#i've had this one in my mind since the chapter drop a few weeks ago and finally got to it

[gembastarde]

{ road to perfection }

[st-eve-barnes]

You know that I'm no good (chapter 5)

(Modern Aegon x fem Reader, Modern Sihtric x fem Reader)

Summary: You want Sihtric. Aegon wants Skade. There's only one small problem: Sihtric and Skade are dating each other.

This chapter: in spite of your growing and confusing feelings for Aegon things get cozy with Sihtric as well. (I know my Sihtric girls have been very patient, you're getting a bit more of him this chapter!)

The movie I picked in this chapter was random and I quickly picked one of my fave songs from it not realizing it's actually pretty perfect for Aegon, so go listen to Girl you'll be a woman soon by Urge Overkill.

Warning for the entire series: 18+ for explicit language and smut. Angst/comfort/fluff. Fake dating and so much mutual pining. Mentions of depression/drinking/self harm.

This is an Aegon x Reader fic with a bit of Sihtric x Reader on the side. I've wanted to write a modern AU that combines The Last Kingdom and House of the dragon for a while now so here it is!

Word count: +2900

Masterlist

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

You were on your couch again the next Friday night, determined not to open the door for anyone this time and enjoy your Netflix alone time. Before you started your Stranger Things rewatch you took one last look at your phone.

Zero messages.

Aegon had been quiet since last weekend. You supposed you could always text him first but you didn’t want to appear too eager, which you of course absolutely were but you didn’t want him to know that. Your feelings for him still confused you and having slept on Helaena’s words you were determined to at least try and follow her advice. 

Focus on just having fun with Aegon and try not to overthink things. And get back to the plan with Sihtric. You were in the middle of the second episode when your phone lit up with a text, from Aegon. You reached for it so fast you almost dropped your phone on the floor. 

So far for not appearing too eager.

“Good evening, moon of my life ❤️”

His text made your heart skip a beat and your lips curled up into the biggest smile. Damned, you hated the effect he had on you.

“Hey, loser,” you texted back.

“Whatcha doin?” his answer came immediately.

“Watching Netflix and not leaving my couch, and you?”

“In my bed watching a movie. I would ask you to come over but you don’t wanna leave your couch so I won't bother.”

Shit.

“What movie?” you typed, ignoring his invite and trying not to think of the image of him lying in his bed all cozy and alone.

“Pulp fiction.”

“Oh, a classic.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Of course I’ve seen it, a long time ago though, I think I remember I loved it?”

You jumped when your phone rang and your heart leaped again seeing Aegon’s name appear on the screen. You eagerly accepted his call,”Hey, loser.”

His voice was soft and heavy in your ear,“Watch it with me.”

“Aegon, I’m not coming over.”

“That’s not what I meant, look for it on Netflix and we can watch it together, I’m only 5 minutes in, I’ll wait for you.”

You sighed,”I was watching Stranger Things.”

“And now we’re going to watch something that isn’t crap. Come on, doll face, do it, I’ll wait.”

You stopped the episode to type the movie into the search bar. 

“Stranger Things isn’t crap,” you stated in the meantime, settling back in your spot on the couch.”And what gives you the right to interrupt my plans again by the way? Is this going to happen every Friday night?

“Maybe,” Aegon teased,”Would you mind?”

You could practically hear his shit-eating grin through the phone.

"Ask me again in a few weeks," you teased him back and he laughed.

“You ready?” he then asked.

“Ready.”

Aegon let you watch in silence for ten minutes before he started giving you his opinion on certain scenes, which resulted in you having to tell him to shut up because you were missing things.

“But you’ve seen it already,” he ignored your complaints.

“That was years ago, I don’t remember every little detail!” you threw back,"Let me pay attention."

“Okay, fine, I’ll shut up,” he promised. Which lasted for exactly five minutes. You gave up on trying after that, and you had to admit you were kind of enjoying the sound of his voice a little more than the movie anyway. His laughter through the phone warmed your heart and when he sang along to “Girl you’ll be a woman soon” your heart wasn’t the only thing getting overheated.

By the end of the movie he turned more quiet again but you could still hear him breathing right next to your ear, making it feel as if he was right there in the room with you. 

God, how you wished he was right there in the room with you. 

And how you wished the movie was longer than it actually was because before you knew it the end credits started rolling and you could hear Aegon let out a long, tired sigh and yawn.

“Thanks for keeping me company, darling,” he then spoke sweetly.

“Next time you’re watching Stranger Things with me,” you teased him and you could hear him laugh softly.

“Next time you come over and watch it in bed with me,” he whispered in a sleepy voice, putting your stomach in knots.

“Good night, Aegs.”

“Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl.”

***

You had just finished breakfast the next morning when your phone lit up with a text, not Aegon but Helaena this time.

“Party at Sihtric’s house tonight and guess who got us all an invite? You can thank me later, pick you up at 10!”

You couldn’t help but smile and feel excited by her message but your initial excitement wore off quickly when you realized Sihtric wasn’t the one you were excited about. Your first thoughts and the butterflies in your stomach were all for someone else.

When did this happen? Sihtric was the one you’d been crushing on for the past six months or so, the guy you so desperately wanted to date only a few weeks ago, your ultimate dream guy, the prettiest guy you’d ever seen. And now?

Did you even still want him? Or had Aegon wormed his way into your brain and your heart to the point there was no more room for Sihtric?

You closed your eyes, trying to conjure Sihtric’s beautiful features and unique eyes and cast Aegon out but all you could see was two beautiful blue eyes and a dumb smile that didn’t belong to Sihtric.

Fuck.

Another text from Helaena popped up on your screen:”You’d better wear something slutty, I have a feeling tonight is your night, babe!”

You decided on something mildly slutty, one of your best fitting jeans with a low cut top showing off your back and a little cleavage.

When Helaena texted you the address you found out Sihtric didn’t live too far from your apartment. As you walked up the steps to his house you were amazed by the size of it, it looked more like a mansion than a house., you knew he was pretty well off but you still hadn’t expected that.

Helaena locked arms with you as you both walked into the luxurious garden, there was a huge swimming pool, bar and barbecue and quite a few familiar faces hanging around.

“Not bad, huh?” Helaena whispered.

“Not bad,” you agreed,”I’m gonna go look for a bathroom first, I’ll meet you back out here.”

You walked up the stairs to the house and through the kitchen, looking for the bathroom but failing to find one you walked up the stairs.

“Lady Y/N?”

His voice made you turn around instantly and you stared right into his beautiful mismatched eyes. Sihtric was standing at the bottom of the stairs, wearing black jeans and a simple white t-shirt and it looked ridiculously good on him. You almost felt relief when the sight of him still took your breath away.

Maybe your dormant crush on him wasn’t as dead as you had assumed after all.

“You remembered my name,” you smiled surprised.

He returned your smile,”Of course I did. You’re hard to forget.”

He carefully walked up the stairs to get closer to you, reaching out his hand again and when you offered yours he shook it firmly and then held onto it just a little too long, the contact making you blush. 

“How are you enjoying the party?” he asked.

“We’ve only just arrived, but I’m already in awe of this gorgeous house you have here.”

“Ah, I wish I could take credit for that but it’s my parent’s house,” he explained,”I’m just house sitting for them while they’re away for the summer. Let’s just say my place is a little more…modest.”

He gave you a sweet smile that you couldn’t help but return.

“Well, does your parent’s mansion also have a bathroom?”

He smiled,”It has five actually.”

Your eyes widened and he nodded his head and laughed,”I know, so over the top, right? I’ll walk you to the closest one. Follow me.”

You followed him up the stairs, swallowing down the nerves in your stomach and trying not to stare at his ass too much.

“It’s the first door right there,” he pointed,”Do you…want me to wait until you’re done?”

There was a teasing, almost flirty tone to his question.

“No, I think it’s a little early on in our relationship for you to hear me pee,” you teased back.

He laughed again, so loud and so genuine it lit up his entire face and it made you swell with pride. Not only had you managed to talk to him without letting your nerves take the upper hand but you actually managed to make him laugh as well. It made your confidence soar.

“Come find me when you’re done,” he then spoke softer,”The price for using my personal bathroom is a dance. So you owe me one.”

He winked at you again before returning his way down the stairs.

You entered the bathroom with a big sheepish grin on your face and when you looked at your reflexion in the mirror you covered your face with both hands, both excited and slightly embarrassed.

You jumped when your phone beeped, expecting a text from Helaena but it was Aegon this time.

“Just arrived at Sihtric’s but my pretty girlfriend isn’t here :( “

“I’m in the bathroom,” you texted back, smiling to yourself,”Unless you mean one of your other girlfriends…”

“You’re the only one for me, sweetheart. Come find me.”

Your chewed your bottom lip and sighed, feeling those butterflies pop up in your stomach again. 

So that crush definitely wasn’t dead either. You knew Aegon was just playing, pretending to be your boyfriend like you both agreed to and flirting because that was the only way he knew how to communicate with women. None of it meant anything. 

Right?

And Hel’s words still floated around in your head too:“do not fall in love with him because it will not end well”.

Was it too late for that already? Had you already started falling in love with him or was there still time to reverse everything and give Sihtric an actual chance?

***

The party was in full swing by the time you got back outside, Helaena was dancing her ass off on the dance floor with some guys you didn’t recognize. Jace was chilling on a floaty unicorn in the pool and you even spotted Aemond by the bar, dressed in all black as always and filling up his drink while hiding behind his sunglasses even though the sun had gone down a while ago.

Sihtric was talking to some of his friends by the barbecue and much to your surprise you caught his eye almost instantly and he gave you a little wave and a smile. You waved back but didn’t walk up to him, instead you kept looking around until you saw him. 

Aegon, walking up to you with a happy little smile on his lips. His hair was messy and curly and he was wearing light blue jeans, sneakers and a black t shirt. He looked so good for someone who wasn’t your type at all. You couldn’t look away from him and he didn’t seem to be able to look away from you either, not breaking eye contact once until he was standing right in front of you.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he teased, placing one hand on your hip and leaning in to place a lingering kiss on your cheek. You leaned into it and placed your hands on his stomach. It seemed to encourage him because he cupped your cheek and kissed you again, on the lips this time. It was soft and sweet and you fucking melted.

Aegon smiled into the kiss and you slipped your tongue into his mouth, unable to hold yourself back. He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, kissing you deeper and digging his fingers into your hips as he pulled you closer.

You leaned back too soon for his liking and his mouth chased yours, pulling you into another kiss. You didn’t need to be persuaded, you kissed him back just as eagerly.

There was nothing wrong with playing the game, right? After all he was supposed to be your boyfriend and you were just acting your part. 

Eventually you leaned back again and this time he let you.

“You missed me, huh?” he teased, his smile soft and his hands still resting on your waist.

“Like a hole in the head,” you teased him right back, making him laugh again.

“Shall I get us some drinks?” he suggested.

“Good plan, yeah,” you stepped back from him, relieved to be able to put some distance between you two. 

You could so easily get addicted to his kisses, and his hands, his gorgeous blue eyes. Fuck, you could get addicted to all of him. Maybe you already were but you were just too stubborn to admit that.

“Lady Y/N?”

You turned around to find Sihtric standing right in front of you.

“May I steal you away from your boyfriend for that dance?” he asked, a sweet smile on his face as he reached out his hand to you.

This was a dream and not real life, it must be. Just a month ago you were all alone and ready to give up on men altogether and now these two gorgeous guys were practically begging for your attention? This couldn’t be real, things like that didn't just happen to you.

But when you placed your hand in Sihtric's it felt very real.

He guided you to the dance floor and you followed him eagerly. 

Maybe giving into him would help break this spell Aegon seemed to have put you under, it sure couldn’t hurt.

The song was slow and Sihtric didn’t hesitate to place both hands on your waist, carefully pulling you closer to him but waiting for you to close the final distance. You wrapped both arms around his shoulders, gazing up into his eyes for a moment and finding him staring right back at you, and straight into your soul. 

His eyes were intense and when his lips curled up into the tiniest of smiles you looked away with a smile of your own. 

Sihtric pulled you closer and you leaned into him, giving into the warmth and comfort his body was offering you. He hugged you tighter, you hugged him back, he gently nuzzled into your hair, you moved your fingers into his neck caressing his skin. When his lips brushed against your cheek, obviously very much on purpose, you shamelessly leaned into it.

It felt good to hold him and be held by him, his undivided attention and playful touches felt even better.

He didn’t speak for the longest time but just danced with you, letting you get comfortable with him and helping you relax in his arms. His one hand carefully moved up from your waist to your back and underneath your top, tracing patterns on your exposed skin. His fingers featherlight and leaving goosebumps in their path. His forehead rested against yours, locking eyes with you again and not looking away this time.

Every caress from him was slowly starting to erase Aegon from your mind. 

When Aegon returned with your drinks that’s where he found you, wrapped up in Sihtric’s arms. His jaw clenched at the sight and he quickly turned around, not wanting to look at you both any longer than necessary. For a moment he wasn’t sure what to do with himself and he just froze. He took a long sip from his drink, and then another one until the glass was empty. Then he put your drink down on the table and returned to the house and as far away from the dance floor as he could.

Helaena had witnessed the whole thing and closed her eyes in a deep sigh.

Dancing with Sihtric felt surreal, you’d dreamt about this so often but you never imagined it might actually happen. And you definitely never imagined him being so flirty and sweet with you. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek, his lips inching closer to yours and for a moment you actually thought he was going to kiss you.

He pulled back at the last moment and just continued dancing with you.

“Sorry,” he then whispered,”I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t,” you reassured him.

“I know you and Aegon are…”

“Oh, right,” you realized,”And you and Skade of course.”

He just smiled,”Me and Skade aren’t exclusive.”

“Oh.”

“She’s…um…a bit of a free spirit.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his choice of words.

“Anyway, I should let you get back to your boyfriend,” he moved back but not before taking your hand and looking into your eyes one last time,”If things don’t work out between you and him…or if you two are not as exclusive as I think you are…give me a call. We can still do that double date, or…I could just take you out on a date.”

And then he walked away from you, leaving you completely baffled.

You jumped when Helaena put her hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she grinned,”What was that?”

“You watched that happen, right? That wasn’t all just in my head?”

“Oh, no, it happened, he was shamelessly flirting his ass off. I thought he was going to kiss you!”

“So did I…fuck,” you sighed, biting your lip while fighting a smile and feeling your cheeks heat up.

“He wants you, babe, that was so obvious for everyone to see,” Helaena teased with a huge smile on her face,”If you ask me he’s liked you all along and seeing you with Aegon just gave him that little push he needed to pursue it.”

Helaena’s words made your smile fade and your eyes met hers,”Shit, where’s Aegon?”

[thefallennightmare]

Moment of Weakness-five

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence. Very very slight mention of small forceable touching. It’s towards the end so if it’s a trigger. Please don’t read. You can skip and not miss anything.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: I've italicized a certain spot in this chapter that I found a prompt for on Pinterest and absolutely fell in love with so I wanted to use it in a story of mine. Kind of a long one but the only one for tonight. As I mentioned in the warnings, small amount of forceable touching towards the end. Feel free to skip ahead.

Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @elizacusi-blog @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity @cjand10 @tesseract69 @batprincess1013

I palmed my eyes, rubbing away the blurry tiredness that clouded them, and continued to read the papers in front of me. This should have been done hours ago but I found myself becoming busy with answering phone calls from the other gangs around New York because they wanted information about the next meeting. My work day ended over an hour ago and with how angry Bucky seemed at me earlier, I wanted to make sure all of my work was finished before leaving. 

“You’re still here?” 

I looked away from the papers and gave Steve a weak smile. “I thought you left already.” 

He nodded. “I did but Bucky needed me to come back. Something came up.” 

I looked towards the closed door of Bucky’s office and sighed. It had been a few hours since I had seen him and wasn’t sure what he was doing behind the closed door. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked, looking back at Steve. 

Steve stuffed his hands deep into his pants pockets. “Don’t worry about it. You should get home and get some sleep.” 

I squinted my eyes at him, clearly understanding that he was hiding something from me. I was interrupted by asking what by the front door of the small building opening, a fiery redhead bounding inside. 

“Oh, Steve. You’re still here?” 

He gave a warm smile to Natasha. “Bucky called me back. We need to take care of something.” 

“With Thor? Bucky told me that he low balled you guys again with his payment,” Natasha ignored me, only keeping her attention on Steve. 

My stomach dropped with jealousy, hearing that they talked about this with Natasha. 

“I thought Bucky specifically counted the money? I was with him and he said it was all there,” I said. 

That got Natasha’s attention and she looked at me with a parted lip expression. 

“Bucky went with you?” 

I nodded. “Last week. He was going to send me with Sam but he was out sick and Steve was busy so Bucky just came with me.” 

“He didn’t mention that,” Natasha muttered to herself. 

“I’m not exactly sure what happened. Bucky said to meet him here so we can head over to Thor’s club,” Steve shrugged. 

At the mention of his name, Bucky appeared almost out of nowhere and was surprised to not only see Natasha there but me there as well, still working. 

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know you were coming by. I told you I was going to be late tonight,” Bucky said. 

She laid a very deep kiss upon his lips, clearly one that Bucky had no problem returning. I had to look away not only because of the jealousy that filled me but the awkwardness I felt between them. Nothing happened between Bucky and I so there was no reason to feel this way. But I couldn’t help it, especially with how different Bucky had been acting when it was only him and I together. 

Steve didn’t miss the hurt look in my eyes. 

“I wanted to surprise you. I thought that we could get a few minutes together before you had to leave,” Natasha’s fingers dragged down the front of Bucky’s chest and lingered over his belt. 

She clearly didn’t care that Steve and I were there still, watching this unfold. 

Bucky shifted uncomfortably under her touch and when our eyes met, I had to look away, hoping he couldn’t tell how hurt I was watching them. 

He did. 

“Nat, I’m sorry but I don’t have any time for this,” Bucky sighed while taking her hands off of him. 

“Well, I guess I’ll go back home then and wait for you.” She ran a hand through her hair, the hurt and embarrassment clear on her face. 

Bucky shook his head before he motioned to his office. “I’ve got two minutes. Why don’t you tell me about your day?” 

That brightened up Natasha’s face as she eagerly nodded and followed Bucky into his office, the door left wide open. I couldn’t help but watch as they conversed quietly amongst themselves, the smile that played at Bucky’s lips sunk my heart deep into my stomach and it was weighed down when he moved a strand of hair out of Natasha’s face, tucking it behind her ear. 

How I longed and wished that was me. 

Steve sighed as he sat on the edge of my desk and looked down at me, arms crossed over his chest. 

“What?” I asked, not bothering to take my eyes off of Bucky. 

“You’re staring at him again,” he observed. 

Embarrassed, I looked down at my feet and shrugged. “I’m not. I simply looked over in that direction and he was there.” 

“Then why was that look on your face?” Steve snickered. 

“What?” I shook my head. “What look?” 

Steve bore his own hurt expression. “Everytime you look at him, you get this certain spark in your eyes. Almost as if you’re looking at the night sky.” 

“And?” 

He let out a broken breath. “You love the night sky.” 

My heart dropped again, only this time it was because of how hurt Steve sounded and suddenly I realized why he felt that way. 

“Oh, Steve,” I breathed while standing to my feet. 

My hand went to cup his cheek but he was quick to stand, Bucky and Natasha walking out of the office. I didn’t have the chance to talk to Steve about what I realized because he had moved away from me, almost as if I had breathed a sickness unto him. 

“I’ll see you when I get home, alright?” Bucky placed a kiss on Natasha’s lips. 

I averted my gaze to my shoes and danced on my heels. 

“Y/N, do you want me to wait for you and we can walk to our cars together?” She suggested. 

“Oh, I-.” I stumbled over my words, trying to rack my brain for an excuse as to why I couldn’t leave quite yet. 

I knew the only reason why Natasha wanted to walk with me to my car was to make sure that I wasn’t alone with Bucky yet again. 

“She’s finishing up some work for me. Not worth it to have you wait around,” Bucky spoke for me. 

I gave him a small smile of thanks. 

They said another quick goodbye and when she was gone, I crossed my arms over my chest while leaning all of my weight onto my left foot. 

“So, Thor low balled you with the cash yet again?” I asked Bucky with a raised brow. 

He sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Steve and I will handle it.” 

“What’s the real reason why you’re going to New Asgard?” 

Bucky and Steve looked at me with slight shock. 

“How do you know the name of his club?” Steve asked. 

I shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I’ve been there once or twice. It’s a crazy place and there’s only two reasons why people go there; sex and drugs.” 

Bucky ran a hand over his beard. “Is that why you went there?” 

I didn’t miss the jealousy in his voice. 

“Hell no. I went with my friend Wanda a year ago after she lost her boyfriend. She wanted to let loose and she did. It wasn’t my scene.” 

“But I do know that you’re not going to get in just the two of you,” I continued. “New Asgard has a strict rule of allowing male members inside when they’re alone.” 

Steve spoke next. “I’m sure if we tell them that we were there to talk with Thor, they’ll let us in.” 

I snorted. “If you wanted to talk with him, why don’t you meet with him at Asgard Industries?” 

The two men shared a look, not saying a word. 

“So if you want to get into his club, you’re going to need me,” I said while getting my things together. 

“Fuck no,” Bucky shook his head. “I’m not letting you go anywhere near Thor especially after how he was acting around you the last time.” 

I shrugged before slipping into my jacket. “Which is exactly why you need me tonight. I can distract him while the two of you do whatever it is you need to do. I’m assuming that is top secret mob boss stuff.” 

Their silence gave me their answer. 

“So,” I nodded. “I’ll meet you outside the club in one hour.” 

“Where are you going?” Steve questioned. 

“Home to change. Business attire isn’t exactly New Asgard dress code,” I informed him. 

Bucky shook his head in disagreement while grabbing my elbow to stop me. “I don’t like the idea of you throwing yourself onto Thor to help out Steve and I. We’re not going to be there in case something happens.” 

The fire from his touch burned all of my insides and I resisted the urge to taste him. So instead, I gently removed myself from his grasp. 

“Too bad it’s not up to you. I’ll meet you out front in one hour.” 

I ignored their protests, knowing that whatever their true intentions were tonight, that they needed me in order to distract Thor. 

My heels clicked loudly against the pavement in tangent with the loud bass blaring from the club as I walked up. There was a long line of people, waiting to get inside, but I knew that in order to get inside, there was no point in waiting in line. There was a slight chill in the air tonight as it wrapped around me, the bottom of my very tight dress doing nothing to warm my legs as it stopped just below my ass. The low cut was very revealing and the red color choice was perfect for tonight. 

Not for Thor but for Bucky. 

Word around the office was that he loved his women in red. 

I found the two men whispering to each other and when I walked up, it seized, both of their eyes drinking in my appearance. Steve simply licked his lips as his eyes looked me up and down. 

Bucky, however, wore a look I had never seen before. His breath caught in his throat while his jaw dropped, eyes turning dark. 

“Hi boys,” I smiled. 

Steve let out a low whistle. “You clean up nice.” 

“Thank you, Steve.” I looked towards Bucky, who still hadn’t uttered a word. 

“Cat got your tongue?” I teased. 

His tongue rolled slowly over his bottom lip and the sheer desire I felt oozing from his stare froze my feet in place. I suddenly felt small in front of him as his eyes grazed up from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, taking his sweet time over the swell of my chest. 

His eyes showed what he didn’t say; Bucky wanted to taste every inch of me. 

My skin burned with the thought. 

“Should we, uh, head inside?” I asked. 

Reluctantly, the men nodded and they followed me to the front of the line where one of Thor’s men stood with a clipboard in his hand, like the typical bouncer at a club. 

“Ms. Y/N, how are you? It’s been awhile,” he smiled. 

“Hello Heimdall!” I cheered while stepping into his open arms. “I’m sure Thor told you that he was expecting us tonight?” 

I nodded over my shoulder to Steve and Bucky, who were not too keen on me having this man's arms around me. 

Heimdall looked past me and wore a low scowl. “You know how we feel about outsiders on our streets, Y/N.” 

I let out a fake sigh. “I know and I’m so sorry. But I needed to see Thor and these two wouldn’t let me go alone. Something about New Asgard being too dangerous for a girl like me.” 

“As if you couldn’t handle yourself here. I’ve seen it a few times,” Heimdall reminded me. 

I snorted. “And yet you guys still allow me to come back.” 

Bucky sneaked up behind me, his hand ghosting over my lower back, and I felt his warm breath against my ear. “We need to get inside now, doll.” 

My body shivered and I peered down at his phone when I saw that he was showing me something. 

I’m alright, boss. But I can’t promise that I’ll be alive in the next hour. I’m sorry I got caught again. I promise it won’t happen again as long as you get me out of here.

“Fucking Peter Parker,” I grumbled. 

So that was the reason why we were here, to save Peter’s ass. 

“The faster we get inside, the faster we can leave, and these pathetic excuses of men stop gawking at you,” Bucky seethed. 

I saw what he was so upset about; a few men in the line waiting to go inside had averted looking from their dates to take in the sight of me. I smiled smugly towards Bucky. 

“Are you jealous?” 

His jaw tensed but remained silent, giving me my answer. I turned my attention back to Heimdall. 

“Well, it will be ten minutes, top. Promise,” I made an effort to make an X over my chest. 

Reluctantly, he nodded before stepping to the side, allowing the three of us to enter the club. 

The music radiated off of us and the heat from the packed bodies around us brought a fast sweat to my skin. Bucky and Steve were close to my side as we maneuvered our way through the crowd and over towards the bar. 

