression was blank, my eyes looked like as if something inside them had died, my face was tear-stained which caused a bit of mascara to run down my face, and my hair was a little bit untidy. When she asked if I was okay, my vision was blurry, my hearing was distorted and echoey, and my head was spinning and fuzzy. I didn’t respond to Nicole and instead just accidentally lost my balance near another kid who was carrying a glass of a drink, causing that kid to accidentally drop his glass which broke when it fell. And when I fell, the palm of my hand landed on the broken glass which caused my hand to bleed a little, but I didn’t feel the pain since I was numb and drunk.

A tiny crowd of the people gathered around me and started to look at me in concern, worry, and confusion all at once, and that was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t wanna be viewed as someone who was fragile and vulnerable, even though I knew that it was okay to be vulnerable once in a while since everybody has strengths and weaknesses. But, I just didn’t care anymore.

While there was a few people gathered around me, I kept reassuring them that I was okay, but the one person who I definitely didn’t want to check on me was none other than Jeremiah himself, but he checked on me anyway.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?” Jeremiah asked as he kneeled down beside me to try to help me up, but I kept brushing him off and tried to pretend that I wasn’t hurting, both emotionally and physically. Emotionally from witnessing Jeremiah and Belly almost about to kiss, and physically from losing my balance due to my drunken state and falling to the floor and the palm of my hand landing on broken glass. So I even tried to hide my drunken state from Jeremiah since I didn’t want his pity.

“It’s f-f-fine. I’m…fine, Jer.” I tried to reassure, my voice slurring a bit as I tried to help myself up and stand on my own feet without losing my balance again and without Jeremiah seeing my bleeding hand.

But, he was looking at me that way with concern and worry. I finally managed to stand on my own two feet and then walked away from the crowd, stumbling and limping.

Jeremiah’s POV:

Seeing Y/N like this had me worried. I didn’t know what was going on with her, but she seemed pretty drunk and she looked upset for some reason. She shouldn’t be alone. She could get hurt or end up doing something stupid.

I followed her as she stumbled out of the room, but I lost her in the crowd. I looked around for her until something caught my eye. I saw her outside on the patio, walking away from the beach house and just heading down to the beach, still stumbling and limping.

I walked outside to the patio and follow Y/N down to the beach with the dark night sky in the view. She didn’t look like herself. I was really worried.

“Y/N! Y/N, what are you doing?” I asked her in concern as I caught up with her. Her pupils were dilated, her hair was untidy, she could barely walk, and she even had mascara running down her face so she looked like she had been crying. But why?

“Going to the beach. What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked sassily, her voice slurring. She was definitely drunk. I’ve always known her to be a goody-goody girl who would never want to drink, do drugs, or smoke, but she was actually drunk. What changed?

“But, y-you’re drunk. Are you sure you’re okay? And you fell back in there. Are you hurt?” I asked as I stopped her from walking any further towards the water since she’s too intoxicated to go for a swim. When I asked if she was hurt, I looked all over her body for any cuts or bruises or anything, until I spotted her hand bleeding. I took that hand gently and looked at her worriedly. But she immediately yanked her hand away and glared at me for some reason before stumbling to walk further towards the water. I stood in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders, preventing her from doing so.

“Y/N, your hand is bleeding. We need to clean that up and put either some band-aids or gauze on there. Let’s just go back inside, okay?” I said to her calmly, but sternly and worriedly before I put an arm around her shoulders to help her walk back inside the beach house. But she immediately refused and put up a fake smile, and her fake smile looked angry.

“No! No, no, no, no. I’m fine, Jer. You don’t need to help me. Why don’t you go and help Belly instead, hm? I’m sure she’s probably going through a lot after being stuck having to choose between you and your brother. So go ahead, why don’t you go help her and be her shoulder to cry on? I can take care of myself.” Y/N said while slurring before letting out a hiccup at the end of her last sentence. She was being stubborn as hell. And this was also a side of her that I’ve never seen before. Why was she acting this way, especially towards me?

“Y/N, I’m not gonna leave you out here by yourself, especially with your drunken behavior. I’m not gonna let you do something stupid. Like, what were you planning to do out here at the beach? Why were you walking towards the water?” I asked her, trying to be calm and gentle, but I had a bad feeling about Y/N’s intentions that it built worry inside me which caused me to raise my voice a little bit.

“None of your business. What is this, 20 questions or something? Just leave me alone, Jeremiah.” Y/N spat out, still slurring before she walked past me, still stumbling. I watched her about to go into the water, but her legs were shaking as if she could barely stand. I wanted to stop her and go get her, but I wanted to see what she was planning to do first so that I can really know what’s going on. She stopped for a second as the water reached to her knees, then she kept going until it was at her waist and she started to cover her mouth with her hand and then cover her nose with her other hand before she began to dunk her head into the water.

I widened my eyes as it immediately clicked. Y/N was about to kill herself by drowning while drunk! As I finally knew what she was about to do, I immediately took action and rushed into the water, grabbing Y/N by the waist and dragging her out of the water. She started screaming protests at me to let her go, but I couldn’t let her do this. I care about her so much. And…I actually love her, even though a part of me loves Belly. I just don’t know what to do. But after seeing Y/N like this and after us reuniting along with the others, I was actually really glad to see her. She’s a sight for sore eyes. She’s beautiful, she’s kind, caring, warm, honest, sweet, sassy, headstrong, authentic, moral, the voice of reason, and a talented singer with a beautiful voice. She’s even a better singer than I am. I did like her when she was a shy and introverted girl, though, I thought she looked adorable whenever she’d blush. But after we bonded last summer and fell in love, I started to see a more confident and silly side of her and I couldn’t help but love her even more. I miss what Y/N and I had together, even though I love Belly, too, but it’s not really the same with Belly actually. Y/N’s the one I feel something strong and loving for. She’s even tried to be there for me after my mom died, but I was too blind in my own grief and in my own conflicted feelings for Belly to even see it. How could I have been so blind?

Seeing Y/N acting like this was just heartbreaking and shocking to me. I was even more worried about her, especially since she just tried to kill herself by drowning in the ocean while completely drunk.

As I dragged her back to the sand while she was screaming protests at me, I ignored the protests and looked at her in shock, anger, heartbreak, and worry all at once.

“Y/N, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Why are you trying to kill yourself?” I asked her sternly as I held back tears in my eyes since I was trying to be strong for her.

“Why did you just help me?! I told you to go be with Belly!” Y/N snapped while slurring as tears filled her eyes. Why is she bringing up Belly while I’m focusing on Y/N and her safety?

“Y/N, this isn’t about Belly, this is about you. You’re drunk, you look like you’ve been crying, you’re acting like a different person, and you tried to kill yourself! Why are you acting like this, Y/N? Did something happen? Talk to me.” I said to her sternly, but calmly as I tried to keep myself together.

“No, if you wanna go be with Belly, be with her! She’s all yours! I won’t stand in the way! So, just leave me alone!” Y/N snapped as a tear rolls down her cheek, her voice still slurring. Why is she talking about Belly like this? She’s Y/N’s best friend and they’ve always been like sisters. This wasn’t the Y/N I knew and loved.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? What do you mean you won’t stand in the way and that Belly’s all mine? Where’s all this coming from?” I asked her in concern, hoping to get her to talk. But, she immediately exploded the truth about the cause of her problem while slurring.

“I SAW! I saw everything! I saw you and Belly almost kiss back in there before the fight between Milo and Steven broke out!” Y/N shouted through her slurs and through her tears. She even had her eyes either looking down or her eyes closed as if she could barely look at me.

When she admitted that to me, I started to remember when me and Belly talked back in the house during the party, and we talked about the flings I had from last summer and through the whole year after me and Y/N broke up and when Belly got together with Conrad. Then I remembered telling Belly that she’s a better kisser than out of all the girls and guys I’ve kissed, including Y/N. I can’t believe I actually said that because Y/N was a good kisser, too. She really was. And I even remembered during this whole summer when me and her and the rest of the gang were hanging out and Y/N tried some attempts to get my attention since she must’ve had hope for us and I didn’t even realize it. I’ve been ignoring Y/N all summer and I didn’t realize it till now. How could I have been so stupid?!

I felt such a pang of guilt and regret for how I’ve been treating Y/N. I’ve treated her as if she weren’t around and as if she were second and I’ve been putting Belly first. I realized Belly’s not the only one stuck in the middle of a love triangle and between me and my brother, I was even stuck between two girls who matter so much to me. With Belly, it was real and I really loved her, at first it was like a brother and sister relationship, but…ever since I saw her last summer, I was done for. She took my heart with her. But then, at that time, Belly brought Y/N to Cousins for the first time and introduced her as her best friend, and Y/N just took my breath away. I know that I started to feel something for Belly, but when I met Y/N, I knew there was something special about her that was just so magnetic to me. I wanted to know her. And what we had was real and strong, too. And I realized now that it was stronger than what me and Belly had because even if Belly liked me back a bit, it was always gonna be Conrad for her, even if she wouldn’t admit it. It finally hit me.

Y/N’s the one for me.

I looked at her with guilt, regret, and sympathy as I realized what I put her through and what she had to witness tonight. I put a hand on her arm, trying to be as comforting as possible.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I-I-I didn’t realize that you…” I was just at a loss for words as I still kept trying to process this.

“That I what?! Huh? That my feelings for you still haven’t faded and that I never stopped loving you?! I’ve tried to get your attention all summer and tried to get you to realize that I’m still here, but you just kept pining for Belly and acting all affectionate to her while you ignored me and acted as if I wasn’t the room, like as if what we had together has been forgotten! And you and her aren’t even dating, yet you act like you are, even though you two are best friends, but why can’t you just admit it to yourself that…that you still love me, too? I’ve seen it in your eyes, they can easily tell what you’re feeling. And when you were around me this summer, I had hope for us! But you just won’t open your eyes and realize what’s right in front of you! I was about to tell you how I felt, and yet I catch you and Belly about to kiss! I just…I just couldn’t bear the sight of that, so I’m actually glad the fight between Milo and Steven broke out and interrupted you and Belly. I know that’s rude to say, but I just can’t pretend that I’m okay anymore! All this time ever since everything that’s happened, I haven’t been okay! And neither have you, and I’ve tried to be there for you and reconnect with you at least, but…you didn’t want anything to do with me and the only person you’d talk to was Belly! I’ve gone through enough hell. And so has Belly, so I’m just gonna go…have a little ‘chat’ with her.” Y/N explained everything to me through her tears and her drunken slurs about the hell she’s been going through ever since me and her broke up and ever since my mom died.

And as she said everything, it was all true and I didn’t even realize it all till now. And what she said struck a chord in me. I’ve been leaving her all alone and I shouldn’t have done that. Well, not anymore. I’m not gonna leave her alone anymore, no matter how much she stubbornly tells me off. I’m gonna make up for my mistakes. Then, as Y/N says the last part, she stumbles as she stands up on her feet, holding her fingers up like quotes. I knew she wasn’t just gonna have chat with Belly, she was gonna confront her. I couldn’t have her do that. Her friendship with Belly has always been so important to her so I couldn’t let her be the one to destroy it by having a confrontation and argument with Belly.

“Y/N, no. Just…Just come back to the house, I’ll let you stay with me, okay?” I offered kindly as I tried to help her and not let her be by herself in her drunken state and in her painful heartbreak.

“No! I don’t need saving, Jer. I’m not some piece of glass who’ll end up breaking. I’m fine. Just let me go.” Y/N protested as she tried to walk away from me and walk back to the house. I wanted to stay with her, but I had to respect her decision if she could handle it. I watched in concern from behind as Y/N kept stumbling up the small wooden board steps that would lead up to the patio of the beach house, her legs started to shake again as if she could barely stand and walk.

She then took another step until she tripped and fell down to her knees, making me immediately rush up to her side and try to help her up and help her walk.

“Y/N, let me help you.” I offered while trying to help her stand, but she pushed me away and kept protesting.

“No! Just leave me alone, Jer! If you don’t walk away right now, I’m gonna have to beat the shit out of you!” Y/N threatened drunkenly while she was holding back tears again and trying to stand up on her own.

“Oh, yeah? Let me see you try. I’m not gonna leave you, no matter how many times you push me away. I’ve pushed you away already, I’m not doing it this time.” I responded with sternness and determination in my voice.

As I challenged her to see her try if she can fight me off and push me away, I knew she didn’t have the guts to do it since I knew she still had love in her heart for me. She sat on her knees while I was kneeling next to her, and she turned around and tried slapping my chest and shoving me away, but her pushes weren’t strong enough. She kept trying and trying through her frustrated grunts as if I were her punching bag, but I didn’t let it affect me. She needed to take it out on anything or anyone. And since she was mad at me, I already took responsibility for how I treated her, so I felt like I deserved to be slapped and pushed since I was actually such an asshole.

Then after a few failed shoves and slight slaps from her, she started to get frustrated and feel defeated since I wasn’t going anywhere. Her shoves and slaps started to weaken and she immediately began to finally let out her tears even more. She broke down sobbing as her attempts to push me away and slap me were weakening and slowing down, and she started to lean her head and body against me while sobbing in defeat, frustration, and heartbreak. I wrapped my arms around her securely and protectively, holding her close to me and never wanting to let go of her.

“Shhh…it’s okay, it’s okay, Y/N. You’re okay, you’re okay, I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? Shh…” I whispered softly while holding her tightly but gently, trying to comfort her. She still kept crying in my arms, one of my hands rubbing her back and my other hand caressing the back of her head and her hair. I held back tears as the sound of her cries just broke my heart.

“Y-You left me, Jer…! Why are you still here? Why aren’t you leaving me now? You…You love Belly…!” Y/N said through her drunken sobs as if she was expecting me to just walk away from her after I’ve been ignoring her all summer that she was used to being walked away and abandoned. My heart was just absolutely breaking for her even more. She didn’t deserve this at all. How could I do this to her?

“Because…Because I…I-I-I still—” I was about to respond to her that it was because I still loved her, but before I could finish, I felt her body go limp and she was breathing normally and peacefully, her eyes were closed while her face was tear-stained, and she still had mascara running down her face. She was passed out drunk in my arms.

I sighed guiltily and shamefully, and yet in relief that she was finally out cold so that she wouldn’t do anything stupid while drunk. Then, I put a hand under her legs while I put another hand under her back, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style.

I walked back in the beach house while carrying a passed out asleep Y/N through the party in the house, hoping everyone wouldn’t gossip or be concerned about it since I was already taking care of it. And also some of the kids were drunk anyway, so I’m sure some of the other kids didn’t care.

Then, I carried Y/N to my empty bedroom which only had my sleeping bag since me and Conrad’s bitchy aunt Julia removed everything from the house since she was selling it. And I hated that the beach house was being sold. It held too much memories of me and Conrad’s mom. But now that all the furniture is gone, it’s like memories of our mom are gone, too.

I gently laid Y/N on another sleeping bag that I had laying next to mine and I tucked her in, making sure she was comfortable. Then, I stood up and looked at her sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful and beautiful, despite that she was a drunken mess tonight and despite the mascara running down her face, she still looked beautiful to me. Then, I started to hear a girl crying coming from the bedroom next to mine. I leaned against the wall and heard Belly drunkenly crying in her bedroom. She was trying to call her mom, Laurel, for help since she had nowhere else to turn to about the situation with her having to choose between me and Conrad which is causing tension between me and my brother and also she told Laurel about trying to get the house back while everything she’s trying to do to help just keeps going wrong and she needed help. Her cries even broke my heart. A part of me wanted to go in there and hold her. I couldn’t bear to have my best friend upset like this. But, after what Y/N has been through not just tonight but throughout the whole year?

I thought about it for a moment again and I looked over at a sleeping Y/N, and I told myself again that I’m never gonna abandon her again. I’ve been focusing on Belly and putting her first all summer that I’ve been ignoring Y/N, so it’s time to make up for my mistakes and put Y/N first this time.

I slowly walked over to her and laid down in my sleeping bag right next to the sleeping bag that Y/N is sleeping in. I stared at her sleeping face again and after what happened tonight, I can’t get it out of my head. I could’ve lost Y/N tonight and it was my fault. As I looked at her with remorse, guilt, care, and sympathy, it felt as if a magnet was pulling me. I sat up and leaned forward and down, planting a gentle loving kiss on Y/N’s cheek before laying back down, getting ready to go to sleep.

Y/N’s POV:

As I was passed out asleep from being drunk tonight, I had no idea where I was at the moment. But, I opened my eyes very slightly in which my vision was very blurry and the room was dark since it was nighttime and my hearing was ringing and echoey as the party was going on downstairs. All I could see was someone’s sleeping face in front of mine, but I couldn’t tell who it was. Instead, my eyes just closed again as my eyelids just felt too heavy to be open and my head was pounding.

The next morning, I started to feel like crap. I opened my eyes slightly as the ringing in my ears started and then finally faded away. My head was pounding, I felt a bit nauseous, makeup was running down my face, and my hair was untidy. I looked around the room and wondered how I got here. I also noticed a gauze wrapped around one of my hands. I couldn’t even remember a thing about what happened last night. I could only remember that I was dancing and hanging out with a couple of girlfriends, and then I was crying for some reason, and that I took a walk on the beach. But the rest was all just a blur.

As I slowly sat up, I immediately heard a familiar voice next to me.

“Morning, Y/N.” Jeremiah said to me sleepily but with a concerned and sympathetic look on his face. I looked over at him and seeing him lay there next to me startled me and left me in surprise. What was he doing here laying next to me while he ignored me all summer? What the hell happened?

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as my head was still pounding a bit.

“Jeremiah? Wh-What are you doing here? What am I doing in…in your empty bedroom? What happened last night?” I asked nervously and in confusion, my voice slightly slurring since I was hungover, and I needed answers.

“You don’t remember?” Jeremiah asked in concern as he sat up, sitting next to me. I tried to think hard and see if I could remember anything about what happened last night, but I couldn’t remember. I looked over at him and shook my head.

Then, the moment was interrupted when me and Jeremiah heard Belly and her mom Laurel arguing in the room next door, their voices muffled until we heard Belly’s bedroom door open and close. Jeremiah helped me stand up to my feet before we both walked over to the door and opened it, only to see a crying Belly walking past us and past Conrad in the hallway. She looked behind her and glanced at us before continuing to walk away and walk downstairs. I wondered why she was upset. But whatever it was, I was concerned and felt bad for her.

Then Conrad looked over at us and glanced at me before looking at his brother as if he were encouraging him or something. Jeremiah nodded softly at him before taking my hand, closing the door behind us as we’re still in his empty bedroom. He sat us on the sleeping bags as I looked at him in confusion and in concern. He looked like he wanted to tell me something.

“Y/N…are you sure you don’t remember anything about last night?” Jeremiah asked me in concern in which I shook my head slightly before responding.

“All I remember is dancing and laughing while hanging out with a couple of girlfriends and then…I was crying for some reason, and then I took a walk on the beach. And the rest is all just a blur. And now for some reason I ended up here. What happened, Jer?” I explained all I could remember before asking him in concern about what else happened last night.

He took a deep breath while trying to find the right words to explain to me about what else happened last night. He looked as if he didn’t wanna bring up what happened last night since it would bring back the pain and heartbreak.

“Well, um…you, uh…you were pretty drunk. And…you were at the beach to go in the water to…to commit suicide, but I stopped you and asked you what was wrong, and you…admitted that you, um…saw me and Belly…almost kiss. And…you also explained to me the hell you’ve been going through ever since our breakup a few months ago and ever since my mom’s death. And…also that I’ve been ignoring you all the summer since I’ve been focusing a lot on Belly and I was too blind to see that…that you were still in my life and…” Jeremiah explained everything to me before he trailed off and paused as he could barely finish the sentence. His eyes were tearing up as he felt huge remorse and guilt for what he put me through and he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, very sorry about how I’ve treated you like as if you weren’t in the room. I’m so sorry I ignored you and didn’t put you first and didn’t realize what you were going through. That’s a mistake I won’t make again. I feel like I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but…I realized that…that I also never stopped loving you.” Jeremiah apologized sincerely as a tear rolled down his cheek. As he explained everything, I started to remember a little bit even though it was still a blur. I felt embarrassed that I vented to him about how I’ve been feeling the night before and I didn’t wanna drag him into my problems. But when he said that he also never stopped loving me, I widened my eyes and looked at him in surprise.

“I…Oh my God, I feel so embarrassed for my behavior. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I dragged you into my problems. But…But what about Belly? You love her, don’t you?” I asked, unsure if he was just playing me if a part of him is gonna feel something for Belly and I didn’t want him to choose between me and her. But I was unaware that he already made a decision.

“Yeah, about that, I thought I felt something for her since…last summer when I saw her new glow up and when she first brought you to Cousins for the first time…I thought I was done for. Like, I really felt something for her, but…when I met you and bonded with you and also she’s always gonna love Conrad, even if she won’t admit it to herself…I realized I was lying to myself. I thought I liked her, but…Belly’s not like you, Y/N. You’re irreplaceable. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t see that sooner. Ending things between us was a mistake. I miss what you and I had just as much as you do. And…I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but I—” Jeremiah said honestly to me as he took my hand. But, I was actually proud of him for finally making his decision. And I just hoped that Belly would soon decide who she truly wants, too, and I hoped it would be Conrad she’d choose because they were actually good together, even though they were opposites.

So, as Jeremiah kept talking, I immediately cut off him off by quickly leaning in and kissing him on the lips, taking him by surprise until he kissed me back. Our kiss was passionate, loving, and tender. His lips just felt so soft and smooth and he was a very good kisser. Then, we pulled away as we gazed in each other’s eyes, his bright blue eyes staring into my Y/EC.

“So…does…does that mean you…forgive me?” Jeremiah asked while he was still in shock from me making the first move and kissing him.

“Of course I forgive you, you lovable doofus.” I responded while smirking and tousling Jeremiah’s golden curls, messing his hair up and making him laugh.

“Hey!” Jeremiah whined playfully through his laughter before flipping his short golden curly hair, making it still look the same as it did before. I giggled before he smirked and tickled me on my waist as revenge from when I untidied his hair.

I squealed and laughed and squirmed around as he tickled me. Then I waved my hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay! I give! I surrender!” I protested through my laughter before Jeremiah stopped tickling me and smirked. Then he leaned down as I was laying down on my back on the sleeping bag and we giggled again before we shared another tender, loving kiss.

I felt my heart beating out of my chest. I was so ecstatic and relieved that I was actually back together with Jeremiah! I felt as if the darkness inside me has been taken away and then the light has risen inside me again.

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velvet-vox · 6 months

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"Doll had no character arc"

"Her death was meaningless"

"We know nothing about her"

That is false.

This is a response to a post of user @rad10active-ketchup regarding (spoiler) Doll's death in the new episode of Murder drones, in particular to these replies:

These points are most likely rooted in the belief that Doll's death was handled poorly from a writing standpoint, and while I consider it a fair interpretation to have given that writing something to be intentionally disappointing will always feel unpleasant to a consumer, I believe that the reasons found to justify said feeling in the replies are disingenuous and flat out wrong, and I am going to debunk each and every single one of them independently.

Starting off with:

The character development

Doll has for the most part a flat character arc in all the scenes that she appears in, but that doesn't mean that she had no development at any point; first of all, there's most obviously her villain arc, caused by the death of her parents, the solver, the loneliness and lack of mentor figures and general mental illness, during the prom scene, she has reached peak villainy in the series, only saving Lizzie's life because she has mentally assessed the people to care about and the others and even when shot in the head she doubles down on her tendencies and keeps being a menace, but that's where she discovers that Uzi also has the solver and for the first time in ever she has someone who shares her pain but is on the "enemy" side. This starts a continuous chain of doubt in her mind that she overcomes only at the end of episode 6 when she completes her negative character arc by sacrificing Uzi for the cure in the raptor trap, spelling out her doom in the next episode where in her last moments she does her first and only step of a positive character arc by inciting her to fight back the solver with all her forces. Doll is given many chances to switch to the other side and stop being a villain, but she refuses every single one and her reality check only comes on her death bed when it's already too late.

The impact of her death

First of all Rebecca "died" in front of 4 other people while Doll dies only in front of Uzi, who outside of her genuine shock later swears to fake Tessa that it wasn't her doing but someone else, all while pretty terrified herself. Nori and N also come there, but they are too busy with everything else going on to notice, also, neither of them ever cared about Doll. And Cyn... come on.

What do we know about her

First of all, she is quite literally "Uzi if things got even worse" most of her traits are darker reflections of Uzi or an improved version of Uzi's skills, including her aura of mystery, there to be the cool factor that Uzi tries so hard to achieve but fails. She also has the same goal as Uzi, but without the hero complex part whose substitute by her belief of being the chosen one by the solver and fated to bring about the end of the world. She's sadistic, delusional, traumatized, stubborn, russian and a pathetic wet cat of a person whose inability to change denied her the answers that she so desperately craved.

Want more?

#murder drones doll #murder drones ep 7 #murder drones spoilers #murder drones n #murder drones rebecca #murder drones uzi #murder drones cyn #murder drones tessa #murder drones nori #murder drones lizzy #murder drones #murder drones analysis

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angstywaifu · 8 months

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The Lost Sister - Part 6

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: I couldn't resist posting this so close to the other part. I'd say I'm sorry for the slight cliff hanger.... But I'm not. Also I've started writing some of the stuff around threshing, what do you guys think Ophelia's signet should be? What dragon will she have? Also what should we make Garrick's signet? I've seen a few theories on his being pain due to his dragons name, and honestly kinda leaning towards it. As per usual if you want to be on the tag list let me know! And if you guys have any prompts or ideas for small little one off stories/one shots, please pop them in my asks! Would love to give some other ideas a go. Probably leaning more towards our rebellion boys (Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi and Liam), but happy to give some others a go.

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Garrick leans against the wall at the end of the bed, his hazel eyes watching me like a hawk. He hadn’t take his eyes off me since scooping me off the floor. I’m a little disappointed he managed to put a shirt on before bringing me here. I could have used the view while the healer works at cleaning the blood off my face and mending my nose. Every time I flinch or wince as the healer works, I swear I see Garrick’s hand twitch as if wanting to reach out and stop her. The healer walks away to get me some healing balm to take with me to help the last of my nose heal and to help with any bruising that may decide to show up. As she rounds the corner, Garrick pushes off the wall and pulls up a chair next to my bed. He reaches up and tilts my head towards him with his right hand. His eyes assessing my face and the work the healer has done. When he’s satisfied I’ve been healed adequately his eyes meet mine. His hand still lingering on my face.

”You two really did a number on each other.” He says with a chuckle.

”You finally going to tell me what the hell is up with you and Imogen.” I say more aggressively that I intend.

Garrick flinches at my words and his moves his hand from my cheek to his lap as he looks down and starts to fidget with this hands. Some of his dark curls falling in front of his eyes. Definitely not the response he was expecting from me.

“I promise you there is nothing going on-”

”Bullshit.” I spit out cutting him off mid sentence.

He looks up at me shocked and almost scared. Something I can safely say I’ve never seen from Garrick towards me. Granted I don’t think I’ve used that kind of tone towards him before in the entire time I’ve known Garrick, which is pretty much my entire life. He hangs his head and goes back to fidgeting with his hands, the chair creaking under his weight as he moves around. Clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“For me there’s nothing going on with her. We hooked up a few times, but that was it.” He admits, his shoulders sagging with the confession before looking back up at me with sad eyes that almost plead forgiveness from me. “But I made it clear I wanted nothing serious. But it is becoming clear those hook ups meant more to her than just something casual.”

”You never struck me as the casual hook up type.” I admit to him.

He slowly nods in agreement before looking away again, intently focused on his hands again. “Honestly I’m not. But there are times while you are here where you just need someone. And the person I needed. The person I wanted more than just a casual hook up with.” His eyes flick up to mine, and I swear my heart stops as if I know what’s coming. “Well I kind of thought they were dead till recently.”