“So what did Parker get into this time?” I asked Bucky. 

He sighed. “He tried selling to Thor without knowing who he was so Thor was upset that Parker was dealing on his streets without getting a cut so now I have to save his ass.”

I ordered a drink from the bartender and smiled a thanks as she handed it to me. My eyes peered over the rim of the glass as I looked at Bucky. 

“I’m surprised you’re here to save him. I thought for sure it was a Steve or Sam kind of job,” I admitted. 

“He was adamant that he would come with me tonight,” Steve spoke from behind me. 

The feeling of his body pressed into my back from how close he was made me bite my lip when the large bulge in his pants pressed into the bareness of my thigh. This was a new feeling with Steve and as much as I loved the feeling of him pressed up against me, I knew that it would falter in a moment. 

“What’s the plan?” 

Bucky pointed with a vibranium finger towards a door far off in the distance. “That’s Thor’s office and most likely where he’s keeping Parker. You need to distract Thor long enough for Steve and I to save Parker.” 

I tossed back the rest of my drink and nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard.” 

“Hey,” Bucky grasped my hand, linking our fingers together. There was a shock that filled the both of us but I pushed the feeling to the side. 

“Can you promise that if you get a bad feeling, you leave? Meet in my car down the road?” 

I nodded. “Of course.” 

With a gentle squeeze, our hands dropped and I frowned at the sudden chill I felt but pushed on, hoping to find Thor in the crowded club. 

After a few minutes of searching and avoiding grabbing hands of the random men, I spotted Thor on the second level, sitting in his own secluded section. Our eyes locked and through gritted teeth, I forced a smile and gave him a wave. The look of excitement that crossed his lips did nothing to ease my nerves. He had been so persistent the other day when I first met him that I was a bit afraid of how he would be tonight. 

With a quick wave, I ascended up the steps to his section and had no issue passing the guard at the top of the stairs. 

“I was hoping you would show,” Thor beamed. 

“I did text you, didn’t I?” The fakeness in my voice scared me. 

He motioned to the open spot next to him on the couch. “Care for a drink?” 

I shook my head. “I’ve already had one, thank you. I’ve got to work in the morning.” 

Thor and I leaned back into the couch, his arm resting on the edge behind me. His long blonde hair had been braided back out of his face and his beard had been trimmed nicely. If I wasn't so creeped out with how forward he had been before, I would have found him attractive. 

“Barnes has you working late nights and early mornings, eh?” Thor asked. 

I shook my head yet again. “It isn't so bad. I did get to meet you, so that’s a perk.” 

My hand rested against his arm and I gave it a slight squeeze. Thor leaned in closer, his breath fanning against the crook of my neck, and his own hand began rubbing up and down the bare skin of my thigh. 

I froze under his touch when his fingers slipped underneath my dress. 

“Why don’t we move this to my office? Much more private there,” his lips brushed against my skin. 

I tried to move away from him but his grip on the inside of my thigh tightened. 

“You know what, I forgot my phone down at the bar. I should go grab it,” I lied. 

Thor ignored me, his fingers sliding farther up underneath my dress and I placed my hands over his to try to stop him. 

“Thor, stop. I don’t like this.” 

My words fell onto his deaf ears and I thrashed against him, tears welling in eyes, when I felt a finger hook into my panties. 

Suddenly, vibranium fingers wrapped around his throat and I let out a small scream, scooting farther away. Bucky had Thor pinned against the couch, his oxygen getting cut off instantly. 

“If I see you touching her like that again, I’ll make sure to end your life without a second thought, understood?” Bucky fumed. 

Thor couldn’t speak so he nodded and Bucky tossed him to the floor, his loud gasps of air echoing around us. 

Bucky was quick at my side scoping me up to my feet, his arms locked safely around me. 

“Are you alright, doll?” He asked. 

I shook my head, the tears falling, but my throat had closed up, not being able to speak. 

Redness covered me with embarrassment as I allowed this to happen, Thor getting that close to me. I wanted to help out Bucky and Steve so I let my guard down. 

“Don’t do that,” Bucky cupped my cheeks. “Do not blame yourself, Y/N. This wasn’t your fault.” 

It was as if he read my mind, knowing that I was blaming myself. 

I nodded in his grasp. “Can you take me home?” 

Bucky’s lips ghosted in my hairline and I melted into his embrace, my hands grasping at his back. 

“Of course, doll.” 

With soft sobs falling from my lips, I let Bucky lead me out of the club and the fresh air still did nothing to calm me.

[hypersonic04]

Part Six

I am SO sorry at the amount of time this took me to write. I am feeling inspired and excited to complete this series though, so watch. this. space. I also recommend listening to 'I Can See You' (TV) (FTV) whilst reading this because it is essentially that song that has fuelled this chapter.

Word Count: 2,746

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

I swing the door of the recording studio open harshly. My face feels flushed as I stand there, breathing heavily. Matty called me about twenty minutes ago, telling me to get to the studio ASAP in the name of an 'emergency'.

"It's fine, Ross has sorted it."

It's been six days since Ross left me in the middle of the pouring rain. No text message, no phone call, nothing. My stomach drops at the mention of his name, I've almost tried to pretend that he doesn't exist since that night.

"Seriously?" I huff, angry now.

"Yeah, it was just something with the software, could've lost everything." He says flippantly, glancing at me as i look at him in disbelief. "It's sorted now, though. Ross to the rescue, yet again."

I scoff at his choice of words, shaking my head and turning to leave.

"Oi," Matty's voice calls from behind me, "Why haven't you been in the studio this week?"

"I've just been busy." I turn to him, clearing my throat as I do so.

"Too busy for us?" He raises his eyebrows. "What, is it a guy? Is that why you've been acting weird?"

"No! No, it's not a guy." I feel my cheeks flush and wonder whether Ross has told him about our kiss the other night. I immediately squash that thought as I remember his attitude towards the whole thing, acting like it was a sin to have feelings, never mind a kiss.

"Then what is it? One minute you're really into it, the next you're barely answering my texts?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" I throw my arms in the air dramatically.

"It's not that you need to apologise, we're just worried about you. Me and the boys, I mean."

I swallow heavily, shifting my eyes around the room.

"Look, we're playing a show tomorrow night - please come." I look to Matty and see his dark eyes pleading, and I realise that I can't let some dickhead guy get in the way of what is not only a great work opportunity, but also a great friendship. "It's in Brixton, I can sort you out a car and everything."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

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

My palms are sweaty as I get ready, sat in front of the mirror. Ross and I haven't even remotely been near each other in over a week, yet those few seconds play like a stuck record in my head.

The way his stubble grazed against my soft skin. His thumbs pressed into my sides, burning through the fabric of my shirt, heat spreading across my body like wildfire. His aftershave, his lips, his tongue, him.

I snap myself out of my daydream, cheeks flushing at the way my stomach tosses and turns at the mere thought of him. I shouldn't feel like this - I should be angry, I should never want to see him ever again. After his outburst at the horrifying reality of our kiss, he disappeared, turning around and heading back down the road we'd walked up, ignoring the call of his name. He left me stood there, middle of the night, rain coming down in literal sheets, and didn't even bother to call me the next day, or the day after that?

I take a deep breath and gather myself. The car Matty booked arrives in twenty minutes - just enough time to down a shot of tequila and give myself a pep talk. I look in the mirror and sigh. Having had a panic when realising I had twenty four hours to gather a concert outfit, I'd settled on my usual - mini skirt, band t-shirt, dad's old leather jacket that is arguably just too oversized. With my hair pinned up and bangs curled, I line my lips and add a wing to my eyes, finally feeling ready.

The car beeps it's horn outside and I hurry, my boots heavy on the pavement as I rush down the steps.

I breathe deeply as we round the corner to the venue, nerves prickling up my back. Swallowing heavily, I thank the driver and get out of the car, my feet feeling heavy as I walk towards the entrance. It's around the back, but I can already hear the bustle of the queues around the front of the arena, even hours before the boys go on themselves.

"Wow, hello stranger!" George teases as I walk down the hallway, him coming towards me from the opposite direction. I roll my eyes in response and accept his hug.

"Nice to see you too." I tease.

"No, genuinely, did you disappear off of the face of the Earth? Abducted by aliens, maybe?"

"Give over." I laugh, following him into the green room. My eyes are already two steps ahead of my brain, scanning the room for him. "I've just been busy."

"Fair enough." He smiles. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yeah, go on then."

We sit and chat for a while before the other boys arrive, enjoying the quiet before the chaos.

"You know, I was talking to Ross earlier-"

My eyes widen at the words as they leave his mouth, and somehow become impossibly wider as he enters the room.

He's smiling sweetly, dimples and all, and I hate the way my eyes are glued to him. Hann, Jamie, Polly and Matty follow him in, waving sarcastically as he comes in and throws his coat across the sofa.

I stand up to greet him, his arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders.

"I'm glad you came." He says as he pulls away and I nod, not sure whether I feel the same in the moment.

I meet Ross' gaze for a second and he gives me a nod of sorts, and for the first time since that night, I feel angry. At him, at what he did, at the fact that he thinks he doesn't owe me an apology. I blink harshly and look away, inhaling sharply and making my way over to the bar cart. Pouring myself a strong drink, I gather my emotions and listen to the deep rumbling of his voice behind me.

"Yeah, it's packed outside already, loads of people." He says to George.

I sit on the sofa, legs crossed and eyes fixed on my phone as I scroll through meaningless, empty Instagram posts. There's a tension in the room, the kind that makes the air feel sticky and hot, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

My eyes flick up and he's looking at me. He doesn't look away. I hold his stare for a few seconds, looking at him through my lashes as he takes a sip of his beer, cursing myself as I give in and look back down at my phone. I listen as he talks to Jamie, and it's like someone's sucked the air out of my lungs as memories of that night flash into my mind. I stand up sharply, making my way towards the door. It's busy in the green room now, lots of family and friends chatting away, and I pray that the busy-ness of the room has made my exit discreet.

"Everything okay?" Matty's hand grips my forearm gently, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, just going for some air." I smile, nodding lightly.

My boots land heavily on the halls as I make my way towards the exit, weaving my way through the stage hands and guests busying their ways around.

I feel a cold hand on my arm, a gasp escaping my lungs as i'm pulled down a corridor. Instinctively, I try and pull away, but the firm grip has other ideas.

His eyes are dark, looking down at me with concern.

"It's me, it's just me."

"For fuck's sake, Ross!" I hit his arm, taking deep breaths and placing a hand on my chest as it falls and rises. He just watches me and I shake my head. "What? What is this?" I gesture around us.

"We need to talk." He says lowly, his eyes constantly looking to the hallway.

"Do you think so? Yeah, maybe you're right, maybe we do need to talk after you left-"

"Stop shouting." He says blankly, his voice still quiet.

"I cannot believe this." I laugh sarcastically and attempt to leave, but again, his fingertips find my arm.

"Please."

I meet his eyes and they look sad. Like, genuinely sad. I feel the anger in my stomach start to dissipate, sighing as I tilt my head at him.

"Are you going to tell me what happened, then?" I give in, folding my arms across my chest.

He looks both ways down the hallway, double-checking that no one will hear the criminal thing he did. I roll my eyes as he does so.

"I panicked."

I look at him blankly. "That's it? That's all you've got to say, you panicked?"

"Yeah, I panicked. I worried what the boys would say, I panicked that i would look like a fucking idiot if you didn't feel the same. Yeah, I panicked, Iris." He raises his eyebrows at me and I feel guilty for a second before I remember how he made me feel.

"So you just left me? Ross, I could have been killed, it was like 2AM, and you just left me! That's not an excuse!"

"I know, and I'm sorry!"

"I'm not arguing with you about this."

"Iris, this isn't an argument, I'm explaining what happened."

"Explaining? Don't you think I deserve a proper apology?"

"You do, and I've said I'm sorry. Iris, please, just listen to my side of things." He looks down at me and runs a hand through his hair, his chest rising underneath his t shirt as he rests his other hand on his hip. It takes everything in me to keep the blush from creeping into my cheeks, because despite how angry I am right now, he's still so hot.

"Go on, then." I put my hands on my hips and look at him expectantly, the eye contact between us making me blush no matter how hard i try not to.

"I said all those things to you, and I worried that I'd said too much and that everything was going to go up in flames. You work really well with the band, and I didn't want me to ruin everything." he looks down at his feet for a second. "I just... I'm sorry I left you there. I really am. It was a really shit thing to do, and if I could go back, I'd change things, and-"

"Well, you can't Ross." I sigh. "But thank you. For apologising, I mean, and explaining, i guess."

"Are we okay, Iris?" He looks at me with those big, puppy dog eyes, and if organs could melt, i think my heart would be in a puddle. "I know we were never really good, but are we okay, at least?"

"Yeah, we're okay." I nod, pursing my lips and kicking the floor with the toe of my boot. He nods in approval, awkwardly stood in front of me as the silence grows tense again. "Was I really that bad of a kisser?"

He scoffs at me and smiles, and despite everything that's happened between us, I can't help but grin. "No, you definitely weren't, Iris."

My cheeks flush bright red and I laugh awkwardly.

"Okay, I'm going to leave now." I nod and he smiles at me, and I wish I could just dip into his mind and know what he's thinking as our gazes connect, unable to tear away from each other. "I'm leaving now."

I spend the evening in the green room with the boys' families as they get ready to go on stage. Someone comes to tell us they're going on in five, so we make our way to the stage.

Walking down the hallway, I see the boys heading in the opposite direction, presumably through a different entrance.

It's like slow motion. I meet Ross' tall figure - he's wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up halfway, hair up, black trousers on. He maintains the eye contact as he gets closer, and as he brushes past me, I feel our fingertips meet. Gentle, cold, soft, electric. It's like touching an open flame, yet I don't pull my hand away. I can't breathe at the proximity of him, our chests close as he turns to the side to ease past me in the small hallway.

Glancing up at him, there's an unfamiliar look on his face - a smirk. His lips curve upwards cockily as he passes me, and I work hard to turn away from him.

The entire show goes by in a blur - a blur of excitement, desire, tension. The band sound great, and even perform a snippet of a song we've been working on, but he is all I can look at, tall and broad as he skilfully plays away. Seeing him in his element makes me feel a different level of attraction to him.

As the show ends and the crowd screams for them, he meets my gaze at the side of the stage, that same smile appearing. I cheer, whistling for him and he laughs lightly. I smile to myself as I realise that this is truly the first friendly interaction we've had, if friendly is what you can call this. The show ends and the crowds filter out, everyone backstage congratulating the band and bottles of champagne being popped. I try to distract myself from his looming presence in the room, his mind clearly elsewhere as he chats with people from the label.

My eyes follow him as he makes his way towards the door, tall and strong, excusing himself politely as he curbs around people. When he reaches the door, i watch as he searches the room, finally meeting my gaze and cocking his head. I inhale sharply, blushing both because of the fact that I was staring, but also the intimacy of his gesture.

I do as I'm told - I excuse myself from the conversation with Matty's aunties and leave the room. He slips into a room further down the hallway, and I notice that he leaves the door open.

"Ross, what-"

The second I enter the room, he's closing the door behind us and I'm pressed up against it. His hands are either side of my head, his face impossibly close to mine, and I feel my body go like putty under his presence. My lips part as his eyes are trained on my face, and the fire is lit in my stomach.

"I thought about you while I was out there." His deep voice murmurs. "The whole time."

"The whole time?"

He hums in reply and I squeeze my legs together. He notices and I blush.

"I thought we were okay, Ross."

"We'll never be okay, Iris."

I subconsciously move my hands up his shirt, watching as he closes his eyes. He moves his head to the side for a moment, almost like he's thinking about the pro's and con's of this situation.

"They don't have to know, if that's what you're worried about." I say quietly, my mind clouded in the darkness of the room.

He looks back to me and shakes his head lightly. "They'll know." He huffs, not moving. "I need you, Iris."

I scratch the hair at the nape of his neck lightly and hear the low groan escape his throat.

I can't take it anymore - I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his, and it's like taking a cold shower after a hot day. His lips on mine are relieving.

"Are you sure?" He mumbles against me as his hands move underneath my shirt, rubbing and circling at the soft skin at my waist.

"I'm sure." I nod, probably seeming a little desperate.

His hands trail down my thighs, pulling the tiny mini skirt even higher if possibly. The groans and hums that leave his mouth have me reeling.

I push him backwards, his knees hitting the sofa behind him and forcing him to sit down. His eyes are impossibly dark, clouded with desire and needy as I stand in front of him.

"You're not going to leave me in the middle of this, are you?" I tease as I move to straddle him using my thumb to wipe away the lipstick smeared in his cheek.

"Never." he murmurs as his lips find my neck, forcing my eyes shut.

[yallwildinrn]

Snake in the Grass: Chapter 1

For @ckhalloween23's catch-all prompt: An Empty Grave

This is a horror fic I've been working on since May or June. Given my current pace, it probably won't be out until the latter half of next year, butttt since I have this first chapter done (and I wanted it to be done in time for Halloween of this year), I figured I'd go ahead and post this as a preview and a treat! Well, treat for you guys and me haha.

Content warning for alcohol, bars, and general spookiness.

Pool balls whizz & clack against one another, but the sound is mostly drowned out. The bar, while not packed, is bustling with life, as is typical for a Friday evening; the sounds of yelling, laughter, and glasses clinking fill the already cramped space. It’s the victory cry of men who have been itching for the work week to finally, finally, end.

Dim, warm lights mask dirty floors and mysterious stains of unknown origin that seem to infect any and every upholstered seat. The single TV crammed into the back corner behind the bar top has caught the attention of several men, all shouting and celebrating – or complaining – at every pitch of the game with gnashing teeth. The bartender scrambles to sling out drink after drink of who-knows-what for the night’s customers.

Johnny himself is seated at a round, wooden table shoved near the back of the room. It’s almost uncomfortably close to the billiards tables, and each shrill hit against the pool balls becomes harder to ignore as the night wears on. He’s got some good distraction, though.

He lounges in his chair with a Coors in hand, surrounded by his friends. Bobby sits at his right, sipping his bourbon, while counterclockwise from there are Jimmy, Dutch, and Tommy. It’s tight, mostly because they had to steal a seat for Jimmy, but Johnny doesn’t mind. Not a damn bit.

He takes a long, slow sip from his drink. He still can’t believe they graduated from West Valley six whole years ago, and yet here they are, still thick as thieves. It’s not the same as it was back in high school (images of late-night, high-speed rides on their Hondas and getting plastered on the beach come to mind), but given how damn busy they all are, it’s an impressive amount of effort to keep traditions & meet-ups alive – like these monthly get-togethers at the bar, for example.

Johnny half-listens to a light-hearted argument between Tommy & Jimmy about baseball players he doesn’t give a shit about. Dutch, caught in the middle, has decided to antagonize the two of them by playing devil’s advocate for both sides. Things are getting heated, but it’s nothing Johnny finds worth worrying about. A nudge to Johnny’s arm snatches his attention away, and he turns to see Bobby with an expectant gaze and a soft, tipsy smile on his lips. Johnny reciprocates the smile without even thinking; he can thank the fact that he’s at least a few drinks in for that.

Bobby’s eyes sparkle as he leans towards Johnny. His cheeks are flushed, and his breath is rich and yeasty, laced with just a hint of sweetness. He smirks at Johnny and says, “I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s your back doing, old man?”

Anddd there it is. Johnny rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he answers, “Well, I’m no longer bed-ridden, so there’s that. I think I’ll be good to go back in a week or two once Dr. Gates gives me the green-light. I’m not supposed to see her for another two weeks, but if I feel better before then, I’m gonna see if she can squeeze me in, see if I can get back to work sooner.”

Bobby raises his brows in a look of mock shock, but it’s accompanied by a wry smile. “Did I just hear Johnny Lawrence say he’s trying to get back to work sooner? Thought you had worker’s comp to fall back on?”

“I do,” Johnny explains, snatching the neck of his Coors. The glass is smothered with wet drops of condensation that leave watery rings on the tabletop. “Just turns out that worker’s comp isn’t nearly as good as a roofing job. Pays the bills, but man.”

Johnny shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer. The icy cold liquid feels like a blessing, and he sighs as the bottle leaves his lips.

Bobby shrugs a little awkwardly. He tries to reassure Johnny as best he can by reminding him, “Hey, at least you’re getting comp this time.”

Johnny frowns harshly and shuts his eyes for a moment like he’s trying to will away a headache. He sets his beer down with a soft thunk, and the moisture clinging to the glass is already dripping back onto the table. He glares at a nearby wall and mutters, “Don’t remind me.”

“I’m just saying,” Bobby starts with a warm smile, swishing the alcohol in his glass with one hand. “Not working under the table has its perks.”

Another round of loud cheers fills the room. Sounds like someone finally hit the damn ball. “Yeah, but the government also takes half my damn paycheck. Jimmy still hasn’t helped me figure out how to deduct all my taxes yet,” Johnny says, loudly pulling Jimmy into the conversation.

Jimmy turns away from his own conversation with Tommy & Dutch. He leans onto an elbow and smiles at Johnny, but it’s certainly not genuine; if anything, there’s a bite to it. He answers, “Just because I’m an accountant doesn’t mean I can magically fix your taxes, Johnny. Become a business, then we can talk.”

Johnny flips him off, earning a round of chuckles around the table as Jimmy rolls his eyes and relaxes back into his seat. Dutch points at Jimmy with his beer bottle and asks the accountant, “Speaking of, have you finally been let out of your cage? First time we’ve seen you in, what? Months?”

Jimmy sighs, and Johnny realizes that the polo Jimmy’s wearing is probably the most casual thing he’s worn out and about in a while. “Tax season is finally over. Thank god for that,” Jimmy trails off, and he takes a long swig from his glass.

Tommy eyes his friends and pipes up, “Too late for another round of shots?”

Another round sounds fucking amazing. Johnny instead answers, “I’d love to, but my wallet says no.”

Bobby chimes in, “My liver also says no. That first round was enough for me.”

Dutch’s face crinkles into disappointment as he boos Bobby from across the table. His chair tips back an almost dangerous amount while he does. He shakes his head and laments, “Ya think you know a guy, but then he goes to priest school and becomes a damn prude.”

Bobby glares at him as his grip tightens on his glass. “It’s called seminary, and I’m becoming a pastor, not a priest.”

Tommy snickers & nudges Dutch, giving him a mischievous look. He points out, “Didn’t say he wasn’t a prude.”

Johnny snorts, earning himself a Bobby-patented glare, which then sends him into a laughing fit. Sometimes it can genuinely be scary to be on the receiving end of that gaze, but most of the time (especially after all these years,) it’s become damn hilarious. There’s another vicious clack of the pool balls; the start of a new game.

“I hate all of you,” Bobby huffs. He crosses his arms and leans back into his chair, dragging his gaze across the figures of his (almost) drunk friends, who are still much more sober than half of the room. “Why do I even hang out with you assholes? What did I do to deserve this?”

Jimmy sips on his glass and looks at Bobby. His lips curl into a wry smile. “Be a prude?”

Johnny thinks he can see a vein bulge in Bobby’s forehead, and he has to stifle another snort. Bobby’s lips pull into a tight, frustrated line across his face. He finishes the last of his bourbon with a small gulp and slaps his palm onto the table so he can push himself out of his chair. “I fucking hate you. All of you. I’m getting another drink.”

He pushes his chair back in with his foot and starts to weave through the maze of people & tables, and Tommy smiles like a Cheshire cat and calls out, “Can you-?”

“No,” Bobby yells back as he crosses the bustling room. Tommy cackles in his seat, and Dutch follows suit, clapping a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and howling beside him. Johnny simply shakes his head and leans onto the table, resting on his forearms.

The wood sticks to his skin. He can only imagine how much dust is trapped under layers of sticky god-knows-what. Probably more than he realizes. It’s kind of gross to think about, but it doesn’t really faze him, especially when everything about this bar fits that bill. Not much about this place is great: the bartender’s a dick, the bowls of pretzels are stale as shit and few & far between, it’s impossible to find a seat without a weird stain on it, and there’s never more than two beers on tap.

That doesn’t mean it’s all bad, though. Johnny never has to worry about them running out of Coors. It’s a pretty good distance between all their places. The prices aren’t half bad, and hell, it doesn’t even come close to gracing their top ten list of “Shittiest Bars This Side of California!” So yeah, really not all bad, at least if you ask him.

Tommy’s hyena-like cackle grabs Johnny’s attention and pulls him back into whatever conversations he’s missed. “No, no,” Tommy starts, smiling wide. “I’m just- can you believe any of us actually graduated?”

Jimmy levies Tommy with a self-satisfied smile. “No, I actually can’t believe any of you guys graduated,” he teases. Tommy rolls his eyes.

Dutch scowls. “Yes, yes, we know. You made an A once and got into a big boy college, keep it in your pants,” He replies gruffly, finishing his statement with a swig.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tommy elaborates dryly while gesturing with his drink. “You’re not wrong, but think about it. Our senior year was such a shitshow.”

Dutch smirks and looks Johnny’s way. “I blame Romeo over here. Had no idea a breakup would lead to all that bullshit with LaRusso.”

Johnny stifles at the comment, and his cheeks flush – now red from more than just the alcohol – as he glares at Dutch. He’s about to bark out a comeback, but Bobby cuts him off when he comes sauntering back, freshly filled glass in hand, and retorts, “Oh please, we’re all to blame. We escalated it when we should’ve just left things alone.”