His words come out so quietly I barely hear them. But I do. My heart rate starts to pick up as his words sink in and silence falls around us as we just stare into each others eyes. There is no doubt that Garrick meant me. It’s not like anyone else has come back from the dead recently. Garrick who I spent most of my child hood and teenage years crushing over, has just confessed they feel the same way and all I can do is sit here and stare at him like a deer about to get torched by a dragon. And I’m sure my face probably looks similar to that deer right now. His words start to sink in as he stares at me hopefully. His eyes pleading at me to say something. Say anything back to him. But I can’t. All I can do is stare at him in shock, despite wanting to hear this exact confession from him for years.

At that moment the healer comes back with the healing balm, completely oblivious to the tension in the small closed off area. “Here you go lovely, just apply it to any bruising as it appears.” She says sweetly as she hands it to me.

I tear my gaze from Garrick as I stand and take the healing balm from her, before quickly walking out of the room. I hear the chair Garrick was sitting on scrape against the floor. As soon as I’m out the door I take off. I vaguely hear Garrick call my name as I run back to the riders quadrant.

Part 7

Tag List: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #garrick tavis x reader #the empyrean #garrick tavis #garrick tavis imagine #fourth wing imagine #the fourth wing

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homeofthelonelywriter · 5 months

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Drawn to you | Pt. 8

(A/N) Writing this was fun, but I've never cried so much while writing fanfiction.

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: sick!Reader, cancer, major character death, Reader finds out the truth

Synopsis: He remembers you. Finally.

“I am sorry…you have cancer.”

You didn’t react. After all, you had already suspected it for quite some time. This was just the confirmation. But Alastor…oh your sweet Alastor. You glanced at him and watched all color drain from his face.

You squeezed his hand and tried to smile at him reassuringly.

“Is…how bad is it?”

The doctor glanced at the man by your side before he looked at you again, and you immediately knew the answer.

“It’s stage four. I’m honestly surprised you are still as lively as you are.”

Alastor looked up, panic clear on his face. He couldn’t lose you. Not you.

“What about treatments? There has to be something we can do, there-.”

You gently pulled at his hand, grabbing his attention. With a soft smile, you turned back to the doctor and asked for a moment alone with Al. The doctor of course agreed and left the room, giving you two some space.

“Al…”

As he looked at you, you watched tears gather in his eyes. Not you. Anything but not you. He fell to his knees in front of your chair as you pulled him into a tight embrace, resting his head against your chest. You tried your best to soothe him as the tears spilled from his eyes. It took a few minutes for him to calm down enough to talk.

“I can’t lose you.”

You smiled at him, swiping some of his hair out of his face.

“No matter what happens Al, I’ll always be with you. Watching over you. You’ll never truly lose me, okay? Let’s just make the best of what time is left.”

After a moment, he nodded but still stayed on his knees in front of you until the doctor knocked on the door. You spent the rest of the day at the clinic, Alastor calling in sick, as the doctor explained what would be done. He offered treatment, but you knew that you were too far gone and declined. But you accepted some medicine that would help on bad days. At the end of the day, you left hand in hand with Alastor, who insisted on taking you back to his apartment for the night.

You soon had to quit your job and stay home most of the day. But Alastor fulfilled every promise he had ever made to you. He bought a big house with a pretty backyard and he took the time to plant your favorite flowers. He built the swing where you’d spend most of your time, wrapped up in blankets, no matter how warm it was. And after a few weeks, he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Of course, you said yes, not having the heart to tell Alastor that you’d never make it to your wedding day. You knew that your days were almost up, so you asked Alastor to take a week off, saying that you wanted to do some wedding planning.

But on the last day of his week off, the two of you were sitting on your swing, you in his arms. And you knew it was time. You glanced up at your lover and could see in his eyes that he knew as well.

“I love you Al. Always will. Don’t…don’t forget me, okay?”

He smiled, tears in his eyes.

“How could I ever forget you? I love you so much my darling. Go rest, you deserved it.”

You passed away in his arms that night. It was peaceful and quiet and even after you had died, Alastor continued to hold your body while crying, swearing that he’d never forget you.

Heaven - right after

The next thing you remembered was feeling like you did before you had gotten sick. You felt healthy, cheerful, and energetic. You turned to look around and found a person standing, waiting for you.

“Welcome to heaven, dear.”

Heaven? You never thought that it was real, but now that you had actually died, you felt a sort of relief wash over you. With steady feet, you walked up to the person, a blonde, young man with wings.

“I’m Saint Peter, and I can see that you’re on my list, so walk right in.”

He smiled and gestured towards the large gate that slowly swung open. You were about to step towards it, but you had something you wanted to ask him.

“Do…do you know when everyone dies?”

Saint Peter nodded.

“My…my fiance…when will he…will he live a long life?”

The man quickly checked his list but came up empty. Instead, he grabbed the file that was lying on his desk and flipped through it.

“Oh, you mean Alastor?”

You nodded, relief washing through you that he had found him. That must mean that he’d go to heaven as well.

“I’m sorry dear, but he won’t live much longer. And when he does die, he will go to hell.”

Hell? That can’t be right. The sweet man who had changed his entire life to take care of you. The man you had loved since the moment you met him.

“You-You must be mistaken.”

“I’m not I’m afraid. Serial killers don’t usually get into heaven, you know? Not that you knew about any of that, if you had you wouldn’t have ended up here.”

He smiled as if he had just told you that the next few days would be sunny, while you couldn’t believe your ears. Alastor couldn’t have-, he wouldn’t-, he…and suddenly everything you had ever wondered about made sense. The fact that he always seemed annoyed when he had to warn the public about the serial killer. The stains on his clothes. His weird behavior the mornings after a new victim was found and how the attacks practically stopped after your diagnosis.

You took a few steps back, still trying to work through everything. Your love, a serial killer. But where you expected your heart to break and disgust to fill your veins you only seemed to love him more. The first two killings were of men who had only ever mistreated you. He had killed for you, to protect you and make your life easier.

“I want to go to hell.”

Saint Peter looked up, clearly confused.

“If he goes to hell, then so do I.”

The angel in front of you truly tried to talk you out of it, he did. But your mind was made up. And so, he sent you to hell.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts @mo-0-o @xalygatorx @fairyv-ice @nixie189 @cutiebimbo

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #alastor love

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dustydaddyyy · 1 year

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no strings attached | joel miller x fem!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem! reader

summary: you can't deny there's always been something between you and joel miller. The question is, is either of you going to do something about it?

warnings: swearing, unspecified age gap (reader is her late 20s and joel is canon age) canon-typical descriptions of violence, some good old fashioned pining, fluff, mentions of grief/death, implications of sex/smut, no actual smut, joel is disgustingly gentlemanly, no use of y/n

a/n:…………I know this isn't the next chapter of flashpoint guys, I know. But this has been in my drafts forever and I had some inspiration to finish off the final part. and now here it is, so please enjoy!! don't forget to let me know what you thought through reblog/likes/comments/asks, I love to hear all of your thoughts aka pls interact with my work or my motivation to write shrivels and dies inside

You had never been a fan of cold, which was funny, considering it was cold in Jackson almost all year round. Even the summers were mild, but you still found yourself aching for them every time the winter came around, nights getting longer and the days getting shorter.

You're standing on the main square in Jackson, hands clasped around a steaming mug of something as you look up at the building in front of you, but more specifically, the men standing on the makeshift scaffolding, working on the building. In your other hand you're gripping a large thermos, almost too large for your single grip, but you manage to keep it between your fingers.

They'd been working on the outer façade of the building for the past two weeks, after part of it had collapsed after a particularly rough storm.

There's a presence to your left as your eyes sweep over the scaffolding, and you turn your head to look at Maria as she lets loose a sharp whistle.

"Come have some coffee," she shouts at those working, and you chuckle slightly to yourself as they start to come down.

"Like dogs," you say jokingly, taking a sip of your mug, "Man, I need to learn how to whistle like that,"

"Don't say that to their face," Maria warns you jokingly, "There's much too much ego to go around in that group to take that with any kind of grace,"

You let out another chuckle, shaking your head with a laugh as you look away from her and towards the people walking in your direction. It was a relatively small group, maybe 5 or 6 men, and as they approach, you recognize Eugene's smile.

"Finally came out of your cave, eh?" he asks jokingly, and you narrow your eyes at him as you lift the coffee thermos.

"I'm happy to take this home with me," you inform him, and he laughs, before he extends an arm and pulls you sideways against him, almost spilling your drink.

You'd been in Jackson for 3 years now, having arrived at their large wooden gates early one morning in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, severely hypothermic, dehydrated and covered in injuries. You'd been barely conscious, almost collapsing onto the snow but managing long enough to explain your situation to the guard on patrol, who had been Eugene. You'd come from California, more specifically Santa Barbara, where the Rattlers, a group of militaristic slavers, had pillaged your settlement. You'd barely escaped with your life, and it had been a damn near miracle that you'd managed the two-week trek on foot with nothing but a handgun and a limited supply of bullets. Your only advantage had been that you'd had to walk across large parts of Nevada, the state in which you'd grown up and spent the first 9 years of your life before the world went to shit.

Hence the disdain for cold weather.

"She's cute when she gets all frowny, isn't she?" Eugene jokes again, and you roll your eyes, albeit jokingly.

"Let's see how cute I am when I shove my boot up your ass," you half-threaten, and Eugene lets out a booming laugh as the rest of the men arrive where you'd been standing, and he looks down at you.

"Cute and violent. . . " he muses, before turning to the group with a raised eyebrow, "Any takers?"

"I'm not cattle," you say with a scoff, shrugging him off of you with a sideways shove, before straightening out, "Now you better drink this coffee before I spit in it, Eugene,"

"I hear ya," he says with a chuckle, taking the thermos from you as you move your gaze towards the group of men talking.

You know most of them pretty well, and you watch as they huddle, taking cups from Maria. Only the two at the back are standing a little away from the group, talking to each other animatedly under their breath.

The Miller brothers had been an interesting addition to Jackson.

Tommy had been here when you'd gotten there, but only a few months himself, and it had been nice to talk to someone who hadn't been living in the settlement for years, already. You'd been fast friends, Tommy's open personality and kind heart matching with your own personality well. You'd watched him fall in love with Maria, even been the one standing by his side as a witness when they'd gotten married. Tommy was easy; and open book, you could almost always tell what was going in his head.

Joel, however. . . Joel had been an entirely different story. You'd only been in Jackson 2 years when he'd first arrived. It had been strange, watching as Tommy had reconnected, albeit not smoothly, with someone he'd only ever told you about. You'd heard stories of Joel, though not many, and so when he came to Jackson, you found yourself slightly disappointed by him. He'd been the most regular man you'd ever laid eyes on, not some superhuman killing machine, and together with Ellie, they'd felt like two feral cats waiting to be rehomed.

Then they'd gone again, only coming back a few weeks later, and you'd known something wasn't right. Ellie had been muted, almost a ghost of the person she'd been when she'd first arrived, and Joel had been. . . you hadn't quite managed to put your finger on it at first, but after a few weeks observing him, some things had started to make sense. He'd had a wound, on his left side, which had been stitched horribly and gotten infected, and hadn't been healing right. You'd never been much of a healer, but when you'd first arrived in Jackson the sick bay is where you'd originally been assigned, to work under one of the few doctors in Jackson, and so you'd been in charge of dressing the wound and making sure it healed, despite Joel's vociferous protests.

You hadn't taken it personally, ignoring his cold exterior and treating him the same way you had everyone else, until finally, he began to accept your help, and your tentative friendship. Still, you hadn't managed to put your finger on what had happened to Joel and Ellie, and every time you talked to him, it felt as though he was holding back, keeping something from you, from everyone.

It wasn't until you'd brought a pair of Joel's pants, which you'd found stuffed into a bag under his bed, to the laundry, and you'd cleaned the spatters of blood running up the side of Joel's pant leg that you'd figured it out. Well, about half of it, anyway.

You'd been discreet, washing the blood off the clothes quietly and without attracting attention, before bringing them with you one day when you had to change his dressing, and dumping them out in front of him.

"Explain," you'd said, your voice calm and your gaze open, raising an eyebrow.

He'd been angry with you at first, eyes widening in shock at the idea that you'd been snooping around in his house, but you had paid him no heed and sat patiently in the chair until his anger subsided and he was ready to talk.

You hadn't judged him as he'd spoken, and when Joel had told you everything, all the way from Ellie's immunity down to what had gone down in Salt Lake City, you'd sat in silence for a second, processing, before you'd nodded and moved onto treating his wound.

You hadn't talked about it past that, but Joel's attitude towards you had changed that day; he'd been expecting you to yell and scream at him, to be horrified at what he'd done and the fact that he'd probably doomed all of humanity to hell in one split-second decision, but you hadn't.

"I understand," you'd told him, as you cleaned his wound, "We all do horrible things in the name of love,"

In that moment, in the face of his horrible confession, you were calm, collected and accepting, and it was the first time Joel had felt comfortable around someone in Jackson that hadn't been Ellie or Tommy.

What Joel doesn't know, is that the minute you came home, you had hurled the contents of your stomach into your sink.

You didn't know what you'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that.

Maybe it had been a combination of the cold-blooded violence you knew he'd committed, and the idea of a cure so close within the world's grasp, but it had been such a deeply visceral reaction you were shocked you had managed to keep your face so impassive for the time it took for you to finish treating him.

Then again, you did understand. Joel Miller was not the only one who had committed atrocities for the people he loved; god knows your own hands were far from clean in that regard.

"Hey. . . you still with us?" comes a voice through your thoughts, and you shake yourself out of your mind, eyes moving up to look straight into Joel's.

It had been almost a year since his first admission, and since then, despite your initial reaction, you had found yourself getting closer to Joel. You didn't talk about it, and nothing had ever happened between the two of you, but it didn't take a genius to know something was there. Not acting on it had been a conscious choice from your side, and Joel had just never initiated anything either, which you supposed was in character for him.

"Yeah," you say, blinking a few times as you clear your throat and give him a weak smile, "Just zoned out a little,"

"You look tired," he offers, his eyebrows knitting into a slight frown, "You sleeping okay?"

"Gee, thanks," you let out in a scoff, and he gives you a look as you cover your exhaustion with a chuckle, "I'm sleeping fine, but it's good to know I apparently don't look that way,"

Joel lets out a breath through his nose at your tone, rolling his eyes slightly at your joke. "You ain't funny,"

The truth? Joel was right, you hadn't been sleeping.

You'd always suffered from night terrors as a child, sometimes waking up in all hours of the night screaming and crying and inconsolable for long period of time until your parents would wake you up and snap you out of it. You'd grown out of them, though, or so you thought.

They'd started up again a few months ago, ranging anywhere from waking up in the middle of the night in your bed with tears running down your face, to bouts of stomach-churning sleep paralysis that would leave you so shaken you wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

"Miller!" comes Eugene's voice from your left, "You want some coffee, or do you get your kicks out of chatting up younger women?"

"He's doing it a right sight better than you ever did," you fire back, almost immediately, "So you really shouldn't be saying shit,"

The men around Eugene burst into raucous laughter, and you watch as the corners of Joel's mouth turn up into the hint of a smile as his gaze moves down to his feet for a second, before he clears his throat and looks back up at you.

"Nice," he comments, and you give him a smirk, raising a confident eyebrow and bowing your head.

"Why thank you," you say jokingly, your chest blooming with the compliment, and he shakes his head slightly with a chuckle, before stepping away from you for a second to get some coffee. You watch him go, eyes following him as he pours himself a mug, eyes running over the expanse of his large hands–

You hadn't even noticed Maria coming to stand next to you until she'd cleared her throat, forcing you to look away from Joel hastily and to her. She's giving you a look, raising a single eyebrow as her eyes move between you and him.

"Not a word," you tell her, and purses her lips with a smile, shaking her head.

"Wasn't going to say anything," she muses, and you roll your eyes, before taking a deep breath.

"I think I'm gonna go,"

"Already?" comes Tommy's voice as he steps towards the both of you with a steaming cup in his hand, "You just got here,"

"I did what I came to do," you tell him, before raising a brow, "I ain't got all day,"

Maria's nose crinkles. "Ain't?" she repeats, before raising her eyebrows at you, "Some of that Texan charm rubbing off on you, kiddo?"

"I resent that nickname," you inform her, actively avoiding answering her question, your underlying tone humorous, "As if we aren't only a decade apart,"

"Hmm," Maria hums sarcastically into her cup, "That's a generous definition of decade,"

"You not sleeping well, kiddo? You look tired," Tommy asks, brow creased in concern as he looks at you, and you let out a groan, hands coming up slightly in exasperation.

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, just as Joel steps back towards your group, his ears picking up the tail end of your sentence, "What is it with you Millers? You really tell it like it is, don't you?"

"You look radiant," Maria supplies, and you give her a false, sweet smile.

"Oh, thank you," you half-mutter, before shaking your head with a smile, "But I'm wrecked. . . I worked the double shift for Seth last night and again tomorrow night, so I need to just take a day and sleep,"

"That's fair enough," Tommy says with a grimace, before he gives your shoulder a pet, "Sweet dreams,"

"Thanks," you breathe through a laugh, before you look at Joel with a small smile, "I'll see you later,"

He gives you one of those rare smiles of his own, and it makes his features only more handsome, "See you later,"

Your gaze tears away from him to nod at Maria, who gives you a strangely knowing smile which you ignore, turning on your heel and trudging back through the snow.

Joel had never meant to be standing on your doorstep later that day. Yet, here he was, fingers twitching nervously at his side as he knocks on your door.

He's not even sure you're awake, but it's evening now, the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon and darkening the sky, so he guesses you might be. He's holding a plastic bag of groceries; it's nothing much, just some fruit and vegetables and some sausages he'd managed to trade for yesterday because Ellie loved them so much. But Ellie hadn't been in when Joel had got home that afternoon, leaving a note that she was spending the evening with a friend, but would be home for the night. He'd sat in his living room for a few hours, reading and trying to occupy himself, before deciding he didn't want to eat alone, and packing a few things from the fridge into a bag.

And now, here he was.

At your door.

After almost an entire minute of silence, Joel thinks to himself that you're probably still passed out somewhere, and just as he's about to turn and leave, the door flies inward.

The first thing Joel notices is your eyes. They're wet, as if you'd been crying, but somehow still filled with a groggy sleep at the same time. Your chest is moving quickly as your eyes focus on him standing on your doorstep, and some of the concern in your features melts.

"Joel," you let out his name, and your voice small, and tired, before you clear your throat, "Hi,"

"Are you okay?" he asks almost immediately, frowning slightly at your appearance, and he sounds alarmed, "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," she reassures him, shaking your head slightly, "I was just having a nightmare. . . I'm kind of glad your loud ass knocking woke me,"

You say that last part with a weak chuckle, voice lightening slightly as you try for a smile, "What can I do for you?"

Shit, Joel thinks to himself, and he finds himself rooted to the spot.

"I uh–" he clears his throat, "Ellie isn't in tonight, and, well. . . no one's seen you all day, so I assumed you didn't have any dinner plans,"

"You're not wrong. . . if I have my way it's going to be some stale crackers and cheese," you comment with a grimace.

"Not very nutritious," Joel hums, and you chuckle, nodding, "I'm no chef but I can definitely do better than crackers and cheese,"

Another beat of silence passes, before your eyes go slightly wide and you open the door further. "Sorry, sorry. . . forgot this was the part where I invite you in, I'm still half-asleep. . . come on in, please,"

Joel doesn't need to be asked twice, following you through over threshold of your front door as you disappear down the hall and into the kitchen, back of your hand coming up to wipe your eyes.

Joel isn't often in your house; it isn't entirely your own, and he'd heard from Tommy when he'd first gotten here that houses in Jackson were often shared to maximize space. He'd met your housemate, Bonnie, only a handful of times, including most of that handful when he'd fixed the wobbly bannister of your staircase a few months ago.

The house looks different since the last time he's been, and he can't help but notice new paintings hanging on your wall. They're strange, a haphazard mix of colored strokes with no particular pattern or purpose, but they're nice nevertheless.

"Where'd you get those?"

"You want the honest answer?" you ask, as you step out of the kitchen and watch him looking, and Joel frowns jokingly as he looks at you, waiting for you to go on, "Bonnie and I got high last month and painted them,"

Joel's eyebrows fly up his forehead. "You what?"

Your smile becomes bashful as you purse your lips, Joel's inquisitive look making you squirm slightly.

"Yeah. . . " you say, clearing your throat with another bashful smile, before you try to shrug it off, "Eugene has–. . . anyways, it doesn't matter,"

You disappear back into the kitchen, and Joel looks back at the paintings, considering the new bit of context you'd supplied him with.

"You want a drink?" you half-holler, and you hear Joel's footsteps enter the kitchen as you reach into one of the cabinets, "I have tea or. . . gin, honestly. I know you're more of a whiskey man, but Bonnie makes it in the basement, and it isn't even half-bad,"

"You make gin in your basement?" Joel asks, and again you hear the same surprise in his voice as earlier, "Do you also run an undercover gambling ring, or. . . ?"

"Oh yeah," you respond, playing along as you step onto your tip toes reach into the back of the cupboard for two clean glasses, "We also occasionally organize cock fights, they're a big hit,"

Joel chuckles, setting the groceries down on your kitchen table, before he notices you struggling.

"Jesus Bonnie," you mutter to yourself, "Why do you always have to put the glasses in the back?"

"Here," Joel says, and he doesn't even think as he steps towards you, arm extending over yours to reach the glasses you're aiming for, the front of his chest brushing up against your shoulder as he grabs them, "I got it,"

The sound of his gravelly voice so close in your ear, and the feeling of his breath on the nape of your neck, makes you fight an urge to shiver, deciding instead to take a deep breath as you swivel around, facing him just as his arm comes down, two glasses clamped between his fingers.

"Thanks," you say with a soft smile as you look up at him, and Joel nods, eyes looking down and resting on yours for a second. You're standing almost face to face, the front of his flannel ghosting your own shirt. Then, he clears his throat, stepping backwards and away from you.

"I'll try some of that gin," he tells you, and your smile widens knowingly.

"I promise you won't go blind," you tell him with a laugh, and then you're on the move around your kitchen again, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out what looks like an old milk bottle filled with clear liquid, "Bonnie's good at it, believe it or not,"

"How do you even start brewing gin?" Joel asks as he sets the glasses down, and you chuckle slightly.

"We went on patrol once, in Grand Teton?" you explain, "She'd been making vodka by then already, but she saw a juniper bush and almost shit herself with excitement. . . it took us an hour to strip the damn thing clean of berries,"

"She a big drinker?" he asks as you unstopper the bottle, before pouring some of the stuff into both glasses, and you shake your head.

"Not more than me," you tell him, "But it keeps her busy, gives her something to do that isn't just patrol, y'know?"

Joel nods silently, before you hold the glass out to him. He takes it from you, ignoring his fingers brushing over yours and the way it makes his heart skip in his chest. You're not done with your drink, reaching into the fridge to grab another bottle, which looks like juice. It's a rich, dark pink color, and the little sticker on the side has a hastily scribbled 'Cherry' in your cursive handwriting.

"Takes the edge off," you say with a sigh as you watch him read the label, and Joel nods, before he takes a sip of his gin.

It's quite pleasant, much smoother than the bootleg Whiskey he used to drink in the QZ, but as it travels down his gullet, it brings with it a burn Joel knows is going to make him regret drinking it, later.

"You weren't wrong," he notes, clearing his throat after having swallowed it down, "That's actually quite pleasant,"

"Right?" you ask, before you take a sip of your own drink. A sip is generous, and before Joel knows it, you've downed the entirety of your glass, frowning for a second as the liquid burns down your throat.

You can tell he wants to open his mouth and say something, but you're grateful he doesn't, instead putting his glass down with a breath and grabbing the bag of groceries.

"Sit," he instructs you, motioning towards the chair at the dining table that's in the middle of the kitchen, and you don't protest, only moving to pour yourself another drink.

It's silent for a moment as he unpacks the vegetables, but after a second, Joel speaks up as he runs the carrots under the tap.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Joel asks, "That the reason you haven't been sleeping? Nightmares?"

Your response isn't immediate, and it's only when Joel looks back at you and sees your expression that he realizes this may be a sensitive topic. You give an uneasy smile, before shaking your head.

"Yeah," you manage to bring out, pursing your lips, "They're nothing too serious, I just wake up and then I can't sleep anymore, don't know why,"

You do know why. You know that sometimes the dreams are so intense, so scary, that you don't dare close your eyes again, at least not by yourself. Sometimes, you'd go downstairs, and crawl into bed with Bonnie. She'd been there, once, waking you from the middle of a dream while you'd been screaming the house down, and she'd not hesitated in taking you downstairs with her to sleep in her bed after you'd confessed to being scared out of your wits of being left alone.

Joel hums, nodding as he turns back towards what he'd been cooking, and you can't tell whether or not he's bought your lie.

"Ellie not home tonight then?" you ask after a second, and Joel nods, clearing his throat as chops some vegetables on one of your two cutting boards.

"She'll be home later," he informs you, "But she's out now, yeah,"

You give an agreeing hum, and for a second there's another silence that weighs heavy in the room.

"Joel," you let out, your voice a half groan, and he hums in question, peering over his shoulder, "The silence is killing me,"

Joel can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips as he goes back to dinner, shaking his head with a joking air. "Forgot you couldn't handle that,"

"I really can't," you agree, taking another sip, and Joel chuckles again. You watch the expanse of his shoulders and his back under the denim shirt as they move with his laughter, finding your fingers itching to just reach out and run your hand over the smooth lines of his muscles.

"You're in the wrong company for that then, darlin',"

The nickname jars you out of your thoughts, but it does absolutely nothing to quell the desire that had reared its head in your chest just seconds ago.

"I digress," you declare, trying to distract yourself from staring at him too much, "You're a good conversationalist when you want to be, Miller,"

"I'm so flattered you think so," Joel retorts sarcastically, and you smile into your drink, letting out something that sounds halfway between a giggle and a chuckle.

The sound bounces off the walls of the kitchen, and it makes Joel smile, aware that he's turned away from you and you can't see his reaction to your laugh.

"How was your day?" you ask after a second, your voice exaggerated.

"It was good," Joel says simply, aware that it's making you want to tear your hair out, "Fixin' the barn,"

"That was six words, Joel," you say, voice jokingly incredulous, "This is seriously like pulling teeth,"

Joel chuckles again, shrugging his shoulder, before he turns to look at you, grabbing his glass as he leans against the counter.

"Sounds like you got a decent challenge ahead of you then," he tells you, raising a teasing eyebrow as he takes a sip of his gin, corner of his mouth pulled into what can best be described as a troublemaker smile.

You love this side of Joel. Underneath all the rugged, surly exterior, he has something else to him; a witty remark, a teasing smile, a flirty comment. . .he has more depth to him than you'd ever expected at first glance, and something that spells trouble, something that drives you absolutely crazy.

"Never one to shirk from an honest challenge," you say, raising your own eyebrows, before you clear your throat.

Another silence fills the room as you look at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

"Okay," you say in a breath, rolling your eyes, "I guess it's up to me. . .but you actually have to answer some of my questions, okay? You can't just give me a wall of silence," you tell Joel, and he raises a joking eyebrow.

"Wall of silence?" he asks, and you give him a look.

"You know exactly what I mean," you tell him, pressing your lips together in thought, before you give a victorious expression, ". . . in fact, every time you pass on a question you have to drink," Joel chuckles, shaking his head as he crosses his arms over his chest, still leaning against the counter. "I can do that," "Okay. . .what is-. . .," you trail off as your eyes sweep across the kitchen as you think of what to ask Joel, "-your favorite color?' "My favorite color?" Joel repeats, and he gives you a mocking impressed face, "Those keen conversational skills really helping you along aren't they?' "Joel," you warningly, and he sighs, arms uncrossing. "It's green," he tells you, "My favorite color is green. . .what's your favorite color?" "I'm asking the questions!" you say with a small laugh, and Joel gives you a furrowed brow, corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. "Come on, you really think I'm going to let you interrogate me without at least getting to return the favor?" he asks you, eyes boring into yours You press your lips together as you let out a joking scoff through your nose. "Fine, you can ask me questions, too–"

"And If I have to drink when I pass–" he muses, to which you roll your eyes again.