Bobby slides into his chair a little ungracefully, wood scraping against the floor, while Dutch shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He nods his head down a little sheepishly because… yeah. Bobby’s right, as much Johnny hates to admit it. Back at West Valley, they were all chomping at the bit to put the twerp in his place, but none of that needed to happen or even should have happened. They saw red, and LaRusso got caught in the crossfire. It was like they didn’t even see him. Just a conveniently placed punching bag.

The table’s air stills; the rest of the bar continues to thrum with activity while the atmosphere of their little corner slowly ices over. Johnny purses his lips and sips at his beer. Guilt gnaws his ribcage. Even after all these years, after the apologies and many, many steps to make things right, he’s still stuck with bitter memories that choke him up. He opts to study the many dings & scratches on the table rather than meet any of his friends’ eyes.

Jimmy’s the first to break the tense silence. “You know, if we have anyone to blame, it’s Kreese,” he spits out. It hits Johnny like a jab to the chest. He’s taken aback as Jimmy says this, but the man continues, “He put so much bullshit in our heads! All that punch first, think second nonsense. Like, come on-”

“Wait, wait,” Johnny interrupts while waving his hand to stop Jimmy in his tracks. How can he just say that? “Look, he was a total douchebag – I should fucking know – but we’re the ones who took what he said too far. We were still the ones who fucked with LaRusso. He didn’t tell us to do any of that shit.”

Tommy shifts beside him and stumbles over his words. “Yeah, like- but- Look, okay, you’re right, it’s totally on us for taking shit way too far, but Johnny,” Tommy says, and he turns to Johnny with pleading eyes. “He literally taught us to have no mercy. Literally. That’s not an exaggeration.”

Johnny frowns. “Yeah, but we took it out of context. He obviously meant to not take no for an answer, to- to keep pushing on despite the circumstances,” he explains. Are they seriously saying this shit? Even after all these years? After everything Kreese did for them? For fuck’s sake…

Dutch is next to speak. He throws Johnny an odd look as he adds, “Did we go to the same Cobra Kai? Because the one I went to taught us to do fucking everything to the extreme. Including the no mercy shit. Hell, he even had us do karate to the extreme. All those extra goddamn practices…”

“Yeah, and they were good for us. We needed some discipline!” Johnny snaps back defensively. His blood is starting to boil with every bullshit argument that his friends make.

He starts to bounce his leg. The sounds of laughter pouring out from a nearby table makes him want to snarl. He doesn’t get it, how can his friends just- just pass the blame onto Kreese? The guy at least tried to help them and make them into better people (before his sensei lost his mind, that is.)

Johnny turns to Bobby, who’s worrying his lip and squirming like he’s sitting on an anthill. “Come on,” Johnny says. “Back me up here.”

Bobby looks away from Johnny, jaw tense, but he turns back. He lets out a breath, look Johnny square on with a worrying level of sincerity, and says, “Johnny. Kreese worked us so hard once that you forget it was Ali’s birthday. She broke up with you over that.”

Johnny’s skin buzzes. He’s all too aware of the overpowering noise of the room. Hell, he feels like he can feel the next table over breathing on him. His stomach rolls. “That is not what happened,” Johnny insists with a hard stare. “Practice that day was not that bad. I remember it. It was fine.”

Tommy scoffs, “Then why were you so quick to go out drinking with us?”

Johnny’s more tense than a stretched-out rubber band, and he feels like he’s going to snap like one, too. He scowls and answers, “I forgot because…”

Johnny blinks and turns his gaze down. Sweat collects at the back of his neck while his chest tightens.

“No, I-I forgot because…”

His mouth is a cotton ball. He’s reaching into his mind, searching for the memory, but he just… it’s not right. It’s there, but somehow, it also isn’t. He remembers being brought in for an extra practice with his cobras, Twig being brought in to watch & help, the end of practice, getting ready to leave, and then…

His temples throb as tries harder to remember, but he can’t. There’s a gap, a void where something should be. It’s not like he’s just forgotten the details, god no. He’s actively reaching into his mind, searching and grasping for what should be there, sandwiched between the sparring and the night at the bar, but he just… He can’t. He can’t get there. Every time he thinks he’s brushing against what might be the memory in question, a pulsing throb shakes his skull, and it rattles his train of thought loose.

His eyes dart between his friends. His heart pounds furiously against his vice of a ribcage, and he wipes his sweaty palms against the thighs of his pants. Their faces are a varied array of distress and confusion. Why do they look like that? Are they trying – and failing – to remember, just like him? Shit, why can’t he remember?

A chill threatens to run down his spine. Could he ever remember?

When he was fresh off the breakup with Ali, he would spend hours torturing himself with all the ways he screwed things up; it was his way of trying to nail down exactly what he did wrong. Except… he always left that practice turned night-on-the-town alone. He never touched it, to his knowledge. Is- Is this why? Every time he tried to play the events over in his mind, would he get to this downright anomaly of a gap in his memory, and did it make him feel- well, make him feel like he does now? Sick and shaken?

Is that why he never, never thinks about the inciting incident that led Ali to yell at him and tell him things were done? Did the avoidance become muscle memory at some point so he would never try to recall that night & the memories associated with it?

He knows the answer. He doesn’t like it.

It doesn’t even feel natural. It’s not like he just forgot; no, it’s more like something was ripped out unceremoniously or maybe strangled and hidden in an unreachable corner of his mind. Does it matter what type of wrong it is? He wipes the sweat from his brow; the heat from the crowd of the bar tonight has finally caught up to him, it seems.

His mind circles back. Why can’t he remember? Why is there a gap? How long has it been there? Has- has it always been there? And not just any gap. No, a gap that, when he tries to recall upon what should be there, snaps up & bites him like a cornered animal. His head is throbbing. He fumbles for his beer and takes a long drink.

He looks again to his friends. He can only imagine the expression on his own face given theirs. He takes a chance and says, “Please tell me I-I’m not the only one who…”

Bobby slowly shakes his head, eyebrows knit, but he doesn’t meet Johnny’s gaze. Jimmy and Dutch don’t move; they simply squirm and keep their eyes down. Tommy’s chest is heaving as he sits up straight and looks ahead with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Johnny knows they must be in the same boat as him. They have to be.

Tommy answers with a shaky voice, “Who what?” Johnny almost drops his mouth wide open. Tommy’s asking that even though the man isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes and looks like he wants to run out of the room?

“Who what? What do you mean who what?” Johnny asks incredulously. “Who- who can’t fucking remember what happened that night!”

Tommy’s smiling, but it’s strained. He answers, voice as tight as his lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Johnny grips his Coors so hard he thinks it’s going to shatter in his hands. “What do you mean what I’m-? You know exactly what I mean. Look at us! Look at yourself! Something’s not right.”

“Johnny,” Bobby pleads. At some point he rested his forehead in his hands, elbows on the table. “You’re- you’re not wrong, but Christ-”

Johnny turns to face Bobby with an eager gaze. He cuts him off, saying, “You can’t remember, either. It’s not just me. Something’s wrong.”

Bobby sighs through his nose. He’s getting frustrated; it’s a tell Johnny knows well. “No, Johnny,” Bobby says shortly. “I can’t remember. But I don’t want to. God, I just… I think I can speak for all of us when I say let’s just drop it. Please. I don’t want to think about-”

Bobby’s practically pleading, but Johnny doesn’t care. What’s more fucking important: a little bit of discomfort or the fact none of them remember the same exact damn thing?

Johnny cuts him off again and snarls, “About the fact there’s a fucking gap in our memories? The same gap for all of us, I’m willing to bet? One we’ve probably had since that night?”

Bobby shuts his eyes, and Johnny’s not sure if the man is going to cry or punch him, but given their shared history at Cobra Kai, it’s probably the latter. Dutch speaks up next, snapping, “Johnny! Just drop it! Yes, our memories are fucked, big whoop. I don’t care! I don’t want to think about it either! I don’t know about you, but I don’t like trying to remember and feeling my skin try to crawl off my body.”

Johnny drums his fingers against his bottle. He can’t fight the scowl on his lips. “Seriously? You’re just going to ignore this? Just like that?”

Dutch laughs bitterly. “Seems like we’ve been doing that for years, man,” he says with a shake of the head, but he pauses and looks Johnny straight on. “You know what? Hold on, let me ask you something. Let’s say we do talk about this shit. Have a little pow-wow and Agatha Christie our way through this bullshit. What the hell would we even do? Seriously, how in the fuck would you even recommend we- we try to fix this? Please, share with the class!”

Johnny opens his mouth to answer but shuts it tight in that same instant. His cheeks flush again. He genuinely has no idea where to start, actually. He does know that if they work together, they might have a shot, but Dutch writing him off with that cruel smile makes Johnny want to scream.

“Exactly,” Dutch says like the self-assured bastard he is, gesturing at Johnny with his drink in hand. “We can’t do shit, and since we’ve gone this long without thinking about it, why stop now? Sounds like none of us want to think about it, for christ’s sake.”

Johnny’s throat is tight. He can hardly believe what Dutch is saying. What Tommy and Bobby have been fucking saying. His blood pulses under his skin, and he turns to Jimmy, almost begging, “Jimmy. Come on, back me up. We can’t just pretend this never happened.”

Jimmy doesn’t look him in the eye, and it’s enough to make Johnny’s heart sink. The brunette swallows, lips turned downward ever so slightly, and he hesitantly answers, “Look, I-I’m sorry Johnny. I can’t. Why don’t we just… let sleeping dogs lie? All remembering does is hurt, and we can’t do anything about it, so why can’t we just…”

Johnny screws his eyes shut tight and flexes a hand in and out of a fist a few times. He brings his Coors to his lips, takes a healthy gulp, and slams the bottle back onto the table with enough force to make his friends jump a little. He glares at them all. He can hardly believe all the bullshit he’s heard tonight.

“Why can’t I just what? Drop it? Why aren’t you pussies willing to do anything about this?! It’s not right! Something is fucking wrong, and you just want to act like nothing happened!” Johnny says. His voice is starting to raise, and he’s getting the attention of a few nearby patrons, but quite frankly, he doesn’t give a shit. Fuck ‘em. “What is wrong with you guys? Who gives a fuck if it hurts to think about it! Something is wrong, and it sure as hell wasn’t just forgotten. It’s gone. Or- or it’s there and we just can’t reach it but- Who cares! It’s still weird as shit, and you’re all just pretending like nothing fucking happened like a bunch of pussies!”

Bobby attempts to soothe him by saying, “Johnny, please, I don’t think this is as bad as you’re saying.”

Johnny feels his muscles tense, and he swears to god, he might break a tooth from how hard his jaw is clenched. He gets tunnel vision for a moment, only able to focus on the traitorous words that just came out of Bobby’s mouth, and when his vision clears, everything is suddenly too much again – screeching pool balls, wails & shouts from the crowd around them, the way his body is vibrating under his skin. He has to fight against the urge to throw & shatter his beer bottle on the ground (likely only because he’s not done quite with it yet).

He can’t believe that Bobby of all people would say that to him. Talk down to him like that. That simple sentence rubs him raw like coarse sandpaper dragged his skin. It conjures up painful memories of his mom brushing aside his pleas for help and, on occasion, Kreese asking him through a sneer if he’s a loser. And worst of all, Bobby knows this, better than anyone else. He’s been the one to listen to Johnny rant and rage about being brushed off and ignored. He knows how that phrase sets Johnny’s blood alight.

Johnny chugs the rest of his beer in one fell swoop and steps out of his chair so fast & hard it tumbles. He doesn’t even bother picking it up. He bites out, “Fuck this. I’m going home. I don’t give a fuck what you do. Pretend for all I care! Don’t come crying to me when this shit blows up in all of our faces.”

Johnny ignores Bobby’s protests as he begins to chase after the taller man, trying to get Johnny to talk to him or whatever. Johnny can’t talk to him, won’t. He can’t even look at him right now. He grits his teeth as he weaves between people, and the longer Bobby follows, the more certain Johnny becomes that he really might start swinging.

Johnny has to shoulder his way into an open spot and wait for the bartender to slide by, but flashing some cash is all it takes to grab his attention. He feels like his skin is going to vibrate right off his body, and he snaps at some asshole sitting beside him who tells him to watch it.

Bobby catches up to Johnny as he’s trying to pay the bartender, worthless platitudes tumbling out of his mouth, and Johnny hisses through clenched teeth, “If you don’t lay off, I’m gonna knock your teeth out, I swear to god.”

It works as intended. Bobby steps back, startled and wide-eyed. Johnny knows he looks a little wild right now, but he just does not care. He feels like he’s one wrong word or move away from snapping, from saying & doing shit he’s going to regret. He just wants to get out of this fucking bar and away from his shithead friends.

Johnny breathes a small sigh of relief when Bobby accepts defeat and slinks back to the table stuffed in the back of the room. He always was the smartest of the five of them. He knew when it was time to leave things be before it blew up in their faces. Johnny thinks of Daniel, and he feels a little sick, but it’s replaced with another wave of hot, tepid anger again, the same kind that haunted him all through high school.

With his tab paid, Johnny shoves his way out of the bar, other patrons throwing protests, swears, & a few obscene gestures at him, but Johnny makes himself ignore it and pushes on. If he starts to pay attention and care right now, even a little, he’s probably gonna get the cops called on his ass, and he just- he can’t deal with that on top of everything else tonight.

He opens the bar door with a hard shove, and the chill night air washes over him. While the streets are neither silent nor empty, it’s still much better than the bar, and he feels his chest loosen enough that he can breathe again. He stomps over to his Avanti, and halfway through sticking his key into the door’s lock, he decides that he doesn’t have enough beer at home to deal with this night.

[logical-grave]

𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕗𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕥 ℂ𝕙. 𝟚

|| Pairing || - Dilf!andy barber x reader

|| Warning || - Some fingering, pet names, infidelity, looots of touching hehe but yes lmk if I missed anything :) and ofc, andy barber himself

|| A/N || - uuum this chapter is kind of filler kinda not, i will not lie but still, im excited for you to read it!!

|| Word count || - 1.7k

It seemed right that we frequent the salty ocean as much as we could this week. A satisfying rest settled on me as we approached the cabanas littered on the sandbank, the sun beaming down on us, the warmth compared to a hug. It was nice, serene even. Of course, I couldn't experience this alone since my father extended an invitation to the Barbers. I didn't want to assume it but they very much could be using us as a distraction. From what I've seen, they all had very little to converse about or want to.

I placed my bag on the white cushion of the cabana, removing myself as far away as I could from the Barbers. “This is so nice, I could get used to this.” Ms. Barber smiled as she lay on their cabana, resting on the recline of the bed. “Jacob, sweetheart, I don’t want you on your device today, why don’t you go play with those boys over there?” She suggested to her adolescent son, a groan emitting from him in annoyance. I hid a snicker in my shoulder, Rose playfully hitting my back as a way to tell me to knock it off. “George, this is good. Where’d you find this place?” Mr. Barber asked, removing the shirt from over his head and I looked away. I wasn’t going to let myself catch the details of his torso, fear that the sunglasses rating on my nose aren't tinted enough to not give away my wandering eyes.

“It’s a ‘locals only’ find, been coming here since she was born,” My father responded, lathering himself with sunscreen, causing me to shake my head since he was never one to properly rub it in and parade around with a sheen of white over his skin. “I’m going to grab a drink, does anyone want anything?” Mr. Barber started stepping towards the restaurant that just sat off the sand with an adjoining bar before turning and asking the question. He mentally took the group's orders before continuing on his way, but not until he spoke again. “Sweetheart, you mind giving this old man a hand?” He grinned an innocent smile, nothing anyone would give a second thought to yet I knew better.

I shook my head, “I was gonna jump in now. I have faith you’re more than capable,” flashing a smile at him. “Don’t be rude. She’ll be happy to help.” My father narrowed his eyes at me and I sighed, digging my feet into the warm sand as I rounded our cabana to catch up to Mr. Barber. I cautiously took my time walking with him, making sure I was lacking just a few steps behind him. He reached the bar just off to the side of the restaurant, the cold tile contrasting the sand we walked away from. I paused as Mr. Barber sat on a barstool, pulling the one to his right closer to him before patting the faux leather as he tilted his head toward me. Sighing, I pushed the glasses on my face onto my head as I reluctantly took the seat beside him.

He tapped the wood counter of the bar, the bartender preoccupied with other patrons. “I studied in Italy during my sophomore year of college. At least that's what I like to say,” He looked over at me and I avoided giving him a response, choosing rather snack on the bowl of peanuts set between us. His hand dropped from the counter onto my thigh, giving it a light squeeze. My hand fell just on top of his, our actions imitating the ones of dinner a couple of nights ago. “What is your deal?” I asked, pushing his hand off my thigh as a smile spread across his face. “Just trying to pinpoint exactly how far I have to push before you open these up.” He trailed a finger up the inside of my thigh, making me do a sharp intake.

“What about your wife? Sorry that I'm not looking forward to damaging the purity of your marriage.” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest as I crossed my leg, causing him to remove his hand. “She got bored. Decided the personal trainer helping her get her ass back after having Jacob entertain her better than I could.” He sighed, looking over at the bartender to see if he was anywhere near taking our order. I couldn't help to give him a small look of sympathy even if he was turned away. Even imagining the one person you’re supposed to trust and love for the rest of your life betraying exactly that and taking advantage of your naivety that was blinded by the love of your partner.

“So your partner's daughter is the best way to retaliate? I’m sure you could have your pick, I'm just unsure as to why you fixate on me.” I spoke softly, my eyes focusing on my hands which now lie in my lap. My attention was grasped as he stood off his barstool, towering over my frame as he extended his hand out towards me. I gave it a hesitant look, my eyes searching for our families on the beach, and was surprisingly relieved to not be able to look for them anywhere. “What if they come looking for us? This is too risky, Mr. Barber.” I pointed out and I could tell the risk passed through his mind. “Come on, Honey.” He spoke.

I took his hand, my heart beginning to beat a little quicker in my chest. Mr. Barber stuck to the wall of the restaurant, the hallway of the restroom coming into view. My eyes looked before me, the structure of his back looking as if something he works to maintain. I resisted my other hand to lift and trace his muscles in awe, the beating of my heart beginning to hammer in my ears as we neared the family restroom, the two of us slipping in before any eyes could catch us. He locked the handle behind himself, and my palms beginning to accumulate some moisture as nerves started to flutter in my stomach.

He turned towards me, invading the little space we had separating us just moments prior. His hand came to cup my cheek, smoothing his thumb over my cheekbone, moving to skim my bottom lip. He caught the tip of his finger on my lip, “open,” he commanded, pressing the pad of his thumb on the surface of my tongue, his fingers grasping my chin. I’m not sure if it was his tone that controlled the reaction to his command from my body but something allowed his other hand to find its way to the small of my back, pushing my hips against his front. “Good girl,” he complimented, his thumb leaving my mouth. “It's the way you react that makes me fixate on you. The way you try to resist and yet give at the moment I tell you what to do.” He whispered, his eyes searching my face, his breath lightly fanning over my lips.

“We shouldn't be doing this, Mr. Barber,” I mumbled, my neck exposing itself more as he began to place chaste kisses on my skin, his hand cupping my breast through my swimsuit, my nipple rising at the feeling of his kneading hold. “Andy, baby. Call me Andy.” He stepped forward just until my lower back met the cold tile of the bathroom counter, his left hand hooking under my knee to wrap around his waist. The feeling of his cock pressed against my clothed cunt, a gasp coming from me at the feeling. “Andy, please.” I softly whined as his hand cupped my breast out of my bathing suit, his mouth trailing to find my nipple between his lips. I tugged at his hair, electricity coating my skin wherever he touched it.

He reached down between us, moving my bathing suit to the side, the strain of the tight fabric circulating my thigh. “Wait, we shouldn't,” I made a small effort to remove him from me and he unlatched my nipple, his touch leaving me cold as he took a step back to take in my image. “Look at you, dripping and ready for me and I barely touched you.” He teased and I instinctively closed my thigh, embarrassment making my cheeks flush. I watched as he approached me once more, using his waist to part my legs and I didn't make an effort to refuse his advance. He maintained his eyes with mine, his hand reaching to toy with my entrance. His fingers slipped in with ease, moans emitting from both of us at the feeling and I arched my back off the surface behind me. “Andy,” I gripped his wrist in shock at the feeling, slightly because if he moved his hand, I’d stop before he could. “Fuck, you’re so warm.” I looked to see his swim shorts had formed a bulge, making me take my bottom lip between my teeth.

I moaned as he twisted his hand, curling his fingers inside me, his thumb rubbing small soft circles over my clit. My thighs felt tight, the nerves he was touching causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. As a rude gesture, he drew his hand away, making me narrowly glare at him but I relaxed as he studied his fingers, my slick glistening in the low hue of the light. With eyes set on my own, I watched as he placed his fingers in his mouth, exposing a deep moan from his throat as he savored my taste on his tongue. My mouth hung open at the lewd image before me, the intimacy of tasting me causing me to scramble any thoughts I had prior. “Nobody is allowed to touch you like this except for me, understand? ”He commanded and I quickly nodded. He reached as if to touch me again but instead, he stretched the fabric of my bathing suit back into place as I recovered the decency for my breast as well.

“We should get back,” I suggested and he nodded in agreement as I moved off the counter. He unlocked the door to the small restroom, stepping to the side for me to exit before him and he proceeded behind me. A blush found my cheeks as he placed his hand on the small of my back, moving to settle on my hip as he was directing us back to the bar.

[complicatedchelsea]

Fallen Through Time For You

Chapter Ten: Ladies and Gentleman, Steve Harrington

Masterlist:

(gif not mine)

(Sydney's POV)

A ringed, waving hand brought me back from where my mind had been slipping to all night. After we got back to the trailer, Wayne was already up and cooking something in the kitchen. True to Eddie’s word, he plopped me down on the couch and settled on the floor in front of me, him leaning back on my legs as he started his homework. I wasn’t much help with his statistics, but with every question I helped him answer he would turn his body to give me a small kiss on my jean-covered knee. 

Dinner with the both of them was interesting to watch. The rapt attention Wayne had while Eddie reencountered an event that occurred at school, or how Wayne had to remind Eddie that he was so close to the finish line and regardless of what happened the next few months that he was going to graduate no matter what this year.

Eddie offered to finish the washing up as Wayne packed his meal for the night and got ready for work. I mostly stayed silent, just watching the family dynamic that they had. Eddie got too excited about Wayne’s next day off and got soapy water all over the floor? Wayne just shook his head in amusement and threw him a dish towel, warning Eddie not to flood the trailer while he was gone. Or Eddie tossing me Wayne’s keys from the kitchen table, claiming that since Wayne can’t find his truck keys, that he just had to call out of work and settle with spending the night with the two of us. 

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asked as he crouched down in front of me. “Where did you go?”

Wayne had left an hour ago, tugging me into one of his rough hugs with the promise that I better be asleep by the time he gets home or Eddie would be sleeping in the van because he just knew that it would be Eddie’s fault. I laughed at him and once he walked out the door, it was like I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Eddie moved one of his hands to land on my knee, rubbing reassuring circles into my kneecap. I cleared my throat. “You know, I have a pretty nasty scar there.”

I felt Eddie stop his rubbing for a moment before they started up again, this time more lingering. “How did you get it?”

“It was my brother’s birthday.” I started, wanting him to understand what I've been battling since I saw Wayne cooking for me in the kitchen. “I was only ten and my mother had decided that if I wanted any of his birthday cake, I had to help her clean the kitchen for dinner. I was put in charge of the dishes and I guess I wasn’t paying attention and got water all over the floor. She had asked me to grab the stack of bowls off the counter and to bring them to the table. I was rushing, wanting to get everything done in time so I could have a piece of cake. I didn’t realize the water on the floor until it was too late, and when I slipped the bowls had tumbled out of my hands and shattered all of the floor and I landed in all the glass.”

I looked up at Eddie then, meeting his beautiful dark eyes. “She had to take me to the hospital. The whole ride there was about me ‘ruining my brother's birthday’, or ‘getting blood all over the seats of her car’, and how ‘it was going to take me weeks of chores to pay her back for all the dishes I broke’.

Eddie moved his hands to grab at mine that was sitting in my lap. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

I shook my head. “You know I wasn’t allowed to eat with “real” silverware or plates for two months? Everything was paper plates or paper towels, and that was if I was actually eating. Seeing the way that you and Wayne interact, it scares me sometimes. Not in a bad way! It’s just-kind of hard to explain?”

Eddie squeezed my hands. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“Of course,” Eddie said as he stood up and dropped my hands. For a second I thought he was going to walk away, but he just plopped down on the couch next to me, pulling at my legs to lay them over his lap. His hands went back to rubbing at my knee. “When I first got here, Wayne used to be very loud. Slamming doors, tugging open the cabinets, and stomping around the house. After watching me flinch for almost a week he sat me down and pulled the answer out of me. Have you noticed how quietly he moves around the trailer? He started making a conscious effort to make less noise so I’d stop flinching.”

One of his hands moved up to rub at his neck. “That’s another reason why I’m so loud with my movements. I didn’t want to be scared every time I heard a door slam. So when I did it, it was like taking that fear back.”

It made sense. I didn’t think there was going to be a day that I slammed doors for the hell of it, but what Eddie argued made sense. “Thank you.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at me. “For what?”

I scooted closer to him on the couch. “For listening. For everything.”

Eddie laughed. “We haven’t even dipped below the surface, sweetheart.”