"–so will I," you assure him, before grimacing, "Though with my tolerance, I might not make it to dinner,"

Joel snorts, eyebrows raising slightly in agreement as he turns back to the counter. "You didn't answer my question,"

"My favorite color is yellow," you inform him, and you watch as the back of his head nods.

"That makes sense," you hear him say, as your fingers tap nervously on the table, thinking of what to ask.

"Dream job?" you ask, before adding, "And you can't say contractor,"

Joel is silent for a second. "Farmer,"

You don't say anything, despite your eyebrows raising in surprise, and Joel peers over his shoulder when you stay quiet.

"Favorite season?" he asks, and you smile, giving him a pained look.

"Summer," you say in a groan, and he laughs, shaking his head as he continues chopping, "Which sucks because Jackson mostly has winter,"

"The summers here can be nice," Joel notes, and you let out a breath.

"Sure," you agree, "They can be nice. . . nothing compared to the ones we used to get in Nevada, though,"

"I bet," he notes, and you let out another wistful breath.

"Do you need help?" you ask him, and he shakes his head.

"Think I can manage some dinner,"

"But it'll be faster if I help," you protest, "Come on, I can chop some vegetables, or something,"

"Alright," Joel eventually agrees, and you get to your feet, making your way over to stand next to him, before holding out your hand.

"Put me in chef," you tell him half seriously, but the corners of your mouth are pulled up into that smile.

You're standing close to him, but not so close that you're crowding him. Your smell nevertheless tickles Joel's nostrils in a pleasant way.

Joel's own mouth twitches in mild amusement as he hands you the knife, handle down, and slides the cutting board over. "You chop these, then. . . I'll get started on the onions,"

"Good thing, too," you say with a nod, before getting to work as Joel moves away from you, "Onions make me cry like a baby. . . cutting board is in the third drawer under the stove,"

Joel chuckles as he rummages around for another cutting board and a knife, grabbing an onion from the bag.

"Okay," you hum, nothing but the sound of chopping filling the kitchen, "Any hobbies?"

"I thought you were helping," Joel comments pointedly, and you snort.

"You're not getting away from me that easy," you tell him, "I can help and interrogate, at the same time,"

"That so?" Joel hums as he chops the onions, eyes moving to you for a second and meeting your gaze.

"Yes," you tell him, nodding as a mischievous smile overtakes our features, "I'm a very good multitasker. . . now. . . hobbies,"

Almost the entire bottle and an entire dinner later, you and Joel are sitting on opposite sides of the dinner table, dirty dishes forgotten in the sink. You'd just stood up to reach into the cupboard for another bottle of something to replace the almost empty one on the table, reaching up into the cupboard. The shirt you're wearing rides up as you do, and Joel finds his eyes drawn to the exposed skin of your waist.

"I got one," you declare as you pause from reaching in the cupboard "Any tattoos?"

Joel actually laughs, head tilting back for a minute before he returns with his eyebrows raised but his smile intact. "An old man like me?"

"I'm sure you were young once," you counter with a laugh, and he shakes his head with another chuckle.

"Very funny," he tells you as you pull a bottle of wine from the cupboard, "Where'd that come from?"

"Emergencies," you tell him with a cheeky smile, before pursing your lips, "Or nice dinners,"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Joel tells you, before downing the sip of gin that was still in his glass, and you hum as you come to sit back down.

"It was," you tell him, and when Joel looks at you, you give him an expectant look, "You never answered my question,"

"I have one," Joel says with a sigh, "But I got it when I was drunk, with Tommy. . . it's a stupid one,"

You let out a laugh as you open the bottle of wine. "No way! Where is it?"

"That's two questions," Joel reminds you, and you snort sarcastically, raising a single eyebrow.

"Didn't know we were actually keeping count, Miller," you retort, and Joel just smiles as he shakes his head, before he clears his throat as he sits up a little straighter.

"It's on my thigh," he tells you eventually, and a grin spreads over your face as you shake your head, before pouring him some wine.

"Classic," you say in a laugh, "I bet it was popular,"

"It was," Joel says in a humorous tone, nodding as he watches you pour yourself a drink, "What about you?"

Your eyes look up at him as your put the bottle down, tongue kissing your teeth.

"I do," you say, deliberately not elaborating, and Joel's eyebrows raise a little.

"I shared, darlin', now it's your turn," he tells you, and you laugh a little, teeth chewing into your lip as you look away, maybe a little bashfully.

When you look back at him, you speak. "I have four,"

Joel's eyes go a little wide as he looks at you in surprise. "Four? How come I haven't noticed four tattoos?"

"It's not that many," you defend, before shrugging nonchalantly, "Besides, they're not in places I usually show a lot of people,"

"Like exclusive access?" Joel jokes, and you give a full laugh, head tipping back slightly as your shoulders shake.

"Exactly like exclusive access," you return in between laughs, and for a second, it's just the two of you, sitting in your kitchen, laughing.

It feels almost normal, like you're just two adults, having dinner; no Jackson, no cordyceps, no apocalypse.

You take another sip of wine, eye calculating as you think about your next question.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" you ask him finally, putting down your glass.

Joel thinks about this one, leaning back in his chair, legs parting slightly in such a way that makes you fight the desire in your belly, pressing your legs together slightly as your heartbeat skips slightly. You fight an urge to blush at your own thoughts, chastising yourself for sitting here drooling over a man that's nearly twice your age.

"Yes," he says eventually, nodding, and your mouth parts slightly in disbelief, mouth curling into a teasing smile.

"You believe in love at first sight? You? Ice King Joel Miller believes in love at first sight?"

"Ice king?" Joel asks, raising an eyebrow, "You're giving me a bad rap, darlin',"

"You did that all by yourself," you note, half under your breath, taking a sip of your drink, and he frowns slightly.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, his interest peaked, and something bashful crosses your face.

"Nothing," you say in a nonchalant voice as you pour yourself more wine, the bottle already emptying way faster than you intended it to, and Joel raises an eyebrow as he sits back in his chair again. It's taking a lot of willpower for you not to stare at the way his legs spread or his arms cross, making the biceps under his t-shirt bulge.

"I'm going to try that again," he tells you, and his voice is almost chastising as his eyes pierce yours, "And this time you aren't going to lie to me,"

"Or what?" you ask him, shaking your head with a small smirk, drinking again. You don't know why you challenge him, but you feel some enjoyment at the way Joel's eyebrows fly up his forehead in surprise and he kisses his teeth in mild annoyance as you let out a sarcastic chuckle into your glass, "You going to put me over your knee, grandpa?"

"Who says I won't?" Joel retorts swiftly, and he raises a single eyebrow as his eyes bore into yours.

It makes your heart skip, and something about his level, raspy tone sets something alight in your lower belly, which you try desperately to ignore. Joel enjoys the way your eyes flash with surprise and something he thinks he recognizes as lust, but it's gone so fast he can't say it with any certainty.

You're silent as you press your lips together, before you eventually let out a breath. "It's nothing major. . . just a bit of a reputation you have going,"

"As what?" Joel asks, frown deepening, but eyes still alight with curiosity as he scrutinizes your face.

"Emotionally unavailable, I guess?" you supply, and you try your hardest to keep your tone as neutral as possible, despite the knots of unease in your stomach.

Saying it about Joel was one thing; saying it to Joel? Awkward as fuck.

Joel seems to think about that, staying silent as you fight an urge to wring your hands.

"Listen, it's nothing too bad," you tell him, giving him a tense smile, "I mean, it could be worse. . ."

"Worse?" Joel asks you, almost jokingly, and you grimace.

"Eugene's blacklisted for being selfish," you offer, "That's pretty bad,"

"Blacklisted?" Joel lets out in a splutter, putting down his glass with a thunk, "By who?"

You shrug. "Women talk, Joel. . . this is a small community, word gets around,"

Joel seems to consider this, before he reaches over the table and grabs the bottle from where it had been standing in front you.

"And," he says, pouring himself another glass, "Is he?"

"Is who?" you ask, frowning quizzically, and Joel looks up at you as he takes a sip front the glass.

"Eugene," he tells you patiently, eyes curious, "He really selfish?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" you ask him, before you narrow your eyes at him, "You asking me if I've slept with Eugene, Joel?"

Joel stays still for a second, shrugging. "Just wonderin' whether you have any proof to back up these claims,"

"I have plenty of proof," you retort, giving him a look, "He went on a few dates with Jeannie last year and she told me he barely even touched her when they–"

You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut and pressing your lips together, before you shake your head. "We're getting off topic,"

"Off topic?" Joel asks humorously, "I'd say we just got on topic,"

"I'm not talking any more about this," you tell him, but the corners of your mouth pulling up into a smile betray you.

"You can't just bring it up and leave me guessing," Joel replies, and you let out a frustrated breath, "Now I sort of want to know how selfish Eugene is,"

"Didn't have you pegged for a gossip, Miller," you tell him, raising your eyebrows, and he shrugs.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, darlin',"

"Hence the game we were playing,"

"Mmh," Joel hums non-commitally, "Still waiting on that answer,"

"Listen, all I know is that when Bonnie slept with him a few months ago, he didn't reciprocate much. . . apparently it lasted all of 5 minutes and not one was spent on her,"

Joel grimaces, nodding in agreement. "That sounds pretty bad,"

"I told you," you say victoriously, and he chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

"You sound entirely too pleased about it," he comments, and you snort.

"I'm not surprised, is what I am," you inform him, taking a sip of your wine, "Eugene is. . . well, Eugene,"

"You seem pretty close," Joel notes, and you don't know if you hear something else in his voice other than curiosity. You raise a single eyebrow.

"You asking something?" you ask him.

"I'm not asking nothin'," Joel denies, putting his hands up, and you shake your head, corners of your mouth twitching into a smile. Then, you let out a small breath.

"When I first got to Jackson, Eugene's the one that let me in. . . I was a mess. . . hypothermic, covered in blood, barely alive, and for all he knew I could've been part of some elaborate raiding scheme, or infected. He had every reason not to let me in, but he did. . . he's the reason I'm alive," you explain to Joel, before clearing your throat, "Maria was furious with him, which I guess I understand. . . she has her own people to protect. . . but he never let up. He didn't even know me, and he stood up for me when they were still considering throwing me back out,"

"I didn't know that," Joel comments, and you let out a small chuckle.

"You know the old bank building?" you ask, and he nods.

"Maria said it worked as a jail but they'd never used it,"

"Oh, they used it alright," you say with a curt smile, "They hadn't learned to train those nifty dogs yet when I got to Jackson, and I was covered in so many cuts and scrapes they couldn't figure out whether or not I'd been bitten. . . didn't matter what I said. I was in there for two whole weeks while they waited it out, and Eugene came to see me every single day. . . Tommy, too, but it took him a few days before he started showing up. . . he'd only been there a few months himself, and I guess he wasn't keen to step on anybody's toes, which I understood,"

"Jesus," Joel mutters, and you can see the flash of unease in his eyes at the thought of you locked up in one of the makeshift cells of the bank, "Not the warmest welcome,"

"I can't blame them," you remark, raising your shoulders in a half-shrug, "It's a miracle this place has survived as long as it has. . . I would also have been apprehensive,"

"But, to answer your earlier question–" you say, clearing your throat as you sit up straight.

Because we both know what you were really asking.

"–Eugene tried to kiss on me once, and I laughed at him, so safe to say we are friends,"

Joel makes another grimace, trying to hide the pleased expression on his face as best he can, but you can still see it in his eyes. "Nothing like laughter to crush a man's ego,"

"Some egos need crushing," you tell him with a single raised eyebrow, before taking a sip of your drink.

"That's true enough," he agrees, before a silence falls over the two of you. After a second, you let out a breath, looking at the pile of dishes in your sink.

"I better do those before Bonnie comes home," you tell him, getting to your feet, "She has a thing about dishes in the sink,"

Joel gives a rare, knowing smile. "I'll help ya out,"

"Thanks," you say with a small smile as you reach the sink, turning the tap on as Joel comes to stand next to you, "Grab that towel? You're on drying duty,"

"Yes, ma'am," he jokes, grabbing one of the towels hanging off the handle of the cabinet.

"Ok, your turn to ask questions, now," you inform him as you start cleaning off some of the plates, "I'm out of ideas,"

"Alright," he says with a nod, before pausing to think, "You never told me what your tattoos were,"

"Now what did we say about exclusive access?" you retort, turning your head to raise a playful eyebrow at him, and he turns to look at you, corners of his mouth twitching slightly. You're practically standing shoulder to shoulder like this, his arm and leg brushing against yours from time to time, sending shockwaves up your spine.

"You tellin' me I gotta find a way to figure it out for myself?" he asks you, and his tone is lower than it was before as he looks at you, his eyes dancing with humor in the light of the kitchen as you give an innocent shrug, sucking some air between your teeth in a teasing sound, lips pulled into an almost-smile.

"Can't just go around telling everyone, now can I? Kinda defeats the whole 'exclusive' point," you muse, and he lets out something that sounds like a chuckle as he raises his eyebrows, nodding slightly as his tongue runs alongside the inside of his cheek.

Joel is so close to you now, you can smell the gin and wine on his breath. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to, his gaze saying enough for the both of you as it briefly moves from your eyes to the other features on your face, lingering on your lips a second longer. You feel something which you think are his fingertips, ghost the side of your hand, which is resting on the edge of the sink, and you swallow as you look up at him.

"What?" you ask him, quietly, raising an eyebrow, and he shrugs slightly.

"I didn't say anything,"

"You're looking at me," you say pointedly, and Joel's mouth curls into a gentle, but teasing smile.

"Is it illegal to look at a beautiful woman?"

You swallow, hard, your chest thumping underneath your shirt.

"Are you calling me beautiful?" you ask him, and to your surprise, he nods.

"Yes," he says simply, confidently, his breath fanning over your lips, "Is that a problem?"

You're silent for a second, eyes looking into his as he watches your reaction. "No,"

The smile on Joel's mouth widens slightly as he leans closer to you, lips getting closer to your.

"Good," he whispers, before he moves to kiss you.

Except he doesn't.

Joel doesn't kiss you because at the last minute, heart beating furiously against your ribcage, you turn your head slightly to the side. His lips barely brush over the corner of your mouth before Joel freezes, which makes you cringe.

Stupid.

Joel pulls away from you slightly to look at you, and despite the amount of drinks you've had, your heart is beating a million miles per hour as you and Joel stare at each other, embarrassment dawning in his eyes as he pulls away from you more, closing his mouth and swallowing.

It's at that exact moment that you hear the front door swing open.

"Hello? You home, hot-stuff?"

Your eyes widen slightly as Bonnie's voice travels through the house, her nickname for you making your cheeks burn. Joel fully steps away from you now, putting quite a bit of distance between the two of you as he steps away from the sink and the counter, putting the towel down on the counter.

"Joel–" you start as you move away from the counter, but Bonnie's voice interrupts whatever you were going to say.

"I was working in the fucking school all day, and then we had movie night," she continues as her voice gets closer and you try and catch Joel's eye, but he isn't looking at you, "I know everyone loves the kid, but I swear little Johnny Raster is such a little cun– Oh, hello,"

Bonnie is a tall and broad-shouldered woman, and even though she looks relatively imposing to those who don't know her, she happens to be one of the friendliest people in Jackson. That's not to say she takes shit; quite the opposite, really, she has an even lower tolerance for it than you do, and you wouldn't recommend pissing her off. She's standing in the doorway, dark hair pulled into a ponytail behind her head, green eyes observing the scene carefully. "Didn't know we were expecting company,"

"I was just on my way out, actually," Joel says, clearing his throat as he gives a slight, curt smile, "Ellie will have gotten home by now,"

"Yeah, I thought I saw the light at your place," Bonnie tells him, and Joel nods, still not looking your way.

"Right, that's my cue, then," he says, clearing his throat again, demeanour beyond awkward, before he looks up at you very briefly, "Thanks for the drinks. . . good night,"

"Good night, Joel," you say, your voice soft, and you try to disguise the undertone of pity.

You want to explain yourself desperately, but something about the look on Joel's face makes you think that wouldn't go down very well right now, anyway.

He grunts out a 'Bye' to Bonnie as he practically flees out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing down the hall before you hear the distinct noise of the front door opening and closing.

"What's with him?" Bonnie asks, one eyebrow creasing down quizzically crunching her face as steps into the kitchen, "He seems even surlier than usual,"

"Don't know," you say airily, and she directs her scrutinous gaze at you as she picks up the bottle of wine, sniffing it.

"That's a pile of bullshit," she tells you disbelievingly, "What happened?"

You're silent for a minute, before letting out a sigh. "He tried to kiss me,"

"And you didn't want him to. . .?" Bonnie suggests, her tone confused as her sentence hangs in the air, before she frowns slightly, "He's hot,"

"I sort of dodged him," you tell her, grimacing.

"Ouch," Bonnie groans out, sucking some air between her teeth, "Well, that explains it,"

"Yeah," you agree, chewing on your lip, "It was really stupid,"

"I mean you're allowed to say no," Bonnie reassures you, "But did you want to say no?"

"I don't know," you tell her honestly, chewing on your lip as your stomach swirls with conflicting feelings, and she hums.

"Well, you better figure it out fast, hot-stuff," she tells you, putting the glasses in the sink, "Because if we can't call Joel when the banister in the hall acts up again, I'm going to need to learn to be a contractor real quick,"

You don't see Joel at all the next day; not in the town, not at the small market in the square you know he usually goes to on Saturday mornings. You think you spot him working on the scaffolding with the same group as yesterday, but you don't go and investigate, partly out of your own embarrassment, and partly out of respect for the fact that he's probably avoiding you for a reason.

Instead you spend the day cleaning the house, and helping Bonnie with her projects, and before you know it the sky is darkening again and you're on your way to the Tipsy Bison for your shift. You don't mind bartending, and there was no doubt you were a right sight better at it then you were at healing.

The bar is relatively empty when you arrive at 6pm, and doesn't start to fill up until around half past seven, when people typically finish up dinner and the patrons start trickling in. To make matters even more crowded, it's Saturday, and given the Tipsy Bison is the only bar in Jackson, Saturdays are usually the busiest nights of the week. Not that you weren't used to it; when you'd started a year and a half ago, Seth, who ran the place, hadn't hesitated to put you on Saturdays almost immediately, because, to quote "Who doesn't like to be served beer by a pretty girl on their night off?"

The people didn't really bother you, and to be honest, you'd gotten used to it pretty quickly, becoming a near expert in warding off any unwanted attention in a graceful way.

"Can I get a whiskey?" comes a familiar voice from behind the bar just as you're filling up a beer, and you look to meet Tommy's kind eyes, your face breaking into a smile.

"Whiskey?" you ask, frowning jokingly as you set the beer down for another patron, "That isn't your usual order,"

Tommy's eyes flash with something that looks like unease, and it takes a second for your eyes to move from Tommy over the bar, eventually falling on the one person you know likes himself a whiskey. Joel is sitting at one of the tables with the rest of the guys, observing your interaction, but when your eyes move towards him, he pretends to busy himself talking to Eugene. Your stomach sinks.

"Ah," you let out, your tone awkward as you look back at Tommy, your smile having dropped from genuine to half-disappointed as your eyes flash with something akin to sadness, "That's because it's not for you,"

Tommy clears his throat. "Look, I told him to just–"

You raise your hand to interrupt him, giving him a small smile as you shake your head. "It's okay, Tommy. . . you don't have to explain anything to me,"

"Right," he says, clearing his throat with an awkward smile as you pour the drink.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask him pointedly, and he nods, swallowing.

"Just a beer for me, thanks,"

It takes a second for you to make the drinks, and you strike up a conversation with him as you do. "You guys finished fixing the building yet?"

"Almost," Tommy says with a nod, "Though we missed your usual coffee delivery today,"

"Sorry," you grimace slightly, eyes flicking over to Joel for a second before they fall back on Tommy, "I, uh–. . . didn't want to make anybody uncomfortable, y'know?"

You're almost positive Tommy knows what went down between you and Joel last night; either his brother told him, or he guessed it when Joel sent him over here to order him a drink, but you can see it in the way his expression morphs into one of awkward understanding.

"Well, I can't speak for everyone, but you could never make me uncomfortable, kiddo," Tommy informs you, and the smile you give him is genuine.

"I appreciate that," you tell him, laughing slightly as you put down the two drinks, "here you are,"

Tommy nods as he picks up the drinks, before he seems to hesitate.

"For what it's worth, I told him he should talk to you about it, at least,"

"Well, you can lead a horse to water. . . " you say with a tight-lipped smile, and Tommy nods with a snort.

"Too fucking right you are," he notes, which makes you chuckle.

"Have a nice night, Tommy,"

"You too, kiddo. . . anybody gives you trouble we'll be right over there,"

"Thanks," you say with a small chuckle.

The rest of the evening goes by relatively smoothly, save for a few over-zealous customers near the end of your shift that you manage to handle, but not before you notice from the corner of your eye how Joel straightens in his seat, eyes boring into the side of your face as he gages the situation.

You weren't surprised; ever since that incident with Sean Mixon a few months back, when you'd first started doing closing shifts on busy nights, Joel had stayed close by. It hadn't been anything too serious, but you'd ended up on Joel and Ellie's porch after closing time on the verge of tears to ask if he'd had any antiseptic for a grizzly looking cut on your arm. You'd gotten it after Sean had flown into a drunken rage and hurled a glass at your head when you'd asked him to leave, and one of the ricocheting shards had caught your skin. It hadn't necessarily been the worst of cuts, but you'd been pretty shaken up nevertheless, and given Bonnie had been away on a night patrol at the time, you'd ended up sleeping on their couch.

After that, Joel had been there every time you worked a closing shift, come rain or shine, always staying all the way until the end. Even though he'd generally leave along with the last customer, you could always see Joel's living room light on and the curtains open as you walked home, sat in a chair reading or playing guitar but always keeping an eye on your porch as you got home.

This evening was no different, and it felt admittedly comforting to know Joel wasn't so angry with you he wasn't here as usual.

You'd spent the last 10 minutes doing most of your cleanup so you could corner Joel on your way out. You'd had pretty much the entire night to think and watch him, which had culminated into you talking yourself into what would probably be a relatively awkward confrontation about what had happened yesterday.

You wait and watch as Joel leaves, not looking in your direction, before you grab your coat off the chair and flick the light off, hurrying out of the door after him.

"Joel!" you call, watching as he stops in his tracks and turns back towards you, "Wait a second,"

You turn back to the door, locking it hastily, almost afraid he'll have taken off by the time you turn back, but he hasn't. He's standing still, half-facing you, hands stuffed into his jean pockets and shoulder hunched against the cold as you give him an awkward smile, jogging to catch up with him.

"Look, about earlier. . . " you start as you level with him, and Joel has to admit to himself he's surprised by the fact you get right to it. He had at least been expecting an attempt at some uneasy small talk.

"It's okay," Joel assures you quickly, hands still in his pockets, "I promise I can handle getting rejected. . . I was just a little caught off guard, yesterday, I thought–. . . well, it doesn't matter,"

"It's not that I'm not interested," you offer, almost timidly, and Joel feels a jolt in his chest at your words, despite himself, eyes moving from the ground to meet yours, "I just–. . . I want us to be on the same page,"

Joel raises his eyebrows slightly, his look urging you to continue.

You wring your hands slightly, letting out a breath that curls into the cold night air as your turns and start walking home, Joel falling into step with you. "Look, I'm not really a dater. . .um–. . . I lost someone I loved a few years ago and it was the most pain I think I've ever felt in my life,"

Joel is silent as you walk, hands in his pockets as he listens to you speak, patient, open.

He can see the grief in your eyes, but also a peace, one he'd longed to find for so many years and had only partially regained when he'd met Ellie. Sarah was a part of him he would always miss; the pain had only gotten less frequent, but it was never gone entirely, lingering within him like a smouldering flame.

"I'm just not eager to feel that again," you explain, giving him a watery smile, "So I just don't really get, er, involved. . . with, people. . . that's why I kind of dodged you, yesterday,"

Joel watches as your brow frowns slightly as you seem to cringe at your own words, taking another nervous breath as your fingers hang by your side, tapping your leg uneasily.

"At all?" Joel asks after a second, and your eyes shoot up from where they'd been on your feet to meet his.

His gaze is earnest, and you can tell he's genuinely curious, too. There's something else there, too, which you can't identify but gives you the nagging feeling you might've read Joel Miller wrong, after all.

"I mean, not at all," you bring out, frowning slightly as the corner of your mouth pull up into a slight smile, "I might be emotionally unavailable, but I'm not a nun,"

Joel lets out a small laugh, steps slowing as they come to a stop, and you look at him with a smile, stopping to face him. It's not very close to him, but Joel's steps carry him a little closer to you, closing the gap further until you're standing face to face.

"Good to know you're still open to enjoying the finer things in life," he jokes, and now it's your turn to laugh, shaking your head as Joel watches the smile on your features.

"Yes, I am," you say with a remaining chuckle, clearing your throat slightly as you look up at him.

"So–" he speaks after a second, swallowing as his eyes draw you in, voice slightly deeper than it had been a second ago, "If I were to kiss you, say, right now–"

His gaze moves for a split second from your eyes down to your lips, "You wouldn't object?"

"Joel. . ." you say his name in half-warning, but you can already feel the pads of his finger ghosting the fabric of your coat, and you swallow, "We can't get involved. . . this can't become a mess,"

Joel hums slightly, and you feel his hand move, pressing his palm over the curve of your waist as his eyes look for yours, "Heard you the first time, darlin'. . . I can be casual. . . that's what you're saying, ain't it?"

You look up at him, into his eyes, and Joel can tell you're fighting with yourself.

You are. Parts of you are protesting that this is a slippery slope, that this is dangerous, and then the other parts of you are drawn to him; his presence, his smell, his eyes. . .god, those eyes. He has an almost irresistible look in his eyes, coupled with the beginnings of that troublemaker smile he has that's oh so rare – but oh so attractive.

It's like a moth to a flame, and when you feel Joel's hand move under the hem of your coat, thumb pressing a gentle circle on your lower waist over the fabric of your t-shirt, you can barely stop yourself from throwing yourself at him right then and there. You draw in a sharp breath, and feel the corners of your mouth pull up into a coquettish smile as you give in to him.

"Well then," you say, and your voice is almost a whisper, your breath fanning Joel's lips, "You going to kiss me then, Miller? Or are you going to wait around for the grass to grow?"

He chuckles, and it's low in his chest as you feel his hand flatten against your waist, pulling you flush against him so your lips are mere inches from his, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. "You got a smart mouth on you, you know that?"

"Trust me, it's good for other things, too," you suggest, your voice half teasing, and Joel chuckles again, his nose bumping up against yours as his eyes dive deep into yours, rich and intoxicating and darkening slightly at your words.

"Well, in that case. . . "

Joel doesn't finish he sentence before he leans in, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

It's everything you imagined kissing Joel would be like, and as your lips move, reciprocating, you feel his other hand come up, fingers ghosting the side of your neck before you feel the pads of his fingers on your jaw line. When you press further against him, his hand moves to cup your cheek, fingertips grazing the hair at the base of your skull, under your ear, pulling you closer to him as you melt against his chest.

Finally, after a second, you pull away from each other to catch your breath, but as you do, you trap Joel's bottom lip between your teeth gently, tugging on it slightly as you pull away from him. You feel his hands tighten around your waist, and it makes the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a smirk as you open your eyes to look back him. He's looking down at you, pupils blown wide and a half-conflicted look in his eyes.

"What?" you ask him, voice almost a whisper, and he shrugs.

"I'm trying to decide if it's too crass to ask to take you home tonight," Joel says, almost carefully, and your smile grows slightly as you chuckle, before you lean in and kiss him again.