I smiled and Eddie leaned the top of his body closer to me, little distance between us. “All you gotta do is talk to me.”

Eddie leaned back and motioned for me to pull my legs back. He clapped his hands and stood up, bowing slightly and offering me a hand. “Care to retire to the bed chambers, m’lady?”

“Eddie,” I laughed and took his hand as he helped me stand up. “Are you ever going to stop talking like that?”

Eddie placed a hand to his chest, clutching at his invisible pearls. “You wound me so!”

I rolled my eyes and followed him towards his bedroom. He fell back into his bed with a huff, throwing his arm over his eyes and sagging into the blanket. I watched him in amusement, choosing to lean against the doorway. Eddie peaked at me under his arm, his other day being held out to me from the bed. “Join me?”

“As good as that sounds, I think you should let me borrow some more PJ’s or I’m going to fall asleep in my jeans.”

Eddie groaned before sitting up and forcing himself off the bed. “Good choice.”

He dug through his drawers and presented some clothes at me before tugging his shirt off. I let out a surprised noise before turning around and heading towards the bathroom. I could still hear Eddie laughing at me through the bathroom door. After I changed and made my way back to his room, he had turned all the lights off but a lamp on his desk. I could see that he changed into some flannel pants, but he chose to remain shirtless. He was leaning up against the headboard of his bed, covers tossed back for me and a large notebook in hand. 

I closed the door behind me and got into bed next to him, glad that I didn’t have to argue with him about sleeping on the floor. I sat a small distance from him and when Eddie looked up, he sent me a look and used an arm to drag me closer to him. Snuggling up to his side like I did on the porch that night, I relaxed into him and felt the drop of his head against mine. “What’s with the notebook?”

“Hellfire,” Eddie said as he flipped a page. “We were supposed to have a meeting on Friday but I’m thinking about pushing it back another week.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Eddie said with an amused tone. “This weekend I was supposed to finish editing what I had written, but this really pretty girl showed up and I kind of got distracted.”

“She’s that big of a distraction?”

Eddie nodded, tongue pressed into his cheek as he tried to not smile. “The biggest. She’s so pretty that every time I look at her, I kind of forget about everything else.”

My face had to be bright red at this point, but Eddie was still looking at me with that look in his eyes. The one he had when I walked out of the bathroom in his clothes, the look when he had me pressed against his van. I felt like I was burning from the inside out. 

Eddie let out a soft laugh, his smile breaking through as he shut the notebook. “The boys will be fine to wait another week.”

“What’s your campaign about anyway?”

Eddie froze from where he was trying to toss his notebook to the floor. “You want to hear about my campaign?”

“Of course,” I hooked my chin on his shoulder as I looked up at him. “Dazzle me.”

Eddie got this spark in his eyes when he was talking about D&D. His hands moved in rapid movements as he explained what had happened so far and the plans that he had for the remaining members of the party. He only stopped when I let out a yawn, giving me a sheepish smile as he shut the notebook. “You’re tired.”

I shook my head. “No! I want to hear more.”

Eddie chuckled and gently moved me back so he could stand up. “Why don’t you just sit in on the next session?”

He placed his notebook on the desk and reached over the turn off the lamp, the room being bathed in darkness. My eyes slowly adjusted as some of the street light peaked through his windows. “It won’t bother the others?”

Eddie slipped quietly in the bed, holding the covers open for me as I moved away from the headboard and laid down. Once I was settled, he let the blankets fall as he reached out to me, stroking my face as a hand moved to my waist to pull me closer to him. I went without argument, cuddling up to his bare chest and I couldn’t help but lightly trace at his scars. He trembled for a moment, and then he completely relaxed in my arms with his head leaning back against the pillow. 

“Outside of the party, the only ones you haven’t met are the Corroded Coffin boys. I might have told them about you today?”

I paused my tracing, tilting my neck to meet his eyes in the dim light. “You did?”

The hand that was resting against my back traced upward, Eddie messing with one of my braids. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” I said as I started moving my hand again. “I’ve just never had someone want to talk about me like that.”

Eddie smiled and I could feel shaking with silent laughter. “I think after today they are tired of me talking about you.”

“How so?”

Eddie moved to press his forehead against mine. “They said I sounded like a ‘love-sick puppy’.”

I laughed. “You poor baby.”

Eddie let out a noise in protest. “Henderson is the only one that had my back.”

“Where did you tell them that I came from?”

Eddie’s hand continued to run up and down my back. “I told them that you were Hopper’s niece. That I went over there to pick up Dustin and the rest was history.”

“They want to meet me?”

Eddie pulled back far enough that he could make eye contact with me. “Why wouldn’t they? Of course they do! Besides Little Sinclair, I don’t think they’ve met another girl that is interested in half of the stuff we talked about. They might even try to rope you into playing.”

“That sound’s nerve-wracking.” I snorted. 

Eddie pulled me back to his chest. “So if I push back the meeting, are you going to come to the next one?”

“Eddie,” I said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed; but wherever you have been going, I’ve pretty much been following you. Obviously I would like to go. I just don’t want your friends to not like me.”

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart.” Eddie said around a yawn. “I can promise that you’ll be just fine.”

Silence settled over us. I felt Eddie’s breathing slow down and I figured he had finally fallen asleep. I moved my hand that was resting over his scars to push the hair away from his face, choosing to run my fingers through his hair. 

“Sydney,” Eddie whispered to me, and I would have jumped backwards if he hadn’t lightly squeezed me in return. “Did I scare you earlier? Trying to kiss you beside the van?”

So he was trying to kiss me. 

My heart clenched at the thought. I didn’t want Eddie to think I was scared of him. “No, you didn’t scare me.”

A pause. “Are you scared to kiss me?” 

“Yes,” I was honest with him. Why wouldn’t I be? “No one’s ever kissed me before.”

“Well,” I felt Eddie shift and felt his lips press against my forehead. “I guess I need to make it worth your wild. Not against some old van.”

“Hey,” I warned him. “None of that. You know I don’t care. I just got nervous and a little overwhelmed today.”

I could feel his lips stretch into a lazy grin. “Too late, I’m going to rise to the challenge.”

I huffed at him and just closed my eyes. “Are you going to do this with everything?”

“Just the important things,” Eddie teased back as he relaxed back into me. 

I don’t really know when I fell asleep, I just know that I felt Eddie tighten his grip on me before I completely dropped off. Like it would allow me to follow him into any of his dreams. 

I wasn’t alone when I woke up this morning. I could feel Eddie running his fingers up my back, one hand tracing shapes into my waist. It was still dark outside, the trailer park completely quiet with no signs of life. I let out a groan and tried to shuffle closer to the warmth that Eddie gave off in the cold morning air. 

“Sleep well?” I could hear the teasing in Eddie’s voice. 

“Five more minutes,” I muttered into his chest. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie says and I feel him try to push me off his chest. “If you ask me that again, I must just give in and then we’d be late.”

“It’s overrated anyway,” I said as I pulled up to look at his sleepy expression. “Good morning.”

“It’s good now,” Eddie said cheekily as he leaned down to kiss my forehead. 

I lazily swatted at him and rolled away so I was laying on my back. “What time is it?”

“Wayne’s not home yet,” Eddie answered instead as he sat up, looking down at me.

“And you woke me up?” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. 

“Oh baby,” Eddie said with a sleepy laugh. “I just wanted to spend some time with you before we have to separate.”

I lowered my hands and frowned. “I can’t be annoyed with you when you’re being sweet.”

“I’m always sweet.” Eddie said as he shifted to slightly lean over me. One hand came to cup my cheek. “I taste sweet too.”

“Eddie!” I let out a surprised laugh and tried to bring my hands up to cover my blushing face.

Eddie let out a deeper laugh and moved to get off the bed, letting me try to get over his boldness. After I felt calmed, I sat up and watched Eddie flitter around the room. He pulled a gray shirt from his drawers and tugged it on before moving on to his closet. “Do you want to borrow another shirt today?”

“How about another flannel?” I asked as I stretched when I stood up. 

Eddie tossed a black and white one in my direction before going back to dig in his closet. “Do you wanna call Steve?”

“Why do I need to call Steve?”

Finding what he was looking for, Eddie turned back to me. “To tell him about spending the day with him?”

I stared at Eddie for a moment, my mind trying to play catch up. “I thought you told him yesterday?”

“Well,” Eddie fidgeted with a pants hanger. “I was supposed to call him last night but forgot?”

“Eddie Munson,” I sighed and shook my head. “Do you think he’s going to be up this early?”

“He takes Robin to school, Dustin too.” Eddie supplied. “Numbers on a pad by the phone.”

I rolled my eyes with a smile and started out of the room. I found the number pretty easily, and it only took two rings before the phone rang. “Harrington residence?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Sydney?” I heard Steve question around a yawn. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes!” I rushed to reassure him, now realizing how the phone call might sound at whatever the time was. “Eddie mentioned to me yesterday that you have the day off and wanted to spend it with me?”

Steve chuckled. “I thought you might want to spend the day with someone. Eddie was supposed to call me back last night with the answer but I can see that he got distracted.”

“This happen a lot?”

“Define a lot?”

I laughed. “But yeah, I’d like to spend the day with you if that’s okay. I don’t think I’m comfortable enough to stay by myself all day.”

“No worries, I’m the one that brought it up. I have to drop Robin off at school, want to catch me there?”

“Sure,” I shrugged my shoulders and realized that he couldn’t see me. 

“Max mentioned that you met Murray yesterday?”

“That’s a long story,” I said and I heard a truck pull up in front of the trailer, their lights flashing through the windows. “Tell you later?”

“Of course,” Steve said as I heard a car door slam and the sound of someone coming up the steps and then the door rattled. The door opened quietly as Wayne tried to sneak in before he noticed me on the phone. 

“See you soon, Steve.”

Steve muttered a goodbye before I hung the phone back up. Wayne sent me a tired smile and shut the door. “I thought I told you to be asleep by the time I got home?”

Before I could reply, Eddie came bounding down the hallway with energy that I couldn’t fathom having this early. “Wayne!”

Wayne raised his eyebrows at me before putting the pieces together. “You’re up early.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders before moving around me in the kitchen, dragging a metal lunchbox to the island and popping open the top. “Just couldn’t bear being away from your pretty face.”

Wayne snorted and swatted at Eddie as he made his way into the kitchen. I left them be as I went to grab my clothes and get ready for the day. By the time I came back, there was another piece of toast waiting for me on the table and Eddie was still messing around in that lunchbox of his. Wayne was sitting in his recliner, mug in hand as the news droned on about the weather. 

“What did Steve say?” Eddie asked as he slid into the seat across from me, sliding me a mug of coffee. 

“That you were supposed to call him last night,” I said. “He said you have a habit of being distracted.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but made no move to argue with me as he just stuffed a handful of cereal in his mouth. I left him at the table as I finished up and Eddie found me as I was taking my braids out, my hair falling in waves down my back. He whistled at me from the bedroom door, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“I might have to let you braid mine,” Eddie said as he pushed off the door and crowded into my space. He touched a loose strand before tucking it behind my ear. 

“You’d let me braid your hair?” I asked him, surprised. 

“Only if you’d put one of those metal viking braids in my hair! Could you imagine how I’d look onstage?”

“Onstage?

“Yeah? The boys and I performed at the Hideout?” At the look of confusion on my face, Eddie took a step back. “I swear I said something about it.”

I took a step forward to be back in his space. “I think I’d remember you mentioning about one of your performances. You mentioned the band, I just connected some dots.”

Eddie pulled some of his hair in front of his face, his expression turning bashful. “After everything, you know the manhunt and the recovery; it was a bit difficult to get back into it. I think I’ve almost fully convinced the owner that I’m not some spawn of Satan and we might be able to perform again.”

“Do people still really think that?”

Eddie didn’t answer me as he suddenly turned and grabbed his bag on the desk. He held a hand out to me, letting out a deep breath when I intertwined our hands and let him guide me out of the room. Wayne was by the door when we tried to leave this time, Max waving her arms on the other side of the door. Eddie didn’t speak again until we were in the van, Max’s headphones over her ears. 

“You saw Carver,” Eddie started. “Even with the cover story that was fed to the town, my reputation didn’t exactly help clear up those rumors.”

Eddie’s attention was on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rested between my hands. I was fiddling with the rings on his hand and every so often he would turn his hand over to give mine a gentle squeeze before opening his hand back up for me. 

“Carver is an asshole,” I argued back, “Shouldn’t some of the adults in this town have common sense?”

“Welcome to Hawkins, hell on earth.” Eddie quoted to me, mirroring what was one of the first things he said to me. 

Not knowing what to say, I just squeezed his hand and looked out the window. The highschool was not what I was expecting, smaller than what I thought it would be with people all over the parking lot. Eddie parked towards the back of the lot, shutting the van off and watching the other students filter around the grounds. I turned to look back at Max when I noticed that she had moved forward, pressing against the back of my seat. 

“It’s strange that they all just accepted the story from Owens and went back to their normal lives,” Max said as she stared at the windshield. “What are they going to do when Vecna comes back?”

“If he comes back,” Eddie shot back in a tone that said they’ve had this conversation before.

Max snorted, not amused. “You really think he’s going to give up? We know better than anyone.”

“Exactly,” Eddie pointed out as he caught sight of something and threw his seatbelt off. “We know better than to hope that he won’t come back. We just have to be ready for when he does.”

Max didn’t say anything else as she opened the door behind me and jumped out. I turned to watch her walk over to Lucas, who seemed to just arrive at the school. I heard Eddie’s door shut before he was opening mine, helping me out the van. Something nagged at me as Eddie shut the door behind me, leaning up against the door.

“Would you rather not know what you know now?” I asked him as I waved an arm out to the sea of people around us. “Be oblivious to what happened?”

Eddie shook his head as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and went to light one. He took his time answering, taking a big puff before tilting his head back to releasing the smoke slowly. “The scars are painful and the nightmares are horrifying but,” Eddie stopped as he looked back to his right to see more of the party had joined Lucas and Max. Steve’s car was parked next to the group, Dustin excitedly getting out of the backseat to say something to Max. “What they went through? What I went through? If I wouldn’t have gone through it, I wouldn’t have found them. Hell, maybe I wouldn’t have found you. I’m going to be bonded to those little shits for the rest of my life, and most days it makes everything okay.”

“Nightmares?” I asked, seeming to grasp onto that out of his whole speech. “You’ve been having nightmares?”

Eddie chuckled and dropped his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it before wrapping an arm around my shoulders and started leading me towards the group. I could see that Robin had dragged Steve out of the car, him lugging an instrument out of the trunk. “I haven’t had one since you showed up.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“The best,” Eddie said with a smile. “I haven’t had a decent night's sleep in a long time.”

He didn’t say anything else as we joined the group. Dustin was quick to pull me into a hug, claiming that I couldn’t go without seeing him for that long again. Robin rolled her eyes with a laugh and said something to Eddie as Steve settled beside me. He was dressed casually, but for the first time I noticed the glasses on his face. 

“Glasses and gray hair?” I teased him. “Maybe you are turning into an old man.”

Steve sent me a bitchy look before shaking his head. “Is this what I’m going to have to put up with all day?”

“Oh Steve,” Eddie sang as he pressed himself up against my back, his head resting on my shoulder with his hair tickling my cheek. “I promise that I’m worse.”

“Oh I know you are,” Steve sighed. “But she’s your soulmate. I’m going to have my hands full with the two of you.”

Before I could argue, the sound of a bell resonated throughout the air. Dustin let out a groan and tugged at Lucas. They waved goodbye as they started towards the school, leaving the four of us alone. Eddie unwrapped himself from me, moving the stand in front of me. “Can I call you again at lunch?”

I smiled. “I think you might have separation anxiety, baby,”

Eddie flushed and did the thing where he pulled his hair in his face, like he was trying to hide his smile. I’ve noticed him doing it the past few days, and it made my heart flutter as I reached up to tuck in back behind his ear. 

Robin fake gagged beside us and shoved her instrument at Eddie to carry. “C’mon, I don’t want to be late!”

Eddie rolled his eyes and took a step back from me. “You know, if you actually carried your own instrument to class you wouldn’t have to worry about being late.”

Robin just sniggered and with a wave at Steve and I, she started towards the school. Eddie let out an amused sigh and sent me a wink as he started after her. “Till we meet again, sweetheart!”

Steve watched with me as the two of them got through the doors, leaving us in an almost quiet parking lot. We stood there for an awkward moment, really not knowing what to say. 

Finally Steve broke the silence. He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m so used to Robin filling up the silence that I forget I have to speak sometimes.”

I chuckled. “I can be comfortable with the silence. I’m used to not really talking at all.”

“Seems like shitty parents might be a theme around here,” Steve said as he motioned a hand out to the car. “You ready to head out?”

I nodded and took Robin’s seat as Steve started the car. He didn’t say anything else as he drove out of school bounds and in a different direction than Eddie had driven from. It was another few moments of quiet before Steve couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I have some errands I need to run today. Would you rather do that or we go back to my house and not know what to say to each other?”

“I’m down for anything,” I said. I was happy to follow Steve anywhere in Hawkins today, I had no problems with being taken along for the ride. 

That’s how we ended up in a small grocery store, Steve pushing me a cart when we entered the store while he read off from a list that seemed to have five different hand writing’s on it. I tried to help him make out what seemed to be Dustin’s writing, but mainly just stuck with pushing the cart and taking it all in. 

“You know if you want anything, just put it in the cart.” Steve said as he put a box of cereal in the cart that looked exactly like what Eddie was eating out of this morning. “We spend a lot of time at my house, I’d hate to not have anything for you to enjoy.”

I couldn’t even open my mouth to argue before Steve was holding his hand up. “For peace of mind, please grab something? Eddie would kill me if I let you starve, and I promise this guilt that you might feel is not needed. I want to buy you something to eat, so amuse me?”

“What is it with everyone making sure I have something to eat?” I said as I shook my head. 

“I take it Wayne said something to you?” Steve asked with a grin as he put a box of poptarts in the cart. 

“More like who hasn’t,” I complained as I looked over some of the cereal brands. “It feels like they are trying to smother me.”

I felt my face get red as I turned to face Steve and correct my mistake. “That sounded harsher than I meant it to be! I just me-”

Steve held up a hand. “I know what you mean. It’s hard to accept stuff from someone because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

I started at Steve for a moment, the comment that Robin made at the Byers house circling my thoughts. “I know that no one here is expecting anything from me, but it’s just…”

“Hard,” Steve finished for me as he moved to stand in front of me. “Before Mrs. Henderson, it was really hard for me to accept things from an adult. But now? She won’t let me leave the family dinner’s without two days of leftovers. For a while I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to come out and ask me for something big. But she didn’t, she never has. She just wanted to make sure I was eating with my parents being gone.”

Steve let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He looked around the empty isles of the grocery store before leaning closer to me. “Look, if anyone in the group is going to get it, it’s going to be me. I know it’s going to take a while to get used to, but I like taking care of everyone. So why don’t we just start small? Pick out three things to put in the cart and we can go from there.”

“I can do that,” I said. “It really gets easier?”

Steve laughed as he moved to push the cart, me falling into step beside him. “The only one that I still argue with is Wayne. The man took one look at me when I was helping Eddie and deemed me a part of his family. I know that he knows that when I go over there to see Eddie, that I’m not expecting anything. But I’m not used to adults giving so freely without there being a catch.”

Steve left me to think about that as he tried to find the chips that Max would eat. I just stared at the shelves in front of me, trying to decide what I could eat this week when someone grabbed my arm. I flinched and immediately tried to pull my arm away, but when I looked up there was an older woman standing there, no older than Joyce. She refused to let go of my arm, her hand wrinkling Eddie’s flannel as she studied me. 

“You’re Hopper’s niece?” She finally questioned as she stared me down. “The one that came down from the city?”

My mouth opened, but no words came out. What the hell was this lady’s problem? 

“I-uh,” tried to say as I tried freeing my arm from her grasp again. 

A hand landed on my shoulder and before I could flinch from that one, Steve made a point to stand in front of me, causing the woman to drop her hold on me. I clutched my arm to my chest, letting Steve block me from view. 

“Mrs. Perkins,” I could hear the fakeness in his tone. “How are you doing?”

“Steven,” The lady-Mrs. Perkins grumbled as she tried to see around him. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”

“Who? Sydney?” Steve asked as he looked back at me, and with a nod from me he moved to stand at my side, his arm going across my shoulders in a protective measure. 

“Anne Carver mentioned that Jason and you got introduced over the weekend.” She said, obviously fishing for information. “I didn’t know Hopper had any other relatives.”

“Uncle Hop’s private about his family,” I said with a fake smile, taking comfort in knowing that Steve had my back here. “You know how small towns are.”

“Oh, yes.” She said with a fake grin. “How do you know Steven?”

Her eyes cut to the arm that Steve had loosely hanging by his side and to mine from where I was still clutching an arm to my chest. 

“Hopper wanted me to show her around town,” Steve said sweetly, but I could tell he was getting annoyed. “Just stopped in to get some groceries before heading back out.”

“No one has caught the reason that you moved down here.” Mrs.Perkins dug her heels further in. “No one just moves to Hawkins.”

“Didn’t you?” I asked as I looked up at Steve and he shrugged his shoulders for show. “Or have you lived here your whole life?”

She let out a noise of protest and I felt Steve trying to not laugh beside me. She waved a hand in the air. “I just thought I’d do my civic duty and introduce myself to our newest resident. There are a few people that you might want to stay away from, dear. This town hasn’t been the nicest in the last few years.”

I tilted my head. “Uncle Hop made sure to tell me all about what’s been going on the last few years. I think I’m just fine where I’m at.”

She let out a humph and took a step back from us. “Well just be careful. Anne Carver heard that you were hanging around a particular boy at the arcade and I just wanted to warn you that he was trouble.”

“Eddie Munson?” Steve questioned as his arm moved from my shoulder to cross across his chest. “You mean the Eddie Munson that I had to pull out of the rubble of the earthquake because he was locked in the Creel House?” 

Mrs. Perkins tsked and raised her purse further up her arm. “If that’s what you claim happened. We all know the truth.”

“Oh, you do?” I questioned, angry now. I gestured at her, raged that she could just talk about Eddie like that in public. “You don’t know fu-”

She reached out again and grasped my left arm, pushing up my flannel sleeve to my elbow. I tried to pull my arm out of her grip again, but she held on tight with her fingernails digging into my arm. 

“Ah!” She said as she found what she was looking for, looking down at my soulmark. “So what Jason said was true.”

I was furious and felt humiliated. This bitch really riled me up to prove what Jason was trying to spread around this time. She wanted to see Eddie’s name on my wrist, she wanted to have something to spread around town.

“That’s enough!” Steve said as he pushed her back, her dropping my arm in shock as Steve moved to completely stand between us. “If you don’t leave now, I’m going to call Hopper. I can promise you, he is not going to be happy when I tell him that you were harassing and assaulting his niece.”

“Assault?” Mrs.Perkins said as she clutched at her chest. “I did no such thing!”

“The red marks on her arm say otherwise,” Steve spat out. “Now leave or I’ll drag your ass to the front of the store and make sure that you can’t leave before Hopper gets here.”

“Oh, Steven.” Mrs.Perkins said as she sighed and started walking in the opposite direction. “What would your mother think?”

Steve tensed up in front of me and before he could retaliate, she turned the corner and left line of sight. He didn’t move from in front of me, his stance still rigid as he was breathing deeply. 

“Steve?” I questioned softly as I put a hand on his arm and moved to stand in front of him. “Hey, Steve?”

It took Steve a second to tear his eyes away from the corner and down at me. His eyes searched my face before he let out a deep breath and relaxed his stance. “We need to call Hopper.”

“Steve-” I started as he reached for me. I didn’t flinch this time, let him pull my arm to him so he could see the red marks that she left behind. 

“Fuck!” Steve exclaimed. “Sydney, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that she was going to do that.” 

“Hey, hey.” I said to him, “It’s okay, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

Steve shook his head and dropped my arm. “Gossiping bitch. I shouldn’t have let her say anything to you, I should have made us walk away. Now she’s gonna run her damn mouth about you and Eddie.”

“Steve, should I be ashamed of Eddie?” I asked. 

“What?” Steve asked, appalled. “Of course not!”

“Then don’t worry about it.” I said as I pushed my sleeve back down. “Let her fucking talk. We knew people were going to say something about me showing up; and with how touchy Eddie is, do you really think people weren’t going to notice?”

“Still!” Steve exclaimed. “She didn’t have any right to touch you! I should go after her a-”

“Steve!” I grabbed his arm. “Let’s just finish shopping and get back to your house to call Hopper. That’s what we can do right now, I really don’t want to be in public anymore.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve nodded as he grabbed the cart. “You promise that you're okay?”

“I’m not,” I admitted. “But I will be, I just hate that I’m going to tell Eddie this. He’s going to be so pissed.”

We called Hopper first when we got to Steve’s house. He dialed the number to the station for me before he went to bring the rest of the groceries in. Hopper was furious, wanting to know what happened from my perspective, and then Steve’s. 

“You should have called me at the store!” Hopper said loudly. “I could have nipped this shit in the bud before it got spread around town!”

“You coming would have caused a bigger scene!” I said as Steve crowded me to hear the other side of the conversation. “Steve had it covered, Hopper. How long do you really think you could keep me off the radar before people started talking?”

“Look,” Hopper started. “Munson’s a good kid, I like him a lot now that I’ve got to know him. I trust him, but the people around here have mixed opinions because of what happened back in March. You know some of what they say about Eddie. Are you ready for that to be said about you?”