This one is longer, more inviting, and your hand moves Joel's from your waist down to the curve of your ass. Joel lets something akin to a groan against your mouth as his fingers dig into your ass, and you pull away from him with another teasing smile.

"I'd be a little disappointed if you didn't take me home, Miller," you muse, and now Joel's mouth curls into a genuine smile as you feel his hand take yours.

"What are we still standing around talking for, then, darlin'? Let's go home,"

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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clip-the-simp · 4 months

Text

Not Much Else [Pt.4]

Ao3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3,257

Warnings: 🔞 NSFW! mdni!, Swearing, drug use (? It’s The Ghoul’s inhaler) (I’m bad at warning tags so just let me know if I need/should to add some)

Tags: Mild Proofreading, NSFW!, fingering, oral (f receiving), PnV, unprotected sex, overstimulation, irradiated cream pie, wing play(?) suggestive content, flirting, reader had bat wings, Bounty Hunting, deviation from TV show, pre!show events(?), (Again I'm bad at tags so let me know)

Summary: You're a vault experiment that makes it to the surface. Quickly you learn the lay of the land and a few years later end up working the same bounty as The Ghoul. You convince him to let you tag along after having a feeling that you just had to follow him. Where will this story lead? Only time (and my motivation) will tell.

A/N: Question for y’all. Is it confirmed somewhere that whatever is in The Ghoul’s inhaler is Radaway or are we just assuming that? And what methods are there of using RadAway. Haven’t done much research but figured someone would correct me in the comments. Would love to know. Anyway, this is part 4 to my Copper Howard/The Ghoul x reader fanfic. This is also my first time writing smut so that’s why it took me a while to update. Be forewarned that this is going to be far from canon and really unrealistic honestly. But listen. If writing has taught me one thing, it’s that anything can happen.

The Ghoul’s expression soured as he turned his head back to the fire and started poking at it with the stick. The burnt speaks of wood floating through the air and a few catching on the meat cooking above. No wonder you had been so drawn to him at first. The two of you had been thick as thieves before the bombs fell.

“You’re gonna need t’ be more specific darlin.” He stated while he leaned back, Cooper’s eyes stayed on the flames as they reached for the sky. Words failed to form in your mouth when you tried to clarify. Instead opting for a moment of silence.

You rotated the meat on the makeshift spit you had made. Memories of the past the two of you shared began to resurface.

The time when you had accepted an invitation to a wrap party at his house. You had fallen into the pool, while talking to Coop, when another party goer had drunkenly pushed you in. Being a good host he helped you out of the pool while Barb grabbed you a towel to dry off.

Another time Cooper and yourself were on set getting ready for a romantic scene. You had zoned out while admiring the set when he had spooked you from your thoughts. Out of instinct you had jumped and spun around. Cooper had been close enough to end up with a shoulder to the chin from your jump. You had apologized profusely but he assured you it had been fine.

You were brought out of your memories when the man beside you coughed. Your attention was drawn back to him as he rummaged through his bag for his modified jet inhaler. He had used it a few times a day but it seemed as if he was having to use the device a bit more.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive.” You said only slightly above a whisper. Having assumed everyone from your past had died, besides the ones trapped in vaults, you had accepted being the only relic from your time.

Cooper placed the glass vial into his inhaler before taking a large intake of the yellow medicine. He coughed a few times before trying to answer you properly.

“I may be ‘alive’,” He raised his fingers in air quotes around the word ‘alive’ before he looked at you. Cooper’s eyes held a range of emotions that you couldn’t narrow down. “But I’m not the same man I was.”

“Regardless. It’s nice to have you around.” You assured him before settling back against the log. Pulling your bag into your lap, you rummaged around for a moment to find your rations. There weren’t many options besides the human jerky you had prepared the night before. Deciding it’s better than using up your good food, you settled for it. Also pulling out the bottle of whisky you had stashed. As you tore off a piece of meat and began to chew, a chuckle rose from Cooper which got your attention.

“So, you go around telling everyone you were a floozy in Hollywood or am I just special?” He had a smirk on his face which earned him an extra hard punch to the arm. Cooper let out a hurt sound which bleed into a laugh, rubbing the spot you had hit.

“Is that really what you're stuck on? After this revelation that ‘oh hey, my friend is still alive’ all you got was ‘man what a floozy?” You questioned him with a raised eyebrow. Cooper relaxed again into the log, making sure to throw an arm behind you.

“Can’t say it went unnoticed. Never thought y’ to be the type.” He shrugged and grabbed the whisky bottle you had laid between the two of you as you took another bite. Cooper uncorked the bottle and brought it to his lips to take a quick swig. A few drops of the amber liquid escaped from the sides of his mouth. You gave him a glare as he helped himself to your liquor.

“Ya well it’s not like I went around flaunting the fact I had to sleep with a few producers to get my start.” You growled before reaching for the bottle which he pulled away from you. Cooper chuckled at the look on your face before reluctantly passing it to you. Yanking it from his grip you took a gulp. Letting the liquid burn its way down your throat as it chased down the jerky.

“Y’ didn’t sleep with Emil right?” He asked as you took a sip. The question caught you off guard as you began to choke on your meal. You coughed into your arm trying to compose yourself. If you hadn’t been choking you would've punched him again.

“God no! I was well in the business by then.” You said through coughs. Reaching his hand back out, you frowned and gave back the bottle. Cooper took another sip while looking into the fire. Feeling like causing trouble, you decided to poke the bear so to speak.

“Why? You jealous?” You teased with a raised eyebrow. You had to admit that Cooper was always charming. Before the booms, you had fancied him but kept it to yourself with him being married and all. You saw how much he loved his family even after the divorce.

“You want me to be?” He tilted his gaze to yours. The light from the fire distorting the look on his face, but the tone in his voice was unmistakable. It was predatory which matched the shift in the air you felt. Knots formed in your stomach as his gaze lingered. A heat building just below the surface of your skin.

You reached across him again trying to get the whiskey. Feeling like you needed some more liquid courage before you tried anything. Cooper pulled it from your reach again but this time you didn’t withdraw. Instead you continued to reach over his lap until he couldn’t keep it from you anymore that way. In retaliation he raised it above his head causing you to move and grab it from him.

Yanking it from his hand, you lowered yourself again and looked back at him with a look of triumph. It quickly faded however when you realized the position you were in. You hadn’t realized when you started to reach over his head, that you had moved to straddle The Ghoul holding your liquor hostage.

When you rested your weight back down Cooper jumped at the opportunity to pull you closer. One hand was pressed firmly against your lower back but placed to not touch the base of your wings. While the other rested on the back of your neck.

Your face was mere inches away from his and it made your heart race. The contact was sending waves of heat through your nerves that was making it hard to think. Your body was frozen in place and breathing started to become hard the longer he held you in his grip.

In a split second his lips were on yours and his hold on you got tighter. Cooper held you flushed against his body as he deepened the kiss with a slip of his tongue. It tasted of whiskey and whatever chems he had been puffing on earlier but in that moment it was heaven.

Your body loosened as you indulged in the kiss. Placing your arms on either side of his shoulders, you pulled closer. Still gripping the bottle of whisky in one hand you took your other, having dropped the jerky earlier, and rested it on the back of his neck.

The man under you groaned when you subconsciously moved your hips. Your body was begging for friction that you prayed Cooper would provide.

Pulling away for air, Cooper’s hands moved higher to graze the spot between your wings. A pathetic whimper left your throat as you let your wings go limp beside you.

“Fuck, Cooper.” You groaned, pulling the whisky bottle to your mouth again for a long sip before placing it behind the log. Hoping that it wouldn’t spill and be wasted. He tilted his head back to get a proper look at you, slowly taking away the hand at your neck to place his hat on the log. His gaze burned your skin and caused your clothes to feel as if they had become too clingy.

“Is that what y’ want?” Cooper’s tone was taunting. His hands moved to your waist as he held them in place to push his hips firmly between your legs. You could feel the tent in his pants beginning to form which only causes you to feel more desperate.

“Are y’ starting to remember those producers y’ had to fuck to get where y’ needed to be?” His question irritated you but only a low moan left you as you rested your face in the crook of his neck. The pressure that was starting to build was unbearable as you continued to move your clothed core against him.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” You grumbled into the flesh of his neck. His movements were quick as he pushed you onto the ground, parallel to the log and fire, keeping you pinned under him. Your heart was beating hard against your ribs. Laying on your back wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but at that moment you wouldn’t dare protest.

“Seems to me Imma have to teach y’ some manners.” His fingers slipped under the hem of your pants and underwear as he began to tug on them, which you let him. You gripped onto his shoulders while trying to help shimmy out of them and slipped out of your boots simultaneously.

Cooper tossed your clothes behind the log which you prayed didn’t tip over the open whisky bottle. Your thoughts were quickly pulled back to the man looming over you when he leaned down and nipped at the side of your neck.

You felt vulnerable under him as he gripped every inch of your exposed body with greedy hands. There were bound to be bruises later, especially where he continued to bite at your skin.

Copper lifted the bottom of your shirt but didn’t dare to try and rip it off. He stopped his pursuit on your neck as he made his way south. His lips passed over the fabric before pressing them just below your sternum and continued to travel downward. The ache in your lower half began to grow as he traveled further. Embarrassment took over as you threw an arm over your eyes and your breathing became uneven.

“Look at me sweetheart.” The Ghoul demanded which you reluctantly obeyed, only slightly lifting your arm to meet his gaze. Your eyes met his and a breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He laid perfectly between your legs as he continued his trip downward. Pausing for a moment, he lifted his gloved hand to his mouth and bit the leather to remove it.

He tossed the glove behind the log to join your discarded clothes before going back to his work. Taking a moment he lifted two fingers to your lips. Quickly getting the memo, you took them into your mouth. They were bitter and salty but that didn’t bother you too much.

Cooper let out a low hum as he pulled them from your mouth and examined the work. There was a glint in his eyes as he did so. Not wasting any more time, he brought them back to where you needed them most.

A whimper left you when The Ghoul proceeded to run a finger through your wet folds. You hadn’t been touched in years, always focused on staying alive and never letting yourself make time for pleasure.

There was a chuckle that left Cooper as he indulged in the sounds you made. Your face burned with embarrassment as another whimper left your throat when he proceeded to lazily tease your entrance.

His gaze was burning with lust as he pushed a finger into you. Your hand flew to your mouth as you tried not to moan. You could feel him working you open before pushing the other finger in. The sounds were lewd as he worked his digits in and out.

Your eyelids began to fall but quickly flew open as you felt The Ghoul’s lips press against your clit. It sent an abrupt wave of pleasure through you when he began to roll his tongue over the bundle of nerves. You couldn’t hold back your moans any longer once he began to work expertly at bringing you pleasure.

“Please, Coop.” You pleaded as his fingers began to speed up in their pursuit. Your hands gripped at his shoulders in an attempt to anchor yourself to reality. A knot began to tighten in your lower half as The Ghoul relented.

You were right on the edge, upper thighs glistening with your arousal and saliva both from Cooper and yourself. However, right when you felt that tipping point begin to appear is when The Ghoul decided to pull away. A growl of frustration left your throat before you lifted your gaze to glare at him.

Although you looked more like a begging mess then the threat you intended to be. Cooper moved upward and kissed you while slipping his tongue past your lips. The taste of yourself in his mouth was shocking but not as much as when his pants were suddenly half way down his thighs and his hard cock was grinding against you.

You couldn’t help when your hips came up to meet his and your legs spread further to accommodate him. He groaned at the action and brought one hand to lightly stroke the part of your wing that was once broken. You moaned into the kiss which was only amplified when you felt the tip of Cooper’s cock sink into you.

One of his hands remained brushing over your wing while the other pinned down your hip. You wanted more of The Ghoul but he would only allow it at his own pace. Your hands gripped into the leather duster he wore when he began to push further into you.

A grunt left The Ghoul’s lips as you held onto him tighter and squeezed your eyes shut. The hand that was once at your wing was soon placed at your jaw as Cooper tipped your face to meet his.

“Look at me while I’m fucking you.” He demanded and proceeded to bottom out. An abrupt moan left you as you absorbed the feeling of The Ghoul deep inside you. You could feel every dip and rib that his radiation scares provided as he allowed you time to adjust.

Once adjusted, you soon grew impatient as your hips began to move on their own, trying to provide yourself with stimulation. Cooper chuckled before proceeding to rock his hips into you, slowly at first but the pace soon quickened.

“Jesus darlin you feel good.” He grumbled in your ear before proceeding to kiss and bite at your neck once more. You moaned lowly as you began to feel close to the edge again. It didn’t take much considering the prep he had provided and already being so close to begin with.

Your release came quickly when Cooper lowered a hand between the two of you and started to play with your clit. Small crescent moons appeared in the leather of The Ghoul’s jacket as you rode out your orgasm. The man still biting at your neck letting out a few moan of his own as you came.

He detached himself from your neck to look you in the eyes, his pace never faulting. It soon became too much as he tried to find his release. Pathetic sounds fell from your lips and filled the air as The Ghoul became relentless.

“Fuck. Cooper. Please.” Your mind was a bit scrambled as you pleaded. The once pleasant bullying of his cock soon became far more than you needed. But you didn’t want to stop him. As overstimulated as you were, you wanted his release just as you wanted your own.

“I know just, fuck, hold on a bit longer.” The Ghoul’s movements began to sputter. His once steady thrust became deep and uncoordinated. He could feel your walls clamping down on him even after your climax which soon was his downfall.

Cooper got so lost in the moment that he didn’t stop to think about where you wanted his cum. You felt his dick twitch inside you as he came. Coating your walls white before he lowered to lay most of his weight on top of you. He stayed buried in you for a while as the both of you recovered.

You didn’t mind the weight of him even with your back starting to ache. Bathing in the afterglow provided you a moment to take in The Ghoul. His breathing had settled to an even pace as you rubbed your hands up and down his back.

“Y’ alright darlin?” Cooper asked, his voice muffled from where he had it buried in your shoulder. You hummed softly in acknowledgment. He raised his head up and placed a kiss on your lips before pulling out slowly. An involuntary whimper left your throat as he did so, now feeling empty and your mixed arousals leaking out of you.

He tucked himself back in his pants before digging in his bag for something. You didn’t bother looking as you continued to gather your thoughts. When he moved back to you he had a damp rag and something else you couldn't quite make out.

Cooper was as gentle as he could be when cleaning you up. The water was obviously cold but it didn’t bother you too much with how hot you were feeling. Once he was done he threw the fabric behind him and reached over the log to hand over your clothes.

Standing up to put your pants back on you looked down at The Ghoul to see what he had in his other hand. It was a small vial of RadAway which made you smile. He might not look like the same man you once knew, but god did you fall even further for him all the same. Even with his gruff exterior, The Ghoul was still a gentleman.

“Y’ should probably take this before y’ get sick.” He said as you sat back down and leaned against the log. Making sure to grab the whisky bottom from behind it, still upright and not a drop misplaced.

“I appreciate the gesture but please don’t worry about me.” You grabbed the cork and pushed it back onto the bottle. Looking back at him his brows were furrowed. You gave a small smile before placing your hand over the vial and pushing his hand back towards himself.

“I don't think a little bit of you being in me is gonna kill me. There is enough radiation pumping through my veins as is.” You reasoned, Cooper mumbled a few words under his breath before putting the RadAway back in his bag. He didn’t feel like arguing but would make sure you took some eventually.

He leaned back against the log, making sure to be as close as he could beside you. Your body was zapped of energy and couldn’t help your head falling onto his shoulder. The wing farthest from Cooper came in to tuck around you as you drifted off.

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #x reader #x reader fanfiction #f!reader #fem!reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #fallout franchise #fallout fanfic #fallout #fan fiction #fanfic #writing #writers on tumblr #female writers

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 10 days

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The Quicksilver Princess Ch. 5

Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?

Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)

Word Count: 5,730

A/N: This is the ridiculously long postponed Chapter 5. (Ch. 4 was posted more than 2 years ago! 🙈🙈) This fic won my poll to see what orphaned series I'd finish next. And I'm so thrilled that I'm finally able to finish it. I swear Chapter 6 will be up in the next week or so at the latest. It's all outlined and ready to go, just gotta write it out. But it will DEFINITELY not be another two years. *crosses heart*

Hope you enjoy this chapter! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean came awake with a start, sitting up quickly and then immediately groaning and pressing his hand to his head as it throbbed. He squeezed his eyes closed for a minute, feeling slightly nauseous and trying to make sense of the jumble of images in his mind.

Mellie's face floated into focus and his eyes popped open.

“Mellie?” He called out, sitting up quickly and looking around as his head throbbed again. A few feet away, Rowena held out her hands towards him.

“Try not to move too quickly. I had to use strong magic to fell you and that can sometimes leave a person feeling a wee bit peaky.”

Suddenly everything came rushing back to Dean and he jumped up, charging towards the tiny witch. He stopped just short of wrapping his hands around her neck, but his fingers itched from the restraint.

“You let her go!” He roared at her. “To save your own skin you gave her up just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Rowena shook her head. “You've really a very low opinion of me, haven't you? This is the second time you've accused me of selling out our wee princess.”

Dean clenched his teeth. “Because I know who you are and how you operate. You'd do anything to save yourself.”

Rowena shrugged. “I won't apologize for prioritizing my safety. But it just so happens that this time, the princess's safety and mine go hand in hand. I need her to stop the Queen because nothing that duplicitous, mangy monarch has planned could possibly do me, or any of us for that matter, any good.”

Dean swallowed hard. “So you sent Mellie out to be slaughtered, and you think THAT is a solution? If anything, you've just made the queen's attempt at power that much easier.”

Rowena shook her head. “No, because you are going to save her, remember?”

Dean growled in frustration, turning abruptly to begin pacing around thel grand entranceway. “You're as bad as Mellie! Just how am I supposed to get into the castle, past hundreds of guardsmen, through the queen's own personal guards and into her suites to stop her from…”

He lifted his arms and spun back to face the witch. “From what exactly? We have no idea what she's doing, what she's planning! So, how can I even try to go in prepared?”

Rowena nodded. “It’s a quandary to be sure, but you’re a resourceful young lad, I have faith you’ll figure it out.”

Dean just glared at her. Rowena raised a delicate shoulder. “Look, all I can tell you is that the Queen may pretend she’s a part of the Great Church as the monarchs are meant to be, but she’s a witch, through and through, except that she's a coward and hides it. But her father was a devout follower of the old gods, and he taught her to be the same.”

Dean frowned. “How do you know that?”

Rowena looked away coyly. “I maybe, perhaps, let him court me for a few years after his wife died.”

Dean’s eyes got wide. “So you know the Queen? Personally?”

Rowena scoffed. “I wouldn’t claim that much. When I was with Roland, little Layo’ita was hardly ever around. Her days were mostly spent learning how to marry King Yasa and be his First Queen.

Yasa’s maiden aunt lived at Roland’s keep to teach Layo’ita how to be royal - the protocols and expectations, as well as the history of the Coll family’s reign of Sanso’ye for three hundred years. She had a lot to learn, so we didn’t see her often. She’d essentially been the Coll’s property from the day the betrothal papers were signed when she was just two weeks old.”

Rowena sighed. “I could almost feel sorry for her back then. She was just this plain little slip of a girl, and it must have been a very heavy burden for her to carry.”

Dean grit his teeth. “Yes, well now she’s a murderer, so I’m afraid I don’t share your sympathy.”

Rowena arched an eyebrow. “I said I could ALMOST feel sorry for her. But even back then, she had a kind of mean streak in her. And Roland encouraged it. When she was ten years old she was practicing a complicated courtier’s dance and slipped and fell flat on her arse. Her handmaid, the woman who had been assigned to her at birth, who’d doted on her constantly for ten years, chuckled slightly at the slip up and Layo’ita had her taken away and severely whipped. When he found out about it, Roland told her she’d done right, that she was a product of the old gods and they wouldn’t allow for mockery.”

Rowena’s lip curled. “I didn’t stay with him long after that.” She sighed. “I know for a fact that he encouraged her to pursue magic and the old ways. But she hides it very well. I don’t think many people in the kingdom even have a clue about her witchery. Hypocrite.” She huffed.

Dean closed his eyes. “Alright, how does any of this help me? It just means that on top of the couple hundred guardsmen and personal guards between me and the Queen, apparently I also have her powerful magical abilities to contend with.”

“Yes, which is an important fact to know going in, don’t you think?” Rowena asked with pique. “You’re welcome, Winchester.”

Dean sighed. “Yes, thank you, Witch.” He rubbed a hand over his face. His stomach felt sick as he thought of Mellie holed up with a crazed, dark-hearted woman bent on power.

“I don’t know where to start.” He said, a little desperately. “Obviously I need help, but I’m telling you, the other Warriors won’t listen to me. Or the vast majority of them won’t.”

Rowena shook her head. “I think you’re underestimating your own persuasiveness as well as the Warriors’ sense of what’s right. The members of your clan have powerful instincts that skirt the edges of being magical themselves.”

“We are not magical.” Dean said with a frown. “We're just very good at our duties, and we take our oaths seriously.”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “As you say, dear. The point being that those good instincts will help them hear the truth of your mission.”

Dean shook his head and sighed deeply. “I suppose it's my only hope, isn't it?”

“Likely is.” She held up a finger. “Just wait one moment, I have something that might help you.”

She walked out of the room, but was back almost instantly with two small leather bundles that she handed to Dean. He looked at them and raised a brow.

Rowena covered them in his hand. “These reveal spell work. You've got a powerful witch on your hands, one who has been able to hide her magic for a very long time. But this bag will glow purple in the presence of magic and if you burn one, it will reveal to you what magic has been used, so you can't be fooled by trickery.”

Dean nodded. “That will be helpful, thank you.”

Rowena smiled at him, and he recognized it as genuine. “You can thank me when that wee princess is safe and that lying, cowardly Witch Queen is dead.”

Dean nodded. “Done.”

***

Melissande was trying not to panic.

The ride from Rowena’s to the castle had taken half a day. Her surrender had been simple enough; she’d merely told the Guardsmen that she was ready to be taken to the First Queen, and one of them had swept her up in front of him on his horse and shackled her wrists before galloping away. They’d traveled for hours and had arrived at the castle just as the sun was at its zenith in the sky.

The solar eclipse will happen in less than a day, Melissande thought with a little thrill of fear. But then she shook her head. No, I believe in you, my Winchester Warrior, I know you’ll get here on time.

When they got to the castle, the guard she’d been riding with lifted her down and then took her to a cell in the dungeons of the castle. It was bleak, but it was clean and there was one high window that let in some light and air.

As dungeons went, she supposed it could be worse.

She’d been to the King's Castle less than a dozen times throughout her life, and only a handful of times in the last dozen years. All her life she'd lived with her mother in the Blue wing of the Northern Castle. When she was younger, her father’s other wives and children had lived there too. The Second Queen had lived in the Yellow Wing with her son, and the Third Queen had lived in the Green Wing with her two daughters.

Melissande was many years younger than her other siblings and as such, they’d never been close.

The First Queen had given birth to one son and one daughter. But the baby girl had died very shortly after birth, and she’d never met her eldest brother, heir to the throne, Prince Lien. By the time she was born, he was living far away, governing some of Sanso’ye’s territories in The Lands Beyond.

Her second brother, Prince Ar'tak, was a captain in the King’s Forces and fighting in some endless war across the sea. She only had vague, unreliable memories of him, since he left when she was barely four years old.

Her two elder sisters, Par’ita, and Sol’min had been married off to lesser Princes in Misola, when Melissande was eight. They had been seventeen and eighteen respectively and with a decade separating their ages, they'd had very little interest in spending time with their eight year old half sister.

So, she didn’t really know any of her half-siblings very well, but she’d been close with her father. Or she thought she had.

But since he’d stopped coming to visit the Northern castle when she was six, she'd only seen him from afar during those official events that her mother had insisted they travel south to attend, “because it was the proper thing to do”. Her sisters’ weddings had been two of those occasions.

Every time they'd gone to the castle, no matter how brief their visit, Melissande had always secretly hoped her father would notice her and come running, excited to see her once again, as he used to be.

She still remembered how it used to feel when he would come to visit. They usually knew he'd be coming, but sometimes he surprised them, and he'd stride through the door of their sitting room, and his deep, calm, voice would fill the stone room with warmth.

Melissande would jump up and run to him, despite her mother's loving admonishment that proper ladies didn't run and leap into people's arms. Her father had no such compunction, however, and would whisk her off the ground in a sweeping arc that made her squeal in delight.

Her mother may not have leapt into his arms, but she walked into them quickly, and happily. Her father would hold her in one arm and wrap the other around her mother's waist and pull her close. Hera would rest her head on his wide chest, and it was always the happiest Melissande ever saw her.

When he stopped coming to visit them, Melissande missed him terribly, but she didn't think her mother ever really got over his loss. She stayed the same loving, caring mother she'd always been, but underneath she always seemed just a little sad. It hurt Melissande's heart to know her mother died with that sadness still inside her; she’d never be relieved of it.

Maybe, if the priests or sorcerers were right, her mother was resting peacefully with her lost family and ancestors in another realm, and maybe Melissande would be able to see her there again, one day.

But not anytime soon. She thought. Because Dean is coming to save me.

As Melissande sank onto the dingy, slightly dusty floor, an idea came to her. Maybe Dean would reach out to the king and explain what was happening. She refused to believe her father knew everything that was going on, and was simply refusing to help her, or worse, was in on the Queen's plans.

Why hadn’t she thought to tell Dean to seek him out. Had she actually feared his involvement, deep down, or had he just been out of her life for so long, that reaching out to him for help simply hadn’t occurred to her.

Before she could ponder the troubling idea for long, however, Layo’ita came sweeping grandly into the dungeon to smile wickedly at Melissande in her cage.

The silver-eyed princess jumped to her feet quickly as the queen approached the bars of the cell. The First Queen was draped in seemingly endless silks, many layers of long trains trailing behind her in the dust. Her skin was pulled so tightly over her bones that her face resembled a grinning skull as she laughed at Melissande.

“Oh, my wee little bastard fey, how beautiful you've become. You favor your whorish mother, though of course, your eyes come from your father's side of the family.”

Melissande felt her muscles stiffen at the insult to her mother, but ignored it, since she knew Layo’ita was just trying to rile her.

“You won't get away with this, witch. My father will stop you.”

The Queen's ghoulish mouth spread wide and a laugh that was almost a cackle poured out.

“You think…” More laughter. “You believe your father will stop me?”

She stepped close to the bars and spoke softly. “Trust me when I say, he's most assuredly on my side.”

Melissande’s heart balked at that idea. But she hadn't seen her father for nearly thirteen years. Did she even really know him? Until she'd been sitting in this cell, it hadn't even occurred to her to go to him for help.

Layo'ita was still chuckling as she tilted her head as though contemplating Melissande. Then she nodded like she was answering her own question.

“Why not?” She said aloud and snapped her fingers.

As fast as blinking, Melissande was suddenly in a different cell - a much darker one. There was no window here and the air was fetid and dank. It smelled like mold and old rotting things. As her eyes adjusted slowly, she could make out the stone walls, and the chains that were attached to them at various points.

All she could hear was a rhythmic drip, drip, drip of water off to her right, and the scuttling and scurrying of what had to be mice or rats of some kind.

Grateful that she wasn't attached to the chains that hung there, Melissande began walking around the long narrow cell. As she got a sense of her surroundings, she realized the room was split in two parts; a crumbling wall that was half collapsed, separated them.

She walked carefully towards the wall and then pulled up short when a voice called out from the other side.

“Who's there? Go away! Leave me alone!”

She jumped at the sudden noise, and her heart was beating out of her chest. But despite the stranger's words, she moved forward. There was something familiar in that voice, though it sounded parched and slightly raw.

She walked tentatively around to the other side of the half wall and her heart stopped all together as she saw the man huddled in the corner.

“Father?”

***

The taproom in King's Town was busy, but not stuffed full when Dean walked in. Good, he'd be able to be heard. The barman, Sterin, waved to Dean. He knew him well.

He began pouring his usual mug of ale, but Dean waved him off.

“Apologies, Sterin, I have no time for drinking tonight. I'm only here to address your patrons.” He waved at the table of a dozen or so Warriors.

Both Sterin and the Warriors grumbled, most of the Winchesters turned away from him and concentrated intently on the ale in their cups.

But he was eternally grateful that two of his friends were there. Robert and Jody were a married couple who'd trained together and then fought together very impressively for more than twenty years. They'd always maintained a stalwart support of John and Sam, though most of their fellow Winchester Warriors said they were fools.

Their friendship had kept Dean sane in the early days after the loss of his father and brother.

They were stationed at the Southernmost Winchester Keep, located on The Shield, so they rarely came this far North. He wanted to believe it was Providence that had brought them so far just when he needed them the most.

They both stood up, and Jody came forward to hug him.

“Dean! We were going to head out to see you on our way back down south. But this is better! Now we can dine together.”

“And drink.” Robert added, shaking Dean's hand and slapping him on the back.

“It's so good to see you both, but I'm afraid I have no time to eat or drink.”

Robert's face became serious and Jody's was worried.

“What's wrong, son?” Robert asked.

Dean nodded at them, but called out to the other Warriors at the long table as well.

“I need help from all of you.” A couple Winchesters looked his way, but most of them just ignored him.

“The kingdom needs you.”

That got a few more heads to turn in his direction.

One of the men he didn't know very well, he thought he was called Ketch, scowled at him. “And why should we believe anything you say, traitor.”

Robert bristled and took a step towards the snide man, but Dean grabbed his forearm. “No, it's fine.” He said in an easy tone.

“I just need you to listen.” Before he could be interrupted, he spoke quickly. “Fourth Queen Hera is dead, and her daughter, the Princess Melissande has been taken prisoner by the Guardsmen.”

He knew he'd hit the right nerve by mentioning the Guardsmen, as all the Warriors grumbled and a few actually spit as though they were warding off evil. The Warriors were not keen on the Guardsmen, feeling correctly that they'd been usurped by them.

Robert shook his head. “How can Queen Hera be dead? When did this happen? And what possible reason did those tin cans give for taking the little princess?” He asked, using the insulting nickname given to the Guardsmen because of their metal armor.

“The Queen was killed, and they took Mellie because the First Queen claims that she was the one who murdered her mother.”

There was general scoffing and disbelief among the group, including some of the other patrons.

“Mellie?” Jody asked quietly, raising a knowing brow, while the others talked amongst themselves and shared their doubts.

Dean looked down at Jody and he knew she could read him like an open book, so he was grateful to look away and return to the questions being thrown at him.

More slowly than he really had patience for, he eventually explained the whole story to everyone's satisfaction. He left out the part where he and Mellie got married. If they all lived through this he wanted her to have the ability to annul their marriage quietly and without harming her reputation. So, he simply told them that he'd tried to protect her without providing particulars.

He also left out the fact that he believed the First Queen was a powerful witch, only saying that they were unsure what the First Queen wanted with Mellie. That little detail might be too much for the credibility of the story. Also, they’d demand to know why he believed it and he didn’t want to sell Rowena out and bring her trouble. He just needed The Warriors to help him get in the door; he'd deal with the witch himself.

As the Warriors’ questions fell silent, Ketch raised one last important one.

“And where exactly is the King in all of this? I know over the last dozen years, he's taken a much more subdued role; most people agree that the attempt on his life by men he trusted completely, has made him overly cautious. But surely, in such a situation, with his wife murdered and his own child implicated, surely he'd show himself to deal with it.”

Dean nodded. “Exactly my thoughts, and yet we've heard nothing from him. He hasn't come to any of us or the Guardsmen to try and find the murderer. And in fact, no one even knows Queen Hera is dead.”

He took a deep breath. “I believe the King has been incapacitated in some way. I believe he is unable to act or to give voice to his needs.”

“Uh, Dean,” Jody raised her finger in the air. “Just one problem with that theory, Robert and I spoke with him earlier this afternoon and he wasn't incapacitated at all.”

Dean was taken aback. “Why and how did you meet with the King?”

Robert answered. “We've been after the Council for months now to sit down with us about the state of things in The Shield. There are marauders there, coming in from the sea, and killing and pillaging the villagers up and down the coast. But the council has refused every time, saying it was on us as Warriors to deal with it.”

Jody cut him off, clearly frustrated. “How we're supposed to ‘deal with it’ is beyond me. We have four Warriors to cover the entire Shield, and almost no resources. We've written endless letters that have gone unanswered, or were answered in a very unsatisfactory way. So today we finally just showed up and refused to leave until we met with the Council.”

“We met with them alright,“ Robert continued the story, “and the King was there too. We weren't expecting that. But he said he came because he was very annoyed with us. He told us that he was aware of the problem, but he was sick to death of hearing about how we were failing him once again. He was angry and certainly didn't seem incapable of voicing his concerns.”

Dean frowned, a frown that turned into a scowl as Ketch stared at him. “So, what exactly are we to believe, hmm? That the king is well and fine, but will not come to us for help because we are now despised thanks to your family? Or should we take you at your word, and believe this very intricate lie you've concocted?”

“I have spoken no lie here.” Dean said firmly, his voice dark and deep. “The Princess is being held by the First Queen, there is a plot to end her life, and it's up to us to save her. I don't know what the King's role is in all of this, but I feel in my gut that something has gone very wrong for him. I just don't understand what.”

He breathed in deeply and put every ounce of conviction into his words.

“I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Mellie will die if we don't save her. So, I am asking you all, begging you, in fact, to believe me when I say the kingdom is in trouble. Believe me when I say, my father and brother were innocent. And believe me when I tell you that our answers, and our chance to once again fulfill our oaths to protect Sanso’ye and its people, are waiting beyond the Guardsmen at the gate. Our answers lay inside the castle, they lay in saving the princess that I've already saved once.”

He clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. “And with or without you all, I will save her again.” He let his chest deflate. “But, I could sure use your swords, Winchesters.”

Robert and Jody flanked him. Jody patted his arm. “You have ours, gladly.”

Slowly a few of the others stood, and then more, and then finally all but Ketch, stood with swords at the ready.

Dean stared at the last man sitting down and Ketch stared back, studying him. Finally, he drained his cup and stood.

“It's about time someone showed those Guardsmen how it's done. I certainly won't miss out on that.”

Dean sighed and let a small smile lift the corner of his mouth.

“Alright, what's the strategy?”

***

Melissande felt her world tilt as she looked down at the man she barely recognized as her father. Surely he hadn't deteriorated so much since she'd last seen him a year ago, at the Thistle Day celebration. It was the annual anniversary of the day the Coll family supposedly sprung from the earth in a field of Thistles to be caretakers of Sanso’ye. When she'd seen him from afar, he'd been fit, hale and hearty, as he'd given the royal benediction to the week long celebrations.

Now though, chained to the wall, he was gaunt almost to the point of starvation and even in the dim light that emanated from a small lamp sitting beside him, his skin looked gray and papery.

Beside the lamp sat an empty bucket and a few piles of bones, including what was obviously the skeleton of a rat. Melissande felt her stomach lurch and she was worried she might be sick.

As she took a few steps closer to the man on the ground, he picked up some of the bones and threw them at her.

“Get away from me you shrew! I told you this won't work anymore. I know your disgusting tricks now.”

He was obviously furious, but his voice was reedy and thin as he railed at her. In spite of her confusion and fear, her heart broke for the pain she could hear in his words, and in the way he curled in on himself.

She took a step closer and he buried his head in his drawn up, skinny knees. “Can't you just leave me here to die.”

Tears fell as she knelt on the filthy floor beside him. “Papa?” She whispered and she saw him flinch like he'd been slapped.

She reached out and tentatively touched his cheek. He raised his head and stared at her with tears falling. “Layo, please stop. I don't understand your hatred. Just stop.”

Melissande shook her head. “Papa, I don't know what you're saying. It's me. I'm not…I mean, how could I be the First Queen?”

She stayed close to him, and could see the change coming over his face as an obviously very wary hope cropped up.

“Come…come closer, child.”

She got even closer to him and he inhaled deeply, sniffing at her. More confused than ever, Melissande looked at him and shook her head.

“What are you doing?”

Her father's mask of pain and fear slipped a little further into hope. “You…smell like sunshine.” He croaked, and more tears fell. “Her Duplicates always smell of rotting eggs.”

His chains rattled as he lifted his manacled hand to reach out and touch her cheek. He gasped in a watery breath.

“You're warm!” He said shakily. “Oh, beautiful girl, say you're really my sweet Melissande or just end me here, please, I beg you. I can't take having it ripped away from me again.”

“It's me, Papa. I promise. But what don't you want ripped away from you?”

“Hope.” He said, his voice creaky. “Every time she sends down a Duplicate, they work even harder to convince me that you, or Hera are here to save me. They seem to know things, and I want to believe them so badly. But no matter how real she makes them, she can't get rid of their cold skin or disgusting smell.”

Fear crept back into his gaze. “Please don't just be a better version.”

Melissande threw her arms around his neck like she had when she was little.

“No, Papa. I'm real, I'm here. Believe me.”

“Alright.” He said gruffly. “I will believe you, because I want to so badly.”

Melissande pulled back, wiping away tears and shaking her head. “But I'm so confused. Why are you down here? How long have you been down here?”

Yasa looked at her and gave a watery sigh. “How old are you now, little one?”

Melissande blinked. “Nineteen, heading towards twenty years old. Why?”

“Well, I've completely lost track of time down here. I always tried to guess based on how old the Duplicates of you looked, and I knew it had been years, but I was never sure. If you're nineteen, though, then that means I've been down here for twelve years.”

Melissande gasped. “Twelve years! How is that possible? I just saw you a year ago on Thistle Day.”

Yasa shook his head. “No, that wasn't me. it was Thistle Day twelve years ago that she did this to me.”

“Twelve years.” Melissande whispered. “My god, that was when…” She stared at her father and raised a questioning brow, Dean's face swimming in her mind's eye.

“Papa, twelve years ago, The Winchester Warrior Chieftain, John, was hanged for an attempted assassination, on you. His son was incarcerated in the mines for aiding him. But, were you even there then?”

Yasa closed his eyes. “Yes, I was there. In fact, John and Sam were only in the castle that night because I'd called them to me.”

He ran a knobby, skinny hand down his face. “I suspected Layo was plotting something, but I didn't know what, and I didn't know who I could trust in the castle. So, I went to Sam and John on my own, hidden within a long traveling cloak so no one would know it was me. I asked them to come to the castle after midnight when it was quiet, and help me work out the truth, and to meet me in the library in the West Wing.”

He sighed and let his head drop back against the damp, weeping stone wall.

“I knew Layo dabbled in a bit of magic here and there, but I had no idea she was so practiced and powerful.”

Yasa closed his eyes tightly. “When I went into the library to wait for them, she was already there, holding a knife to your throat. And when John and Sam arrived she was holding a knife to mine.”

Melissande was shaking her head as her father opened his eyes. “No, what do you mean? The Queen never kidnapped me or threatened me with a kni-”

Melissande's eyes widened. “A Duplicate.”

Yasa nodded. “Yes, and another when Sam and Dean saw me there being threatened. She needed to keep the real me alive to connect with her Duplicate, so she couldn't risk an actual knife to my throat. But Sam and John couldn't have known that.

How confused they must have been when, hours later, it seemed as if I just stood there while they were charged with trying to kill me. They must have believed I was in on their downfall, and they couldn't possibly know who to trust either. But I was locked up down here by then. Layo'ita came to my cell later, to tell me all about it and taunt me by reminding me that not only would no one ever be coming to save me, no one would even know I was gone.”

Melissande's eyes filled with tears as she thought about how hopeless that would feel.

Yasa reached out a manacled hand to wipe away the wetness from her cheek. “But that was my own fault, little one. I'd abandoned you and your mother, my other children and wives. You know, I never loved any of my wives the way I loved your mother. I married Layo’ita because it was my duty, I married Frishnia and Gayla because it was good politics. But I married your mother simply because I loved her so much.

I respected my second and third wives as the mothers to my children and good women, and tried to make sure they were happy. And Layo'ita never seemed to care when I went to visit them and my other children. And I think it was because she knew that there was mutual respect between the three of us, but no deep love.”

He shook his head. “But as soon as I married Hera it was different. She was moody and jealous immediately. I tried to honor her as my first wife, tried to respect her and her position. But it was never enough. Until one day she demanded I stop visiting the Northern Castle altogether. It led to a tremendous fight and she wept bitterly, telling me I was being cruel and heartless and showing her no regard, to treat her so.”

He sighed deeply. “I felt horribly guilty. So, I said I'd stay away from all of you. I abandoned my children, abandoned my love, and for what? To appease the heart of a traitorous, vile witch. And a year later, I was down here.”

Yasa looked deeply into Melissande’s eyes. “Oh, my little silver-eyed princess, I'm so very grateful I've had the chance to unburden my heart to you, tell you my regrets for leaving you behind. Please forgive me. And please make sure your brother and sisters know I never should have left them either.”

Melissande took her father's hand. “I understand, Papa, and I do forgive you, of course. But I won't have to tell my siblings anything. You can tell them yourself. We're going to be rescued!”

She clasped her father's hand tightly between her own. “I swear to you, you're getting out of this disgusting place and we're going to feed you warm soups and wrap you in warm wool blankets and before you know it this place will be nothing but a memory.”

Sudden, high-pitched laughter broke through the air, making Melissande jump and gasp. The Queen's shrill, disembodied voice followed it.

“Well, that’s partially true. You won't spend one more night in this place, my dear husband, I promise you that.”

Then just as before, without warning, there was the sound of a snap and suddenly both Melissande and Yasa were out of the dungeon and thrust into a brighter, but still windowless, round room.

Chains raised themselves from the wall and wrapped around Yasa’s wrists, pinning him against the stones.

Melissande felt herself being pushed along the floor as though a strong wind was at her back. She stumbled against a stone table and from out of nowhere, the First Queen appeared at her side, snapping her fingers again. Melissande found herself quickly strapped to the table, chains wrapping around her waist, and shackling her wrists and ankles to the table.

Queen Layo’ita smiled her dark, ghoulish smile. “One more sunrise for you both in just a few hours. And then, when the light is wholly eclipsed by the dark, I will be free to rise.”

Tag List

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#dean winchester au #dean winchester fantasy au #knight!dean #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fiction series #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fantasy au series #the quicksilver princess

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tightjeansjavi · 2 years

Text

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : Part 9 ‘Rescue’

A/N: this was an extremely difficult chapter to write. So much happens and I want you to all please take care of yourself after reading. If it becomes too much, if you feel like you need to step away, please do not hesitate. Your mental health comes first. ♡

Summary: You and Joel find a middle ground after his PTSD episode from the night before. It’s Spring now, and you’re finally ready to get in on the action. Joel and Tess have trained you well. Uprisings of violence have left the three of you no choice but to leave the QZ. You plan to meet with another group at an abandon bookstore to plan your escape. Upon your arrival, you realize that someone has set you up. 6 against 3. What a slim chance of survival.

~word count : 8.7k~

Warnings: age gap (m/c is 28) graphic, detailed descriptions of violence. Shoot out. Guns/knives, knife wounds, graphic descriptions of blood. Agony, unrequited love, pining, angst, confession of feelings, trauma, feelings of guilt, child loss, swearing, anger, soft ! Joel, violent ! Joel, literally this is just one cluster fuck of emotions. This is not for sensitive viewers. (+18) MINORS DNI !

Songs for this chapter:

“Rescue” by Lauren Daigle

“Shrike” by Hozier

“Sign of the Times” By Harry Styles

“evermore” By Taylor Swift

“Particles” By Nothing But Thieves

“Lift me Up” By Rihanna

“Turning Page” By Sleeping At Last”

___________________

December 25th 2020 : Boston QZ

~Joel Miller’s POV~

Joel didn’t like to believe that he was born with a violent heart. Joel liked to believe that he was still a good person, deep down. Before the world had gone to shit, before the cordyceps, before the government murdered his baby girl in his arms, before all of that. Joel Miller was a gentle, protective and caring father. Becoming a father was Joel’s proudest moment. Being a good dad was tough, sure but Joel did everything for his baby girl. It was all for her.

Joel believed that his violent heart was a result in the world as he knew it, ending. When Sarah died, all he could think about was revenge and he meant it when he told you last night, in his fury, that he was a murderer, a cold blooded killer. That’s what he was. He went to bed with the knowledge of his past, and the consequences of his actions. He lived in it every single fucking day.

Last night should have gone differently. He thought to himself. It was early in the morning. He hadn’t gotten much sleep after he stormed off. He stared at the wall, recounting his dead daughter's screams, for hours. He recounted the fear in your eyes when he snapped at you. The way you flinched when he threw the glass at the wall. How you cowered away into the comfort of the couch, like a frightened animal. Despite his violent outburst, you still tried to comfort him, to bring him down. You were so fucking gentle with him. Even after he had let his rage out on you, your only goal was to get your Joel back. He couldn’t understand why you allowed yourself to stay so calm, to comfort him after he had treated you so poorly? After he had projected his years of pent up pain, agony and grief onto you, you still showed him kindness. Joel felt that he didn’t deserve that from you. He felt that he didn’t deserve you at all.

He swore he could still feel the caress of your palm against his face, the way your eyes frantically searched his, looking for anything you could find in his darkened pupils. He subconsciously found himself brushing his fingers against his beard then. You were too fucking good for him, too good for this fucked up world.

He had left his bedroom around 2 in the morning after he had calmed down, his footsteps were quiet as he padded down the hall to your curled up form on the couch. He wanted to make sure you got a decent night's sleep, it was the least he could do after what had happened. Joel had leaned down then, gently bringing his arms around you and lifted you up, bridal style from the couch, cradling you against his chest as he quietly carried you to your room. He watched you with soft eyes as you subconsciously turned your cheek against his chest, right against his heart. You looked so peaceful in your sleep. He quietly pushed your door open with his hip bringing you to your bed and gently set you down. He grabbed the quilt at the end of the bed and draped it across your small frame. Joel had leaned down, brushing a few strands of hair from your face and left a ghost of a kiss against your forehead, his eyes closing for a moment before he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Gwen. I’m so sorry.” He whispered to himself as he looked down at you. A moment later, he had turned on his heel and willed himself to leave your room. He wanted to lay there with you, hold you close to his chest and apologize for his actions. You needed sleep, and he intended to give that to you. Joel for the first time, was actively putting your feelings above his own. He was trying to make that effort. It was the bare minimum but you deserved it. You deserved so much more than he felt that he could give you.

After he had left your room and returned to his own, and when he could no longer hear his daughter's screams ringing in his ears, Joel thought about you. His thoughts were constantly drifting to you and he wasn’t even trying to deny it anymore. What was there to deny? He had a soft spot for you. He wanted to be as close as he physically could be to you. He wanted to know everything about you. He was the flame from a lit match and you were the oxygen, keeping that flame alive. Last night was the first time you had ever truly opened up to him, and he fucking blew it. You had put your trust so deeply into him and he so easily lost sight of what truly mattered most. Last night Joel realized that you weren’t always so tough, so sure of yourself.

Last night, Joel saw a different side of you. The vulnerable, caring, and fragile side of you. You were a complex person, he realized. A complex person with deeply rooted emotions. You loved deep dish pizza and that stupid fucking Chicago Bean. You had a horse named Honey that was a Palomino, with the softest dappling, and you were the best of friends. Honey was violently murdered by raiders one winter, you were sixteen. You had the sweetest laugh that could make even the coldest man smile. You were a bubbly drunk, and ballsy wrapped up in one. You were affectionate towards those you cared about the most, and you cared so deeply for them. You held his face in your hands even when he turned violent and screamed and threw glasses at the wall and screamed some more.

These were just a handful of the things Joel recounted from last night. He could replay the entire sequence over and over in his head. All the way up to the moment where he snapped. The switch was flipped and he wished that you never had to see him that way. As he sat there in his solitude, he thought about how easy it would be for him to shut himself off from you again. To turn a cold shoulder, to make you feel as if you meant nothing to him. How easy it would be for him to push you so far away, so cruelly, you would never try to be close to him again. If Sarah was here, she’d be telling him off. “Why would you go and do that, dad?” He could hear her voice now. “Dad, I love you, but you’re an idiot. Don’t mess this up! She’s a good one. She makes you laugh, you smile the most when you’re around her.” He found himself turning his head to the side then, looking at the empty spot on the end of his bed and he imagined his little girl now. He found himself outstretching his hand and brushed it through the thin air, his face falling when he realized she was never really there, and he had just pictured her memory in his mind. He clutched the air in a tight fist before slowly bringing his hand down to rest along the rustled covers. He was trembling. “I’m not gonna let you down, baby girl. Okay? I–promise. I’ll fix this. I will. I–love you so much.” His tone was hushed and his voice had cracked towards the end.

He had sat there, staring at the empty space on his bed for what felt like hours before his senses returned. He knew then that he couldn’t push you away again. Things had gotten too personal. His walls had come tumbling down with yours in a deafening crescendo. Shutting you out permanently would in turn, tear him up inside. With his daughter’s words fresh on his mind, he knew that he had to fix this. Apologize, make it up to you somehow. If you needed space from him, he would give it to you. If you wanted to scream at him, cry in his arms, punch the wall, he would let you and in return, he would be there for you in any possible fucking way he could. However you would have him, he’d be there; indefinitely.

Joel had no plan of action whatsoever. He had no clue how you would react to him whenever you would wake up. It made him nervous. Nervous over the fact that the sheer chance that you wouldn’t ever forgive him was a real possibility. You were the most understanding individual that he had ever met but like himself, everyone including you, had their breaking point. It was inevitable to not have one and he hoped, prayed that you hadn’t hit yours.

He did what any normal, with a hint of insanity, person would do. He busied himself while you rested. He forced himself to leave his room, he checked his appearance in the cracked mirror in his bathroom, at least 100 times. Fixing his hair, splashing ice cold water in his face to calm his nerves. He was careful to be quiet despite how creaky the old floorboards were. The last thing he wanted to do was wake you. When he had come upon the shattered glass all along the floor against the back wall, he imagined the fear in your eyes again. The way you flinched and cowered away from him. He didn’t want you to wake up and be instantly reminded of his violence so he sank down to his knees, and started to pick the larger shards of glass up, carefully. He had cut his fingers a few times on some jagged pieces but he didn’t care. Minimal cuts held no power over him. The rest he picked up with an old newspaper page. When he deemed that the majority of the glass was picked up, he moved onto the next task.

He fluffed up the pillows on the couch as best he could. He then refolded the thick quilt he had draped around you hours ago, It faintly smelled of you. When he found the book you had been reading still on the floor, he bent down and picked it up. You had dog-eared the page you had left off on so he was easily able to flip to it. He skimmed over the words from the passage and it then dawned upon him, you had nearly been crying because of this damn book. This damn Heathcliff being a total jackass–who the hell talks to someone on their deathbed like that? He closed the page then and set it down on the coffee table. He moved into the kitchen then, grabbing the half bottle of whiskey and tucking it back into the cabinet. You could hold your liquor decently well, but he enjoyed seeing you get all flushed in the face, and fucking giggly. You were an adorable drunk. You looked so pretty with your lips wrapped around the rim of the glass– “focus Joel.” he said to himself. Now was not the time to allow his head to go to the gutter, no matter how easy it was to end up there. He put away the stray mugs and any other clutter found on the surface of the counter. When he was finished, he started the kettle so he could make you a cup of tea. He knew that could bring you a small bit of comfort at least.

He moved back to the couch and sank down. His curiosity surrounding the book you were reading got the best of him. He grabbed it from the coffee table and flipped back to the first page. He wasn’t a super big reader by any means, he had no reason to be. However, this was the only way he could pass the time till you would wake up. He quickly found himself immersed in the story of Catherine and Heathcliff, just like you had. Joel almost hadn’t heard the creaking of your door, or the soft sound of your footsteps padding down the hall but when he did, he shut the book quickly, tossing it on the coffee table as he sat up. Your footsteps were quiet, hesitant in a sense from how careful you were treading. His heart sank a little but he refused to lose all hope just yet.

When you had come into his view, the first thing he noticed was how exhausted you looked. He knew he was the cause of it. He took notice of how your arms were crossed over your chest. Most likely from the chill in the apartment but it made his heart sink further in his gut. What really did him in was how you averted your eyes completely from his. As if you were afraid that by just looking at him, you would set him off again. Joel knew then that how he acted last night, had severe consequences. He had emotionally damaged you.

He broke the tension then. “ ‘Mornin.” he rasped out, fiddling with his fingers as he waited for your response.

He was met with silence.

“I uh–I made you some tea. It’s on the stove, I can get it for ya if you’d like.”

He was already up from his spot on the couch then, quickly walking into the kitchen area and grabbed your favorite mug and one of the last tea bags from Frank. He poured the hot water in before steeping the tea bag. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the middle of the room. This worried him immensely.

He brought the mug over to you then, hesitantly. He stopped a few inches in front of you as he held it out to you, waiting for you to grab it.

You had slowly looked up at him then, reaching for the mug and clutched it to your chest, the warmth settled into you, but your blood still ran cold.

“Gwen–” He was cut off by you.

“Why are you doing this, Joel?” Your tone was barely above a whisper and your eyes were looking anywhere but at his.

“Gwen, what are you talking about? I just wanted to make you a cup of tea–”

“No, Joel. You know that’s not what I meant. Why do you care? Why are you suddenly being nice to me?”

He looked at you then, finding it hard to find his words in the moment so when he didn’t answer, you continued.

“I can’t–I can’t keep doing this Joel. If you’re gonna push me away, just fuckin do it. You don’t have to stand there and pretend like you care about me. I know I overstepped last night, and I'm sorry for what I did. Just save me the pain and just say whatever it is you're going to say. Rip the bandaid off, Joel. Go on, I can handle it.”

He took a deep breath then, running his fingers through his hair momentarily. He expected you to be upset with him, you had every right to be. What he didn’t expect was how you were going to deliver this painful blow to him and now his hope was beginning to dwindle.

“Gwen, I have no intentions of pushin you away like that.”

“Bullshit.” Your words stung. You were waiting for him to yell, to snap on you again but it never came.

Joel had reached out and gently grasped your shoulders in his warm, calloused hands. You had flinched from the sudden contact but didn’t move away from his touch.

“Gwen, I swear on my daughter’s grave that I ain’t gonna push you away. Doll, look at me, please?” He was nearly begging you now. “I’m so sorry for how I treated you last night. You didn’t know about Sarah. It wasn’t your fault and you didn’t deserve to deal with me like that.”

He watched as you slowly looked up at him, fresh tears threatening to spill over because you were just exhausted. Joel, and whatever it was that was going on between you, whether it be a friendship or something more, exhausted you to the bone. You knew deep down that Joel was more than a friend, Joel meant more to you than he would ever know.

“Then why did you leave me? I-I was there for you. I held you. I comforted you, and then you up and fucking left.” You pushed his hands off your shoulders then, taking a step back.

“Baby, please just let me–”

“No, Joel. Stop it. Please stop it! I’m begging you. I’m not your baby, Joel. I’m not your doll. I’m nothing to you. Please stop messing with my emotions. You’ve already taken so much from me and now? It feels like a slap to my fucking face.”

He watched as you backed away from him, creating a distance and he was afraid that this was you leaving him. You had enough and last night was your breaking point.

“Gwen, Please. Just listen to what I have to say. All of it, Okay? If you decide after that you don’t wanna trust me, that you don’t think I care about ya, then i’ll let you go, okay?” I left you last night because it was too fucking much for me to handle. I had screamed at you, thrown glasses at the wall, made you feel like a trapped fuckin animal and you still held me. It–it confused the fuck out of me. I know it sounds like some lousy excuse, but I didn’t know what else to do Gwen. I didn’t want to leave you there like that. Not after what I just put you through.” He took a small step towards you then, his eyes trained on yours, pleading with you to believe him.