“Hopper, people were going to find out eventually.” I sighed. “Eddie’s worth whatever they want to say to me.”

I passed the phone back to Steve and let him take care of the rest. My arm was sore and I knew that the conversation with Eddie wasn’t going to be nice. The conversation from that first night on the porch kept coming to mind. How I was choosing to stay with him. Would he feel like it’s worth it?

Steve found me a little later, sitting on the steps of the staircase as I traced at my soulmark. He had his keys in hand and was shrugging on a jacket. 

“I need to mail a few bills and I’ll grab something for lunch while I’m out. You okay to wait here?” Steve checked at his watch. “They should be going to lunch soon, it will give you a chance to talk to Eddie without any prying ears.”

I shrugged my shoulders. 

“Hey,” Steve said as he sat down beside me on the stairs. “You know that none of this is your fault, right?”

“I let her rile me up,” I said. “She got exactly what she wanted. If I would just kept qu-”

“No,” Steve interrupted me. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I should have walked the both of us away.”

Steve moved a hand to push my sleeve up further up my arm, taking in the purpling marks on my arm. “She got you pretty good.”

I huffed and pushed my sleeve back down. “I’m just worried about Eddie.”

“Worried how?” Steve asked. “He’s not going to be upset with you.”

“I know that,” I said and I meant it. I knew without a doubt that Eddie would never get upset with me about this. “He’s going to be upset that he wasn’t there or that this is something that I’m going to have to ‘put up with’ being with him. He’s been spending so much time making sure I’m comfortable here that I don’t want anything to push him over the edge.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve said as he rubbed a hand down my back. “I’ll make sure of it.”

I nodded and didn’t say anything else. 

“Any requests for lunch?” Steve asked me as he stood back up. “Pickles, right?”

“Oh fuck off,” I let out a suprised laugh. “If you come back with pickles, I’ll let Robin put hair dye in your conditioner.”

Steve gasped and let it fall into a smile. “I told you I was going to have my hands full with you guys.”

I rolled my eyes as he left the house. It felt weird exploring someone else’s house, so I just made my way to stand back at the phone in the kitchen and wait for Eddie’s phone call. I knew why Steve wanted me to talk to Eddie about this alone, but it would be easier if I had someone here with me. 

“Sweetheart,” was the first thing that Eddie said when I picked up the phone-greeting be damned and not letting me speak. When I didn’t say anything, Eddie let out a groan and it sounded like he smacked the phone against something. “Harrington, I promise I’m not trying to seduce you.”

I laughed. “Why would Steve think that?”

“Sydney!” Eddie exclaimed with a laugh. “You little shit, had me thinking I was professing my love to the wrong person.”

“Was that your intention with this phone call?” I asked as I twirled the cord around my fingers. “Professing your undying love for me?”

“Alas, I love another.” Eddie said dramatically. “I’m sorry-but Stevie’s the one for me. It’s the polo’s, they just draw me in!”

“Eddie!” I laughed. “You’re lucky that Steve isn’t here to witness this.”

“Steve isn’t there?” Eddie stopped laughing, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Steve left you alone in his house?”

“He left to grab lunch,” I offered up and was beating around the bush. “I didn’t want to be out in public anymore.”

“Sydney,” Eddie warned. “If something happened this morning, you need to tell me.”

“You have to promise me you won’t leave school.” I said. “Whatever that happened is over with and I have Steve here with me and we’ve already called Hopper. It’s going to be okay.”

“If you don’t tell me what happened, I will leave this school.” Eddie threatened. “I’m not kidding, sweetheart. Spill.”

I let out a troubled sigh. “You won’t get mad at me?”

“Of course not,” Eddie said softly. “I promise I’m never going to raise my voice at you.”

I bit my lip. “So I might have gotten harassed at the grocery store this morning with Steve?”

Eddie’s voice went up a few octaves, but the volume of his voice didn’t increase. “I’m sorry, what? You might have gotten harassed?”

“Eddie…”

I heard him let out a deep sigh, his voice now back to normal. “Baby, I’m sorry. You were saying?”

I looked down at my wrist, Eddie’s name in silver ink gleaming against my skin. I couldn’t lie to him. “So I guess word got out about my little confrontation with Jason at the arcade. One of Hawkins' most respected women took it upon herself to see if it was true.”

“Which is?”

“That I’m Hopper’s niece.”

“Sydney,” Eddie warned. “You do not want me coming to find you.”

“That we’re soulmates.” I rushed out. “I guess that Jason went around telling everyone that you found your soulmate and they wanted to see if it was true. And-she-tried-to-warn-me-to-stay-away-from-you-and-she-grabbed-me-really-hard–”

“She touched you?” Eddie said angrily, his voice the deepest I’ve heard. “She left marks? Where the hell was Steve?”

I looked down at my arm, there was no downplaying it, Eddie would see the dark marks when he picked me up. “Steve separated us. He tried to defend you, but I think she just wanted to rile the both of us. The moment I lifted a hand at her she grabbed me.”

Eddie was silent on the other side of the line. I waited for him to speak, to make a noise, to do anything. 

“Baby?”

“So all this happened and you don’t want me to be there with you” Eddie said angrily. “You worried she’s right?”

I let out an angry noise. “Edward Munson, don’t turn this into something it’s not.”

Eddie let out an angry laugh. “And what would that be? My soulmate was harassed in public without me and she doesn’t want me to comfort her?”

“Don’t,” I said. “Eddie, you know that’s not what this is.”

“You really think I should prioritize school over you? I should just leave you with Steve?”

“Yes,” I snapped back. “Eddie, I know that finishing school is important to you and I’m not going to let you give them another reason for you to not graduate this year. I haven’t even been here a whole week, you can’t uproot everything for me.”

The line was silent. Eddie cleared his throat. 

“Did it leave a bruise? And it’s the arm with the mark?”

“Maybe…?”

“So this is what we are going to do,” Eddie said. “I’m going to finish the day out because whether I like it or not, you are right. Not about school being more important because I would never walk back into Hawkins High again if it meant keeping you away from all this; but because one wrong move and I know that I’m done. When school lets out, I’m coming to pick you up and we are having a long discussion on the place you have in my life. You seem to think that you just blend into the background sweetheart, and I can promise you that even in a pitch black room I’d be able to pick you out. You are going to tell what happened word for word, and then I’m going to call Hopper.”

“Eddie-”

“This isn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckled. “I think I’ve gone about this all wrong and I plan on fixing that today.”

I didn’t say anything. Eddie didn’t seem mad at me, but it was still my fault wasn’t it? No matter how hard I’ve tried not to, I’ve been making waves since I got here. Maybe I shouldn’t have intervened at the arcade, but how could I not?

“I just have one question for you and then I’ve got to head to class,” Eddie broke me out of my thoughts. 

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. 

“You told me on that porch you wanted to stay. Do you regret it?”

My eyebrows furrowed, even though I knew at some point this question would come back up. “Of course not. I don’t think I could live without you now, Eddie.”

Eddie sighed and there were muffled voices coming from the line, like someone was trying to get his attention. 

“I’ve gotta go baby. I’ll see you in a few hours?”

“I’ll be here,” I said. “Eddie, I-”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupted. “See you soon.”

The rest of the afternoon passed too quickly and not quick at all. Steve returned with lunch and we spent the rest of the afternoon realizing we were much similar than we thought we’d be. It ended up with us in the backyard, lounging on some pool chairs as the breeze swayed the trees. Steve was reading from some magazine that Robin had left over, mocking the dating advice and hair tips before he got quiet. 

“Steve?” I asked him. “Did your bitchiness run out?”

“Har har,” He said as he sat up in my direction. The expression on his face screamed curiosity. 

I sat up as well, tucking my feet underneath me to face him. “You want to ask me something.”

He nodded. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to answer it.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think we are past that point now.”

Steve hesitated. “The mark. I know that you said you didn’t have them where you came from, but I just wanted to know if you noticed anything about the mark since it’s shown up.”

I frowned. “What do you mean by notice?”

Steve’s face turned a bit red. “I don’t want to sound stupid.”

“Steve,” I said as I moved on the chair to be closer to him, grabbing his hand. “I’m not going to think it’s stupid.”

Steve wouldn’t look at me. “Eddie is the only one in the group that has their soulmark. I know that they can show up anytime after you turn twenty, but Eddie has always had his since I’ve known him. Hell, you don’t know how many times Dustin used to make me look up your name at Family Video to see if your name was in our system.”

My chest felt a little heavy with an emotion I couldn’t place. “I didn’t know that.”

Steve nodded and tapped on the back of my hand. “Dude’s obsessed with you. He used to talk about how some days, it was like your emotions were so strong he could feel you. Like you were next to him.”

“That can happen?”

Steve laughed and looked up at me. “That answers one of my questions. You haven’t been able to feel him?”

“I-I don’t know,” I said, curious. Have I been? The times speaking to Eddie that the emotions seem to burst in my chest? Has that been him in the background this whole time?

“Eddie’s been twenty for a few months, about to turn twenty-one.” Steve mentioned. “How long have you been twenty for?”

“Since March,” I said. Hell, I didn’t even know his birthday. Did I ever tell him mine? “Everything is a little fuzzy, I’m still not sure the exact date it was when I left.”

“So you didn’t just turn twenty?” Steve asked. “So that means you didn’t get your mark on your birthday.”

“Steve?” I asked. “What’s this about?”

Steve groaned and fell backwards in his chair. “Can you keep a secret?”

“You’re keeping secrets from Robin?” I gasped in an attempt to make him laugh.

Steve didn’t reply, just laid there with his hands over his eyes. “When I finally got my shit together and turned into a decent human being, I was so grateful for finding Robin and having a relationship with the kids. Sure Nancy, Jonathan, and I are still trying to find our footing; but I don’t know where I would be without the kids. And then I really got to know Eddie during spring break and it was like I had added another person to this mix-match family.”

Steve sighed and sat back up. “And then you came along and it was like I had this feeling that you had to be a part of it too? One look at you on that couch just made me feel so protective, like I had another person to protect but it was a different bond than what I had with Robin and the kids. Like we had grown up together but with a wall between us, siblings that only saw of each other through cracks in the foundation. And I just want to know when it’s my turn. When it’s my turn to find the person I’m supposed to love with no bounds, the one that’s going to come into my life and make everything easier.”

“Steve,” I sighed sadly and moved to sit beside him on the chair. “Is it too much for me to be here?”

“No!” Steve rushed out and grabbed at me. “Just coming down the aisle this morning and seeing Mrs.Perkins all over you, I just felt this instinct that I had to protect you. Like when you stepped in front of El. And it just had me thinking, would this be my life? Shouldn’t I feel grateful for all the love that the party gives me? But no, I’m being selfish in wanting more and wanting it now.”

I debated for a second before wrapping my arms around him and hugging myself to his side. “Steve, it’s not selfish for you to want this. Sure, I didn’t know of Eddie or know that I had the possibility of meeting him. But I did have a feeling that he was out there. That if I could get through the hardest part of my old life, that one day I would meet him and it would be worth it.”

“But haven’t I paid my dues?” Steve’s broken voice asked. “I’ve been beaten, drugged, tortured, bitten into, and dragged through the Upside Down. I’ve had so many concussions that I now have to wear glasses and my right ear rings loudly when it gets too loud. Haven’t I paid enough?”

“Oh, Steve” I sighed as I moved out of his space to look at him. His eyes were red and watery, like he was about to cry. “There is someone out there for you, and I promise when you get your mark I’ll help you search everywhere for them. Think about it, would you really want to bring someone into all of this now? You said it, Vecna’s not dead. Would you really want this person to come in now? Or after you’ve had the chance to heal?”

“It’s just not fair,” Steve said as he moved to rest his head on my shoulder. “I know that I have you all to comfort me, but it’s just not the same. Just watching you and Eddie, the way that you two seem to just gravitate towards each other. It’s so easy.”

I snorted and tried to fix the damage I might have inflicted when Steve raised his head to look me. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny at all. You really think that it’s so easy?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Steve.” I said, deadpanned. “Take a second to really think about this. I had a shitty home life, did you not see how uncomfortable I was spending Eddie’s money to get clothes? Or how he has to order for me or we have to share a plate because I can’t help but feel that I’m taking up too much space? Since I’ve got here, Eddie has been bending over backwards to make sure that I am comfortable and I can’t give him anything in return! I can’t even k-”

I slammed my mouth shut, not wanting to mention what occurred yesterday until I had figured it out for myself. Steve regarded me curiously, wiping at his eyes before leaning back. “You can't do what?”

I crossed my arms. “I don’t want to talk about it, we were talking about you.”

“You’re not getting out of this one,” Steve said with a laugh. “What is Eddie wanting you to do that you can’t?”

“He’s not making me do anything,” I groaned and rubbed my eyes. “Can you just drop it?”

“No.” The little shit smiled at me. “His hands are already all over you, what more does he want?”

Steve stared at me for a moment before his eyes got wide. “Oh shit.”

I felt my face go red. “Whatever you are thinking, don’t.”

“Really? Because I’m over here thinking that you haven’t kissed Eddie. That man is all over you, all the time. I’d think if you were kissing at this point, he’d have no shame in doing it in front of us.”

I groaned. “Can’t we go back to you being sad?”

Steve laughed and moved into my space to knock my shoulder. “C’mon. You were doing such a good job cheering me up.”

I looked up at him. “Are you cheered up?”

Steve shrugged. “The longing is still there. I know they're out there, but maybe you are right. Maybe if I’m patient and all this Vecna stuff is over with, I’ll be able to be happy without looking over my shoulder all the goddamn time.”

“Do you feel them?”

A few emotions passed through Steve’s expression. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like there is something there, like a faint buzzing in the background? But then I come back into focus and it’s gone.”

I shrugged. “I think you need to be talking to Eddie about all this.”

“You do, huh?” Steve teased. “Maybe I’ll teach him my way so he can properly romance you.”

“Fuck off,” I laughed and knocked my shoulder against his. “I swear to God, Harrington. If try to give Eddie advice on how to kiss me, I’m going to fucking murder you. He’s doing just fine on his own.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “He is?”

I let out another laugh and pushed him further into the chair. “Shut up!”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie’s voice came from the backdoor. He was leaning against the glass, a small smile on his face. “Cat fight going on out here?”

Steve groaned. “Fuck off, Munson.”

“Sorry, I’m taken.” Eddie bit back as he pushed off the glass and made his way to the chair that I was occupying. “What are you two even fighting about?”

“Nothing!” My voice was higher than normal, face flushing again. “Steve here was just being a little shit.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open. “You started it!”

Before I could get back at him, Eddie had grabbed my hands and pulled up off the chair to be pressed against him. No space between us as his hands slid from mine to wrap around my waist. He leaned down to nuzzle into my hair, a deep sigh releasing from his chest. I closed my eyes in content, a warm feeling passing over me and washing away all the anxiety from this morning. 

“Get a room.” Steve complained from the chair. 

Eddie chuckled and leaned back but not breaking from his hold around me. “You ready to go home, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, man-” Steve started as he stood up from the lounge chair. 

Eddie held out his hand. “Sydney, why don’t you grab your shoes and I’ll meet you at the van. I gotta talk to Stevie for a moment.”

I didn’t bother to argue, giving Steve a light hug before making my back into the house. Eddie only took a few minutes before he found me at the van, helping me into the passenger side with little to say. I watched as Steve waved at us from the door, Eddie pulling out in true fashion and starting to head in the opposite direction. 

“Where are we going?” I asked him as he drove down some unfamiliar roads. 

“We are going somewhere alone to talk,” Eddie said as he took a sharp turn. He made eye contact with me, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Somewhere with no interruptions or where you might feel overwhelmed. Quiet.”

Eddie didn’t speak again until we reached our destination. He pulled into a deserted parking lot, forestation starting to take it back over. He shut the van off after a moment, jerking his head towards the back of the van before getting out. I watched him, confused as he disappeared from sight, but jumping when the back doors of the van opened. 

“You going to join me back here?”

I took a deep breath and got out of the van to follow him around the back. Both doors were open, Eddie smoothing down a thick blanket on the floor of the van. There were a few pillows thrown into the back, another blanket folded in the corner. 

Eddie patted the spot next to him, so I kicked off my shoes and made myself comfortable and pulled the extra blanket across my lap. He followed my lead and finished kicking off his shoes, an arm wrapping itself around my shoulders and pulling me to lean against him. 

“Start from the beginning,” Eddie said softly. “I promise I’m not going to raise my voice.”

I took a deep breath and told him what happened this morning. The lady riling us up, Steve sticking up for Eddie, sticking up for me. Calling Hopper and arguing about not arresting the lady. I repeated the sentiment that I told Hopper; that no matter what they said about me, it would be worth it to stay with him. That it was my fault that I let her rile me up and how no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop the issues that my appearance was causing. That even though I didn’t express it over the phone, the longing I had of wanting him there with me today. That all I wanted was for him to pull me close enough to him that I didn’t know where I ended and he began. That no matter how much that lady upset me, I was worried about him. It wasn’t fair that people were still giving him shit for what happened during spring break and I felt like all I could offer him was some protection against those harsh words. 

Eddie was quiet throughout all of this, letting me get it all out. Only prompting me to explain further at certain points. When I stopped to take another break, his free arm reached over to my injured one, and I moved it so he could push the sleeve up and see the faint marks on my lower arm. His name contrasted nicely with my skin, the letter painting a pretty picture against the hateful reminders that were left by the naive women that thought she could easily sway me. 

“Sydney,” Eddie started, his voice incredibly soft. “I promise you that with what time you choose to spend with me, I am going to spend all of it making sure you understand what you mean to me. And not just surface level, you need to understand how much of you lives in me.”

“Eddie,” I leaned back, confused. “This is my fault. If I would have listened to you at the arcade, she never would have approached me today and got what she wanted. Who knows how many people she’s started spreading that shit to.”

“I could give two shits about what she’s saying.” Eddie said. He shifted slightly so he could brush his thumb over the mark, a warm feeling passing through me. He wrapped his around my wrist, bringing my arm up to his lips as he kissed over each of the purpling marks. My breath turned shallow, my face heating up at the intimacy about it all. “I care that she hurt you. That she thought for a second she could touch my mark.”

“Eddie-”

“Sydney,” Eddie interrupted me and dropped my arm back into my lap. Before I could protest, he was pushing himself a little further back in the van and reaching over to move me closer to him. He didn’t stop there, moving so I was seated in his lap, straddling him as I faced him. I didn't have time to react as my hands rested on his shoulders, his moving to grab at my waist. This position was new, so new that I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. Sensing my anxiety, Eddie moved to rub a hand down my back as I relaxed, one of mine moving to play with his hair. “It is not and ever will be your fault. You want someone to blame? Blame Jason for turning this town against me, blame Powell for labeling me as a suspect so quickly. Blame Vecna because he’s the one that got us into this.”

“Baby,” Eddie swallowed hard, my eyes tracking his movement. “I need you to understand something and I'm tired of being worried of going too fast. So please just listen to me and trust me that I’m being completely honest with you?”

“I trust you,” I said quietly. 

“I’ve waited my whole life for you.” Eddie started. “Watching my dad get locked up, moving in with Wayne, being treated like shit for being different in this conservative town. I knew that at one point none of that was going to matter because one day you would walk into my life and I’d have the one person that understood me. The one person that had a piece of myself in them. Then Vecna happened and as I after everyone put me together again, I kept thinking that this was it. I lived my whole life waiting for you and never got to met you this time.”

Eddie shifted, moving to pull the blanket around us as a strong breeze hit the van. He tugged it at my shoulders, pushing me to move closer to him. 

“Hell, there were days that I could just be sitting there and I’d get this feeling. Like you were right beside me and your emotions were so strong. You were sad all the time, scared most of the time. I was so worried about the circumstances that I would be meeting you in, and I prayed to any God out there that you wouldn’t get involved with all of this. And then you just showed up, looking so scared on Hopper’s couch like you didn’t know where to go from there.”

Eddie shrugged and looked up at me. Very slowly he moved his hand up to cup my check, bringing his forehead to rest against mine. “I know that you haven’t known about me as long as I’ve known about you. I understand that where you grew up, you didn’t know that you had a soulmate waiting out there for you. But Sydney, I’m willing to wait forever for you. I’ll wait till you're ready to trust me, to trust that no matter what we might get ourselves into, that I’ll always get you out. But you have to let me in, baby. You have to understand that I’m always going to put you first. Just like you did today, putting me first and trying to stop that lady. I’ve waited too long in this lifetime to meet you, and I’ve paid my dues. You’re it for me, sweetheart. I’m going to spend every day that you let me trying to prove that to you.”

Eddie rubbed away a few tears that I didn’t realize had fallen. How could he feel so deeply? How did he just know that I was it for him? I wasn’t worth all this trouble; but if our positions were reversed, I’d feel the same way. If there was anyone in this world I could trust completely, it was him. 

“Eddie,” I sniffled and moved a hand to rub at his marked wrist. A shiver running between us at the overwhelming feeling of each other. “I’m a lot. You’re going to get sick of me.”

“Nah,” Eddie teased as he pulled his face away from mine so he could meet my eyes. “I think it's going to be the other way around.”

“I’m sorry,” I felt my lip wobble as I tried to hold in some of the emotions that were trying to pour out. “I really want to trust this. I trust you. I-”

“Hey, hey” Eddie shushed as pulled back towards his chest, my face resting against his neck. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I just want you to understand that what I feel for you is so deep. And I’m not sad, because I know that one day you’ll feel that way for me too. I’m willing to wait lifetimes for you. I’m just lucky I got to experience you in this life too.”

He moved a hand to trace at my mark. “A piece of me is always going to live here, and a piece of you is going to always live in mine. We are together in this.”

“Together,” I repeated after him. 

We could do that.

Hello my beautiful people! I'm sorry for the lack of updates, I hope this long chapter makes up for it! So the time jumps are about to start happening and then we are getting into the real guts of this story. How are we feeling? How are we feeling about Steve and Sydney's relationship? I wanted them to have a sibling bond, something close the what he was with Robin, but different. We all know that Robin is his twin flame, but that doesn't mean he can't have siblings. :)

Leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @silky-luxe @disaster-in-waiting @sadbitchfangirl@welliguessiwritethingsnow @comboboo@tuttigunner@avalon-wolf @kaitebugg03

[depressedbagpipe]

"Blackbird to Robin, do you copy?" (Billy Russo x ofc)

Chapter two

Words: 4223 Warnings: smoking, reader being poor, mentions of alcohol, minor foul-language. A/N: i owe u guys an apology. my adhd has been acting up and my new hyperfixation (aka f1 drivers) didn't help. I've been rewriting this chapter for weeks because i never liked how it looked when finished and I'm still not sure i like it now, but it's certainly better than it was before. thank u guys so much for waiting <3 also i have zero idea about how the ivy league works so just pretend dana is getting her master's degree Taglist: @badasseddy, @noortsshift, @britishbassett

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Chapter two

The glaring red numbers of my nightstand clock showed it was only two in the morning, yet no matter how many times I had tossed and turned in bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. My eyes had been closed ever since I got under the duvet, wrapped in extra blankets hoping the soft material would lull me into a much-needed rest to escape the nightmarish evening. But my mind was still reeling even after more than an hour of simply laying there. Every interaction, every conversation, every gesture, absolutely everything I had ever done was coming in quick flashes in my head, making it impossible to sleep. So I gave up.

None of it felt real. Only twenty-four hours ago I was stressing about making enough tips to pay for the week’s rent and remembering the many due dates for the upcoming semester’s assignments. Now, I had an ex-marine turned bodyguard sleeping in the other room while someone out there had threatened to kill me.

My head spun slightly when I got up, throwing the warm covers off my body and stretching a bit once I was back on my feet. I looked around the dark room, where the only light came from the big window. The city was alive outside, yet only a few sounds slipped through the cracks in the walls. 

Grabbing the sweater I had draped over a chair, I walked to the window and opened it, relishing in the cold air that blew on my face as I stepped onto the fire escape. I sat on the iron stairs that stood on the left side, carefully tugging the fabric closer to my body with shaky hands. I stared out at the street that extended before me, once again becoming a mere observer of the world around me. Despite the street not being a particularly busy one, many people walked below me, some of them with heavy suitcases, walking fast, and others with hidden alcohol bottles in their hands, walking slowly. My fingers grazed the corner of the cigarette packet that had been left forgotten in my sweater’s pocket. The sudden urge overpowered my brain, and before I could stop myself, my hands were automatically lighting one up and bringing it closer to my lips. My lungs welcomed the dark smoke like an old friend, making me close my eyes while the haziness that clouded my mind slowly dissipated. 

‘You shouldn’t smoke,’ a voice spoke on my right. 

I jumped at the suddenness, almost dropping the cigarette in surprise. Opening my eyes, I found Billy, casually leaning on the wall at the far end of the fire escape, with the window leading to the living room wide open. 

I sent him a look.

‘It’s bad for your health,’ he nodded at the packet in my hand. 

‘I’m not a smoker,’ I responded, a mixed cloud of vapor and smoke escaping through my lips.

‘That’s what every smoker says.’

He was still wearing his suit, with his jacket long abandoned. He had one leg crossed over the other and his back resting on the old bricks. His tied moved with the wind, and so did a few strays of hair. He wasn’t looking at me; his eyes faced forwards, examining the opposite building, and the many lives that inhabited it through the lit windows.

‘It’s more of a social convenience,’ I responded before taking another drag. 