“I didn’t fuckin sleep last night because I just felt so guilty and if I could take back what had happened, I would. In a fuckin heart beat, I would have.”

The realization dawned upon you that Joel had carried you to bed sometime last night. You were half awake, still buzzed but you remember his familiar scent, his warm chest, his steady heart beat. You faintly heard his voice, felt his lips against the skin on your forehead. “You carried me to bed. Didn’t you?”

“I did. When I found you curled up on the couch like that, it didn’t feel right to just leave you there. You looked so uncomfortable and it was the least I could do. I know it wasn’t much, but I wanted you to wake up in the comfort of your own bed after all that happened.”

He watched as you slowly turned your head to the side, it was obvious that you were dealing with your own inner conflict now just by your demeanor. When you finally composed your thoughts, you looked back at him once more.

“You did all that, because you care about me? Why?”

Joel thought it was obvious that he cared about you but when he really thought about it, he had thrown your emotions through the ringer on multiple occasions. He had battered you up more than he realized. So, of course you were going to question him. He hadn’t given you any reason to believe that he really did give a shit about you. Considering he kept his feelings about you to himself. He wasn’t good at expressing them, and now it was coming out all at once and he couldn’t stop it.

“Gwen, of course I care about you. I care about you too fuckin much for my own good. Remember how I acted when you had that fever? I was terrified that you weren’t gonna make it.”

“Yeah? Then you came back, took care of me and fuckin pushed me away again.”

He rubbed his fingers against his temples then as he inhaled through his nose.

“I know what I did Gwen, and I’m sorry. I thought at that moment I was ‘doin the right thing. You cared too, didn’t you? I heard it. I heard you throw your knife at the fuckin wall.”

You scoffed under your breath then. “You’re doing a real fucking terrible job at presenting a convincing case right now, Joel.”

He took a step towards you then. He watched as you took one back.

“Look me in the fuckin eyes and tell me that you didn’t care, Gwen. That night, before I met up with Tess at the rendezvous point, I told you that she and I were together. You cared, I know you did. You just did damn fuckin good job at hiding it from me.”

He watched as you narrowed your eyes at him, your hands were balled at your sides in tight fists and you were trembling.

“Tell me that you don’t give a shit about me, ‘darlin. Tell me.”

Another step forward from him and your back was nearly touching the wall.

“Don’t fucking do this to me Joel. Stop it please. You can walk away now. There’s still time for you to fucking walk away.”

“Why do you keep fuckin pushing me away?”

“Caring about you the way that I do, is only going to end up getting me fucking killed Joel. Sooner or later, this is going to catch up to us! We’re all gonna die eventually. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it to feel, to devote yourself to someone, when the fucking world could take them away from you in a heart beat!” Your back was now pressed against the wall, Joel was everywhere, all at once.

His chest was now barely touching yours, his forehead was dipped down, resting against yours. His warm breath was lightly fanning your face.

“I’d kill a thousand fuckin men before I’d allow that to happen, Gwen.”

You physically had to create some distance between you. He was too close, too real, too everything. You placed your hand on his chest to push him away and create that distance, but he wouldn’t budge.

“No Joel. Stop it. You don’t mean that. I’m not worth it, I’m not and you have Tess—”

“You don’t think you’re fuckin worth it? You’re fuckin incredible. You’re the only good left in this fuckin world, Gwen! I’ve been fighting this for so fuckin long. Do you realize that? I imagine what my life would be like if we didn’t rescue you from those raiders. If you didn’t give me this fucking scar? He gestured to the small dent on his eyebrow, the end result of you throwing a knife at his face 3 years ago. My life wouldn’t fuckin matter Gwen. I wouldn’t care if I lived another day. There was nothing left for me to fuckin live for. Then you came along, you showed up and fuckin flipped my goddamn world upside down. I hate you for it, you know that? I hate you for it because I fucking care so much—if something were to happen to you? I’m putting it all out on the fuckin table, baby. I’ve got nothing left to fuckin lose. You’re right, we live in a fucked up world. Hell, we could die tomorrow for all we know. Y’know what I’m not gonna do? I’m not gonna hide. I ain’t gonna run. I’m right fuckin here and I will wait for as long as I have to, I will wait for you.”

The weight of Joel’s desperate confession, knocked the wind straight out of you. It felt like he was depleting all the air from your lungs. Your heart was pounding against your chest, your eyes were wide and the tears that threatened to spill over, finally came. He was cupping your face in his hands before you even had the chance to wipe them away yourself.

“Joel, I can’t fucking afford to lose you. I can’t.” Your words came out in a choked out sob.

“Shh. Shh, ‘darlin. I’m right here. I ain’t goin anywhere. You’re not gonna lose me alright? I’m right here. It’s gonna take a hell of a lot to take me out anyway. I’d give ‘em hell first.” He was speaking so gently to you now. His thumbs were vigorously wiping away your tears and you finally gave in, falling into his chest as you clutched his shirt between your fists like your life depended on it. You were exhausted from fighting how you felt about this man. Your walls were crumbling down around you, while Joel was right there to hold you together. When your knees finally gave out, he scooped you up into his arms so you didn’t have to stand anymore. He held you so fucking close to him in those moments and you let it all happen; you were done fighting.

________

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Joel sat together in comfortable silence. So much had happened, so much was said and yet, you were both content just being in each other's presence. Tess had made it home safely sometime in the middle of the night. She was too exhausted to even notice you and Joel passed out on the couch together. He had draped the thick quilt over both of you, you had your calves comfortably resting in his lap and his fingers had been rubbing soothing circles into your skin before he had drifted off, not letting you go. Even if on the off chance she had noticed, she was too exhausted to care.

_________________

For the rest of the brutal winter, Joel made it his mission to continue training you. You spent many hours out in the woods together. Practicing your shooting, combat skills, and everything in between. Tess had even accompanied you on a few occasions. She taught you the dirty ways to win a fight, especially against a man. This was the first time you felt that she was viewing you as her equal.You appreciated her knowledge more than she would ever realize, and you came to find out that Tess was pretty fucking funny when she wanted to be. Everything was falling into place the way he should be. By spring, you were ready and adequately prepared to get in on the action, finally.

Spring brought new beginnings. With these new beginnings, came new challenges. The Boston QZ was arresting, prosecuting, and executing residents on the daily. Anyone that was caught breaking a rule, attempting to escape, committing treason, or acts of violence, were publicly executed every morning. You weren’t just dumping the infected dead anymore, you were dumping familiar faces into the deep pits. Times were getting tough and with every body you dumped, another new resident would come through the gates. It would only be a matter of time before Joel would get thrown in lock up, or worse. He had a few FEDRA soldiers wrapped around his finger but how long was that really going to last? On-top of everything, there were more firefly attacks. With hushed whispers of a possible overthrowing of the fascist pieces of shit that swore to protect their residents, and were murdering them instead. The QZ was never safe to begin with but now, it was turning into an active war-zone. Joel had made the decision that the three of you needed to get the hell out of dodge.

There were a few other smugglers that had the same idea as you. Joel agreed that having a larger group would increase the chances of escaping. More bodies = more lookouts = higher chance of survival. At least, that’s how he explained it. You had agreed to meet with the rest of the group at the rendezvous point: the abandoned QZ bookstore. It had enough cover in case something were to go wrong, and you always had to expect the worst.

“ ‘Alright, sundown we head out. If things get sketchy, we run. No turning back.” Joel had said hours before the escape plan would ensue. As he was talking, he was looking right at you. He was always looking at you.

Evening came quickly and you found yourself packing the essentials from your room and taking one last look of what was your home for 3 years. It was bittersweet, but there was no time for emotions, you had to get out fast. Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you took one look at your barren bed and closed the door behind you. Little did you know, this would not be your last time in the apartment.

Joel and Tess had been loading up their guns at the kitchen table when you had walked in, your gun and knife tucked securely in their holster. When Joel had sensed your presence, he looked up for a moment and gave you a reassuring nod. His eyes told you that everything was going to end up being okay, and you believed him.

The three of you headed out of the apartment and onto the streets, quietly. Joel in front, you in the middle and Tess behind you. The abandoned bookstore was only about a 10 minute walk. It was no stroll, however. You still needed to be on high alert. The three of you moved silently through the shadows of the alleyways, backing yourself into a tight corner when a FEDRA truck would drive by with foot soldiers.

You had made it to your destination without getting caught. Joel had quietly pushed open the door with his shoulder, his gun was drawn and he looked around the expanse of the building, his eyes searching for any moment and when he deemed it safe, he ushered you and Tess inside, closing the door behind them. The bookstore was nearly destroyed. There were bookcases knocked off, shattered glass, books strewn about. Like most of the buildings, nature had begun to take over once more. There was moss throughout and long winding vines stretching up towards the half collapsing roof. You had your gun drawn now but couldn’t help but walk through the wreckage, glancing at what books were left along a mostly untouched shelf.

Minutes had gone by and there was no sign of the rest of the group's arrival. Something was wrong. You could all sense it and Tess was the first to speak up.

“Joel, something doesn’t feel right. Something’s off. They should have been here already someone probably fuckin set us up.”

Joel had kicked at a piece of rotten wood on the floor then, muttering under his breath.

“We’ll give it another minute and if they don’t show up, we’ll book it, alright?”

Something was definitely very off.

Another minute had passed and no sign of the group’s arrival.

“Alright, Joel we gave it another minute and now—”

Tess was cut off by the sound of debris crunching under heavy padded boots and Joel was already raising his gun from the intrusion. He looked to his left then, where you were standing, gun drawn and he motioned for you to get behind the bookcase.

“Gwen.” He hissed. “Get down. Get behind the bookcase, NOW.” His tone was urgent, but his eyes were focused on where the sound had come from. You ducked behind the bookcase then, crouching down with your gun held steadily at your chest, your finger on the trigger and then you heard familiar voices. The unfriendly kind. Robert’s fuckin henchmen.

“Joel, Tess.” The man had paused then. They had 6 men with them, heavily armed. “Where’s that pretty little thing you've been hiding away, Miller? What’s her name again?”

He snapped his fingers, making it seem like he couldn’t remember your name.

“Ah, Gwendolyn! That’s it. She’not hanging around with your sleazy ass anymore?”

“It’s Gwen.” You and Joel had simultaneously whispered out.

“What was that?” The man mused. “Gwen. Right, got it.” He took a step to the left, Joel’s eyes and gun followed him.

“So, she ain’t here then? Not hiding in the shadows waiting to snipe us out? Gwen, sweetheart, you hiding from us?” He sing-songed. It sent bile rising up your throat and your finger hovered over the trigger once more.

“She ain’t here. What the hell are you doin out here, James?” Joel spoke calmly, his gun still trained on him, watching him closely.

“Oh? She’s not. Well, ain’t that a shame.” He kicked over the standing bookcase that was a few feet from where you were hiding. The crashing sound nearly made Joel flinch and you had sucked in a shaky, low breath.

“Y’know Miller, it’s funny you’d ask. We caught wind that you wanted to get the hell out of dodge. Thought to myself, Joel Miller? On the run? There’s no way. Then one of your so-called “friends” rats you out. Say’s that you’re meeting up here tonight, and you’re leaving the QZ.” He kicked a book on the floor then and it landed with a thud, right in front of you.

“Can you imagine the look on Robert's face when we told him that you were ditchin?” He chuckled.

“I could give less of a fuck what Robert had to say about it.” Joel was quick to respond back.

“Course you could give less of a fuck, Miller. You thought you could just slip on out of here without him knowing? Never took you to be a fool. So here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna put the guns down. We don’t wanna fight. You’re gonna give us the pills that you owe us and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“If we don’t?”

James smirked then, looking over at the fellow smuggler. “We kill you both and take the girl. I know she’s hiding here somewhere, Miller. You couldn’t protect her forever. Robert’s been askin about her. He’d be pretty pleased if we showed up with the pills and her. Would definitely brighten his day.”

“I ain’t got any pills on me James. My guy got thrown in lock up and they’re probably gonna kill him tomorrow. You go back and tell Robert that he’s gonna have to find someone else.”

“Damn, you don’t have anything on you Miller? The hell happened? You’ve gone soft or somethin?” He had taken a step closer to the still-standing bookcase and Joel followed, he already had sweat beading on his forehead from the intensity of the situation, his blood was pounding in his ears.

“I don’t have shit on me James. We haven’t made a run in fuckin weeks cause of FEDRA. Look, I can offer you some of our supplies and ammo but that’s about it.”

You had slowly moved from your crouched position. From your angle, you’d have a good chance at taking one of his men out, but you’d have to be quick about it. It was risky, but you knew that if you didn’t at least try, the three of you were not going to make it out of there alive. Now was your chance to prove just how lethal you could be.

James sighed then. “You really never make this easy, huh? Well Joel, Tess, it’s been nice knowing ya—”

He was cut off by a gunshot, your gun. You had peeked around the side of the bookcase, aiming your gun at the one man that was closest to Tess. You breathed in, exhaled out, remembering Joel’s instructions as you released the trigger—BANG. The sound of the man dropping with a sickening thud was enough to have everyone turn in the direction of the gunshot.

“You’re a fuckin liar Miller and you’re gonna die for it—” more gunshots echoed and the chaos ensued.

Tess had taken out one man before she crouched behind a bookcase further from you. Bullets were flying everywhere, and now all three of you were hiding in opposite areas of the building. Popping up to shoot before crouching back down. You could only hide for so long.

You peeked around the corner once more, taking aim at one of the men once more, having a good shot at his leg. Before you could pull the trigger, you were harshly yanked back by your hair, the gun was ripped out of your grasp and thrown on the floor before you were slammed into the mossy pavement. You could faintly hear Joel yell for you through the ringing in your ears. He couldn’t reach you from where he was crouched. He couldn’t protect you. He was helpless.

You could feel blood trickling down your forehead, a kick to your gut from the heel of James boot sent you gasping for air, squeezing your eyes shut from the intense pain that knocked into you. Another kick and you were seeing stars. Surely, you’d have some angry bruises blooming on your skin.

“Fuckin knew you were here the entire time bitch.” He spat, yanking you up once more by your hair. “Think you’re so clever huh? What’re you gonna do now, sweetheart. Joel can’t fuckin save you.”

He had thrown you down to the pavement once more before he was on top of you, holding you down with his weight while you screamed and fought back with everything you had left in you. Your screams shattered Joel to the core, and he was left seeing only red behind his eyes.

In your fight for survival, you had grasped the hilt of your blade from your holster and yanked it out, in the process you had sliced James arm and sent him falling back, giving you the leverage you needed to get yourself up. You threw yourself onto him, jabbing your blade into his chest with a yell of pure rage. You heard his groans of agony as you twisted the blade deeper. Watching the life drain from his violent eyes before you yanked the blade from his chest and fell back against the pavement. In your rush of adrenaline, you hadn’t realized that he had his knife out and it was now pierced through your abdomen. White hot pain shot through your nerves as you took harsh breaths, crying out in agony from the pain you were feeling as you grasped the hilt of the blade lodged in your flesh.

Tess had seen you go down first and she shot up from her crouched position, taking aim at the last of Robert’s men, pulled the trigger and shot him in the head, between his eyes. She didn’t even wait to see him drop before she was rushing over to you. When she saw Jame’s blade sticking out of your gut, the blood pooling around the wound, she yelled.

“Joel.”

“JOEL!”

She was crouched beside you now grabbing your hand so you couldn’t pull the blade out.

Joel had rushed over to you then, pushing over what was left of the bookcase and when he found you laying on the concrete, gasping and crying out, and Tess holding your hand, he had images of Sarah. The blood pooling around her shirt, her gasps and cries—

“No. No. No. NO!”

He yelled, dropping to his knees beside you

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You’re okay Gwen. You’re okay baby we’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here!”

You were struggling to breathe and both Joel and Tess’s voices sounded fuzzy and far away. You only had a matter of time before it would be too late.

“Tess, help me! We have to get her up!”

He was already reaching for you then, wrapping his arm around your shoulder so he could lift you up. The movement caused the blade to shift and it sent another wave of pain as you cried out.

“I know baby I know. I have to get you up! I have to! Look at me baby, look at me! I’ve got you okay? I have to get you up!”

He brought your arm around his shoulder then before he hoisted you up into his arms, while Tess ripped off her jacket so she could apply pressure to your wound, there was so much blood already.

Joel was in a fury as he held you against his chest and let Tess lead the way out of the building as he ran like hell, each step he took caused you more pain and your eyes were barely open now, as you struggled to hold on.

“Look at me baby! Don’t close your eyes! Keep looking at me! I’m right here—I’m right here please please hold on baby! Please!” He was desperately pleading with you then as he quickened his pace.

“Baby I got you, I got you please please stay with me, Gwen! Stay with me!” His tone became more desperate, more raw as your eyes had fluttered shut by the time they had reached the apartment.

His jacket was now soaked in your blood as he kicked the apartment door open, Tess had rushed to the table, knocking everything off it as he gently laid you down on the surface.

“Get me the fuckin alcohol and first aid kit! Hurry, Tess!”

He worked fast at applying pressure to your wound, his hands were wet with your blood and he was fighting back his tears. He couldn’t lose you, not like this. “It’s going to be okay baby, I promise! I’m going to fix you right up! Open your eyes, Gwen! Please!” He applied more pressure to slow down the bleeding and you shot up, grabbing his hand and squeezed down hard as you screamed.

“I know baby I know, stay with me! I can’t take it out yet baby I’m sorry! I’ll make the pain go away, I promise! I’ll make it go away!” He watched as you fell back against the table once more just as Tess came back with the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the first aid kit and a few towels to use to pressurize the wound.

“Tess I need you to fucking hold her down okay? She’s gonna move when I take this out and then you get those towels on her right after, okay?!”

Tess had nodded, she was far calmer than Joel in those moments and thank god, because if she wasn’t, there’s no way he was gonna get through this.

“Okay baby I’m going to take it out now okay? It’s going to hurt for a minute but you gotta trust me! Count with me, 1-2-3!—” he had quickly yanked the blade from your abdomen then. The scream you let out would forever haunt his dreams as Tess held you down, you could make out her face slightly through your pain and deliria. Her eyes showed fear, fear that you could die on this table tonight.

Joel had tossed the blade to the side then as he grabbed the towels and pressed them down hard onto your abdomen, Tess took over then and he held your face in his bloodstained hands. He was covered in your blood and it made him feel sick. “Baby, baby. Hey, baby. Open your eyes dammit, please. Your eyes are so beautiful, Gwen. Please let me see them again.” He stroked your cheekbones gently, tears running down his face. “We’re gonna fix you right up. Gonna stop the bleeding and stitch you up, okay?” He had kissed you then, for the first time. He kissed you with tears wetting his cheeks, leaving salty streaks in their wake. He could taste the blood on your lips from the gash on your head, but he kissed you as if he could breathe life back into you from his lips alone.

“Joel if we can’t slow down the bleeding—”

“Don’t fuckin talk like that Tess! Don’t. She’s going to be okay, we're gonna fix her up. We’re gonna save her! She can’t fuckin die like this dammit. She can’t!”

With the strength that you had left in you, you slowly reached your hand up brushing your fingers against his face, your touch was there and gone as fast as it came. His face fell when your arm dropped to the side of the table, your fingers outstretched and unmoving.

“No. No. No. You are not dying like this dammit! Don’t fuckin leave me, please!”

He moved the blood soaked towels off of your wound and onto the floor. The bleeding had stopped enough for him to stitch you up, but he had to be fast.

“Tess, get me the needle and thread!”

He wiped his hands off quickly then as Tess grabbed the needle and thread, they didn’t have a lighter to sterilize it but there was no time to think about those things.

“I need you to hold her hand and talk to her, okay? Just fucking talk to her and tell her that everything is going to be okay!”

“Joel—”

“No Tess, fucking do it, please!”

She grabbed your hand then, giving it a squeeze while Joel had started to stitch your wound up, she used her free hand to feel for your pulse then. It was there, but it was faint. You were barely just holding on. She had crouched down then brushing some hair from your face gently, seeing the matted blood from the gash on your head. She leaned down and whispered. “Hey, I know you love him, Gwen. So please, do us both a favor and don’t die tonight. He needs you. I know he does. You don’t deserve to go out like this. You’re gonna be okay. You’re a fighter, remember? Always have been”

Joel had started to stitch you up then, he was no expert but he worked fast despite the horrors that he was facing in his mind. This situation was all too similar to what he went through with losing Sarah. Except, this time he actually had a chance to save you, and he would be damned if he didn’t try.

You had faintly squeezed Tess’s hand, you heard what she said, part of it, and you were going to fight like hell.

When Joel had finished stitching you up, he looked up at your face to see if there were any signs that you were still there. He grabbed the rubbing alcohol and applied it around the wound before he ripped open a thing of 17 year old gauze and placed it down on top of the wound along with a bandage. Finally, he grabbed the bottle of penicillin. If the blood loss didn’t take you out, infection certainly would. He injected the needle into the vein in your arm then and looked at Tess before he sunk back into the chair with his face in his hands.

“Joel. Hey, Joel. She’s breathing. She squeezed my hand. I think she might have heard me.”

He looked up at her then, feeling exhausted and defeated but he willed himself to stand and be by your side once more. He pulled the chair back before he sat down, grabbing your outstretched hand and brought it up to his face. He pressed a soft kiss to the outside of your palm, interlocking his fingers with yours and squeezed. It was a gentle reminder to you that he meant it when he said he wasn’t going anywhere. He would be right there for you, always.

Tess hadn’t let go of your hand either, she used her free hand to grab the rubbing alcohol and a gauze pad. He watched in disbelief as she poured the liquid onto the gauze and gently dabbed it on the gash along your head and wiped the matted blood away.

Joel and Tess sat there with you till you showed early signs of recovery, your chest was beginning to rise and fall at a normal rate. Your breathing was still faint but it was there and sure beacon that you weren’t done yet.

Joel had gently lifted your body from the table, bringing you over to the couch and set you down before he draped the blanket across you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your head, closing his eyes for a moment before he had pulled back.

Tess was already disposing of the bloodied towels and your shirt. The table looked like a crime scene, your blood was everywhere and when Joel came to help, she stopped him then.

“Hey, it’s okay. I got this, really. Go and be with her. She needs you the most right now.”

He reluctantly agreed, giving Tess a slight nod before he walked over to the couch and slowly sank down, he lifted your head gently so you could rest it on his lap, his movements were extremely slow and gentle as he didn’t want to accidentally hurt you. He noticed your dried blood all over his hands still, a painful reminder of what had happened.

______

Tess had joined him then, she sat across from him on the coffee table. Her hands were stained with your blood as well. Both parties were silent then, replaying what had happened in their minds before Tess had finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“Y’know, I should have never underestimated her. She took that first shot with zero hesitation.”

He slowly looked over at her then, brushing his knuckles across your forehead gently.

“I should have been there to save her, Tess. I wasn’t. I failed her.”

“Joel, no. You didn’t fail her. You couldn’t control this. Neither of us could. She fought like hell.”

He was too exhausted to argue and in a way, he knew Tess was right. He didn’t fail you. He taught you well. You protected them with that first shot. You knew that James was going to kill them if you waited any longer. So you took that risk, even if it meant you would get hurt. You didn’t care, your instincts kicked in and you went with it, guns blazing and fire in your heart.

“I understand now. I didn’t before, but I understand why you care about her so much, Joel.”

“Tess—”

“No, just listen to me alright? Let me say this. You need to hear it. I knew from the beginning that you saw something special in her. I didn’t understand why. I mean hell, she threw a knife at you man and you decided, hey, let’s take her in. She tried to kill me but we can’t just leave her out here like this. Then, I saw the way you would look at her. It wasn’t noticeable at first and half the time I thought I was imagining it. Then I’d catch you at random moments, she’d walk through that door and I’d see that smile. It only comes out when she’s around. You only call her doll. You’ve never called me that and I just started to notice all the little things. I was jealous, Joel. I was because all I had ever wanted was for you to look at me that way. Then, I thought I had you when we were at Bill and Frank’s. For a split second, I selfishly thought you would have forgotten about her. How silly of me, right? She’s hard to forget.”

“Tess, why are you tellin me all of this?”

She sighed then, rubbing her palms along her torn jeans before she looked at him, with a soft, knowing smile.

“Because I’m letting you go, Joel.”

He frowned slightly then as he looked at her. He wasn’t expecting her to be like this, certainly not now. Tess still meant something to him. She always would, but he loved her in a different way. The way he felt for you was on a whole other spiritual plane that even he himself couldn't fully explain.

“I’m letting you go because you were never mine in the first place. Not really. You were always hers. It just took me a while to realize it.”

Joel had reached for her hand then, placing his over hers and gave it a squeeze. He had fresh tears threatening to spill over then.

“I’m sorry I could never love you the way that you deserved.”

She placed her other hand over his then, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles gently.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that Joel. Just love her the way that she deserves, okay?”

He nodded then as he glanced down at your sleeping form. You weren’t out of the woods just yet, but with Joel by your side, and Tess close by, you had something to hold onto and live for.

“I will, Tess. I promise you I will.”

CHAPTER 10:

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i-trash-about-things · 8 months

Text

a.n.: I can't believe this took me 6 freaking months to write. It definitely doesn't live up for the hype, but for some reason the words just wouldn't flow. In the mean time, I graduated! Actually went to prom! It kinda sucked, I really don't see the hype behind it!

Anyway, enjoy– and thank you for the patience to those that were interested in this story. If you're still interested by the end of this part– well, you'll know for yourself if there will be more lol ;)

Part 1!

Multiple perspectives (3rd and 1st person); Henderson!Reader; GN!Reader; use of Y/N; Billy Hargrove Survived (but he isn't a racist piece of shit); Everyone might be OOC, sorry lol; swearing; light violence; mostly fluff; English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn’t make sense :p; no beta, we die like Vecna should’ve

4.5k words.

Third Time's The Charm.

Dustin’s day has been good, in his less than humble opinion.

School sucked the same as always, but hey! Everything other than that was actually pretty awesome!

His older sibling popping by on a whim wasn’t a rare occasion, far from it. When they first moved to college, he cried the whole day thinking he would only see them on Christmas, and now it’s like they never moved in the first place!

Well, maybe it’s because of the Upside Down thing and how they almost died about a million times in the last 4 years, but Dustin liked to believe it’s because they just love him very very much.

But, one thing actually did change.

Eddie.

“Dustin, my man, my favorite nerd, what a sight to the sore eye you are right now!”

Speak of the devil.

Him and Eddie have known each other for a while. I mean, how could he not when the metal-head has been his sibling's best friend for almost all his life?

And with the time to get used to each other, plus Dustin’s natural attentiveness and attention to detail, he can read this guy like the cheap rip-off comic of spider-man he is.

Eddie wants something.

“Is that a new upgrade to your walkie? Dude, that looks sick, what does it do?”

“Nothing, it’s just a normal radio actually.”

“Oh.”

A snort leaves his nose. Dustin shakes his head, setting the walkie talkie on the library table before looking up to his friend.

“You really aren’t subtle, my friend.”

“First things first: how dare you. Secondly-” Eddie pushes the nearest chair back, giving him enough space to sit on the old table. The notebook under him crinkles, but he just pushes it aside, clearly in too much of a rush to care about a random person’s notes. “I need your help.”

“If it’s about the whipped cream on Lucas’ backpack and his basketball shoes, it’s too late. The operation is already in motion.”

“Operation- wait, did you put whipped cream on Sinclair’s shoes?”

“What? No I didn’t. You didn’t hear that from me.”

“Mhm.” Eddie just sends Dustin a look, raising an eyebrow with just a very done expression on his eyes, before shaking his head. “You know what, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

He leans closer, likes he’s about to tell the biggest secret of his life. The notes beneath his butt crumble further.

“It’s about your sibling.”

“Y/N? What they have to do with anything?”

“I’m gonna ask 'em to prom.”

If Dustin were drinking something, he would’ve done a spit take right now.

“WHAT?!”

“SHHHH!” The other school library attendees shush him, all glaring in their direction. Dustin flushes a little, curling into himself, but Eddie doesn’t even flinch.

“I want to take your older sibling to prom, Henderson. Like, real bad.”

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“That’s my sibling!”

“And my best friend! So??”

“So–” Dustin sputters. How does he even respond to that?!

Don’t get him wrong, of all the people he could’ve picked to compete for your hand, Eddie would always be his champion. His two favorite people??? Sign him up!

Doesn’t mean his into it, tho!

“Why?!”

“What do you mean ‘why’?! You’ve ever met ‘em?! They're the coolest most beautiful, and funniest person I’ve ever known! Why wouldn’t I want to take them to prom?”

“No, not that- why the change? I thought you wanted to go with Chrissy??”

That gets a reaction out of him.

Eddie flinches, looking away. He passes a hand through his hair, half hiding himself beneath the brown curls.

“Chrissy… She’s…”

Dustin does not like the hesitation. The kid crosses his arms over his chest, squinting up at Eddie with distrust.

“Look, I’m all for you going after my big sibling–”

“Really? That wasn’t what it looked like two seconds ago.”

Dustin squints further, frowning, and Eddie groans.

“Just keep going.”

“As I was saying, I don’t mind you taking my big sibling to prom… If you actually mean it.”

It’s his turn to frown, a mirror of Dustin’s expression, but in confusion and a little bit of offense.

“What? Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“You were just drooling over Chrissy, like, two days ago! I get you getting rejected, but don’t use them as a rebound, dude!”

“What?!”

“SHHHHH!” Strike two, the people around them shush them both again. Dustin doesn’t flinch this time, both him and Eddie a bit too enthralled in the topic at hand.

“How could you say that?! You know how much I care about Y/N!”

“I know that, but I also know how much they cares about you.”

“What does that has to do with anything?”

“Uh- Literally everything? What, you think you can just go and ask them all willy nilly to go to prom with you like it’s no big deal, and they won’t feel like it’s a big deal? Thye care, dude! What you say matters to them!”

Something in that makes Eddie pause, breath hitching on the tip of his tongue. He knew that, of course… Didn’t he?

His mind flashes back to the three years ago, just in the middle of prom season.

“Y/N Henderson, you did not–”

“Oh but I did! I did, despite it all!”

Eddie feels the bright afternoon sun on his back, the ever warming spring air making his hair and their hair flutter in the wind.

Today has been a weird day. His friends all seemed either jittery or smug, like they know something he doesn’t, a joke he didn’t get the punchline yet.

But the weirdest thing? His best friend wasn’t waiting for him by his parking spot.

At the end of class, he found a pretty envelope on his locker, attached to it a blue little flower– one of the few he recognizes. Forget-me-not’s.

“6 years sure go by fast. We’ve been through a lot in that time, didn’t we? And we will go through a lot more shit, knowing us like I do.

I was hoping you’d indulge me on a little game, just for old times sake.

Check the supply closet closest to you.”

From then on, he went on a surprisingly elaborate scavenger hunt. Passing through closets, to bathrooms, even checking in with his friends when the little clues told him to. Surely enough, each one handed him a new letter, and each one had a soft and excited smile on their lips.

After a good half hour of running around the school like a headless chicken, Eddie had accumulated enough clues to fill both his pockets and enough flowers for a small bouquet. The last letter sits on his hand as he dashes around the halls, a big smile on his lips.

“Ok, I promise this is the last one– for real this time, I swear.

This had been a rough year on you, but I was hoping to send it off with a bang. One last middle finger to the world before I have to leave you behind to fend for yourself in the lion’s den.

So, Edward Munson, meet me by the woods, in our usual spot.”

“Henderson, you absolute maniac!” Eddie all but jumps over the picnic table, practically throwing himself on his best friends arms. They don't even blink, only opening up and holding him. Firm, steady and warm. Their laughter feels like electricity and care all at once over his skin, and he breaks into goosebumps.

“Did you like it? Had any fun?”

“Hell yeah I did! How long have you been planning this, dude?!”

“Ah, who cares about that?” They flick their wrist, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. Eddie’s way too used to their dismissive and nonchalant nature at this point, so he just laughs and hugs them close again.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He can’t see, but their smile softens. The hold on him tightens, and they buries their face into the mess of his hair.

“You’re you. That’s more than enough.”

After a beat, they finally pull away from the other. Eddie doesn’t even questions at their dazed gaze, used to it at this point, even if he never truly knew the reason behind it. He squeezes their shoulders, still a little incredulous at the situation. Taking his little moment of silence as an opportunity, Y/N steps back and takes one last flower from their pocket. It’s a little bit beaten up after being squashed in the hug, but it makes Eddie’s heart feel tight anyway.

“Look, I know this hasn’t been an easy year for you. You’ve been through a lot of shit, dealing with shitheads like Carver and Hagan, and that you didn’t graduate, but… But I wanted to make the end a good memory, you know? Eat junk food, dress fancy for once in our lives, pretend that we’re the protagonists for once, you know?”

They take a deep breath, eyes locked on the little flower on their hand. It’s impossible to lift their head and finally gaze into the eyes of their best friend. The love of their life.

Bah, call 'em dramatic. They're already way too deep into this cheesy bullshit to care.

“So. Eddie. Eds. Angel. Would… You, maybe… Like to… Gotopromwithme??”

Well that was smooth.

Still, it doesn’t seem like he cares about their awkward stumbling.

Instead, he just pulls them into one more hug, laughing like a maniac.

“Yes! Of course I’d like to, you dumbass! You’re my best friend!”

And those words make their heart races and breaks, all at once.

They let the little blue flower fall to the ground, unbothered by the numbness on their fingertips.

“I know. You’re my best friend too, Eds.”

Eddie shakes his head, locks brushing against his nose at the intensity. This is a crisis for another time.

“I know, believe me. But I’m telling the truth! I don’t care about Chrissy, I legitimately want them to be my date!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, feeling the genuine longing in Eddie’s tone. It’s a surprising match to his siblings, every time they talks about Eddie. That lingering bitter-sweetness in the end of the sentence, the longing in each and every word. He’s heard them rant and ramble, on and on, about the metal-head more time than Dustin feels like counting, he knows that tone. It’s a perfect match.

So, he sighs, leaning his head back against the library’s chair to the point his cap almost falls off.

“Fine, I’ll help.”

“Yes!”

“SHHHHH!”

…

Today was… Weird.

Maybe it was the way the sun was beating down my face, too hot for a spring day, maybe it was the fact that the 7-11 I passed by didn’t have my favorite slushy flavor, but something just seemed… A little off today. Like someone just tilted the world a little bit to the left.

I take a long drag from the cigarette between my lips, watching the shining sun from my spot by my car. Sitting beside me is none other than Billy Hargrove, the same glare up at the sky as mine.

It’s always funny hanging out with Billy by the school’s grounds. We used to beat each other up in this same parking lot, about two years ago! And now look at us, sharing a can of coke beneath the spring sky like two dads waiting for their kids after football practice.

“I can hear your brain about to cook up some weird shit to say, Henderson. Please keep it to yourself.”

I don’t even blink at his harsh tone, putting a sugary sweet expression and leaning to lay my head on his shoulder.

“Awn, I know you love my commentary.”

He’s quick to brush me off, with not nearly as much strength as he used to a few years ago.

“I’d rather hear the screams of children.”

All I can do is snort, laughing slightly before taking a sip of the can between us.

Billy is one of the only people acting somewhat normal today, same snarky responses that once made me lunge for his throat and same pissed off frown.

He’s also one of the few people I trust the most, funnily enough. What can I say, he’s seen the worst in me and somehow still sticks around- probably because I’ve seen the worst in him too, but still. Maybe that trust is what made me press the halfway burnt cigarette into the ground and turn to look back at him.

“Hey, dude?”

“Hm.”

“Is it just me or is everyone kinda off today?”

And to my surprise, he doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he raised his own cigarette to his lips, taking a long and deep drag.

“Nope, just you.”

“Pfft, weird, something tells me your lying?”

“Something? What, like voices in your head? Damn, I knew you were crazy, Henderson, but this is new ground.”

“Billy.”

“… Hmph.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, sunglasses tilting down just enough to see the look he sends me. I shake my head and he relaxes. There’s a small pause after that. He flicks the cigarette ash off, before glancing to me again.

“Look, it’s nothing you have to worry about, ok?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his words, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Last time you said that, you were possessed by a god damned spider monster thing.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m not. So chill out.”

Isn’t he sweet?

I chew on the inside of my cheek, breathing in slowly before letting out a long long sigh.

“Fine.” A pause. But then I turn to look at him again, with the most serious expression I can. “But if you are possessed again-”

“Fuck off.”

“Pfft-”

The loud ringing of the school bell quickly brings our attention back to the front doors of Hawkins High. Like clockwork, they open and the sea of teenagers roll out, flooding the parking lot. My eyes drift between faces, looking for any sign of my favorite club, but the first thing I catch is a familiar cap and a mess of red hair.

Dustin immediately runs up to me, his cap hitting me on his attempt at a dive hug. Max is not so far from him, but instead of the affection attack she just flips Billy the bird… which he quickly reciprocates, smirking.

The two types of siblings.

“Hey, Junior.” The sarcastic and rougher edge to my voice quickly melts off, turning to the normally sweeter and more relaxed tone reserved only for my little brother. Dustin immediately turns to me, smiling like he always does- but, of course, there’s something off.

“Hello there, older sibling figure.”

… ok.

I just let out a chuckle, a little weirded out. See? It can’t be just me, everyone’s acting all skittish for some reason. Did I miss the memo?

Max pushes Dustin’s cap over his eyes before he has the chance open his mouth again, her eyes literally screaming for him to shut up. Then, she turns to me.

“If he hurts you, tell me. I’ll kick his ass.”

“… What???”

The hell’s going on?

Dustin clears his throat, pushing his hat back and sending Max a half hearted glare.

“As I was about to say- Eddie told me to give you this.”

From the depths of his many pockets, he pulls a… letter? A note, better said, scribbled in a chicken scratch of a writing I know way too well.

Before I can open it, he quickly pulls me so I look at him again.

“I’m gonna catch a ride with Max today I’ll see you later ok bye-”

And he practically drags Max to Billy’s car… which she weirdly let’s him do. I look back at the blonde next to me… and he doesn’t even blink at the interaction, stepping on the rests of his cigarette before turning away from me without a word.

What…. the hell.

As the familiar camaro drives off the parking lot, leaving me to my lonesome by my truck, I glance down at the note in my hands. Crumpled notebook paper, with the little bits used to wrap around the spiral still attached, and that familiar handwriting.

After a huff of amusement, I open up the letter.

“Greetings, dear adventurer! It is I, Eddie the Pardoned (we really need to workshop that title).

This is your formal request to join in on an adventure through the ever changing land of Hawkins High school. Walk across the mighty and dangerous hallways where jocks once slammed our faces into lockers, or traverse into the terrifying lands we call the gym showers!

Follow the riddles and clues, and if you’re lucky, the gates of a whole new adventure shall open to those with brave and worthy hearts.

Good luck.”

“Dramatic dork.” I mumble beneath my breath, but the smile on my lips can only be described as disgustingly smitten.

I look over the note again, flipping it between my fingers. Surely enough, more writing in the back.

“Those who trail my path are the best liars, but also the most emotional of artists. The many nights you’ve spent between my walls, you were never quite yourself. Oh, wow, he really wasn’t kidding on making riddles, huh?”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle, raising my eyes from the paper in my hands and looking around the parking lot. There’s a lot of people walking around right now, most speeding to get home after a long long Friday, but my eyes don’t catch a single hint of anyone using the familiar Hellfire shirt. Which is definitely weird, they’re normally the first ones to leave the school. Still, no sign of Jeff, or Bryan, or Gareth, much less Ed.

I look back down to the riddle.

“The many nights you’ve spent between my walls” So it’s a place, then? One I’ve been before, if Eddie isn’t being a little shit and using “you” because he thinks it sounds better.

“Those who trail my path are the greatest liars, but most emotional of artists.” Greatest liars? And most emotional of artists. Well, if it’s a place, related to art, then the art room? But then why the lying?

“You weren’t quite yourself.” Wasn’t… quite myself. Hm.

A place, probably one at school since I doubt he would’ve gone so extra as to go around the entire city, related to art and lying. “Wasn’t quite yourself.”

…

Wait, the drama club?

Art of lying- could he mean acting? A room related to acting in which I’ve been to before.

The drama club, at D&D nights!

My feet are moving before my brain is, crumpled up note being carefully stuffed into my pants pockets.

…

Not far…

“The bird has taken flight, over.”

“Dustin, will you stop with the codenames?! Just- Just get into position! Over!”

…

How many damn riddles can this man write??? I must’ve collected more than twelve by now!

There’s a small collection of notes in my left hand, my pockets too filled up to stuff any more of them without damaging. My shoes squeak against the floors of the mostly empty school, echoing in my ears as I run from room to room, classroom to classroom.

I swear, If this is some sort of elaborate prank, I’m going to kick Eddie’s ass until Halloween comes.

I let out a groan leaning down to reach another, stuck beneath my– well, not mine, it hasn’t been mine since I graduated– seat at the iconic Hellfire Club lunch table. When I turn to the back, I’m surprised to see there isn’t a riddle this time, no little set of verses to greet me. So, after a small hum of interest, I fold it open.

“If you’ve reached this point of your quest, fair knight, I’m proud to tell you your prize awaits you! (Because I’m not like SOME people who do FAKE OUTS THREE TIMES IN A ROLL)

All that’s left is for you to come and get it. Your king awaits in our usual spot.”

-E.M.

“Pfft– my king?” I can barely pay attention to the soft laugh that leaves my lips, chest too warm and filled with cotton to notice. Dork.

Still, I just set the note with the rest, walking to the nearest exit with a smile on my lips.

I’m still have no idea what Eddie is planning with all of this. Despite the dozen plus notes, he hasn’t gave me a single of hint for the reason of this scavenger… Hunt.

…wait.

I mean, it’s not– it’s not possible, right?

He was talking about inviting Chrissy less than a week ago!

Nah, nah, yeah, it’s not… He wouldn’t. Not me, anyway.

…

Well I just made myself sad.

A groan leaves my lips as I shake my head, hair flowing around with the motion before bouncing and stopping, strands sticking to my eyelashes. Enough with the self pity. I’m better than this. Whatever it is that Eddie has planned to me is going to be awesome.

The hallways echoes with my steps, the sound of my combat boots squeaking in the shiny tile flooring being the only sound as I leave the school. It’s late afternoon at this point, the sun starting to set as everything is painted golden. The walk through the woods is longer than I remember, the late spring wind ruffling through my clothes. After a while, I’m reaching the clearing…

And there’s no one here…?

“Eddie?” I spin in place, looking in between the trees for any sign of the silhouette I know better than my own. It’s quiet here, with the exception of the singing birds and early crickets. I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my brows twitch in worry. “Did I take too long…?”

When I pull them back, one of them holds the last hint. It’s impossible to be anywhere else– he literally said our usual spot, and this is it, isn’t it? Unless my first suspicion was right, and he really meant to spread these around the town– wait, no, then why would he set them up around school? What am I m–

“BOO– OW!”

“EDDIE?!”

My knuckles sting, heart beating louder than a drum as I stare at my fallen best friend, cradling his own face. Immediately I reach for him, falling to my knees by his side.

“Jesus Christ, Munson, you scared the shit out of me! I’m so sorry– Oh, god dammit, sweetheart, c’mere, c'mere… Let me see…” I gently tug his hands from his face, touches practically feather light and with as much care as I can channel. He laughs all the while, completely unbothered by the forming bruise on his cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson– You pack quite the punch! Holy crap, I think you dislocated my jaw–”

“Stop saying shit like that, you’ll manifest it.” I chuckle under my breath (but do check his jaw, making sure everything is in place and I didn’t punch one of his teeth in.). “Why the hell you sneaked up on me like that? What thought process made you think that was a good idea??”

“I don’t know!” He laughs, falling limp on the grass while looking up at me. His smile is almost dopey, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he said he just got baked. He doesn’t smell like weed, tho. Just smoke and cologne, the one that makes me wish I could bury my nose into his neck and just live there. “I thought it’d be a good idea? All I needed to do was distract you for a little while!”

“Distract me?” I snort, brows tilting in a playful frown. “From what?”

“Shit–” And at the sound of my brother’s cursing, I lift my eyes from my best friend’s face.

What do I find if not the rest of the Hellfire club, haphazardly stacked on each other’s shoulders putting up a huge banner on the branches of the nearest threes. Jeff has Mike on his shoulders, while Bryan has Justin– and Lucas and Gareth watch a few steps away, clearly trying to not bring attention to themselves as I turn to them.

“Michael, if you ruin my jacket with your dirty ass shoes–”

“I’m trying not to! Stop moving!”

“Guys! Guys, I’m gonna fall! BRYAN–”

“You’re not gonna fall, Dustbin– stop being a pussy and just tie the goddamn thing.”

“What the hell…?” I mumble, even more confused than when I found the kids sneaking Eleven into Mike’s basement.

Eddie doesn’t answer me with anything but a cackle, getting up to his feet and jogging up to the rest of the club. His grin is so wide his dimples are lost between smile lines, brown eyes shining in the late afternoon sun that warms my skin and cheeks. He skids to a stop under the banner, not even waiting to check if it’s tied up properly before tugging the bottom and unrolling it.

‘COME DITCH PROM WITH THIS FREAK?’

And the arrows badly painted on the bottom point directly at him, that turns around to beam my way with his smile brighter than the sun.

…

I don’t know if the guys have fallen silent or if I just gone deaf, but I don’t have the mental power to look. It’s like the whole world turned… quiet.

My heart can’t seem to choose between skipping beats or skidding to stop. I can feel my skin tingling, my knuckles going from stinging to burning. As does the back of my neck and the bottom of my gut.

I read the words, over and over again, shocked…

“Is this…” My tongue feels like it’s knotted, tied and shipped to the other side of the country. No words could ever describe– whatever the hell I’m feeling right now. “Are you… Is– Are you for real??”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, the warm orange lighting almost making it look like his cheeks are dyed a soft red. His smile is confident, almost cocky and playful as he looks down at me. “As real as a I can be.”

My mouth feels drier than a desert, and I swallow harshly. I can’t turn my eyes from him, like I’m transfixed… which, in someways, I am.

He has hypnotized me, a puppet on his strings.

I feel starstruck.

Eddie takes my silent as a go ahead, because after standing under the banner for a second, he slowly walks to me again. For some reason, I don’t even think to get back on my feet until he’s almost right in front of me, his head obscuring the sun as if he’s the only star I need.

“Henderson,” He says, the smirk on his lips almost sheepish. “I’ve got to apologize. I’ve been… kind of a shit best friend for the last couple years. You’ve been my paladin, my white knight, the voice of reason when I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t even thank you properly.”

He extends his hand, the black stone in his ring finger catching the sunlight from his smile.

“So let me make it up to you… Will you let me take you with me to not-prom?”

My throat closes up, my eyes sting, but my smile is as bright as the moon.

“Yeah, I will.”

And I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

taglist! @eddiesgirlforever @plk-18 thx for the support and the patience!! :D

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #HD&SC #god it took me SO LONG to write this!#six months!#jesus!#hopefully next part will be easier #although it will DEFINITELY be the longest but no spoilers #on other news #i edited this while high on cold medicine and in great pain from cramps #sorry if something doesn't make sense #eddie munson #trash's writing tag o/

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justauthoring · 2 years

Text

Shadow of Yourself [6/18]

Prompt: “You’ve changed, Eli. I barely even know who you are right now.”

A/N: here concludes season two! i really enjoyed writing this part and i am so excited to jump into season three :)

Based off of: Cobra Kai 02x06, 02x07, 02x08, 02x09 and 02x10 Warnings: some swear words (because tumblr apparently doesn’t like that), poorly written fighting scene, bullying, etc. Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x F!Reader

Tag List: @moonydrafts - @ashwhowrites - @traveleraroundsworld - @truly-abysmal - @likecherriesinthespring - @hollxe1 - @asonofpeter - @scarlett-verse - @musically-ambiguous - @kayda1 - @moon-zoons - @dwcode - @day-dreamsinthedark - @leilani788 - @silvermagnolias - @hawkinsavclub - @animewolflover278 - @gruffle1 - @b-tchymoon - @maggiecc - @beetea38 - @hawkinsavclub1983 - @crpytids - @embersparklz - @kimilight - @httpjiikook - @marauderssmut - @fyckcore - @multinci - @lqveabby - @oh-well-whatever-nevermind - @redskull199987 - @silvermagnolias - @shortneko - @okjaeminn - @thecyclonetragedy - @vamproq - @siriusfahey - @cobrakaigirlie - if you’re in italics, tumblr wont let me tag you.

JUST ONE MOMENT:

Won’t be back until the end of the month.

You stare blankly at the text from your mom, unsure how to feel. She was supposed to be back tonight. Literally tonight. And this time, you really thought she was going to be back…

It was the closest you’d gotten without her calling you to tell you she’d be coming home later. You’d allowed your hopes to get up and now you were paying for it. You knew not to… you knew not to let your hopes get up and to think she’d actually, for once, come home.

But you had. Because you needed her. You needed your mom. After everything that’s happened, all you wanted was for her to tell you it’d be okay.

You hadn’t even gotten a call this time. Just a text. A stupid, meaningless text.

Feeling your eyes burn, you quickly click off your phone. You don’t want to look at it anytime—you can’t stand those words staring back at you, almost mockingly, like a constant reminder that she wasn’t here and you don’t know when she would be.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Jumping at the sound of Robby’s voice, you spin around to face him, eyes wide as he stares back at you in concern. You shift your gaze past him, to Sam and Demetri who are still trying to lift that damned rock, and curse silently. You thought no one had been paying attention when you snuck off at the sight of a text from your mom.

Clearly, you were wrong.

Wiping at your tears and cheeks hastily, you shake your head; “I’m fine.”

Robby seems hesitant, brows furrowing as he takes a small step towards you. “A-Are you sure? I mean—”

“I said I’m fine, Robby!”

Rearing back at your sudden outburst, Robby blinks, a flash of hurt flickering across his face that has you instantly regretting the way you’d yelled at him. “Alright, sorry. I’ll just…”

“No, Robby, I’m sorry,” you sigh, reaching out for him and pulling him to a gentle stop. He turns to you as you do and you offer your best apologetic smile that probably looks a little meaningless considering there are still beads of tears building in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get mad. It’s just my… my mom.”

Robby instantly pauses at that, the expression on his face changing. “Your mom?”

“Yeah, she… she’s away a lot for business and I never see her. She was supposed to be back home tonight, but something happened… again. And she won’t be back until the end of the month.” Then, pausing, you shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know anymore.”

Lips parting, Robby’s eyes soften. “What about your dad?”

“He died when I was a kid,” you explain, swallowing thickly. “I never really knew him.”

“Oh.”

“I’m just not… used to telling people this. I’ve only ever really told Eli this and a little bit of it to Demetri so…”

Robby’s quirks a brow; “the kid with the mohawk?”

Shoulders falling, you nod. “Yeah, he used to be… well, not like that.”

Robby nods and an awkward silence falls over the both of you. You’ve never really told anyone your home situation, besides Eli and Demetri, and you’re not really sure how Robby will react.

Or, even, why you told him.

It just… it felt like he’d understand.

“My mom left me alone to go to Cabo with her boyfriend and my dad is currently the one running Cobra Kai.”

Eyes widening at Robby’s confession, you blink, head jerking back in surprise as he, oddly enough, smiles down at you. He’s smiling in a way that’s meant to comfort you, tell you you’re not alone because he understands.

He gets it.

“Johnny Lawrence is your dad?” You question, leaning towards him in disbelief.

Robby laughs, “yup.”

“Woah…” you breathe, giggling lightly at the revelation—you would’ve never guessed that.

“See, there ya go.” Turning to Robby in confusion at his words, he just shakes his head. “I got you to laugh.”

Cheeks warming slightly at his words, you flicker your gaze to your feet, stunned silent on what to say. For a boy who’d originally avoided you and glared at you any chance he got—he was honestly, very sweet. And it was nice to know that there was at least someone who understands what it felt like to be alone.

To have no one to go home to.

To have no parents to rely on.

“Thank you, Robby,” you say after a moment, meeting his eyes with a smile. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he nods, before pausing in thought. “You’re okay, though? Like you have food and water and—”

“I’m okay, Robby,” you cut in gently, shaking your head to wave away his worries. “My mom pays for everything still. I guess she still cares enough to make sure I have a roof under my head.”

Robby shoulders fall with ease; “good. Mr. Larusso and his family are allowing me to stay with him because of my mom and I just wanted to make sure.”

Lips parting, you shake your head. “You’re staying with Sam and her family?”

Brows furrowing in confusion, Robby nods slowly. “Yeah?”

“That must be interesting for you and Sam.”

“What?”

You just snort, “the two of you clearly like each other.”

Robby’s cheeks redden almost immediately and his eyes widen, this sort of panicked look washing over his face as he steps closer to you, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Is it that obvious?”

Giggling, you shrug; “a little.”

Robby sighs, brushing his hair back before he blinks and suddenly, a frown mares his lips. “Doesn’t matter though,” he sighs, “Sam doesn’t return the feelings anymore.”

Quirking a brow, you turn to Robby in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Anybody who pays attention can see she’s constantly watching you, and she hangs on to your every word. She’s been trying to dress up a little more to impress you and,” turning to Robby, you laugh at the look on his face. “Need I go on?”

Blushing heavily, Robby shakes his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” Then, shuffling on his feet slightly, Robby just huffs. “I just—”

“Uh, excuse me?” A new voice cuts off Robby, causing you to turn around slightly, looking towards the entrance of Miyagi-Do. Your eyes widen when you see a few of the boys from the mall attack. “Is this Miyago-Do?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Larusso answers, pushing himself to a stand.

Robby takes one look at you and then back at Sam, before he’s suddenly rushing past you to make his way over to them. “Come back for another beating?”

“Hey, Robby! Robby!” Mr. Larusso calls out, taking Robby by the arm and stopping him before he can do anything.

“This is one of the guys who was beating on Demetri!” Robby explains, his hand held forward in gesture. “Probably helped trash the dojo.”

Faltering at Robby’s words, you bite your lip.

“We didn’t have anything to do with that,” the boy argues, shaking his head. “But I am sorry about what happened at the mall,” he apologizes, purposely leaning up to speak past Robby and Mr. Larusso and at Demetri himself. “We just wanna learn Miyagi-Do karate.”

“I’d be careful about this, Mr. L,” Demetri warns, “letting the Cobra Kai’s into Miyagi-Do. It’s like letting the wildlings behind the Wall.”

Mr. Larusso pauses in thought, before turning to Demetri. “Didn’t the wildlings help Jon Snow win the Battle of the Bastards?”

Blinking, you’re surprised—you wouldn’t have thought Mr. Larusso would know Game of Thrones.

Demetri pauses in thought, before scoffing; “should’ve picked a different analogy.”

Mr. Larusso turns back to the boy; “we’re happy to have you.” Then, extending his hand out in a handshake, Mr. Larusso smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

You meet Robbys gaze before glancing past him at Demetri. Biting your lip, you make your way over to Demetri, setting your hand on his shoulder. “Give him a chance, Demetri.” You meet his gaze, “we know perfectly well what Cobra Kai can do to a person.”

And at the look Demetri sends you, you both know he can’t argue with that.

Hey. Can we talk?

That’s what the text had read.

Only, it had come from Moon.

It felt weird, skipping out in karate lessons today. After yesterday, it was amazing to see not only more people join Miyagi-Do but for you all to come together as a class. Demetri and Chris had managed to lift that stupid, heavy rock together which you’d thought would be impossible considering how heavy it was.

Mr. Larusso had shared his experience of when he’d joined Cobra Kai and how it had changed him as a person—it made you think of Eli. Of how much he’d changed. Of how different he was.

But it was what Mr. Larusso said that brought you all together.

And now, for your first real class all together, you weren’t going to be there.

Mr. Larusso was understanding about it all, and said that when I was ready I could come back whenever I needed. When you had gotten the text from Moon, it felt wrong to just ignore it. Even though you barely knew the girl, it was still sweet that she reached out to you.

You didn’t know why but… it was still sweet

So, now, you were standing in her bedroom, awkwardly waiting for her to come back with some drinks. You’d insisted you didn’t need anything, but she’d insisted otherwise and had promptly left, leaving you no room for any argument.

“I got us some lemonade, if that’s okay?”

Turning around at the sound of Moon’s voice, you smile gently at the hopeful look in her gaze, nodding your head. “Yeah, that’s totally fine. Th-Thank you,” you offer, unable to stop the slight shake in your voice as you take the glass from her hand. You feel a little awkward, unsure on what to say–you’ve never really spoken to Moon before. She was friends with Yasmine and for as long as you can remember, she’d always been beside her laughing. Sure she’s apologize but, after all that, she’d been Eli’s girlfriend–he’d replaced you with her in a second and although it wasn’t her fault, you hadn’t known how to talk to her.

It was too hard. Because every time you saw her, you thought of Eli making out with her at that party and it felt like your heart had been ripped in half all over again.

“Are you nervous?”

She’s smiling as she asks, moving to take a seat on her bed, an act you follow two seconds after her. You sit on her bed apprehensively, holding the glass of lemonade tightly towards yourself–it’s the one thing stopping yourself from shaking currently.

Swallowing thickly, you raise a brow; “is it that obvious?”

She laughs lightly, “a little.”

“Sorry,” you admit, lowering your gaze. “I just… I guess I just don’t know why you wanted to talk to me.”

“Hawk and I broke up.” She explains, causing you to turn to her in bafflement, lips parting. She laughs lightly at the look on your face, noticing the small bit of twisted relief that washes over your face as you take in her words. “I broke up with him, after what he did to Demetri.”

“Oh,” you mumble, stunned by her explanation. Demetri had told you countless times how nice Moon really was, and it wasn’t that you hadn’t necessarily believed him, it was just hard to listen to that with everything that’s happened. But as you assumed, Moon really was such a nice person–for her to break up with Eli because of what he’d done to Demetri… well, it showed she really did care about Demetri.

“But I also know that you liked him,” she adds, “like him.”

Feeling your cheeks warm, you tense.

“I don’t know what happened between you guys. But I do know he cares for you. He tried to be subtle about it, but every time you weren’t there, he’d ask where you were. And every time your name came up, there’d be this look in his eyes…” Smiling softly in thought, Moon shrugs. “I just wanted you to know that I’m done with him and really, I should’ve broken it off with him long ago. It wasn’t fair of me to do that to you.”

Disbelief running through you, you adamantly shake your head. “No, no, Moon… it wasn’t your fault.” Then, pausing, you falter slightly. “I didn’t know he… I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, you can’t help your feelings, right?” She laughs before pausing, shifting her body so she’s meeting your gaze properly, nodding. “And he really does like you, Y/N. That much I can tell.”

“Yeah, well…” Brushing your hair back, you shake your head. “I also can’t forgive what he did to Demetri.”

Moon nods, a solemn expression crossing her features before she’s grinning up at you. “Enough about boys,” she laughs, setting her hand on your arm gently as you turn to her in confusion. “I didn’t just call you over for just that. Honestly, I’d… I’d like to be your friend… if you want?”

Moon wanted to be… your friend?

“I’d… I’d love to,” you whisper, smiling gently at her.

She beams, clapping her hands excitedly before herself. “Perfect! We have so much to catch up on!”

You smile as she continues to talk, feeling your heart soar at the thought of the two of you friends. While she’d never been the main perpetrator, you’d always thought Moon had thought of you how Yasmine had–you thought she hated you. And then, if you were being honest, maybe a part of you had hated her as well. For dating Eli, for getting to be the one he kisses, the one who holds his hand…

But she really was just as nice as Demetri said she was.

For her to recognize your feelings for Eli, for her to recognize Eli’s feelings as well and not feel jealous or mad that he’d been, well, unfair to her in their relationship… it was incredibly mature and understanding of her. Any girl would feel jealous and hurt if the boy they liked and were dating clearly showed signs of affection for another girl.

But Moon?

Moon just wanted to be your friend.

“I’m just not sure a party is the best idea right now.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to come because Moon asked you.”

Moving to send a glare over your shoulder at Demetri, you scoff at the grin on his face. “Haha,” you drawl, shaking your head at him as he lightly bumps his shoulder into your own. “You’re so funny.”

“I am hilarious,” he laughs, “besides, I brought trivial pursuit and I know how much you love trivial pursuit.”

“Yeah,” you grin, “because I always kick your ass.”

Scoffing, Demetri shakes his head; “you beat me one time.”

“Two times.”

“One.”

“Two!”

Chris rolls his eyes from beside you, shaking his head. “Do you two ever not argue?”

Turning to Chris, your eyes twinkle; “yes. Demetri and I actually get along quite well.”

He just snorts, “clearly it’s when no one else is around.”

Meeting Demetri’s gaze, the two of you shrug, continuing to make your way up the steps leading to Moon’s house. “There’s already a lot of people here,” you comment, glancing around at the amount of people already loitering around her lawn.

“Yeah,” Sam nods, “I guess Moon must have invited other kids from school.”

“If I’d known there’d be this many people, I would’ve brought Balderdash,” Demetri sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. You just laugh at his words, offering a hand on his shoulders in an attempt for comfort before the group of you make your way into Moon’s house.

It’s quite crowded inside as well, music blaring while boys and girls alike drink and chat amongst each other. You have a lot more hope for this highschool party then you had the last, and plan to just enjoy yourself–tonight was about you. And you planned on keeping it that way.

At least, that was what you thought until you saw Eli, along with his friends, sitting on the coach across from you.

Actually all of Cobra Kai is there.

“I’ll get you next time, okay?”

And of course, Miguel walks through the door with his new girlfriend, Tory, who you’ve had the pleasure of hearing Sam complain to you about plenty of times. You’d personally never spoken to the girl, but if the look on Sam and Robby’s face are anything to go by, or even Miguel and Tory’s, this just turned a whole lot more tense.

“Let’s go,” Tory calls out, pulling Miguel with her.

“Sam! Y/N!” At the sound of your voice, you ease slightly at the sight of Moon making her way over to the both of you. “I’m so glad you came. The kegs are out back, drinks are in the kitchen, and the vegan pigs in a blanket just got out of the oven.”

“Moon,” Sam quickly says, “you never said anything about inviting Cobra Kai.”

“Well, I figured with summer ending and school starting back up, we could stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

Honestly, it didn't sound like such a bad idea to you.

“It’s wishful thinking,” Sam frowns.

“Sam, trust me. Get rid of all this negative energy. Clear your chakras and have some fun.”

She sends one last smile at you before walking off. You turn to Robby and Sam as the three of you are left alone, not having noticed Demetri or Chris walk off in the midst of it all. “Well, I mean,” you speak up, pulling both of their eyes on you, you smile. “It’s worth a shot, no?”

By the look you receive, you get your answer pretty quick.

Eli hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night.

You can feel his stare digging into your back everywhere you go. You’d made the mistake of meeting his gaze briefly when you were talking to Moon, only for him to quickly look away pretending as if he hadn’t been watching.

You tried to ignore it, using alcohol as a way to get him and everything else off your mind. Sam and Robby had gone off somewhere, you’re not exactly sure where, and when you’d tried to find Miguel to catch up with him, he was busy with Tory. Last you checked, Demetri was trying to get Chris and a few others to play trivial pursuit with him and despite what you had said when first heading into the party, you didn’t really feel like playing a board game.

It didn’t help that the one time Eli wasn’t watching you, he was flirting with some random girl.

It made you think of Moon’s words–but I do know he cares for you–did he really?

You couldn’t figure it out.

He was so confusing. All of it was so confusing and you couldn’t be bothered to deal with it tonight. This whole thing has been one mess from start to finish and you weren’t even at the finish line yet.

So, chugging back your fifth drink of the night, you choose to ignore it. You were always the one who played it safe, you were always the one who took care of others. Weren’t you allowed to have some fun?

So what if you wanted to drink? You felt you were perfectly justified in that want.

Especially because every single sip made ignoring Eli just a little bit easier.

So when your visions getting a little bit blurrier and it’s getting harder for you to walk without stumbling about, you simply ignore all the warning calls in your head. Who cared? Not you. Not anymore. Or at least, not at this moment. You wanted to have fun, like Moon said, and you were going to do so.

You’re making your way through the crowd when you trip over your own footing, losing your balance enough that you feel yourself soaring forward. Your mind isn’t sober enough to be able to catch yourself and somewhere, in your fumble of thoughts, it crosses your mind that you’re going to fall. But you hardly care or realize, and then suddenly before you hit the ground there’s a pair of arms catching you, pulling you upright as you giggle at the sensation.

Once you’re upright, your eyes squint at the boy in front of you, trying to figure out who it is. But it isn’t someone you recognize.

“My hero,” you giggle up at the boy, shuffling on your feet while holding onto his arms.

“Woah,” the boy calls out, stumbling back slightly as you lean your full weight against him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect,” you grin, though it’s clearly a lie. You can barely stand on your own two feet without swaying on your feet and your words are slightly slurred, or at the very least slow. “How are you?”

“I’m–”

“Hey, beat it!”

Suddenly the hands holding you shift and you’re passed into another awaiting pair of hands. You rear slightly at the movement, your vision blurring as you feel the world tilt slightly, a sick feeling flooding you as you try to gather your bearings. There’s yelling next to you, but you can’t make it out clearly.

“I was just helping–”

“I’ll kick your a** if you try something like that again. F*ck off.”

Was that… that sounded like Eli…

Tilting your head back, you’re faced with red and a pair of eyes shifting to stare down at you. You instantly recognize them, even in your intoxicated state, and suddenly, everything becomes a little more clear when you realize it’s Eli holding you. “Eli?” You call out, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you,” he grunts, shifting you slightly against him, “how much have you had to drink?”

Mood soured at the sight of him–the one person you’ve been trying to avoid all night–you try to push yourself out of his arms. It’s a futile effort. You may have sobered up enough to recognize who it was holding you, but you’re still drunk, and your arms aren’t working the way you want them. Your legs either. You’re too weak to push him away and honestly, you’re not sure if you could even stand properly if you did manage to push him away.

“None of your business,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eli scoffs, “clearly too much.”

You weakly push against him; “leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You can barely stand,” Eli reminds, quirking a brow down at you as you turn your head away. Despite your words, Eli can’t help but smile slightly at the pout on your face–it’s incredibly cute and it’s been a long time since he’s been able to have you this close to him. He likes it. It feels natural. Reminds him of how it used to be, and he’s reluctant to let you go.

“I can stand perfectly fine.” You argue, puffing your cheeks out.

Wanting to make a point, Eli steps back, slipping his arm from your waist. You balance on your feet for no more than a few seconds before the world tilts once more and suddenly you’re swaying. Eli catches you around the waist once more, holding you up against himself as he grins down at you.

“See?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, cheeks red slightly in embarrassment. “Still don’t want to talk to you.”

Eli’s shoulders fall. “Come on, Y/N. What’s it gonna take for you to talk to me again?”

Turning to him, you huff; “apologize to Demetri.”

His face falls, eyes narrowing as he scoffs, shaking his head.

“See? Until you–”

“Excuse me! I’d like to make a toast.”

Both you and Eli pause at the interruption, your head turning only to see Demetri, up near the speakers with a microphone in hand. You blink at the sight, pausing in confusion as you feel Eli’s grip on you tighten.

“To Eli Moskowitz.”

Suddenly, you have a very bad feeling about this.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Demetri laughs. “Some of you might know him as Hawk. But underneath that crazy clown cosplay and whatever type of Manic Panic he dumps in his hair, he’s still good old Eli. My binary brother.”

You turn to look at Eli. His attention isn’t on you, but his jaw is clenched and there’s anger in his eyes. The hand not holding you is clenched tightly, knuckles white. It’s then you notice Aisha and one of his other friends stood next to him.

“Well, he was my binary brother.” Demetri corrects, tilting his head. “You know what he is now? A real zero.” And for emphasis, he makes a zero with his hand, making direct eye contact with Eli.

“All right, that’s enough, Demetri,” Eli calls out.

“Don’t let that angry red hairdo fool you,” Demetri brushes him off, “he’s a big softie. We watched every Harry Potter movie together. And he bawled like a baby when Dobby died.”

A chorus of laughs echo, and you feel yourself tense. One look at Eli and you know he’s about ready to lose it.

Demetri adds to it by mocking his crying.

“All right, if he doesn’t shut up,” Eli speaks up, turning to his friend, Mitch you believe his name is. “I’m gonna shut him up.”

“Remember what Sensei said about showing mercy.”

Demetri continues, adding more salt to the wound as Eli’s eyes fall on you. You swallow thickly as he turns to you, a grimace on his face and the hurt clear in his gaze as he meets your eyes. “Do you see what I mean?” He asks, gesturing to Demetri. “He deserves it. He’s too much of a pussy to confront me himself.”

You’re too drunk for this. That much is clear. You’re not processing things clearly. Why was Demetri doing this? Yes, what Eli had done at the mall was horrible and he deserved some sort of payback for it but this? This felt too far. This felt…—but then again, was it? Demetri didn’t know about the dojo and that it was Eli’s fault, but you did. You knew it. It was Eli’s fault. Not to mention, Eli’s been practically terrorizing Demetri. You knew that. Demetri told you, you witnessed it–so why did you feel bad for Eli right now?

“In the words of Eli’s hero, Steve Jobs, ‘I’ve got one more thing’. Have any of you heard of sleep enuresis?”

Eli tenses next to you, body completely freezing.

“Don’t.”

“That is the medical term, of course. In the King’s English, it’s good old-fashioned bed-wetting.”

Blinking, you shake your head; “Demetri.”

But he just shakes his head, eyes flickering from you back to Eli. “Eli here is a pro. My mom even had a special air mattress for sleepovers. And she called it…. ‘Eli’s waterbed’.”

Once again a chorus of laughter echoes.

Eli’s shifting, letting go of you in a fit of rage as you wobble on your feet. “Scr*w mercy,” he growls, “you’re a corpse!”

You reaching for him, missing his arm just by an inch. “Wait, Eli!”

He doesn’t listen to you, stomping forward before Chris steps in his way. “You’re gonna have to go through me.”

“Stay out of it, traitor!”

It’s all happening so fast. Robby’s stepping forward the second Eli makes a move towards Chris, “hey, don’t touch him.”

“Or what?” Aisha snaps, eyes set dead on Robby.

“Guys,” Moon calls, stepping beside them. “Stop. We’re friends.”

The world feels as if it’s spinning. You can barely process what’s happening.

“Oh!” Someone calls from the crowd, “I smell a rumble!”

All of a sudden there’s a flash of red, then blue and the familiar sound of a police siren echoes.

“Cops!”

Everyone moves to scatter, panic flooding the entire crowd.

“Demetri!” You hear Eli bellow distantly, suddenly unable to stand straight as you feel the sick feeling in your stomach once again. “You got lucky! I’ll see you in school!”

Distantly, you realize you need to get away before the cops come. Given how much alcohol you’ve drank, you’ll be in even more trouble. But you can’t really see properly, everything’s dizzy, and people are pushing and running past you, nearly knocking you off your own two feet. The panic mixes with the nausea and you feel yourself tensing in fear, unsure what to do.

Then, a pair of hands fall on you.

“Come on.”

It’s Eli.

He… He came to help.

Wrapping his arm around your waist once more, he helps lead you out of the house. You let him lead you, trying to resist the urge you have to throw up. Neither of you say anything. Not until you’re out of the house and far away from everyone else.

“Is your mom home?”

You turn to Eli at his question, and he frowns.

��Nevermind. I know she isn’t.”

He’s leading you to a motorcycle, handing you his helmet the second you reach it. “Here,” he says gently, helping you put it on before he sits on the motorbike, pulling you gently behind him. He wraps your arms around his waist, “hold tight, okay?” You just hum, nodding as you let yourself rest against him, pressing your head against his back to help ease the dizziness.

He reaches your house rather quickly. Before you know it the feel of wind in your hair has stopped and he’s helping you off the bike back to your feet. He easily fishes your keys out of your pocket, leading you through your front door and up the stairs. When he turns to your bedroom, you grip onto him tightly.

“Bathroom,” you whisper, shaking your head.

Nodding, Eli listens, and the second he flicks on the light to the bathroom, you’re rushing out of his grip and onto the floor, barely making it to the toilet before you finally throw up. Standing awkwardly at the door, Eli turns his head at the sight, grimacing at the noise as you heave and gasp over the toilet.

When you’re finally done, you pull back, breathless, the sound of the toilet flushing echoing through the silence.

Eli turns to you, a worried crease in his brow. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you croak, “drinking wasn’t as fun as I thought it’d be.”

Eli snorts, moving to crouch in front of you. “It’s more fun when you don’t chug it,” he shrugs.

You nod, then at the silence that echoes, you add after a moment. “Thank you, by the way. For… For helping me out of there.”

Eli nods; “I wouldn’t just leave you there.”

You frown at his words, glancing down at your lap as you fiddle with your hands. You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything.

But Eli… Eli needs to say something.

“How long has your mom been gone?”

“A few months,” you shrug, “she said she’ll be home by the end of the month.”

But as you meet Eli’s gaze, you both know there’s a low chance of that.

“I missed this, you know,” Eli whispers after a pause of silence.

“Me throwing up in a toilet?”

Eli just chuckles, “no, um, us. I missed us.”

You just shake your head; “I doubt that. You had Moon.”

“Yeah, but…” Faltering slightly, Eli turns his head, unable to stop the flush of his cheeks as he swallows thickly. “But I missed you. Being with you. Um, hanging with you. It wasn’t the same with Moon.”

Unable to stop the way your heart flutters at his words, you meet his gaze. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “and I’m sorry I ever made you think otherwise.”

Stunned at his apology, you stare up at him, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. It’s the first real conversation you feel you’ve been able to have with him–one that didn’t involve yelling or arguing. Just… just talking. Seeing reason. It felt like the Eli you knew and loved was back, sitting across from you.

“I–”

A ding interrupts you. You pause, blinking as you turn to your phone, a series of dings echoing shortly after.

“It’s Demetri,” you explain to Eli, scrolling through the texts popping up on your phone.

Hey, are you okay?

Did you get away before the cops came?

Where are you?

“He’s wondering where I am,” you add, moving to reply back.

Eli scoffing, stops you. “I don’t know why you still hang out with the loser.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, you glance up at Eli. “He’s my friend, Eli. He’s yours too.”

“He’s a loser is what he is,” Eli argues, “especially after what he pulled tonight.”

“Sure, Demetri might have gone too far but you also attacked him at the mall.”

Eli just shakes his head, “he was asking for it. You didn’t see what he wrote about Cobra Kai.”

“He was probably right,” you say gently, biting your lip. “Eli, Cobra Kai is bad… It turned you into a bully.”

Eli laughs, but there’s no humour in it. “A bully? You’re still on about that sh*t?”

“It’s true!” You cry out, unable to stop the way your voice spikes slightly. “I mean, you attacked Demetri and you trashed Miyagi-Do! You stole Mr. Miyagi’s medal of honour.” Shaking your head, you reach out for Eli, gripping onto his sweater. “That’s something a bully would do.”

“And what? What Demetri did tonight wasn’t?”

“It was,” you admit, “but… I can’t blame him–”

“Figures you’d take his side.”

Shocked by his words, you move closer. “No, Eli, it’s just–”

“Hawk.”

Blinking, you jerk your head back. “What?”

“It’s Hawk. My name is Hawk.” Narrowing his eyes at you, Eli rips his arm from you. “I’m not Eli anymore. It’s about time you accepted that.”

Unsure what to say, all that manages to leave your lips is a whispered; “you’ll always be Eli to me.”

“Whatever,” he brushes you off, and your eyes widen as he moves to a stand. You move to follow him, but stand up too quickly, falling against the wall as he turns away, “call Demetri to help you. Or better yet, why don’t you call… what’s his name? Robby? You two seemed to be getting pretty close.”

“What, no? Eli, just wait–”

He pauses, head turning over his shoulder as you grab onto his arm, desperately.

“I don’t like Robby,” you cry out, “I like you.”

“You like Eli.” He argues, and your lips part, but no words leave your lips, giving him his answer.

Pulling your hand off of him, Eli just turns, leaving the bathroom and making his way down the stairs. You’re stunned at the spot for a moment, unable to move, before you’re blinking out of your stupor, rushing to follow after him, trying to salvage what little moment you had there. It felt like you were reaching him, like you were finally getting to him–getting him to see the light.

But when you reach the bottom of the stairs, the front door is slamming shut behind him.

This was insane.

All of it.

More than insane–this was just ridiculous.

After Tory publicly threatened Sam over the P.A. system, everyone had gathered in the halls. It wasn’t hard to find where the two of them were, the massive crowd grouping around them was enough of a sign. The second Tory had revealed that Sam had kissed Miguel at the party last night, everything went to shit.

It was bad enough Robby was there to hear it, confirming your suspicions that the two not only liked each other but had started dating–Tory had immediately started attacking Sam after that. When Robby had tried to get in between the two of them and stop it, Miguel had seen it and thought he was attacking Tory, thus moved to attack him in retaliation. From there, it was a chain reaction.

Every single member of Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do started an all out brawl in the middle of the school hallways.

You tried to stay out of it, dodging hits here and there, while trying to keep an eye on Sam and Tory, or at the very least Miguel and Robby. You knew nothing about Tory, other than just what Sam had told you (and that had been anything but good), but the look in her eyes had been one of undeniable rage and you didn’t want to find out just exactly how mad she was with Sam. And how far she was willing to go.

It was bound to end horribly.

Not to mention, the last time Miguel and Robby had had a fight, there had been rules, a referee, someone watching. There were no rules here. Nobody cared. There wasn’t a single teacher around, and by the way things were escalating, you knew something was going to happen. You just weren’t sure what.

Everything had blown out far of proportion.

Of course, you kept your eye on Eli too.

Even after what had happened last night, even after how he’d left–even if your heart felt as if it was breaking all over again. You may have been sick and a little inebriated, but you still remember his words from the party last night.

Demetri! You got lucky! I’ll see you in school!

And this right here? Was the perfect opportunity.

So, when all of a sudden you can’t see Eli and his familiar red mohawk or Demetri, panic floods your entire being. The fight had moved into the main foyer, and Sam and Tory were currently fighting on the steps with Robby and Miguel on their heels, each trying to get to their respective girlfriend. But you could barely pay attention to them anymore.

You had no doubt in your mind that Eli was with Demetri given that you couldn’t see him either.

Head spinning every which way, you feel your heart pounding madly against your chest, fear coursing through your veins at what could possibly be happening. You remembered the look on Eli's face when he’d tried to hurt Demetri at the mall, the unrecognizable glint he’d regarded Demetri with–he couldn’t see reason anymore. He couldn’t see what he was doing or how wrong it was. And if he couldn’t realize that, whose to say what he’ll do to Demetri given the chance.

Especially after what Demetri had said last night.

“Demetri!” You call out, rushing through the halls. “Eli! Where are you!”

You’re making your way through the school halls, barely paying attention to your surroundings. And then, just as you turn a corner, two boys suddenly block your path. You jerk to a stop, baffled, until your eyes fall on the boy standing in the front. It’s the boy from the mall, one of Eli’s friends, the one who’d attacked you. And by the twisting gleam in his eyes, you have a bad feeling he means to again.

“You again,” you huff, hands falling by your sides as you shake your head. “Look, I’m not trying to fight anyone. I’m just trying to find–”

“Hawk,” he interrupts, smirking widely. “We know.”

“We don’t plan on letting you through that easily.”

Your brows furrow, confusion flooding you. “Eli–Hawk told you to stop me?”

He just scoffs; “no, he doesn’t know.” Then, he takes a threatening step forward, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater. “Which means he can’t stop me either.”

He jumps at you in the next second, fear leaping through your throat as you just barely manage to block his punch. As you stumble forward, the other boy with him jumps in front of you. He manages to hit you across the cheek, your vision blurring for a second as you reel back. You create some distance between you and the two, pressing a hand to your nose, only to pull back and see blood.

When you look back at the two of them, they’re laughing.

Jesus.

Huffing, you square your shoulders, kicking out your left leg, letting your eyes fall shut as you breathe in deeply. You know this, you know how to fight–you hadn’t joined Miyagi-Do and done nothing. You’ve been training. Now was the time to put it into action.

As soon as your eyes open, you leap forward, dodging the coming hit at your head and managing a kick against the second boy's chest. He huffs in response, stumbling back, as you turn your attention back to the main boy who had it out for you. You’re able to evade his first two hits, landing a punch across his face, before he delivers a nasty kick to your leg, causing you to fall back with a groan, feeling the wind get knocked out from beneath you.

The second you blink the boys gaining on you, rolling over just as he moves to hit you. Pressing your hands to the ground, you force yourself up, kicking your leg out at the second boy who just got back up to his feet. You manage to hit him square in the chest this time, knocking him back so he hits the set of lockers behind him, effectively knocking him out.

“Looks like it’s just us,” the boy scoffs, grinning down at you despite his busted lip.

Eyes widening as he races towards you, swinging hit after hit, a cry leaves your lips as you block one of hits wrong, feeling your wrist crack. The boy laughs in response, it echoing across the otherwise silent hall as you glare at him, shaking your head.

You needed to get away from him.

You needed to get to Eli and Demetri.

Inhaling sharply, you turn just as he kicks at you, spinning yourself around, and using your other arm to land a hit against his shoulder. He stumbles back in response and you don’t hesitate, kicking your leg out before yourself, nailing him in the stomach as he coughs in response, doubling over, shuffling on the spot.

Holding his stomach, he glares up at you; “you b*tch.”

You just roll your eyes.

You didn’t care about him.

You need to find them.

You turn, ignoring the slight ache in your wrist and the blood pouring from your nose as you break out into a run once more.

“Demetri! Where are you!”

Pushing open a door, you come to a halt when you finally find Eli and Demetri. It’s just the two of them, and they’re fighting. Eli is the one on offense, Demetri doing his best to block his attacks and your eyes widen as you watch Eli hold nothing back. He swings without hesitation, without withholding any of his own strength. He has every intention of hurting Demetri.

He wants to hurt Demetri.

“Eli!”

His name leaves your lips in a shrill cry, cracking in desperation as he pauses, head turning to look at you. His lips have parted, eyes falling on yours as shock floods his gaze, probably surprised at the state you’re in. You ignore his confused look, staring back at him with a frown and a horrified look, shaking your head.

It’s clear what you’re asking.

Please don’t.

But then Demetri shuffles back, and he just turns away, scoffing as his face hardens. He lets out a cry as he swings his fist back, moving to hit Demetri directly. You freeze, body tensing, fear flooding you, until Demetri dodges the hit, managing to grab Eli. He says something, something you can’t hear from where you’re standing, before he spins the two of them around, kicking his leg out and hitting Eli directly in the head so that he crashes into the trophy case, glass shattering everywhere.

Stepping forward, Demetri glances down at him. “Sorry… Eli.”

And as you watch it happen, Demetri moving to walk away, you can’t help but wonder what happened.

To the three of you.

Why was it like this? Why had it turned out this way?

Why did Eli have to change?

“Y/N,” Demetri calls out for you gently, pulling you from your thoughts as you blink up at him. “Come on. Let’s go. You’re hurt.”

You meet his eyes, lips parting but saying nothing, nodding, before staring past him, at Eli, who has since forced himself up to his knees. His eyes are already on the two of you, his eyes set into a nasty glare as he watches Demetri gently guide you forward, as if hiding you from Eli. Anger courses through his entire body as he watches Demetri lead you away from him, embarrassed at having lost, and frustrated at the whole situation of it.

And when you don’t fight Demetri, letting him lead you away, Eli swears he’s never felt such rage.

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