The cigarette dangled between my fingers, following his eyes. The familiar weight still felt foreign in my hand.

‘Yet you’re alone now.’

‘Care to join me, then?’ I pulled another from the packet, offering it to him. 

Billy turned to me with tired eyes. His pupils blended with the irises in the night. With a few steps towards me, he swiftly grabbed it in his fingers. I grabbed the lighter again, igniting it as I continued it. ‘Just needed another one. It’s been a long day.’

Billy got closer, lowering his head, the cigarette firm between his lips, to light it up. The close proximity made me shiver. Whether it was from the cold or not, I couldn’t tell.

‘Tell me about it,’ he raised his eyebrows before he took a long drag. He took a couple of steps back and closed his eyes in relief. The light clench of his jaw seemed to disappear almost immediately. 

My lips curved at the sight. ‘I thought smoking was bad for your health,’ I teased, watching rather marveled how he effortlessly carried on.

He shook his head with a light smirk. ‘Social convenience,’ he said, looking at me for a split second before returning his gaze to the other building.

We stood there for a while in complete silence. The ashes pooled at our feet before finally slipping through the gaps in the iron and falling to their oblivion. We were the only ones on the fire escape, most of my neighbors being of old age already in bed hours ago. Billy kept his distance but remained closer to me after grabbing the cigarette. I didn’t know who he was doing it for, but the quick glances I took at his figure almost made me wish he were standing closer. There was no denying he was extremely attractive, but the circumstances were impossible to ignore. Even if no threat had ever come my way, Billy still represented everything I was trying to fight against.

‘I’m sorry,’ I suddenly spoke.

Those words have been mulling in my brain for some while, but until that moment, I had been too afraid to say anything. Whatever peace we had found between us wasn’t strong enough, and yet I had broken it without much thought. 

‘Hm?’ he answered. I knew he had been somewhere else just by the way his posture became rigid again. He moved his head slightly, just enough to know he had heard me, but it wasn’t until I repeated the words that he looked back at me. ‘What for?’

‘I know I’m not the most…’ I paused. ‘Cooperative person. And you’re just trying to do your job,’ I looked down at my fingers. My cigarette was almost gone, just the filter left like a tiny speck of dust in my hand. ‘I don’t mean to be hostile, I just…’ I rubbed my eyes, anything to distract me from his intoxicating eyes. ‘I’m not used to having people care about me. Paid or not,’ I added in a low voice. 

Billy didn’t answer for a few seconds. Some cops were patrolling underneath us, threatening a group of young boys to go back to their homes. New York was never a silent place, yet for some reason, Billy’s silence was louder. 

‘I’m sorry, too,’ he finally replied. 

I dared to look at him. This time our roles had been reversed; he was the one looking down now. The tip of his expensive show was pressing down the residue of his cigarette. ‘Sometimes I forget that my life isn’t the norm for everyone. Ambushing you at your university, and the interrogation…’ he trailed off.

I physically winced at the memory. ‘Not the best approach,’ I attempted to joke, copying his movements and putting my cigarette out too.

‘There’s never a good approach. Sometimes you gotta numb yourself to carry on. Otherwise, it’s too much.’

He turned fully to me. The wind had picked up, and his hair little resembled his prior combed perfection. Now, it seemed alive. Human.

‘I swear I didn’t know about your mom. Or your whole life, for that matter,’ he spoke. He regarded me with such intensity that I had to will myself to not look away. He was clearly sending a message, and he was intending for me to receive it.

‘I know. You’re just doing your job. It’s alright,’ was my response. Gone was the peace of the cold night. I wanted to hide in my room again, away from this conversation, and away from him.

I hid my trembling hands in my pockets.

He shook his head. ‘It’s not in my nature to be gentle.’

My breath got stuck in my throat. ‘I’d expect that from Frank, to be honest. But not from you,’ I tried to keep the conversation light. Anything to escape the depth his eyes withheld. ‘I think I’m gonna get some sleep now,’ I whispered. 

My silent way out.

He nodded. ‘You feeling better now?’ he took a couple of steps back, allowing me to stand up and walk down the few stairs to his level.

‘Yeah. Thank you, for the social convenience,’ I shrugged. 

Maybe, just by being nonchalant, he wouldn’t know what really went through my mind. But then again, even I didn’t know what was going through my mind. 

‘Anytime,’ he nodded.

He offered his hand for me to climb through my window. I looked at it for a split second before taking it, the warmth of his hand encompassing my naturally cold one as I grabbed the window sill, ducking under the arch. I thanked him quietly once I was safely inside, turning around to shrug my sweater off and back to its place on the chair. I felt his eyes on my back, following my every move around my room, but I dared not look back at him. I pulled the heavy curtains, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I was once again alone in the dark, with just my thoughts to keep my company. Before they got too much, I got back into my duvet. This time, it didn’t take me long to finally fall asleep. 

···

‘Really, you don’t have to do this, Billy,’ I shook my head as he swiped his card at the register. ‘I may be broke, but I can still pay for my own coffee.’

He sent the young barista a dazzling smile, placing one hand on the small of my back and grabbing our takeout in the other. He guided me to the side of the bar to wait for our orders to be ready. 

‘This is a tip for you: don’t pay for the things you can get for free,’ he winked at me just before the barista called his name, handing him two steaming to-go cups with the flirtiest grin I had ever seen. 

I didn’t fail to notice the small paper she slipped through his fingers. 

‘Is that how you got your fortune?’ I raised my eyebrows at him while I led him outside, opening the door for him. I couldn’t tell if I was asking about the flirting or the paying. 

I also saw Billy discreetly discard the paper as he stepped out of the café.

‘Smiling also works,’ he answered, nodding once more to his driver, who had been waiting for us by the entrance of the shop. 

The man in black opened the door for us with a graceful movement, closing it after Billy stepped in, and walked to the front and the driver’s seat. 

‘Take us to my apartment, Jonathan,’ Billy called from the seat next to mine, sitting comfortably on the back and not even bothering to buckle up. 

I shook my head at him, seeing how he grabbed his phone and leaned back on his seat with legs far too long, yet managing to cross one over the other, occupying even more space. Meanwhile, I didn’t move from my place, not even daring to look up front, trying to give Jonathan some privacy, making sure not to spill my breakfast over the expensive leather.

I couldn’t help but look out the tainted window, the skyscrapers zooming by as Billy’s chauffeur took us to our next destination. Despite being only 7 am, the people seemed to have been awake forever. I took careful sips of my coffee, the semi-sweet scent having nothing to do with the low-quality one I served at my job. The morning was cold and cloudy, with fog covering the tallest buildings. Days like those made the city look like a snowball, a world within itself. Those were the days I looked forward to the most. 

As expected, Billy’s ‘apartment’ turned out to be the entire penthouse on one of the most luxurious apartment complexes in town. Even the doorman came out to greet him, pressing the elevator for him as he complimented his newest economic investments. His words were practiced and rehearsed; did Billy know, and he probably did, but he didn’t dwell on it. He merely nodded and thanked him politely, smiled when he had to, and asked the right questions. 

The doorman kept talking even as the elevator doors closed, leaving him behind. Billy sighed deeply, but kept his eyes forwards, staring at his own reflection on the glass panel. I did the same, suddenly feeling nervous. 

I had put my whole life in his hands. I had been the prey since the day I was born, but I could now be standing next to the hunter. And he was luring me straight to his house.

The elevator opened to the foyer of his residence, the while pearls dangling from a chandelier casting thousands of delicate lights over our faces.

‘Welcome to Chez Russo,’ Billy extended his arm for me to walk first. 

I stepped out of the elevator without saying anything. I couldn’t. I was too busy staring down at my reflection on the polished marble floors. Just the receiving area was already fancier than anything I had ever seen before. My neck even cramped from looking upwards, staring at the skillful details of the chandelier. Underneath the fixture was a polished wooden table with a vase of radiant fresh flowers. I walked around it, noticing the golden-framed mirror on the side, adding more depth to the circular room. With self-pity, I noticed that the foyer was already bigger than my living room, and the high ceiling with the skylight on top was just another reminder of our many differences. 

I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, noticing the wonder in my eyes and the many fuzzballs on my old scarf, compared to the slicked-back polished look Billy had when he walked over the other side, despite his clothes being a day old. 

He now walked a few steps in front of me, and I forced myself to tread through the white columns into an even more impressive living area. But I could barely focus on all the modern furniture around me, for my attention was immediately drawn to the floor-to-ceiling window that extended all over the outer wall. 

‘Alright, feel free to look around, I’m gonna hop in the shower and get ready,’ Billy interrupted my thoughts. ‘We still have an hour for your class and I won’t be long. There’s drinks and food in the kitchen if you’d like anything. Remote’s on the coffee table over there, grab any book you want, and get comfortable,’ he added before disappearing through a hidden hall. 

He didn’t give me any time to respond. The echo of his steps moving away against the silent walls gave me chills as I looked around at the large space I found myself in. The high walls seemed to go on forever, and the slick design of the penthouse only accentuated the luxurious style that complimented Billy’s personality. 

But it was the view that caught my breath. I knew the window showed Central Park, yet the fog made it almost impossible to see anything below. It made the apartment suspended over the clouds, and the height allowed actual sunrays to flood the room. I stood there, not daring to move. I thoroughly disliked heights and just standing that close made my head spin. It almost looked like there wasn’t a glass between me and the clouds. 

I knew I stood out in the middle of such extravagance. I didn’t belong there. 

I don’t know how long I remained there, but Billy was already gently tapping my shoulder to catch my attention.

‘Dana, you alright?’ I turned around to find his dark eyes on me, slightly furrowed at the creases. ‘I called you several times, is something wrong?’

I shook my head. ‘Yeah, yeah. I just… was admiring the view,’ I answered, gesturing behind me. 

‘To be honest, that’s why I bought the place,’ he stood next to me, also looking at the view. ‘It’s the best thing about it.’

I whistled, for a split second thinking how much the penthouse would’ve cost him. ‘I can’t imagine what it’d be like to wake up every day to this,’ I said.

Billy nodded. ‘You get used to it.’

‘I don’t think I ever could. I’d stay here every day for hours.’

‘Sometimes, I wish I had more time to observe, too,’ Billy’s tone was wistful, but he quickly regained his composure. ‘C’mon, you’ll be late for class,’ he said. 

Only when he started walking I noticed his appearance. His hair was back in place, smelling of fresh shampoo and new cologne. I knew his suit was different, as was his tie, and shows, but I saw no difference. 

‘Are you wearing the same clothes?’ I asked as I followed after him, stopping at the elevator back at his entrance. 

He scoffed. ‘This is clearly a different suit,’ he took his black sunglasses in his hands, staring at me in disbelief. 

We both knew our conversation wasn’t serious, but for some reason, I didn’t want it to stop. 

‘Then, are all your suits black?’

‘No? I have more colors in my closet, Dana.’

‘Yet you’re wearing black again,’ I noted. I smiled at him as we stepped into the elevator, pressing my back against the wall as I looked at him, dropping his shoulders in annoyance.

‘They’re not. This one’s ebony; yesterday’s onyx.’

His tone was casual, experienced. If it wasn’t for his eyes, I would’ve thought he was mocking me. But then, maybe he was.

‘Right,’ I rolled my eyes, the corner of my lips lifting ever so lightly. 

The elevator opened to the lobby, but Billy quickly guided me to the other side, where another elevator stood forgotten on the opposite end of the building.

‘I thought we were going to my class,’ I asked, confused.

The doorman looked at us curiously, pretending to read a magazine behind his large desk. 

‘We are,’ Billy answered after pressing the button.

I shook my head. ‘I love it when you’re so talkative,’ I pressed him, sighing deeply when I didn’t get an answer.

‘I’m driving you,’ Billy said at last.

‘What about Jonathan?’

‘What about him?’

‘He’s your driver, Billy.’

‘I know how to drive, Dana.’

The conversation was cut short as soon as the elevator came and took us down to the garage, where many expensive cars stood waiting to be used.

My mouth dropped as we walked amongst them, their shiny and polished hoods almost mocking me. Ferrari, Lamborghini, Alpine, McLaren… all big names that had me drooling as I stared at my guilty pleasure. Whatever ounce of self-respect and class consciousness was lost immediately, my own ideals being thrown out the window as I pictured myself driving one of them, despite what my life and career were aiming to.

Billy whisked his key set from his pocket, pressing down on it quickly. At the end of the large garage, a black Rolls Royce unlocked before us. I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared at the model, too flabbergasted to notice Billy opening the passenger’s door for me.

‘You coming? We have fifteen minutes,’ he had a little twinkle in his eye as he looked at me. 

He was enjoying this. 

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,’ I shook myself out of my daze, walking to him. 

I moved carefully as I stepped inside, the soft leather feeling rich under my old jeans. 

Billy closed the door for me, walking around the car to sit in the driver’s seat. He got inside with practiced ease, and less than a minute later, we were speeding down the busy streets of Manhattan, the smooth wheels making us float over the road. 

The caramel skin of the cabin contrasted with the cracked screen of my old phone, but thankfully, I didn’t have time to feel bad about myself, for the big classic Roman façade of Columbia University came into view rather quickly. 

As soon as the car came to a halt in one of the many parking spots for the students, I unbuckled my belt and opened the door, not even waiting for Billy to say anything else.

‘C’mon,’ I called him, trying to make him keep up. ‘I can’t be late.’

‘You didn’t seem to care earlier at the garage,’ he walked beside me with a few long strides, adjusting his sunglasses over his nose.

‘I mean, who wouldn’t prefer a Rolls Royce over a college lecture,’ I rolled my eyes as I walked up the stairs to the grand building that stood tall and proud before us. 

Many of the walking students stopped to stare at us. Or rather, at Billy. He walked with such poised grace that it was almost impossible to believe he used to be a soldier. The thought alone sent shivers down my spine, but then again, my biological father probably had a high body count too. 

Some students whispered under their breath, pointing at the man by my side, with eyebrows raised in recognition. Heat rose to my cheeks, the sudden attention making me uncomfortable.

Once we reached the door to the main hall, I turned to face Billy with a serious face. 

‘Alright, this is already embarrassing so please, don’t make it worse. Don’t talk, don’t stare, don’t even breathe if you can help it. Copy?’ I asked him.

His eyes widened in surprise at my sudden outburst. He raised his hands in defense.

‘Copy.’

With a sigh and one last look, I opened the door. 

···

‘Dana!’ a familiar voice called after me. ‘Where the hell have you been, loca?’

I audibly laughed at Owen, who then proceeded to throw his arms around me and spin me around, Jacob Black style.

‘How original,’ I joked, smiling widely at the only friend I had at college.

‘You know you love it,’ he winked, his eyes darkening as they fell on Billy.

His posture seemed to straighten when he gave him a look over.

‘Oh, uh, Owen, this is Billy,’ I introduced them, though both men simply nodded at each other. 

They held each other’s gaze almost challengingly. 

‘It’s a pleasure, Owen,’ Billy nodded as he looked down at the slightly shorter man.

‘Likewise,’ Owen answered, and focused his blue eyes back on me. ‘Where were you yesterday? I thought you said you’d be at the library all evening,’ he furrowed his eyebrows. 

I widened my eyes. ‘Yeah, uh… something came up,’ I said, feeling Billy’s eyes carving a hole in the back of my head.

‘What about today?’

‘I can’t, I got a late shift at the café,’ I answered.

‘Right… then I can run down for a while,’ Owen offered. 

I nodded. ‘Yeah, totally! I’ll let Harper know you’re coming by!’

‘Dana,’ Billy interrupted. His tone was dryer and lower than it had been all day. A silent warning.

‘Right, uh, we gotta go now, we’ll catch up later?’ I asked Owen.

‘Sure, see ya!’

I couldn’t properly say goodbye, for Billy was already grabbing me by my arm and walking me to the main entrance of the building.

He let go of my arm as soon as we stepped outside, yet he walked a couple of feet in front of me as he led me back to his car. Only once we were back inside, out of prying eyes and ears, he spoke. 

‘Who’s that?’ 

I frowned. ‘Owen.’

‘I can see that. Where do you know him from?’

I shrugged. ‘We have a few classes together.’

‘Since when?’ 

‘He transferred mid-term from Yale. Had a change of heart, apparently.’

‘What’s that about coming by later?’

‘We’re doing some research together for a class. We were gonna meet up yesterday, but yeah… You know what happened.’

‘I don’t trust him.’

His tone matched his earlier warning. His eyes were focused on the road, but maintained a firm grip on the steering wheel. It almost felt like I wasn’t there.

‘Well, that sucks for you,’ I pulled my phone out, desperate to do something with my hands. ‘I’m not failing a class just because you don’t like someone. I mean I wouldn’t have graduated otherwise.’

‘He’s not on my file.’

I froze on the spot. ‘Billy,’ I warned him, but I was too stunned.

‘Dana.’

‘Don’t.’

‘Don’t what?’

‘Don’t tell me you have a file for every single passerby that looks my way.’

‘That’s precisely what I’m here for.’

The drive seemed longer now.

‘That’s gotta be exhausting,’ I didn’t know what else to answer.

‘Well, at least I’m getting paid.’

I saw his eyes widen in shock at his statement, shaking his head immediately at me as he apologized. But the harm was already done.

‘Don’t mention it. It’s true.’ 

I looked outside my window. Anything to not look at him. 

‘I didn’t mean…’ but I cut him.

‘It’s fine.’

‘It’s not.’

‘Just drop it, Billy…’ my voice was shaky. But I refused to let any tears fall. ‘Please, just take me home.’

Next chapter

[stardancerluv]

Pumpkin and the Beast

Part 2

Summary: Some of a school day with Eddie and Pumpkin.

Warning/Notes: Regular school angst…Jason Carver makes an appearance. The chapter starts with lyrics (they are in italics) from the band known as The Cult and the song is Rain.

Please, enjoy! Reblogs are awesome! ❤️s are fantastic! And I love comments/feedback!

I've been waiting

For her for so long

Open the sky

And let her come down

For a little while you happily swished your head from side to side from the music that poured from Eddie’s speakers.

“Eddie.”

You happily wiggled your feet in the air, since you were too short to reach the floor. He had gotten used to you dancing, what least it was you called it. He called it your happy wiggles.

“I like this.” You smiled, glancing over at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yup.”

“Its The Cult.” He slowly smiled, there was a twinkle in eye that you couldn’t miss. “That place Bloomington called me.”

Your heart leapt, you knew how he had been waiting about a week to hear back from them.

“Eddie what did they say?”

He pulled up to the red light, a smile was spread from one side of his face to the other. “We got the gig! Next Saturday night the boys and I will be preforming in Bloomington!”

A cheer of delight burst from you, and without thinking you immediately leaned over and hugged him tight. You smiled up at him. “I am so happy for you!” You felt as he gave you a soft squeeze.

“Thanks pumpkin. Well, you were the first to say we’d get it and we did.” He smiled down brightly at you.

“Well me and…”

A honking of a horn cut off your words.

You pulled back. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” You whispered.

Eddie made a face. “It just changed.” He muttered something you couldn’t make out as he stuck his head out the window.

“Learn how to drive freak!” You heard the muffled shout from Jason, before revving his engine and tearing his orange Dodge charger around Eddie’s van, rocking it.

Your heart sank further.

Eddie, reached over and turned the music up. The silence became thick in the van. You had learned from him it was ok to express your feelings, yet right now you wished you could go back to moments ago when he was so happy. Jason could be so mean, like why you wondered.

It wasn’t long before he pulled into the school’s parking lot. Before you could glance at Eddie, to see how be was. He had snatched up your knapsack and was at your door.

“Ma’ lady.” He said in his wonderfully theatrical voice he used to the Hellfire meetings or when he shared his campaigns.

He offered you his hand. You took it and with a small jump, landed on the ground besides Eddie.

He handed you back your knapsack. “Here pumpkin.”

“Thank you.”

He reached behind you and grabbed his black metal lunch box. You hoped he actually had some food in there today. It hurt you to see him skip out on lunch from time to time.

“Eddie?” His brown didn’t look as dark or as sad as moments ago, so you supposed that was better but it still made you sad.

He gave you a smile. “Yes, pumpkin?” His tone was sweet but something behind it didn’t carry the usual flutter it gave you.

“Never mind. We better get to class.”

His mouth became a thin line. “I’ll be there shortly. I gotta tell the boys the good news.”

Your heart lifted, that would make Eddie happy again. “I’ll tell Miss Andrews you were dropping my books at the library in case you don’t arrive in time for the bell.”

He smiled. “You are too sweet.” He winked and despite him doing it quite a few times over these last few months, it still made you tingle in your tummy.

******

Miss Andrew didn’t look happy as she was writing the date on the black board. You held your note book close to your chest as you rocked on your feet as you waited by her large desk.

You heard her inhale before she spoke, and it was only then did you look up at her.

“Yes, Miss YLN?”

You bit your bottom lip before giving her a big smile. “Miss Andrews, my library books got to heavy for me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” You replied sweetly. “So Eddie is dropping them off at the library for me, so I wouldn’t be late.”

“I see. Well, I hope he’s back before we start taking notes.”

“I think so.” You smiled and headed to the back where you and Eddie usually sat.

Once again you had to fluff your skirt. It had ridden up once you tucked yourself in behind your desk. Opening your knapsack, you took out your favorite purple pen and bright red notebook with MATH scrawled across it.

The bell rang. You grimaced and chewed your cheek. Eddie’s seat remained empty.

Opening your notebook you turned to a fresh clean page. In big scrawly print you wrote out the date. Passing your homework forward a few moments later, you idly began to draw and doodle in your notebook. You were growing a little concerned for Eddie, but you knew he’d show up, he just had to.

You were in the middle of drawing a daisy, when you heard the a knock that only one person could make sound that dramatic. Glancing up, you saw how be leaned in the doorway, Miss Andrew turned and blowing her bangs from in front of her eyes, she shook her head.

“Come on in Munson, try not be so late being a gentlemen next time will you?”

He smiled and made a big show of shrugging his shoulders. “No act is too small or too big when being a gentleman.”

A smile flashed but disappeared from her face. “Alright, on with it Mr. Munson get to your seat. Miss YLN will tell you where we are.”

He smiled and and pointed at her. “You got it teach.”

His bandanna swished at his side before climbed into his seat, his handcuff belt which Eddie never gave you a straight answer about clanked as he finally settled behind his desk. Miss Andrews glanced back at the sound before turning back to the blackboard.

He leaned over, he looked happier which made you happier. “I didn’t miss much did I?”

Shaking your head, your ponytail swished. “Nope. She was about to start notes.”

“Ok.”

********

You squealed and giggled out of nowhere as Eddie came up behind you and swung you around unexpectedly.

“Eddie, Eddie put me down!” You giggled.

“Not yet.” He whispered into your ear.

“Eddie!”

He swung you around one more time. His laughter filling your ear, before finally putting you down.

You immediately tugged down your skirt. You hoped that no one saw the ruffles on your panties as he swung you around.

“That was fun.” He remarked breathlessly.

With a sigh, you leaned back and jumping not only feel Eddie’s solid warmth but the firmness of his belt against you. Making you jump. “Eddie!” You squealed once again and turning around you smack his arm. “I didn’t realize you were still behind me.”

He chuckled, shrugging he moved till he leaned against the lockers beside you. “Sorry doll.”

Glancing into you the mirror you reapplied your lip gloss. After making a kissy face at your reflection, you glanced at Eddie. “You may be sorry Eddie Munson but you are evil!”

He quietly drew closer to you. He stood at his full height, no slouching or leaning and he looked right down at you. “Oh, did big ol’ bad, Eddie scare you pumpkin?”

“Yes.” You tried to say firmly crossing your arms in front of you, looking right up into his brown eyes. But you broke into giggles. It wasn’t long before his own joined yours.

“So I got to talk to all the boys about Bloomington.” He said, once he was leaning against the lockers again.

You smiled brightly, glancing at Eddie. “I bet they are so happy.” Chewing the inside of your cheek, you looked over your books.

“Over the moon!” You loved seeing the huge smile spread across his face. “Gareth was so excited, he didn’t even eat his lunch.”

Kneeling, you stuffed some books finally into your knapsack. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you asked hesitantly. “Did you eat?”

“Nah, too excited.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

You stood. “Eddie.”

“If I recall, you weren’t there.” He replied his eyebrows raised. “Did you eat today?”

“Mrs. Flores, wanted me to make photocopies for her.”

“And…” He made a face, then smiled “See you didn’t eat either.”

“I guess. Well, we can go and grab something now. You pick.” You rocked happily on your feet.”

His face fell. “Oh, I forgot. Gareth invited us to jam; well practice at his house before Hellfire. He’s ordering us a a pizza or something.”

“Oh.” You said brightly, despite your heart sinking. “Good.”

He stood and rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry I forgot about you and me time.” He chewed hip. I promise to make it up to you.”

“It’s ok. This is important.” You said as rightly as you could. Deep down you knew he was right but after the test you had in history and the quiz in chemistry, you were looking for time with Eddie.

******

Happily you skipped beside him as he told all of his plans. He made grand hand gestures and his face contorted as he told how he would try and come up with a fresh playlist for the gig. You were very happy for him.

His excitement filled the van after we climbed in. “We’re gonna need any extra practice we can fit in before next weekend.”

You nodded. “I will have to get to the mall and buy myself a new dress.” You began to wonder what color you should go with. You wanted to look extra pretty since this would be such an important performance.

His fingers were strumming on the steering wheel. “So you will come and see us preform?”

“Of course I will! I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great!”

@bebe0701 @eddieswifu @twentysomethingwereyote @gabriella-gvf @apocalypticwafflekitten @blackberries45 @buckymydarlingangel @readers-posts @grunge-grrrl @ofherscarlettwitchways @making-the-most-0f-it @chaos-incorp @dandycandy75 @poltergeistsblog @alyssinwunderland-blog-blog @helpimspiraling @thegirlwhohides @corrodedcoffn @notbeforelong

[battlemaiden13]

Hi hello! I dont think my og ask went through so i probably wont be able to recapture the excitement but!

So years ago when it was first starting up i read hnd and then kinda dropped it at some point but! I returned seeing it still updated!

My goal was to finish my reread before chapter 100 which i did last week and omg i completely fell in love w it once again!

I am like so particular about characterization of skeletons but as the fic went on I just loved seeing how u explore every single one of them more and more and just give them more quirks! And how eventually we start seeing their dynamics outside of mc! Its just so great! And i could honestly go off on a rant but this is already long ask ahaha

Anyway im edgy skeleton truther, end of chapter 99 left me in shambles and i cant wait for more!

(Also ur fic mightve motiveted me to draw some fanart but shshsh)

Oh my gosh!! No, HELLO! AH no, no your other one did send, it's here!! I just haven't been in the best headspace recently nor had the time to write back! Your other comment said it's been up since 2017 which is insane to me. I can't believe I've been writing it that long and that people are still reading it. I happy to see it's good enough to have people coming back to it XD

Congratulations on catching up! that's no easy feat I'm sure, I'm so happy that you love it to!! I have so many plans for the next like part of HND hopefully by chapter 200 she's dating the skeletons and we can get into some real juicy stuff. That seems like a slow enough burn right? XD

I'm really happy that you like the skeletons interactions! In future I might write some chapters just with the boys hanging out with one enough to deepen that too. I think it would be fun to explore characters who don't usually interact as often or even build better bonds. Berry and Blue have such a fun dynamic but I also love Blue and Red hanging out. If you wanted I wouldn't mind reading a rant about skeleton interactions and quirks XD

Chapter 99 is some of my best work. I've already had to re-read it a few times, something I've only done with a few chapters and I am in love. I made myself simp over the edgy boi. I really want chapter 100 to have more of those moments but there's a lot going on so it might have to be saved. Expect more of the sipping seen in chapter 99 to happen over the next stage of HND though because hot damn.

Holy heck please, please, if you've drawn anything please let me see it. I love fanart. Even if you want to send it on anon and request I don't post it, or tag me! It really makes my day. Of course if you don't want to that's fine to, I am really happy to know I've inspired you that much

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoy the next stage of this story as much as I will enjoy writing it

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Unwanted Mate - Chapter 1 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Calvin Frey

The Pack House was busy with others getting ready for school, work and parents dropping off their pups for pack daycare.

It's also been more crowded than usual with new members staying here until their homes are ready.

Torin spent most of his time with the pups or purposely annoying Robby.

So after discovering that he wasn't in any of the colorful and already loud playrooms, I decided to check Robby's office.

Pack Mates greeted me and I murmured quiet hellos or nodded my head in acknowledgment.

They were use to my silence.

The office door was open so I stepped in only to turn back out.

Seeing my best friend making out with my little brother was a sight I'd like to never see.

Sadly, it was something pretty much everyone had witnessed by now. Even our poor mother.

"Calvin," Robby called and I risked peaking in.

Seeing that they were done eating each other's faces, I stepped back into the room.

My pup wiggled until I put him down so he could run to his uncles.

Torin was still sitting in Robby's lap and picked Benjamin up so they could both smother him with affection.

It surprises me that they still haven't had any pups of their own.

They'd make great parents.

"Have you finally come to your senses and are here to accept your place as my Beta?" Robby asked, looking up at me with a smirk.

I chuckled and shook my head.

"I told you to find someone else."

He'd asked me to be his Beta years ago when we were teenagers.

Then, I had gratefully accepted.

Hell, a couple of years ago I was ready to take on the task but after what happened I knew I couldn't devote myself to it.

I had Benjamin now and as his sole parent, he needed all of my attention.

"I'll get you to cave, eventually," Robby sounded determined and I didn't doubt he'd continue to try.

Not that I'd accept any time soon.

"I should get to work," I sighed, sitting the backpack filled with anything Benjamin could possibly need in the chair in front of the desk.

"Wait, I say bye papa," Benjamin yelled, rushing from around the desk to me.

I crouched down so he could hug me.

"Bye papa," he said cutely, kissing my cheek.

I made sure to give him a loud smooch on the cheek that made him giggle happily.

"Be good for your uncles."

"Otay."

It was always a struggling parting from him.

If I could, I'd carry my pup around with me everywhere.

There was always the fear that I'd miss some important or big moment.

Luckily I'd been there for his first words and first steps.

I hope I had the same luck for his first shift.

That could happen any day, it all depended on the pup.

It could be today or in five years.

My feet felt heavy as I forced myself to leave Benjamin behind.

If I kept this us, I was going to get fired for being regularly late to work.

Huffing, I stomped my way through the pack house.

I've used some of my vacation time to get a few days off to spend with my pup next week.

We both needed it.

Rounding the corner, I was hit in the face with a scent that made my breath catch and my knees grow weak.

It took a few seconds for my brain to catch up with my rapidly beating heart.

No... this couldn't be happening.

********

Drumming my fingers over the steering wheel nervously and staring up at the pack house, I imagined every possible way I could avoid going in.

My mind had been distracted since this morning.

Even working had been difficult.

The guys eventually got fed up with my mistakes that caused them to do more work.

After having been cursed out numerous times, I figured it was best that I left early.

Now I was faced with a new dilemma.

How to get my pup.

Torin wouldn't agree to bring Benjamin to the truck and no one in the pack house would go against their Luna.

He'll want me to stay for dinner too. I had no choice but to go in.

Running my fingers through my messy hair, I got out of the truck.

It's best to just get things over with and out of the way.

Maybe I can get Benjamin and sneak out.

I'll have to deal with Torin later but it was better than running into whoever it was that smelt like ripe peaches.

It was a nice day, not too cold but not yet warm enough to be considered spring.

I could hear that a lot of the Werewolves were in the back, enjoying the weather.

From the sound of their playful growls and howling, I knew most of them were in their furs.

I found my brother there amongst them all.

His copper toned pelt was easy to spot, along with the fact that he was the smallest wolf besides the young pups.

Torin and I never spent much time together in our furs or ever really.

I was always scared I'd hurt him, especially when we were younger and his wolf was no bigger than a small lap dog.

Robby didn't seem to have the same fear.

He chased after my brother and pounced on him, making my heart pause before spotting Torin wiggle free unharmed.

My pup didn't yet have his fur yet but it didn't stop him from playing along, imitating their growls and jumping on the large black wolf.

I knew if it were any other Alpha, they would have growled at the pup to teach him his place.

Benjamin waddled around in his puffy jacket, his little legs only allowing him to move but so fast.

His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, his little teeth on full display from the large smile.

He's my life now.

Everything I do is to make sure he's happy and comfortable.

I couldn't risk anything getting in the way of it.

Or anyone.

No one would pull me away from my pup.

No one would make me feel ashamed for having him.

His giggling pulled me closer and I picked him up, making him squeal before he noticed it was me.

"Papa."

"Having fun?" I chuckled, ruffling his hair.

Just being around him lifted my mood, taking my mind off everything worrisome.

"I'm a wolf," he gave a mock growl, his teeth snapping.

Torin appeared beside us, having quickly dressed because his shirt was on backwards.

I didn't mention it to him, he'll eventually figure it out.

"You're not suppose to be here for another two hours. You can't take him yet," Torin argued, looking devastated that he couldn't spend more time with my pup.

Benjamin reached out for his uncle who quickly snatched him from my arms and ran away inside to hold him hostage.

Robby chuckled, having not cared to get dressed besides pulling on a pair of jeans.

"Looks like you're stuck here for the rest of the day," Robby pointed out.

"Why don't you knock him up already," I growled irritably and Robby's smile turned smug.

I was distracted by a scent that I had ran from this morning.

I could do so again. Come back later and pick Benjamin up, when everyone's retiring to their rooms and there's no risk of running into anyone.

Unable to help myself, I took in a deep breath.

If there was ever a Utopia, it would be in that scent... such a subtle sweetness.

I wanted to roll around in it... cover it with my own scent.

Growling, my jaw clenched.

There was no running... I'd have to face them.

The quicker it's done, the faster I can go on about my life.

I couldn't run away every time I picked up that scent.

They'll eventually pick up mine, if they haven't already.

[kemakoshume]

Beneath the Wisteria Blooms ✾ — tengen x black!f!reader x rengoku (pt. 2)

warnings; no smutty cws (yet). there are original child characters in this, and more plot (derogatory). yes, this was an excuse to write tengen interacting with children—sue me!

a/n; remember how this was originally two chapters? well... i felt like i was forcing myself to rush to get to the porn and the quality sucked, SO i'm dividing what i've written into four chapters and fleshing it all out. this is ~[6.0k words]. i'm dropping the mood/vision board for this fic [here] again if you’re interested. also, a reminder, the reader is meant to be black but—like always—anyone can read my stuff (as long as you’re 18+ and respectful) ~ [ch one, ch two, ch three, ch four, ch five] ~

*caw*

*caw*

*caw*

“Lord Uzui Tengen approaches! Lord Rengoku Kyojuro approaches! West from the Mountain Jōnetsu, having defeated two lower-moon demons in the land of Kiken.” *caw caw* “The hashira are approaching!”

The crows’ caws rang through the night air, causing you to quicken your pace as you walked down the lantern-lit path to your communal home. The sky was alight with freckled stars and the warm glow of lanterns along the path lit your way easily—though, something deep in your bones weighed your legs down, like they were shrouded in lead.

“I already beat you to the lake, sister,” Ayra said, a few meters ahead of you as she skipped up the wide circular steps. “Should we make a bet about who makes it home first as well?”

You scoffed, jogging to close the distance between the two of you before stopping at the girl’s side. Your mind wandered as you went, preoccupied with thoughts of the night to come.

Ayra eyed you quizzically, looking down to steal glances at your face. “Are you alright? You’ve been dragging your feet since we hit the road’s fork. Nervous, perhaps?”

You looked up at Ayra, rolling your eyes in response to the very sly smile on the tall girl’s face. “When have you ever known for me to be the nervous type, sister?”

She hummed exaggeratedly, scrunching her face in that screwy—childish—way that your Mistress couldn’t stand. “Well… never. Still, I talked them up quite a bit with my rumors. They are hashira, after all—male hashira, too. They’ll be the first we’ve met since adulthood, hm? The thought of bedding men that strong can be nervewracking—especially if they’re as handsome as the rumors say.”

You hummed, sighing softly to yourself as you continued along the path.

“Don’t let your mind wander towards despair, sister; we haven’t even met them yet! The basket weaver’s daughter was the one who told me about the men’s beauty ages ago, but she very well could’ve been wrong. You know her eyes do go a bit wonky sometimes.”

“Ayra!” you said, smiling in disbelief at the girl’s words.

“What?” she said, her voice rising a few notches as she feigned innocence. “She’s a beautiful girl, but it’s true! I saw her mistake a pomegranate seed for a ruby once. So, perhaps we should not take her judgment on male beauty as gospel, hm? They could both very well be boorishly ugly—or not as experienced as one might imagine two well-traveled, highly sought-after, decorated men could be. Should that be the case, then all of your worryings will be for naught.”

“I’m not worried,” you said, though Ayra ignored your voice.

“And say they are handsome… who’s to know if they’ll desire to dominate you or mistreat you? Some men in power prefer the exact opposite. Or, they don’t prefer women at all—if you can believe it. Remember that kinoto-rank from the northwest that came by a few weeks ago? How he cried atop my breasts for hours because some swamp demon slew his mentor? They were lovers, I just know it. I guess it can’t be helped. Apparently, Samurai and demon slayers find solace in each other’s arms regardless of gender. Especially the more ‘laissez-faire’ ones who’ve lived in the populated districts in the south. So far, the men we’ve had aren’t as cultured as I would assume the hashira could be, but you’re no virgin. I’m sure you’ll manage to keep up with them someh—”

“Arya. Did you just say laissez-faire?” you said, a soft giggle following the word as it left your lips. “Wow, so you do read when you’re not busy collecting gossip like shiny new coins. I never would’ve guessed.”

Ayra sucked her teeth, knocking her arm against yours when she caught you smirking. You rubbed her arm soothingly, muttering soft apologies after you finished your teasing. Your laughs slowed as you exhaled a large huff of breath, and the path widened as you grew closer to your home.

“Truly, Ayra, I appreciate that you’re trying to perk up my spirits, but they’re not down. I was just enjoying the quiet of my mind before we host another night—nothing more. Suppose the hashira are indeed handsome and prove to be deserving of my time. In that case, I’ll indulge their urges just like the others who’ve shuffled onto their knees and begged for my affection, whatever that may entail. If not, I’ll do my required—professional—service thanks to their sacrifice, and they’ll be on their way in the morning. Mistress won’t force my hand either way, so there’s nothing to be nervous about. The night will be fine, whichever way the wind blows.”

You believed the words as you said them, but something deep in your gut stewed. Handsome men had come and gone as guests throughout the years you’d spent in the home, but none were as powerful as a hashira—not since you’d reached maturity and began your fun, at least. Nerves weren’t the right word to describe the feeling, but the anticipation lodged into your bones felt like magma along your veins; you felt yourself walking with bated breath to see what the night had in store.

Ayra made a jerky nod with her head, humming loudly in agreement with your sentiment. “Yes, my lady. The hashira will have a relaxing night—as will we. The involvement of semen in that equation will just have to be foreseen.”

You groaned, unable to stifle the gritty laugh that escaped your throat as you processed what your housemate said. “Ayra! Please—at least pretend to have some shame.”

The girl laughed, tossing her head back towards the sky. “Never. I will not be silenced,” she said, her giggles just as obnoxious as yours.

Any questions about nerves ceased after that, and you walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence—only narrated by the chirping of crickets and the crows chattering (loudly) to themselves, audible from your home’s entrance door back into the forest. You weren’t far, so the rear entrance of your home came into view before you knew it. Ayra sped up a bit, rushing into the house to sit down your used bathing tools in the washing bin, all of the items set aside to be cleaned sometime in the night or later in the morning. You sidestepped around her to sit on the bench against the wall in the wide entrance area—taking a moment to dunk your bare feet in the cleansing bucket by the wide-open shoji doors to scrub them clean before walking through the house.

The sound of sweet giggles filled your ears as you dried your feet with a towel and slid on your house slippers, followed by the incessant pattering of feet against the wooden floors. You tilted your head to the side, looking down the wide-open corridor to see all of your girls dressed and ready on the home’s main floor—all the girls situated into two even lines on either side of the plastered walls. At the head of the calvary stood your Mistress, flanked by the second youngest of your home—Sura—and her younger sister Sana—the sweet toddler holding onto your Mistress’s leg, half-hidden behind the skirt of the woman’s kimono.

“Look! See, Mistress? I told you they’d come back on time,” Sura said, stomping her feet in excitement as she held onto the older woman’s hand. Her rich chocolate brown hair sat in curled pigtails on the sides of her head, swinging along with the movement of her petite body as she swayed back and forth, pointing over at you with a broad smile as you threw your drying towel into the ‘soiled linen’ bin by the door.

You went up towards the front with Ayra in tow, touching the other girls’ hands softly as you walked down the path they’d created with their bodies—stood with their backs against the walls—out of the way, and prepared for the hashira to make their entrance. The only exceptions were the babies.

“Of course, we made it, cherub,” you said, bending your body at the waist to kiss Sura’s forehead. The young girl—only five years of age—swooned as you gave her attention. While Sana—only two (and a half)—was content, as always, with the soft touch of your thumb caressing her cheek as you spoke to her sister. “What kind of head maiden would I be if I were late to welcome such prestigious guests?”

Your Mistress scoffed, popping your arm with her free hand before softly nudging Sura towards Sopheary—aged twelve—and lifting Sana into her arms to hand her off to Dorothea—nearly sixteen. “You’re nearly late all the time. Don’t be a smart ass,” she said, with an eye-roll for emphasis, “that’s Ayra’s job.”

An affronted gasp came from behind you. Ayra placed her hand on her chest, feigning pain at your Mistress’s words. “She wasn’t being clever, Mistress. She merely meant she takes her duties seriously. Besides, you said she’s nearly late, but when is she actually late?

You stifled your laugh as your Mistress glared at Ayra, though the minor skirmish didn’t last long before the crows began their song and dance again.

*caw caw caw*

“Ladies,” Nijimaru said, seemingly clearing his throat—if that was possible for a bird, “my lord Tengen has arrived. Please welcome him in your home for rest and recuperation.”

*caw caw, caw caw*

“My lord Kyojuro has also arrived. Take care of him well,” Manju said, bowing her head as the sound of voices traveled through the air from just beyond your home’s large wooden gate.

The chimes attached to the wooden posts supporting your fence made light noise as the hashira knocked on the wood, shaking them and alerting you further to their presence.

“Okay, girls,” your Mistress said, turning her head to address the group, “best behaviors. Be hospitable. Mind your manners. Got it?”

You all nodded, a hush falling over the room as your Mistress walked down the entrance steps towards the gate. As head maiden, it was your duty to follow, so you did—padding behind the woman with evenly paced steps to greet the two men. Their silhouettes were visible between the thin slits in the woven pattern of the gate’s upper half. Even though the black of the demon slayers’ outfits made their torsos nearly invisible in the night, you could easily make out the bright orange and red atop one of the men’s heads, and the white hair pulled up into a ponytail on the other.

The two men were speaking to each other in hushed voices as you reached the entrance, though they stopped once your Mistress opened it and poked half of her body through the small slit she made to get through, checking to ensure that the men were who they should have been. You moved to the side a bit, coming up behind your Mistress to peek through the gate at the two hashira. The sound hashira—you could assume—was in front, speaking to your Mistress in a soft voice as he asked for clearance to enter, while the flame hashira stood beside him observing much like you were with your Mistress.

You couldn’t get the best look at them, given the low light of the forest-shrouded outdoors, despite the lanterns hanging near the property’s boundary. Still, from what you could see of the mens’ profiles—and the sound hashira’s arms— you knew the rumors the market girls spread had merit.

Ayra is going to have a cow.

“Thank you for allowing us into your home. I’m Uzui Tengen, the sound hashira,” the man said, confirming your suspicions, “and this is my brother in arms—Rengoku Kyojuro, the flame hashira. Please, use our first names and titles.”

The flame hashira smiled brightly, flashing both rows of his teeth. “We’re grateful for your hospitality!” he said, his voice confident and a touch too loud in the silence of the night air.

You giggled softly once before catching yourself, bowing your head slightly as the sound drew both of the hashira’s eyes. You waited a beat before glancing up at the men through your curled lashes, only to see a small smirk on the sound hashira’s lips as he looked at you curiously, and the flame hashira tilted his head forward slightly to get a better look at you from behind the fence.

Your mistress chuckled, subtly stepping to her left to shield you from view—not visibly shaken by Kyojuro’s enthusiasm. “Thank you for trusting us with your safety,” your Mistress said, with a pleasant smile as she spoke. “To ensure ours, you will have to place your weapons in the armory hold for the night—not out of reach but not in hand either—and of course, no shoes in the home. That being said, do come in. There’s a chill coming in; we should get you both fed and bathed inside.”

The sound hashira’s jewels jangled as he nodded his head, glancing at the wisteria crest on the fence as your mistress opened it wide. The two men looked ahead, walking in through the gate and surveying their surroundings. The courtyard of your home was spacious, with a large pond filled with koi fish and surrounded by trees that’d grown large and flower-filled with age. The wisteria vines hung from the branches in abundance, while petals fell and painted the ground purple due to the late summer wind. The large circular stones set into the ground made a path. The line of stones led into the open doors in the front of the minka, much like the ones in the back that created pathways to the various other parts of the property. You smiled softly with pride as the men looked impressed.

Your Mistress stepped around them to walk in front, followed by you, with the men following closely behind you. Her walk exuded grace as she took paced steps up onto the engawa—the wrapped porch wreathed around the entire property—before following you into the home’s genkan. The girls were in the room just past the foyer, hidden from view by wide opaque sliding panels.

The hashira sat down their weapons to remove their shoes, balancing them against the shoji panels of the doors to slip into the larger black slippers you kept for the men.

“May I?” your Mistress asked, motioning toward their swords.

“Of course, we understand the rules well,” Kyojuro said, picking up his sword to hand it over to your Mistress with both hands.

She accepted it with equal respect, then handed the sword over to you, jutting her head towards the grand armory armoire fixed into the wall in the home’s entrance area. You bowed, walking over to the dresser to unlock it—turning the nob on the dresser backward and forward in a pattern to expose the layers of compartments for swords inside.

“I’ll hang your sword here on the left, Lord Kyojuro,” you said, placing the sword on a mounted rack instead of one of the lesser hanging racks on the armory’s bottom half. “Lord Tengen, may we take your sword as well?”

The hashira smiled softly at you, sharing a glance with his comrade before speaking. “Ah, so the maiden does have a voice after all,” he said, his almond-shaped eyes looking at you respectfully. “Of course, you may.” He readily handed over his dual-wielded swords, the beginning of something on his lips as your Mistress took the weapons from him. She moved on reflex, taking the blades from him without hearing the last of his words.

She huffed as they reached her hands, attempting to stifle the slight tremor in her arms as she held on to the blades by their long handles. “Can you carry these, love?” she said, the question more like a statement as she pushed the swords out towards you. “You have youth on your side, and a much stronger back.”

You nodded, quickly walking up to her side to take the swords—black with gold embellishments and huge—from her. A deep huff of breath left your lungs as well as you slung the heavy weapons—safe inside of their thick cloth bindings—over your shoulder. To say you were unprepared for their weight would be an understatement.

“Careful.” The sound hashira appeared behind you, moving so fast despite the small space that you hadn’t heard a sound. “It’d be a great injustice to the world if such a pretty maiden were to lose her hands by accident carrying my swords.”

He held on to you from behind, supporting your forearms with his hands to relieve most of the sword’s weight. The man’s stature was noticeable from a distance, but up close, you were forced to acknowledge how large he was; his hands, his chest against your back, his large cuffed arms cradling your own as he pushed you forward with his weight; nothing about him seemed to understand the word “small.”

He walked in tandem with you as you shuffled toward the armory armoire and didn’t let go until the swords were safely contained inside the holder on the interior wall of the large dresser. “There we go,” he sighed, his voice light. “I’ve always heard the mountains bred strong women. It looks like there’s some truth to that, huh, Kyojuro?”

The flame hashira nodded, a firm “mhm,” coming out clearly behind his closed lips. “Both of you have great strength. It’s admirable.”

You swallowed hard, lowering your eyes as the warmth rose beneath your skin from the rush of blood just below the rich brown pigment. You glanced up at your Mistress through your eyelashes and saw her bow her head, accepting the compliment sincerely.

“Now then, let’s get you two inside. You’ve had a long journey; I imagine you must be eager to unwind.”

The two men agreed, standing respectfully to one side as your Mistress opened the genkan entrance panels. Both you and your Mistress walked up a step, standing on either side of the entrance. The hashira walked into the room, pleasant surprise on their faces as the girls—you and your Mistress included—bowed and said your welcome in unison.

“Wow, an assembly welcome. How flashy!” Tengen said, smiling as he scanned his eyes around the room. “We weren’t aware this was a boarding house. How lucky for you to have the help, maiden.”

Your Mistress chuckled, relaxing out of her bow to walk down the hall's center. The other girls stood straight as your Mistress tapped their shoulders, allowing them to stand up.

You do not miss the ill-hidden shock on Ayra’s face as she finally got to look at the men—especially not when her wide eyes flickered over to meet yours.

“We are, more or less. These are my adopted children—all saved from hard lives in some way or another. Still, they do work because they respect our home, not as a condition to live here. I am also not a maiden, though I have done a poor job at introductions, so I can see how the assumption was made.”

You giggled softly, knowing the smug smile on your Mistress’s face came from the hashira’s subtle assertion that she looked much younger than she was.

She cleared her throat, turning to face the men as she stood between the lines of her girls. “I’m Arai Miya—the headmistress and matriarch of this bevy of young ladies. I’m also the current sole proprietor of the estate, as I’m no longer married, and I lost my biological family to demons long ago. My head maiden,” she said, motioning to you, “is the eldest and my firstborn—so to speak. Ayra here,” she said, gesturing to Ayra (whose mouth was slightly slack as she blinked faster than you’d seen in ages), “is the second eldest. She often helps with affairs just as our head girl does. They’ll be around most often to assist you throughout the night should you need any assistance—though I’ll always be close by should you need mine specifically.”

The men looked between you both, nodding their heads in acknowledgment towards you with soft eyes and upturned lips. Your Mistress named all the other girls quickly, getting through the line of eight girls quickly before ending with the youngest—one of which was practically vibrating as she smiled at the two strangers.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I hope you find the accommodations to your liking. We’re honored to have you both,” she said, bowing her head deeply again in respect.

Tengen nodded, though the flame hashira was the one to speak.

“We’re honored to stay in such a lovely home,” Kyojuro said, bending his upper body in a surprisingly deep bow before relaxing again. “Your family has been the talk of the slayer corps for nearly a year. So we were delighted to find that our recent expeditions were so close. Knowing we’d be staying here once our missions were complete was a driving force in getting the work done.”

If you hadn’t known better, you might have believed your eyes when you noticed the rosy pink blush flushing on your Mistress’s pale cheeks.

“Oh, you must have learned young that flattery will get you anywhere, at least with handsome faces like yours,” your Mistress said, a look of unwavering confidence on her petite features despite the obvious effect of the hashira’s words. “Well then, come you two. The girls have prepared a hearty feast and heated the baths for you. Once you’re prepared to turn in, you’ll be staying in the east wing of our guest home for privacy. We also have our private onsen. It’s just a few steps outside of the guesthouse doors. Feel free to take advantage of that at your leisure.”

The men nodded, saying their thanks.

“Would you prefer to eat first or take a dip in the baths?” Ayra asked, joining your Mistress in the middle of the aisle. “We have leisure yukata should you want to eat first and samue for after you bathe.”

In unison, the men said, “food,” eliciting a giggle from the girls.

“Perfect. Then, Prisha,” she whispered, drawing the girl’s attention, “and Lucía will take you both to get changed and bring you to the dining area afterward.”

They both nodded, rushing words of thanks as the two thirteen-year-olds whisked the men away towards the side of the home into a tatami room meant for changing.

The rest of you dispersed, the younger girls plopping down to sit in the home’s living area adjacent to the dining room while your Mistress went deeper into the house. Ayra looped her arm around yours as you headed into the kitchen, barely containing her squeals as you walked into the warm food preparation area.

“What the hell,” she said, safe alone with you in the room. “I owe Yuri my deepest apologies. I will never doubt her judgment of men again. Should I ever decide to embrace blind dating, I will go solely on her recommendations.”

You chuckled, pulling out your best plates and bowls and placing them onto gold trays lined with ruby red details that matched the flame hashira’s eyes. “They are handsome, aren’t they? I kept my expectations low to avoid any disappointment but… wow.”

Ayra scoffed, spooning soup on top of various types of meat and vegetables in large ceramic bowls while you placed cooked food onto plates.

“Wow, is an understatement, sister. I don’t think I’ve ever likened myself to the petty town girls who thrive off of spite and jealousy, but I may envy you to a dangerous degree after the night is over. God,” she said, a rough sigh coming from her throat, “I should have saved myself. Was that hinoe boy worth it? Well—admittedly, yes. He was wonderful. Am I still sad to be missing out on the hashira? Yes, yes, I am.”

You giggled, bumping her thigh with your hip as you arranged more plates. “You’re presumptuous in assuming they’ll even want to bed me. They’ve had a long week; they may be tired. Men are also capable of abstaining, you know.”

Ayra groaned, waving the words away with her hand. “Oh, please. I saw the way they both looked at you, sister, despite Mistress being the one speaking. You just don’t pay enough attention in the moments where you’re not being spoken to. Half of all flirtations occur when one isn’t paying it any mind.”

You sucked your teeth, muttering “whatever,” as you floated around the kitchen to grab spoons and chopsticks for the men to eat with. “Set aside a bowl or two for us,” you whispered, pinching Ayra’s backside as you walked back over to the plates.

As you packed the last bowl with rice, you heard the girls clambering to get onto their feet, their low murmurs audible to your ears as they greeted the men who’d walked into the room. You peeked your head out to look into the dining room, only to see the hashira being guided to sit down at the large main table by Yua—age eleven—while the other girls stood to the side with bated breath as the men took their seats.

“Can you finish these?” you asked Ayra, taking her quick “yup,” in stride as you dried your hands and went out into the main room, taking the starter dishes you could carry on your own.

Your Mistress returned then, instructing Himari and Dorothea to assist Ayra in the kitchen with the rest of the food.

You approached the two men, being careful with the bowls of hot soup as you kneeled to place them down gently, along with two heaping bowls of white rice.

“Were you a barmaid before you moved into this home?” Kyojuro said, sliding the full soup bowl closer without spilling a drop. “You have exceptional balance, and very flexible wrists.”

You looked down at your own hands, having never gotten such a comment on such an inconsequential feature of your body. “Oh—well, no, I wasn’t, but thank you,” you said, a small huff of laughter accompanying your words. “I’ve lived here since I was a small child. I’ve learned how to care for guests well from my Mistress.”

You glanced over at your Mistress who was watching you fondly, rubbing Sana’s dark brown curls as the sleepy toddler cuddled against her side.

“That’s lovely—how she looks at you with pride,” Tengen said, a soft smile on his face as he tucked into his rice.

You smiled, averting your eyes from the men’s heavy gazes, then jumped, slightly startled as Ayra's voice carried loudly from the kitchen.

“Coming through!” Ayra said, announcing her exit as she walked out of the kitchen with the other two girls close behind—all carrying a tray or two filled with food.

The girls laid out the spread easily, having done it more times than you could ever hope to count. The distraction came at the perfect time, as the hashira’s eyes were drawn to the various food dishes instead of you. Their eyes grew wide as they looked down at their meal, and they wasted no time scarfing down this and that with muttered exclamations peppered between their bites.

Your Mistress eyed the group of girls, then the men—visibly satisfied that the hashira liked their meal. “If you’re settled, then we’ll leave you to your dinner. We’ve encroached on your peace for long enough.”

Sura detached herself from Sopheary’s side, soft whines spilling from her lips as she ran up to your Mistress.

“But, Mama,” the girl said, a prominent pout on her delicate features. “What about our gifts?”

Your Mistress sighed, hushing her tone to talk to the child.

“Can it wait until morning, lovely? I imagine they want to eat and rest.”

Sura pouted harder, her bottom lip quivering as if she meant to cry—though no actual tears were coming out.

“It’s no bother,” Tengen said, though he hadn’t looked like he’d been listening to their conversation. “We always have time for a gift, especially when such sweet little hands give them.”

Your Mistress relented, lightly pushing both Sura and Sana—who looked shaken to be moving closer to the men—forward, the two girls holding hands.

“You’re Sura, correct?” Tengen asked, his eyes soft as he looked down at the children, still multiple feet taller than both of them even while he was sitting down.

She nodded her head, a cheesy smile on her face as she attempted to maintain eye contact with the man. “This is my baby sister Sana. She has a talisman for you,” she said, her voice easily heard despite her shyly contained confidence.

A smile bloomed on Tengen’s face as he looked down at Sana, holding out his hands in wait for his gift. Perhaps it was merely because the man was so large, or maybe crushes developed earlier than you once thought, but Sana cowered even more than usual behind her sister as both of the hashira’s attention was drawn to her.

Tengen’s face softened even more at the child as he noticed her body shuffling farther away from him. He made himself smaller—turning away from his food to face her then leaning forward to rest his weight on his elbows, putting himself closer to the child’s eye level. “May I see your gift?” he said lightly, extending his cupped hands out in front of Sana directly.

Sana broke her eye contact with the man to look over at you, her big onyx-colored eyes round as saucers as she grabbed onto her sister’s dress.

“It’s okay,” you said, whispering the words as you nodded your head towards the man. “You’re a brave girl, Sana. You can do it,” you said, supported with small cheers for the child from your housemates.

Since your Mistress had taken both Sana and Sura in less than a year ago, the younger of the two was still remarkably shy—but you were slowly but surely working on chipping down her walls. It was a stark contrast to her sister Sura, who was so friendly to every person she ever met that you constantly warned her of strangers who would wish to take her away, just to avoid having her walk off with someone foreign. All of your girls were somewhere on the spectrum between the two youngest’s temperaments—some having been rescued from brothels, while others were meant to be sold off as property from poor parents who couldn’t care for them well. A few were merely saved from poor orphanages, like you, but you all came from different backgrounds and walks of life, and seeing each other be as well-rounded and happy as possible was your Mistress’s ultimate goal.

With your support, the tiny child flicked her eyes up towards Kyojuro, then Tengen, and after a moment of contemplation… she pushed herself forward, sprinting at the two men as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. The distance was very short, but she managed to skid to a halt before running into Tengen’s hands. Still, her coordination with her own hands was new. It thus wasn’t great, so when she (slowly) pulled the small omamori talisman out from the gigantic pocket in the lining of her kimono’s obi, she nearly dropped them. However, the sound hashira caught them so quickly they didn’t even have time to descend towards the floor.

“Wow,” the man said, turning the two brightly-colored shiawase talismans over in his hand, pleased to see that the prayers were full of “happiness” energy. “These are flashy indeed. You have great decorating skills, little one. You could be an artist.”

Tengen handed one of the packages over to Kyojuro—who’d moved by the other man’s side to sit with his legs crossed. The sunset-haired man’s smile grew wider as he bowed his head towards the child.

“These remind me of the talismans my little brother would have our father buy during the autumn festivals,” he said, his voice notably soft. “I will carry it on my person always.”

Sura practically beamed with excitement as she reached her hand down into her obi, fishing out two more omamori that differed significantly in color from the ones you had helped Sana make. “I made some too!” she said, a smile so big on her face that it crinkled her eyes. “Sana’s charms are for happiness, but mine are kaiun—for luck! It’s gold, like your hair.”

Kyojuro chuckled, taking the talisman from the girl and holding it up next to his head. “I think it’s a perfect match. Perhaps I will tie it into my ponytail from now on.”

That drew a laugh from the group, even your Mistress, before the hashira placed their talisman inside their yukata’s pockets.

“Wow. We thought we saw angels frolicking in the waters around the edge of your woods, but it looks like they live inside your home as well,” he said, his eyes finding yours for a moment as he turned back towards his food. “Thank you for your good fortune, little ones. We need all that we can get.”

Your Mistress smiled, beckoning the children towards her with her hand as Tengen lightly rubbed their heads. Sura beamed as she ran back to your Mistress, while Sana—surprisingly—ignored her, walking between the two hashira, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Thank you for indulging them,” your Mistress said, scooping Sura into her arms. “Now then, girls—”

“Oh?” Tengen said, glancing down at Sana with a knowing smile on his lips. “I can hear someone’s tummy rumbling. Why don’t you all join us for dinner? There’s more than enough space for all of us.”

The girls giggled, lightly teasing Sana for trying to be mischievous.

“Well,” your Mistress said, the intent to decline already evident in her eyes, “we couldn’t possibly. The younger ones have eaten already, twice—for good measure—and this hungry one here is still taking milk from the neighbor’s wet nurse, along with peaches and rice. She can’t handle a pallet quite this large yet, but I do thank you for your kindness.”

The men nodded before the sound hashira looked over to where you stood beside Ayra near the kitchen’s entrance.

“Understood,” Tengen said, his maroon-colored eyes so deep and dazzling. “What about your eldest girls then? This one’s stomach is louder than the child’s,” he said, motioning towards you, “and her friend here has been inching closer and closer to the kitchen the longer we’ve spoken. But, of course, they’re welcome to eat; I’m sure they worked up an appetite preparing for our visit.”

You shrunk in on yourself, half hiding your face with your curls as Ayra stifled her laughter.

“Ah, well,” your Mistress hesitated, approaching the men to scoop Sana up with her other arm. “We typically eat in our quarters, but if you insist….”

“We insist,” Tengen said, eyeing both you and Ayra. “We’ve had no other company for over a week. So we welcome the opportunity to hear voices besides our own—or the crows. These two seem to talk quite a bit. They’ll make lovely company, if they’d like to eat with us.”

Ayra answered for you, a quick “yes, sure we would,” coming from her lips before you had the mind to answer.

Your Mistress nodded, ushering the girls into your communal space on the other end of the house. “Just yell if you need me.”

And with that, she was gone, and you were alone with the hashira.

tyty for reading! i hope you guys are liking this series (that was originally just supposed to be a smut oneshot but i digress) 💛 speaking of smut... it starts next chapter woohoo || crossposted on ao3 — here || get added to my taglist — here || tags: @bokuroskitten​ @rosesandtoshi @murdereddaydreams​ @crystal-lilac​ @mxgenderbender

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (14/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Leaving is the only option - right?

Warnings: angst, blood (but not much), break up, drug addiction (mentioned), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: hello lovies. I'm back and my mind is full of ideas! I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous chapter

You watch the coffee in your cup as if it has all the answers for the future hidden in the caffeine. It's eight o'clock in the morning, and this is already your third cup of the sacred liquid, and you're sure it won't be your last. The shadows under your eyes are a sign of your nightmares that haunted you last night. The fact that you have them doesn't bother you, after all, you've been going through the procedure for months. What bothers you is the fact that you couldn't wake yourself up this time. You've gotten in the habit of pinching yourself when it would get too painful, but something stopped you last night. And the fact that you don't know what exactly bothers you the most.

"Y/N." Emily's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you have to tear your gaze away from your coffee. "What do you think?"

All eyes are on you and out of nervousness you'd like to slide around in your chair, but suppress the urge. You haven't been listening for the last few minutes, too busy with your own thoughts and problems that you can't answer her. The case is supposed to be your last, and you're trying hard to enjoy it and value the time with your friends, but really you're just waiting for it all to be over. Most of all, you want to pack your things and leave.

You barely noticeably shake your head for Emily to continue, and turn your attention back to your coffee, which must be cold by now, but that doesn't stop you from drinking it down to the last drop. Without saying anything, you get up from your chair to get another one, paying no attention to Emily's annoyed look. As you fill your cup in the precinct kitchen, she stands right next to you.

"You're not being very helpful, Y/N," she says coolly as you take a sip. You know her manner is all pretense, because in reality she's incredibly concerned. She only needs to look at your face once to know what's going on in your head, but she doesn't address it. She knows you'll talk to her when the time is right. But you're not sure that will ever happen. "I've already assigned the tasks. You stay here and work with Spencer to gather all the important information that may be relevant to Penelope's research." The look on your face says it all. You don't want to spend any time with Spencer, and certainly not alone, but Emily gives you no choice. Before you can say anything back, she disappears out the door with the others.

With your coffee, which you now wish had a strong shot of vodka in it, you make your way back into the conference room, where Spencer is bent over the table, passing pictures and notes back and forth. You stop in the doorway and watch him for a brief moment, and only then do you notice the narrow, red scratch on his face that stretches from his cheek to his neck. You squint your eyes. It hadn't been there yesterday after all.

"What happened?“, you ask as casually as you can as you sit down and set your cup down on the table. As Spencer looks at you questioningly, you point to his face. "Looks bad." Indeed it does, though it's just a scratch. There's bloody crust in a few places, contrasting in color with his pale skin. Something really got to him.

"Cut myself shaving“, he replies curtly, glancing again at the pictures in front of him. You haven't seen him in two years, don't actually remember who he is exactly, but you still know when he's lying. And when to stop asking and let it go. When Penelope calls, you discuss some stuff and you see Spencer scratching over the wound until it bleeds, which he doesn't seem to notice, which is why you stall Penelope on the phone and grab his hand as soon as the line goes silent. Astonished, he looks at you before looking at his fingers.

"Come with me“, you say briefly and don't even wait for him to follow you. You approach an officer and ask for a first aid kit, which is immediately made available to you. Spencer follows you uncertainly into one of the washrooms, where you already put on the disposable gloves from the box - you don't want any bacteria to get on the wound - and wet a towel from the towel dispenser. Reluctantly, Spencer leans against one of the sinks, waiting for your instructions.

"Tilt your head to the side a little, please." You take the damp cloth and gently dab along the scratch to remove the dried blood. Spencer has to swallow at the touch and you see his Adam's apple bob, and really it shouldn't be that attractive, unfortunately it is anyway. You have to concentrate because this is the closest you've been to him in years. You breathe in his scent, feel his warmth through your gloves, and can barely stifle a deep breath.

"How do you know how to do that?“, he asks softly as you disinfect the wound, and Spencer has to pull himself together to keep from reacting to the burning from the alcohol.

You look at him briefly before turning your attention back to the scratch. „Experience“, you reply, spreading some wound healing ointment over it before taking off your gloves and disposing of everything in the trash can. You then put the first aid kit back together. As you turn around, Spencer is standing right in front of you.

"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares“, he whispers, and confused, you look at him. There's concern in his gaze, and if you're not mistaken, a little affection too, but you push the thought aside, not letting yourself have hope. Hope has only harmed you lately you have not moved forward a bit.

You look once more at the scratch, and then into his warm eyes. "You didn't cut yourself shaving“, you count one and one together and clench your jaws. He doesn't need to answer. You did this to him, you just don't remember. The reason you didn't wake up is Spencer. He was probably holding you, reassuring you so much that your body turned off its protective mechanism. It had certainly been the last time he did that, and you hadn't been awake to enjoy it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?“, he asks, wanting to reach for your hand, but you take a step back. You don't want him to touch you. You'd prefer it if you weren't in this situation at all. You'd prefer that you hadn't come back at all. None of this should have ever happened.

"It's none of your business anymore, Spencer." Your tone is cool and something in his face changes.

"I thought we were friends."

You have to suppress a laugh. Two years ago, you could have lived well with being friends with him. You were prepared for it then, wished it on him, and meant it sincerely. Only lately you've been through so much that you can't even imagine it anymore. The two years had been hell, but you are sure that you can't live next to him without being able to be with him. You can't watch him and Max be happy together, and even though his happiness is everything you want, you'd rather he be happy with you. But you can't tell him that, it would be unfair and selfish. So you just look at him.

Then you reach for the small suitcase and push past him towards the exit.

-

You're glad when the case is over and you arrive back at Quantico. It's been a week since you and Spencer spoke, and luckily for you, you've continued to be spared nightmares, for which you're quite grateful. Not that Spencer is going to join you in bed one more time to calm you down.

As you walk from the airfield back to the building, you fall back a bit, watching the team joke and laugh with each other despite their fatigue. Most of all, you'd like to leave right now without saying goodbye. Rip off the band-aid, without anesthesia. Short and painless. But your plan is foiled when Emily suddenly walks up beside you and puts a hand on your arm.

"We're going for a drink." She raises an eyebrow expectantly. Apparently she's waiting for you to decline the invitation, and all too gladly you'd like to meet her expectations, but it's almost certainly the last night you'll see each other, at least for an extended period of time, and short and painless wouldn't be fair to her - your best friend.

You smile at her. "You're paying for the first round."

Her eyes widen in delight, but before she can say anything back, Luke, who has overheard your conversation, interferes. "We're going out for drinks?" A grin spreads across his face, almost reaching his ears, and suddenly the rest of the team pricks up their ears. Luke's gaze is fixed on you. "I bet I can drink you under the table by now, Y/N."

„You can’t“, Matt replies, and you see Rossi smile to himself. "Last time you did that, you almost passed out after four shots."

"JJ got the drinks. Maybe she mixed something in“, Luke tries to defend himself, but the blonde raises her hands.

"I'm not responsible for your kindergarten drinking. But I'd love to see you try to drink Y/N under the table." She smiles at you and winks, and you can't help but grin. It feels good to know that all is well between you and the team, even though they know with a high probability that you won't be staying. You'd understand if they were mad at you, but that doesn't seem to be the case. JJ looks at Spencer, who is being less than forthcoming. "You coming, Spence?"

He risks a quick glance in your direction before adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows this will be your last night. And that you won't see each other again after this. "I think I'll sit this one out“, he replies curtly, but JJ nudges him and he gives her a dirty look.

"You can't avoid it, Spence."

You'd rather he'd gone home.

The first drinks are on Emily, as promised, and the ones after that are on Rossi, and it's actually not long before Luke is sitting at the table with a glass of water, wishing he'd slowed down. You grin at him from the dance floor where JJ and you are swinging your hips, and he sticks his tongue out at you before putting his head in his hands and sipping water through the straw in his glass.

JJ reaches for your hand and pulls you close before wrapping her arms around your neck. "I'm going to miss you“, she almost yells so you can hear her over the loud music. You smile weakly at her. There's a glint in her eyes, probably from the alcohol, and only now do you realize how much you're really going to miss her.

"I'm going to miss you too“, you reply, risking a quick glance in Spencer's direction. He's sitting next to Luke, looking completely out of place. You look back to JJ and without further ado, she puts her hands to your cheeks and presses a kiss to your mouth. When she pulls away from you again, she just grins at you. "What was that for?"

"I want you to know that we love you. We all do. Remember that when you're lonely, and call if you need anything. You are and always will be a part of our weird family."

You wait a brief moment before pulling away from her and disappearing into the ladies' room. As soon as the door slams shut, tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from breaking down. You were aware of how much the others would miss you, but hearing it from JJ only makes it more real. By leaving, you're not only leaving Spencer behind, but everyone else as well, and that's so selfish of you that bile rises inside you and you almost throw up. You wish you hadn't had those last two drinks.

"Y/N?" You don't have to turn around to know it's Spencer. You recognized his voice and can see him in the mirror above the sink.He's standing behind you, unsure of what exactly to do, which is why he buries his hands in his pants pockets and looks at you silently.

You wipe the smeared mascara from under your eyes before turning and leaning against the basin. "This is the ladies' room, Spencer. You're not supposed to be in here.“

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be“, he replies, but doesn't move from the spot. He watches you brush your hair out of your forehead and wipe at your hot face to get rid of the tears. "You don't have to go. You know that, right?"

You look up from your shoes, straight into his eyes. "Yes, I do."

You want to leave the washroom, but his fingers curl around your arm, holding you back. "Y/N ..."

"I can't stay, Spencer. I can't look at you without knowing that someone other than me is waiting for you at home. I can't watch you be happy without me. It's okay, really. It's just that I don't have the strength to watch it anymore." The words just bubble out of you, and for some reason you can't stop. But it feels good to say it out loud, even though you certainly shouldn't. "I love you, Spencer. I'll always love you. But I'm at the end of my rope." You shrug in exasperation. "I have to think about me. I can only think about me." Spencer's face contorts painfully, but you can't stop. "To think that you're about to go to Max's and do God knows what ..." You shake your head, as if it might drive the thoughts from your mind. "I feel like I - I - I can't breathe. Like I'm going to die. And I just can't take it anymore."

Spencer's hand comes away from your arm at your honesty, but only to grab your hand and pull you against him. You bounce against his chest, wanting to pull away, but he holds you tight and presses you to him with his other hand. Carefully, he places his palm against your cheek and gently strokes your skin with his thumb. "Please, don't go."

You look into his eyes, which have filled with tears. "Why not?"

You can practically see him struggling with himself. He wants to say something, but can't find the right words, so he presses his lips together and lets his forehead sink against yours. All he has to do is say it, and you'd throw all your plans out the window and stick around. Just a few words. But he doesn't say them. "I can't ..."

You take a deep breath before pulling away from him, disappointed. „Goodbye“, you whisper, before leaving him alone in the washroom.

-

Spencer sits uncertainly at the kitchen table, watching the tea bag with lemon balm in the cup in front of him. He doesn't actually like lemon balm, but he needs something to calm his nerves and get the trembling of his hands under control as he sits there searching for the right words.

The last time he had felt this helpless, Emily had just left his apartment and he had been about to make some phone calls. The first call would have been to a man who would have given him a different number. The second phone call would have been to a woman who would have transferred him. And the third number belonged to someone who would have given him what he was only too happy to get.

Many years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never resort to it again. That he wouldn't need it. He would be stronger than the desire to feel nothing more. The only thing that had stopped him was that you would never wish that for him. That you had helped him then, had stood by him. He didn't want it to be in vain.

Spencer hates feeling so helpless, even though he actually knows exactly what he has to do now. That's why he sits in the kitchen in the middle of the night, cup of calming tea in hand, not daring to look at the woman sitting across from him. But he doesn't need to say anything either. She knows why he was at her door at such a late hour. They sit in silence, neither quite knowing what to do. Neither of them has been in this situation before. Spencer is glad she's the first to speak.

"So that's it." It's more of a statement than a question. Spencer nods silently, whereupon she purses her lips. "Because of her?"

Spencer looks up from his cup and looks directly at Max. Then he shakes his head. "No, not because of her."

She raises an eyebrow. "But what? Don't you dare give me that 'it's not you, it's me' tour. I've heard that one before."

Spencer has to think for a moment, find the right words, before he answers. "I've lost her so many times. I wouldn't survive it another time."

The two have known each other long enough. Max knows he's not exaggerating or meaning it metaphorically. He has told her about his addiction, and she had been very grateful at the time that he was so honest with her, even though they hadn't known each other long. Spencer knows that all of this is not healthy and psychologically quite far from reasonable and Maxine knows what she has gotten herself into. But no one could have guessed that it would end this way.

"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and raspy. He stands up and makes his way toward the apartment door.

"I hope you make it." There's so much honesty in her voice that Spencer has to smile sadly over his shoulder.Maxine doesn't deserve this. None of you deserve this.

The walk to Emily's apartment is short, but to Spencer it feels like an eternity. The train is late, which is why he actually starts running, afraid of missing his chance. He runs until his lungs are burning and his bag is banging painfully against his ribs.The few people left on the streets look at him askance, but he doesn't care. He's panting, barely getting his breath and wishing he was a little more athletic, but as he sprints around the next corner he can already see the building where Emily's apartment is located.

For a brief moment he considers taking a break, catching his breath, but he can't wait another second. Hopefully he's not too late.

He's not surprised that he can just walk into the building, even though he doesn't have a key. He sprints up the stairs, and runs down the hallways until he's gasping for breath and standing in front of the right door, his head high. He bangs on the door with a clenched fist, hoping it will open and he won't be too late. He can't be late. He can't be late.

Finally, the door opens, and for the first time in years, he can take a real breath.

"Y/N."

- taglist closed -

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[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[thera-daydreams]

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie