#thank you for the ask oatmeal friend

[warcats-cat]

*materializes into existence*

Hey, my wonderful moot :D

(if this is a duplicate, ignore it; wifi is picky, so idk if it sent already or nah)

I heard you felt lonely, so I got summoned cause I am your MOOT and I care goddamnit. All the affections for you (/p).

I saw ya like FNAF (specifically Sun & Moon's lines in Help Wanted 2), so: what was your fav lines from the Daycare Jesters? I call them that cause, ya know, the sillies.

Also: I don't remember well, but I think you also like Sanders Sides (correct me if I'm wrong). If ya do, have you seen the newest Asides? If so, I wanna hear about your fav parts. The funnies, the 'lore' (angst) parts, any sort of theories, or even just gushing about your fav pairings or characters.

Infodump about whatever!! I love hearing ya thoughts on things and such <3

Lastly: moths. I fuckin love moths. And tardigrades. And spiders and beetles and- okay, so I just really love bugs and insects.

✨moths✨

Anyway, have a good day and hope this helps the loneliness not be so lonely :D

Hewwo Oatmeal Friend! I love you too 💜💜

I have to say my favorite lines are the new lines for Sun's arts and crafts section because they're straight up hilarious. "I should turn the lights off myself" killed me. Someone please give this robot some Prozac and a teddy bear.

My interest in FNAF Sun/Moon is kinda the fault of Bamsara (who I won't tag because I'm not cool enough to interact with them) who has a fanfic called Solar Lunacy which is *chefs kiss* really fulfills my shameless need for x Reader content 💜 ((seriously if I could find familial TS Patton x Reader content I would print it out and hang it on my wall))

Yes the robojesters are very silly and I have to say I'm seeing the FNAF fandom leaning on the head canon that they may have not originally been child-care robots, but on-stage actors, and we're just given child-care programming later which makes me 👀 I love them being doting kiddo caretakers but also the idea of a dedicated thespian being throwing into a pile of wailing children and told to figure it out is absolutely hilarious to me.

Also yes!! I love me some Sanders Sides!! Love my boys. No one is surprised but Patton's bit with the tinier and tinier boxes absolutely was my favorite part. My parents did that when I was like ten and it started off with this GIANT box and I think there were at least six I had to go through before I found a plush of Snoopy and tickets to go to Camp Snoopy at Knott's Farm (forever salty that it was bought by Nickelodeon). I still have that plushy somewhere in my room 💜 and entire book of pressed pennies from Camp Snoopy.

Anyway I actually genuinely enjoyed the new Asides! I miss so much the original format of videos that were one-off and shorter, the conflict being self-contained and generally light hearted. And the interaction between Logan and Virgil was so adorable 💜

Tell me about moths 👀 I love moths and butterflies and BEES😍 (I'm lame, my favorites are the Lunar moth and the Rosey Maple moth. My fairy-sona's outfit is themed to a crossover of the two, though it was more lunar moth like when I first put it together. It's evolved a lot over the years.) Spiders and I have a love-hate relationship rn; the fuzzy ones make me want to cry (pos) and the spindly ones make me want to cry (neg). There's a colony of tiny spindly ladies living in my basement bathroom that I don't know how they got there and I don't know how they keep reproducing because there are no bugs down there.

I don't know what a tardigrade is .....

[birchbow]

Thank you for PoF it literally rewired my brain a normal amount eons ago when I first read it. Every time I make a new character for anything and I start to worry maybe they're just a little too unhinged, I remember PoF, and know that I'm valid and so are my insane little horny characters 😌❤️

I am so excited that you say this because it's important to my heart! Insane little characters with strong wild opinions or reckless horniness or huge blind spots or weird personality quirks or frequent fuckups they often learn very little from are the heart of stories that keep my interest and provoke reaction from me as a reader!!!!

Let every character be a character!! I have never been more bored as a fanfiction reader than the other day, when I read a fic where only the villains were allowed to be rude or irrational or petty or angry without immediately apologizing in uniformly articulate and modern "I've learned what people are supposed to say in apologies" speak. Because they're a Main Character! They're a Good Guy! But sometimes good guys and main characters are going to fuck up!! Sometimes they're going to be bizarre! Sometimes they're going to be at odds with other characters who are Good Guy Main Characters, over things that may or may not be a big deal for their characters!

Listen!! Sometimes I write a character talking shit and I'm wincing the whole time, not just because they're being an asshole, but because I know they're going to double down on it later! Because they just,,, don't think or feel the same things as the person they're being an asshole to! Do I the author agree with one more? Probably! Do I necessarily have to resolve "and this one was right, so the other one apologized"? No! Characters conflict with the other characters! It's uncomfortable to write sometimes! But my level of comfort or discomfort with the uncomfortable is part of writing stories where THINGS HAPPEN and goddammit I am out here for things happening otherwise what is even the point. >8U

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number

Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.

He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.

Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.

That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.

Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.

Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.

"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.

There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.

"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.

"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.

His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.

"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."

"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.

"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"

Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.

He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.

"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.

In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."

"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.

"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"

Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-

"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.

"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.

"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.

After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.

The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.

He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.

Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.

Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.

He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.

He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.

Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.

Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.

Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"

God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?

(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.

He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.

Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 3. the accident

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel spend some time getting to know each other, but during dinner with Tommy and Maria, the truth comes out about your accident.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, mild description of head wound/stitches, flirting, clickers, violence and some descriptions of injuries/blood

WC: 10.4K

Series Masterlist

Two Weeks Later

"This place is a lot bigger than I thought. I feel like I see someone new every day."

"Well, your brain did a factory reset, so you kind of are seeing new people every day," Ellie joked at breakfast one morning. Joel had been scheduled on early morning patrol shifts lately, so it was just the two of you before Ellie's classes started. You felt bad, but you grew to enjoy these mornings with just her. She was easy to get along with and she didn't pester you constantly about your memory loss. It was like she just accepted it for what it was and moved on. Joel, on the other hand, was a different story.

"What are you doing today?" she asked, pushing away her bowl of oatmeal.

"I have to go get these stitches removed," you said, your fingers coming up to brush across your injured scalp. "Couldn't come any sooner. They are so itchy."

She hummed and crossed her arms. "Surprised Joel didn't wanna come with you. He's been hovering over you non-stop."

"Yeah, tell me about it," you muttered. When you caught the playful glean in her eye, you backtracked. "Not that I don't appreciate everything he's done for me, it's just..." you trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"It's just a lot?" she offered, and you nodded, relieved that she understood.

"I didn't exactly tell him, either," you said, dropping your gaze to pick at your cuticle in shame. "Every time I go to the clinic, he scares the shit out of that poor doctor."

She laughed softly and stretched her arms out behind her head. "Joel does that to people. He comes off like a pitbull but in reality? He's just a golden retriever."

A slow smile stretched across your face as you absorbed her words, then burst out laughing.

"That is-" you began, cutting yourself off with another laugh, "the most accurate description I could ever possibly think of."

"I've known him for a long time, what can I say?" she said with a grin while throwing her hands up in the air.

Your laughter died down as you stared at the table, lost in thought. Glancing up at Ellie, you decided to see what else she might shed some light on.

"Do you know of a Ben and Lisa?"

She froze and looked at you quizzically for a moment before dropping her hands back down onto the table.

"Yeah, do you remember them?"

"No, no," you said quickly, waving her off. "I kept a journal. Y'know, from before. And I was reading it the other day and I mentioned them. Are they around?"

Ellie glanced around the somewhat crowded room before meeting your eyes again. "No, not today. They don't really come out much," she said, examining you carefully. "They have a small house on the outskirts of town. They are... homebodies, I guess? I think they've been in here, like, twice, since you guys arrived."

"So, they came here with me?" you confirmed, and she nodded.

"Yeah, the three of you arrived together," she said. Her eyes glanced up and saw a few classmates heading out the front door. "I better go, school's starting soon," she said, pushing her chair back and grabbing her backpack.

"Yeah, okay," you said, sitting back in your chair. "Thanks, Ellie," you called after her, and she shot you a quick wave before running to catch up with her friends.

You wished you had more time to ask her about Ben and Lisa. Were they together? Were they siblings? Friends? How did you meet them? What did they know about your past?

The questions were piling up as you let your mind wander. You didn't even realize Maria, Tommy's wife, had approached your table until she said your name for the second time.

"Sorry," you told her, shaking your head.

She smiled and pulled out a chair, joining you at your now empty table. "Don't worry about it. I wanted to check on you. How have you been feeling?"

"Better," you said honestly. "I haven't needed the Tylenol really, so I'm going to bring the rest back to Nick this morning."

"That's fantastic," she said, leaning forward. She regarded you quietly for a moment before speaking again. "Any luck on your memories?"

You sighed and shook your head. It was inevitable - everyone eventually asked you the same question, either morbid curiosity or genuine concern encouraging them. And you tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But you couldn't help but feel like a failure every time when the answer was no.

And then Maria asked the next question everybody always asked.

"How's Joel handling everything?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Of course this was hard for him. It was hard for you, too, just in a different way.

"Alright, I guess."

"Are you two getting along? I know Tommy mentioned you were nervous-"

"Yeah," you said, cutting her off. "It was a little weird at first but it's not so bad now." You glanced around the dining hall, which was mostly empty. "Can you tell me a little bit about him? About us? I would ask Joel, but any time he tells me about some memory, I can see it hurts him. And I just can't stand to see that look in his eye again."

Maria gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your hand. "I get it. It must be hard, I'm so sorry," she said, and you could feel the tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes.

"I just feel like I'm always letting him down," you said, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"You're not. Hey, look at me," she said, forcing you to drag your eyes up to meet hers. "You're not letting him down. He loves you. You have no idea how much. That man has been head over heels since the moment you met. He'd do anything for you-"

"I know, and that's what makes this so much worse!" you exclaimed. "I'm sitting around that house all day - our house - waiting for my brain to fucking work and give him the person he's waiting for and I just can't! I can't-" you slammed your palms flat on the table. "I can't fucking-" you buried your face in your hands as you tried to conceal your tears. Maria rubbed soothing circles on your back, giving you time to collect yourself.

"Sounds to me like you're going a little stir-crazy."

You dragged a shaky breath in and nodded, letting your hands fall to your lap.

"What if we got you assigned some work around town? Something light, nothing too strenuous. Would that help?" she asked softly, and your pulse began to return to normal.

"Yeah, I think that would be nice," you said, flashing her a small smile.

"Your choice, then," she said, pulling her hand back, "what are you good at or interested in? I figure stables are probably not a good idea. Tommy said you were having trouble riding. Is there anything you'd like to do?"

You pursed your lips and thought for a moment.

"I'm not sure... can I get back to you?" you asked, realizing once again that you knew very little about yourself.

"Of course," Maria said before standing up from her chair. "You know where to find me whenever you think of something. Or if you just want to talk... I'm here, okay?"

You gave her a watery smile before whispering your thanks, then watched her make her way towards the doors. You sighed and looked around, realizing you were the only one left after the breakfast rush, so you pushed yourself to your feet and followed Maria's footsteps. You had a few more hours before Joel was supposed to come back from patrol, so you decided to walk over to the infirmary and get your stitches removed.

The streets of Jackson were mercifully quiet. Most people were working and the kids were in school, so you didn't run into too many folks on your way towards the other end of town. You wrapped your arms around yourself a little tighter. The chill in the air still lingered from overnight, making you shiver. As you walked, you looked around at the buildings like you normally did, trying your hardest to shake loose a memory, or at this point, even a flicker of a moment, but nothing came.

You trudged up the steps to the infirmary and stepped inside, grateful to be back indoors where it was warm. A little bell rang above your head, announcing your presence, and a moment later you heard Nick's footsteps coming down the hallway. When he lifted his head and saw you, his eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for Joel.

"All alone today?" he asked, then motioned for you to follow him.

"Yeah, Joel's busy," you said, and you swore you could see his shoulders relax.

"I know the feeling," he said, standing next to an empty exam room and holding his arm out to his side, inviting you to enter first, so you did. "I've been trying to get around to doing inventory for weeks, but I'm swamped. Can't seem to find a quiet day," he continued as he opened and closed some cabinets. He pulled on a pair of gloves and opened a drawer for some scissors before placing it on a clean washcloth next to the bed and putting his glasses on.

"Oh, speaking of inventory," you said, leaning to the side so you could fish the pills out of your jeans pocket. You held them out to him with a smile. "Didn't need them all."

"Excellent. Thank you," he said, plucking the baggie from your fingers and setting them down on the counter next to the scissors. "Glad they helped. And again, I'm sorry I couldn't offer anything stronger-"

"Don't be sorry, I understand," you said, then tucked your chin into your chest so he could get a good look at the back of your head. He began to carefully snip away at the irritating thread, taking his time to pull each and every piece out without tugging too much on your skin. You noticed aside from the two of you, the office sounded quiet.

"All alone today, too?" you asked.

"Yes, unfortunately," he said with a sigh. "My aide, Monica, got poached from me. They needed someone on patrol since-" he cut himself off and cleared his throat, and you frowned before you realized what he was about to say.

"Since they had to replace me," you finished for him.

"Yes."

Your lips pressed into a thin line as Nick continued to work away at your stitches. Another casualty in the hurricane that your accident seemed to cause.

"Hey, what if I helped you?" you blurted out, and his hands paused.

"You want to be my aide?"

"Sure. Well, do I need any medical knowledge? I don't know much, but I can help you with inventory or cleaning instruments or... whatever else you might need."

You could sense his hesitation without even having to see his face and you knew in an instant he was thinking about Joel.

"Maria approached me this morning about a job. She said it would be good for me and I agreed. But if I'm not qualified, I understand-"

"No, no, it's not that," he said, and you rolled your eyes. Of course not.

"Joel isn't the boss of me," you said after a moment. He stepped backwards and you lifted your head up to look at him.

"He's an intimidating man," Nick said by way of explanation. He snapped his gloves off and tossing them in the trash. "Why don't you run it by him first? As a favor to me?" he added with a half smile. You sighed and nodded before sliding off the bed.

"Sure, I'll talk to him when he gets back," you agreed, following Nick towards the front door. You thanked him before heading back down the street, your fingers gingerly tracing your closed wound before you shoved your hands into your pockets.

How the hell could one man manage to scare half the town the way Joel Miller did? You thought you were beginning to see a glimmer of the man underneath the hardened exterior, but what on earth drew you to him in the first place? What did your past self see in him that made you so enamored? And why couldn't you see it now? You were afraid the answer didn't so much lie with Joel, but with you.

You desperately needed to discover more of the person you were before your accident. Maybe then you would get some more insight.

When you got back to Joel's house, you decided to take what little quiet time you had left and read some more of your journal. As the sun rose in the sky, the day began to heat up a bit, taking away that frigid chill in the air, so you cracked a window in his living room and curled up on a worn out, but very comfortable, arm chair.

You flipped through the pages, your eyes landing on the last entry you read: Joel lied to me.

You never asked him about it. Either you were too afraid of the answer or you were too afraid he wouldn't tell the truth. At first, you tried to convince yourself that it was nothing. That maybe you had just gotten into a fight on that particular day and you were mad. But seeing how sporadically you had updated the journal, you got the feeling you wouldn't have written it unless it was important.

And why wouldn't you have elaborated? What could it have been? Something that was so serious, you didn't want to risk putting it down in writing?

You hadn't realized how long you were staring at those four words until you heard Joel's heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs of the porch. You snapped the book shut and looked up just as he opened the door. His dark eyes found you immediately and, as usual, you saw what you always saw - relief in seeing you again, the joy one had when they saw their other half, the attraction a man has for the one he loves.

Damn him and his expressive eyes.

"Hey," you said with a small smile, "how was patrol?"

"Not too bad," he replied, kicking off his boots. "Quiet. No infected. Me 'n Alex made short work of our route," he said, strolling over to collapse into the couch next to your chair. He rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh, his head resting on the back of the couch.

"Tired?"

"Yeah," he said, dropping his hand to his lap and rolling his head in your direction. "Glad I got tomorrow off. Maybe we can do somethin' together."

"Yeah, okay," you agreed. Maybe it would be a good opportunity to learn more about him without directly asking. His eyes drifted down to the journal in your lap and he jutted his chin towards it.

"Read anythin' interesting?"

Looking down at it for a brief moment, you thought about asking him what he lied about, but you ultimately decided against it.

"Yeah, actually," you said, flipping a different page open. "I wrote about a Ben and Lisa. Ellie told me we arrived together and they keep to themselves," you continued, looking up at him. His expression was unreadable. "Maybe I should pay them a visit one of these days. Maybe they can tell me a little about myself before-"

"Yeah, maybe," he said suddenly, then stood up to head towards the kitchen. You frowned, your eyes following him as he filled a glass of water. When he turned back to you, you were still looking at him, waiting for him to say something else.

"Why don't you give it a little time before you go seein' them," he suggested after downing his water in one gulp.

"It's been two weeks," you said quietly, "how much more time should I give it?" He shrugged and strolled back into the living room, leaning against the doorframe.

"What'dya wanna know?" he asked, avoiding your question. "I know you better than anyone. I can answer your questions."

"I didn't know you the whole ten years, though," you reminded him, unfolding your legs from the chair. "It sounds like they knew me longer. I just thought they could tell me how I survived-"

"For what?" he snapped, and his tone took a sudden turn. When you met his gaze again, the warmth was gone, and in its place was a face of stone. "What does that matter?" he asked, his voice rising a little. "You're here, you did what you had to do. We all did. What's the point in rehashin' it?"

"What's the point?" you repeated, bewildered. "The point is so I can learn about myself. So I can figure out the person I became, the person you fell in love with!"

Something flickered across his face for a brief moment before his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said, the edge to his voice now gone. "I'll take you to see 'em one of these days. We'll go together. I haven't seen 'em in a while myself. It'd be good to catch up," he added.

"Okay," you said slowly, "thank you." He took a deep breath and angled his head towards the stairs.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower," he mumbled, and you nodded, your eyes following him up the steps until he disappeared around the corner.

Joel Miller was an incredibly difficult man to figure out. Just when you thought you knew who he was, he did something like that and it made you second guess yourself. You had determined that aggressive side came out when he was protecting the ones he loved. So who was he protecting this time?

"What'dya wanna do today?" Joel asked you around a mouthful of eggs from across your kitchen table.

"Um, I don't know," you said, pushing your food around on your plate uncomfortably. You thought spending time alone with him was a good idea, but when you woke up that morning, you felt nervous. "Did you have anything in mind?"

He sat back in his chair and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "If you were feelin' up for it, thought I could take you outside the walls a bit. Maybe teach you how to ride again."

You perked up at his suggestion. For some reason, you didn't consider leaving Jackson as an option.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you said with a grin, and his chest warmed at the sight. He missed seeing you smile. Then he remembered something that might make you smile again. He stood up quickly, his chair sliding back across the hardwood floor, and walked over to his backpack, still hanging by the door from yesterday.

"What are you doing?" you called after him, but he didn't reply until he reentered the room with his hands behind his back.

"Forgot I gotcha somethin' when I was out yesterday," he said, trying to bite back his smile. It didn't even occur to him until the last second that you might not like what he was about to give you, that maybe your tastes were different ten years ago, but it was too late now. Nervously, he held out two worn paperback books. You stood up with a curious look on your face and took them in your hands, your eyes running over the covers quickly before turning them over and reading the backs. He shifted his weight as he anxiously waited for your reaction, and when he was rewarded with another huge smile, he couldn't hold his own back.

"These sound great," you told him, glancing at the books again. "I love mysteries, this is..." you met his eyes briefly before shyly looking back down. "This is so thoughtful of you, Joel. Thank you."

He beamed with pride, thrilled that he was able to do something nice for you. "You're welcome, ba- ahem," he coughed, stopping himself from finishing his sentence. You looked back up at him, heat creeping up both of your necks. He cleared his throat and turned around, picking up your plates. "You're welcome," he said again, "thought you might be gettin' bored 'round here."

He rinsed the plates in the sink before heading towards the front door. You put your two books on the counter and trailed after him, the both of you sliding on your boots and jackets. Joel grabbed his backpack before opening the door for you and he followed you down the porch steps.

"Yeah, I'm definitely getting a little bored," you said, eyeing him up as you walked side by side towards the stables. "But speaking of that, I was talking to Maria yesterday and she suggested I get a job." His head swiveled over to you, lips parted in surprise, but before he could speak, you continued. "She said I can pick whatever I want, nothing too strenuous."

He nodded and looked straight ahead again, your words rolling around in his head. "Yeah, suppose that makes sense."

"Good," you said, pleased he was open to the idea. "So when I was at the infirmary yesterday, Nick mentioned-"

"Why were you at the infirmary? Were you in pain? Did you get hurt?"

"Joel, I was fine," you said with a huff. You pointed to the back of your head. "I had my stitches removed."

He stopped in his tracks, which made you skid to a halt. His arms reached out to lift up your hair but at the last second, he held back.

"Can I?" he asked over your shoulder, and you nodded. He gingerly lifted up your hair to take a look at your injury, which felt much better now that the stitches were gone.

"Made showering so much easier," you told him. He hummed and dropped your hair.

"Looks good," he said, and continued walking. "You shoulda waited, I woulda went with you," he added.

"It took ten minutes," you said, waving him off as the stables came into view. "But while I was there, Nick mentioned his aide got reassigned to patrol to fill my old position, so I offered to take her place."

"You wanna work at the infirmary?" he asked, and you shrugged.

"I don't know much, but he said I didn't need to. He just needs help around the office. Cleaning up, taking inventory, maybe help him with some minor procedures. Hand him tools and all that," you said, and Joel nodded slowly.

"Alright," he said, "if that's what you wanna do, sure."

And although you weren't asking for his permission, it felt like you got it, anyway.

As you got closer to the stables, the high pitched whinny of a horse in a nearby paddock caught both your attention. The horse looked smaller - younger - and was attached to a long rope, and in the center of the field holding the other end was a man around Joel's age. Even from a distance, you could see the clench in his jaw and the way his muscles strained to rein in the animal, but he was losing the fight. The horse was too young and too strong and kept pulling away, getting as far away from the man as possible before the lead went taught and the horse was forced to face the man again. Each time it happened, the horse let out a shrill whinny and stomped its hooves in the dirt, expressing its displeasure.

"That's Caleb," Joel said as you both paused to watch. "Must be breakin' in a yearling."

"Breaking in?" you asked, your eyes still glued to the horse, whose head was twisting around angrily, trying to break free.

"It means he's tryin' to tame her so we can ride her," he explained, and you nodded. You both leaned up against the fence and watched the beautiful animal rear up and then dig its hooves deeper into the dirt, dust kicking up into a cloud around them. Caleb was struggling. Sweat was dripping down his face as he tugged on the lead and shouted commands at the horse, but she was having none of it.

The horse's whinnies were becoming louder and more panicked. The whites of her eyes showed when Caleb attempted to get closer, his skin tight over his knuckles from holding onto the rope. Once Caleb got close enough, the horse swung its massive head around in the air then reared back again with all its might, pulling Caleb off his feet unexpectedly with a shout.

"Shit," Joel muttered. He gripped the top rail of the fence and hauled himself over before you could even process what was happening. You watched, eyes wide, as Joel ran into the middle of the field, his arms raised up high over his head to keep the horse from stomping on Caleb.

"Hey! Hey!" you heard Joel's booming voice shout at the animal, drawing her attention off Caleb. The horse charged at Joel, but swerved away at the last second. Joel turned around and gave Caleb a hand, dragging him to his feet before the horse made its way back to where they stood.

"Hey," Joel said, softer this time, but his arms still stretched out in front of him. The horse skidded to a stop a few feet away, snorting and pawing at the dirt, its long tail flicking back and forth. Caleb stood and dusted himself off before taking a few steps backwards to catch his breath, but Joel remained in the same spot. He stared down the animal, the two of them silently sizing the other up. Joel's voice rang out again, just as soft as before. "Hey, shh, girl," he said, relaxing his stance a bit.

You stood cemented to the ground, entranced, as you watched the stand off between man and beast. Joel didn't look scared. He barely even flinched when the horse let out another high pitched squeal. He stood tall and firm, refusing to back down, and patiently waited for the horse to come to him.

He left his arm outstretched as an olive branch, his eyes never leaving the horse. He murmured low, soothing noises until it took a tentative step forward. Joel nodded encouragingly and continued to speak softly, earning him another step.

You felt a stirring low in your stomach as you continued to watch, with your jaw slack and your breaths shallow. Joel finally reached out and grabbed the lead, then ran the flat of his hand slowly up and down the horse's nose, giving it a little scratch between the eyes, and you clenched your thighs together.

After a few minutes of Joel calmingly murmuring to the horse, he handed the rope back to Caleb, who expressed his deepest gratitude before carefully leading the filly back towards the stables. Joel turned back towards you, dusting his hands off as he walked. Your cheeks felt warm by the time he made it to the other side of the fence and climbed over.

"That was..." you trailed off, not sure what to say. He smirked at you as he leaned down to pick his backpack up. "That was really impressive," you finally squeaked out. Unbeknownst to you, he could see right through you. He'd known you for too long and he especially knew what you looked like when you were aroused. He eyed you up and down before nodding towards the stables.

"It's 'bout respect and patience. You get what you give," he explained as he wiped away some sweat that formed on the back of his neck. Your mouth went dry at the sight.

"H-have you done that before?"

"What, break in wild animals?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you, and you nodded. If he didn't already clock the way you were reacting, he wouldn't have said what he said next. "No. Only you."

You choked on your laughter and he grinned.

"I hardly think I can compare to a wild horse," you said, your cheeks on fire.

"You're right. Tamin' you was harder."

"I thought I was the one who confronted you about sneaking around? Which is it?" you teased as you followed him into the barn, the scent of hay and leather and the sound of horses gently snorting in their stalls invading your senses.

"Oh, you did. You just didn't like sneakin' 'round. Took a lot longer to make you fall in love and move in with me," he said. He walked up to a list pinned to a clipboard and scribbled his name inside an empty slot.

"Mm, and you really think you can do it again?" you asked, trying to sound doubtful but your smile gave you away. He glanced down at you, leaning against the wall for a moment, his eyes lingering on your lips and cheeks before chuckling.

"Oh, absolutely," he said lowly, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

"Alright, Casanova. Let's get a move on," you said, rolling your eyes and turning away, but not before he caught the excited glint in your eye.

Thank god for Joel's backpack.

That was the only thing separating you two as you clung to him from behind as he steered your borrowed horse through the woods. It was peaceful. Serene, even. It was hard to believe so many horrible things happened, and were still happening, in this world when you were surrounded by such beauty. And you might have been able to appreciate it more if you weren't so utterly distracted by your body's reaction to Joel. You couldn't imagine what you would be thinking and feeling if there wasn't a buffer between you. Had you been able to feel each and every strong muscle in his back and shoulders, or the heat rolling off him, or fully commit to memory his very unique and intoxicating scent.

No, luckily you had some distance, and by the time he reached the field he was looking for, you felt like you had regained your senses. You brushed off your earlier reaction to your hormones and nothing more by the time you slid down from the horse and joined Joel on the ground.

"It's so quiet out here," you remarked, looking around and shrugging off your jacket. By now, the sun had risen high enough in the sky to warm everything up around you, the frosty morning air long since melted away. Joel tied the reins of your horse around a tree trunk and took off his own jacket, slinging it over the saddle.

"We used to come out here a lot," was all he said, avoiding your eyes. You looked around again, trying to find something familiar. He could tell what you were doing and he shook his head.

"Don't try to force it, it ain't gonna do any good," he said, and you looked over at him, surprised.

"Sorry. I'm really trying," you said softly, looking down at the dirt. He looked at you sadly, just for a moment when your attention was on your shoes, then forced a smile across his face.

"C'mon, I wanna show you somethin'."

You followed him through the thinning trees towards the open field; the grass waist high as you hiked through it together, cicadas singing all around you as you walked. The sun was growing more powerful, but you weren't uncomfortable.

"This is my favorite time of year," you told him, and he glanced over at you. "It's not too hot, not too cold."

He smiled and looked straight ahead once again. "I know. You like warm days and cold nights."

"That's right," you said, pressing your lips together and wondering if there would ever be anything you could tell him that he didn't already seem to know. "You have a good memory."

"When it comes to you, yeah."

Joel held out an arm to stop you, your face angled towards the ground as you walked so you wouldn't trip. You looked up when you ran into his arm, first at him, and then at the scenery before you.

It was breathtaking. Somehow, without even realizing it, you were on top of a mountain. Or, close to it, anyway. Near the edge, you looked around and saw other hills and valleys surrounding you, green and lush and full of life. A flock of blackbirds swooped by straight ahead, and way down below, between all the jagged rocks, was a little lazy river.

"This is beautiful," you breathed, your eyes glistening. Joel studied your face while you were distracted, his eyes never once looking at the nature surrounding you.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered. You dragged your eyes away from the view and gave him a dazzling smile, one that made his chest ache, before sitting down at the edge of the grass with a sigh.

"Okay. What do you miss most about your life before?" you asked him out of the blue. His stomach lurched, his mind immediately filled with thoughts of a little girl with curly hair and dark brown eyes that once made him finally understand the true meaning of unconditional love.

"Barbeques," he choked out, hoping you didn't pick up on his mood shift.

"Mm, that's a good one," you said dreamily, still staring out over the edge of the cliff. "What was your favorite part?"

He felt himself relax a bit as you forced his mind to shift gears. "The music. The food. Just... lazy weekends, hangin' out with friends or family. Spendin' time with people I cared 'bout."

"What's your favorite barbeque food?" you asked, pulling your knees up to your chest and turning your head towards him.

He thought about it for a moment, his daughter's memory drifting back into the recesses of his mind. "Ribs. Or maybe burgers. Tough call," he said with a chuckle. You slapped the side of your leg and turned your whole body towards him excitedly.

"Oh, my god. Speaking of ribs. My brother - Matty - one time he was in an 'all you can eat' ribs competition," you said, a grin already pulling at the corners of your mouth. "He was like, 22 at the time and he could really pack food away. Like, really eat. It scared the shit outta my mom, she had no idea how he did it and still stayed so trim," you said, and Joel chuckled. "Anyway, he entered this contest and all of the other contestants were these, like, huge guys. I'm talking pushing 300 pounds huge, right?" you said, the excitement evident in your voice now as your eyes shone bright, making Joel smile even more. "So, anyway, one by one these guys are dropping like flies and my brother just kept mowing down all these ribs like it was nothing. It was down to him and one other guy and the other guy looked like he was about to tap out. The prize was like, a thousand bucks, and we were all getting so damn excited. He was gonna win!" you said, your voice getting louder the more excited you became. Seeing you that happy for the first time in weeks made Joel's heart feel like it was going to burst, so he played along and urged you on. "Then, Matty freezes. And I'm staring at him. And he's just staring down at his hands, and we're all like 'what the hell is he doing?' and suddenly - woosh!" you said with a giggle, using your arms for emphasis. "He pukes everywhere! It was so fucking much, Joel! And it was so disgusting, oh my god. People were running from their seats and dry heaving, and me and my parents are fucking dying with laughter," you said, your giggles growing louder the more you remembered. You wiped a stray tear from the corner of your eye as you continued. "Anyway, of course he got disqualified and he never could be in the same room as a rack of ribs ever again," you finished, flashing him a grin. But when you saw his expression, although he was smiling and giving you some obligatory laughs, you could tell it wasn't the first time he had heard that story.

"You knew that already, didn't you?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. He smirked and looked down at his hands.

"Yeah," he admitted, and you groaned. "But it's still a real funny story. I love the way you tell it."

"I wonder if there's anything I didn't tell you," you said with a sigh. He inched a little closer when he heard the despair in your voice.

"It doesn't matter. I love hearin' everythin' 'bout you," he said, and you gave him a little smile. "You could tell me a hundred times and I wouldn't care."

He kept saying that word. Love. Over and over, like it was nothing. You looked away, his eye contact too intense all of the sudden, and stared out at the beauty before you. But you could still feel the heat of his gaze on your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine. Your mind raced, trying to think of something else to say when he softly whispered your name. You tilted your head in his direction and the look in his eye caused you to temporarily forget how to breathe. He was staring at you like you were the only other person in the world. Like you were a siren, calling to him on the sea, or Aphrodite, knocking him to his knees in prayer.

No, no, no, you thought as he leaned in a fraction, his eyes flicking down to your lips. Too soon. Not ready.

A blood curdling screech echoed from somewhere behind you. Somewhere far too close for comfort. You froze, eyes wide and scared, but Joel whipped around and reached into his backpack, pulling out his revolver and knife.

Stay here, he mouthed, pressing a finger to his lips, and you couldn't remember if you acknowledged him or not before he crouched and disappeared into the long grass, leaving you all alone on the edge of a very dangerous cliff with some terrifying monster nearby. Slowly, trying very hard not to make a sound, you turned your head, searching for the source of the noise. As you scanned the field, the tall grass hiding Joel somewhere in its depths, you spotted it. It, being the only proper word.

It was hideous. Fucking disgusting. Half its face was overgrown with fungus plates, its mouth wide and wet and dribbling with blood, teeth yellowed and bared. It hunched over as it got closer and closer to you, snapping its jaw like a lion, trying to locate its next meal. You swallowed roughly as it got closer, its torn clothes and bent fingers coming into view. And the smell. The stench of death and rot filled the air, completely ruining the beautiful backdrop you were admiring mere minutes ago. Your heart slammed wildly in your chest, your breathing unsteady and your hands shook violently. You had nothing to defend yourself. You looked to your side, wondering if you could push it over the cliff if necessary. Where was Joel?!

Just as it was about to clear the grass and step into the clearing, Joel leapt up behind the creature and stabbed it in the back of the head with a loud grunt. It collapsed in an instant, blood spilling from its skull as Joel stood over the corpse, shoulders and chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

"Oh my god," you whispered, your trembling hands coming up to cover your mouth as you stared at the lifeless body. You hadn't seen an infected alive yet. And they were far more terrifying than you ever imagined. Tears welled up in your eyes that you quickly tried to flick away, but Joel already noticed.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he cleaned his knife off in the grass.

"Yeah," you replied shakily, still staring at the dead infected a few feet away. You slowly forced yourself to your feet and walked around it, only stopping when you were safely in the grass. With a grunt, Joel kicked the body closer and closer to the edge until it tumbled over. You winced as you heard its body faintly thudding and cracking against the rocks and branches below. He glanced over at you, your face screwed up with a mix of distaste and fear, and he sighed.

"Wanna just head back?"

"Yeah," you said, looking at the view once more before following him through the tall grass. "It was nice while it lasted, though."

The two of you trudged through the grass quietly, back towards the woods. He could tell you were shaken up and he inwardly cursed the clicker for ruining what could have ended up being a really nice day with you. A day where he thought he was making some progress. He made you smile and laugh and he definitely recognized that heated look in your eye back at the stables, but all of those memories suddenly seemed so distant. It wasn't until the horse came into view that he even remembered why he brought you out in the first place.

"You still wanna learn to ride?"

You looked up at him, your perfect lips parted ever so slightly. It made him want to grab your chin and press his mouth against yours so he could remember what you felt like again.

"Oh, sure," you said, glancing wearily over at the horse as you approached.

"Why don't you take the reins and I'll sit behind you," he offered as he untied the horse from the tree. "That way I can take over if you're feelin' too nervous."

"Okay..." you agreed slowly, realizing that meant he would be pressed up against you for the entire ride home. And this time, there wouldn't be a buffer.

He laced his fingers together and bent forward, offering you a boost. You got a good grip on the saddle and delicately placed your foot in his hands before he launched you upwards. You swung your leg over and shifted in the saddle a bit, looking down at the back of the horse's head. Its long ears flickered back and forth, trying to shoo away the flies.

You gasped when the saddle shifted slightly and Joel climbed up behind you. Your body stiffened and you stared straight ahead as he got himself comfortable. You tried to block it out, but when his arms wrapped around you from behind and took the reins from your grasp, you realized it would be impossible.

"This is how you wanna hold 'em, see?" he murmured softly in your ear, and you immediately felt goosebumps break out up and down your arms. He hadn't been this close before. Not even when he was examining your head wound. His exhale tickled the side of your neck and you realized his lips were dangerously close to your exposed skin. When it occurred to you that he had asked you a question, you blinked and snapped out of it.

"Yeah," you said, and you hoped he would think your hands were shaking because you were nervous to ride and nothing more.

"Now we're ridin' western, so when you steer, you wanna pull the reins across, like this," he said, demonstrating with his hands over yours, and just like that, the horse turned to the left. "And you just do the opposite if you wanna go the other way."

"Okay, makes sense," you replied, surprised you were actually following along.

"You want the horse to move, you gotta squeeze your legs. Gotta do it hard, though. It's a big animal, they can't feel you if you don't squeeze hard."

"Uh huh," you said, so you gave it a try. You squeezed your legs as hard as you could and the horse slowly lumbered forwards, and you squealed with excitement. "I did it!"

Joel chuckled behind you. You could feel the deep rumble through your back and the little puffs of air from his nose on your neck. It made you shudder, and you tried to pass it off like you were cold. The horse began to slowly walk back the way you came, through the trees and past a little stream, and the longer you walked, the more confident you became.

"This isn't so bad," you admitted, and you weren't sure if you were talking about Joel's embrace or riding the horse. You were growing used to his arms around you now, even though you didn't really need his hands to guide yours, you didn't say anything. It was... nice.

"How do I make it go faster?" you asked.

"Well, you can give her a little kick, or you can click your tongue. You remember how to click your tongue?"

You laughed a little and without thinking, you gave it a try. Clicking your tongue experimentally against your teeth sent the horse rushing forward. Just into a trot, but it still took you off guard. You gasped and leaned back into Joel's chest, looking to steady yourself so you wouldn't fall. You could feel him laughing behind you as he tightened his arms around your waist and gave the reins a gentle tug, slowing the horse back down to a walk.

"Not funny!" you exclaimed, but your smile gave you away.

He missed this. He really missed this. He missed holding you and laughing with you and spending time with you. What he wouldn't give to kiss you again. He ached for the way you tasted, the way you moaned underneath him, the feeling of your smooth skin under his rough palms. Every day that passed he felt like he was forgetting little by little, and the urge to remind himself, the urge to pull you into his arms and kiss you deeply and take you to bed with him was becoming more intense by the day.

But he had to be patient. He could be patient. You'd come around, one day. He was sure of it.

By the time you made it back to Jackson, you were feeling much more at ease. Maybe this is what you needed. Some time away with Joel, just the two of you, so you could learn more about him. You had to admit, you were beginning to see a very soft and sweet side to him that you only caught glimpses of in the past.

Before today, you hadn't been able to understand the attraction. He was good looking, you already knew that, but you also knew that couldn't have just been it. That wasn't enough to share a love for one another that he classified as rare and meant to be. Now, it was starting to become clearer. There was something inherently sexy about the way he handled himself. The confidence he had, which, at first, came off as cocky, you now viewed in a different light. After the way he handled the horse in the pasture and the clicker in the field, you were beginning to understand.

Joel Miller was a protector. He cared deeply and passionately for the ones he loved, and he stopped at nothing to defend them. Sometimes that love was misplaced as anger, and that's where he kept losing you.

He had asked if you felt up to joining Tommy and Maria at the dining hall for dinner, and even though you were a little tired from your outing, you agreed.

As you walked down the street together, he had to fight the impulse to hold your hand. He still noticed the way people looked at you, their curiosity over your now famous injury getting the best of them, but once they caught his eye they quickly averted their gaze. It angered him, he couldn't help it. He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. You didn't deserve to be gawked at.

You followed Joel through the crowded hall once again, and just like before, the crowd naturally parted for him. He seemed to be making his way towards the back, towards the same table as before, only this time Tommy and Maria were already seated and waiting.

Maria greeted you with a hug and you gave Tommy a quick smile across the table before sitting down between her and Joel.

"Beautiful day out today," Maria said off to the side while Joel and Tommy talked amongst themselves.

"Yeah, it really was. I'm gonna miss it when the snow comes," you said, giving her a face. "Who's watching your daughter?" you asked suddenly, glancing around as if you could have possibly missed a small child running around.

"Oh, Dina offered to babysit, so we jumped at the chance to get out of the house," she said with a laugh. "Did you do anything exciting today?"

"Yeah, actually," you said, glancing at Joel, who was still talking quietly to his brother. "Joel taught me how to ride a horse. Well... re-taught me, I guess," you said with a small laugh.

"Thats fantastic. I'm glad you were feeling well enough to go out," Maria said with a warm smile.

"Oh, that reminds me-" you said, stopping yourself when Seth came over to take your orders. You just asked for what Maria was getting and turned your attention back to her. "I thought of a job."

Her eyes widened in surprise and she clapped her hands together. "Let's hear it!"

"I thought I could help out at the infirmary," you said, and she nodded along thoughtfully. "Nick was telling me his aide had to join patrol and he says he just needs someone to help do things around the office."

"That sounds like a great idea," she said, but you could hear the hesitation in her voice. When she glanced over at Joel, you connected the dots and sighed.

"He's fine with it," you grumbled, your gaze dropping to your hands.

"Fine with what?" Joel's voice asked from beside you.

"She wants to help out at the infirmary," Maria said, and Tommy grinned.

"Great idea, sugar," he said, "Nick could use the help. He's smart, but he's disorganized as all hell."

"I think it'll be good for you," Joel said, his knee knocking against yours under the table. "Help you get to know everyone a little better. Besides, if anythin' were to happen, you're in the right place," he added, leaning back in his chair so Seth could put his plate down in front of him.

"What do you mean?" you asked, picking up your fork and then scrunching your nose when you saw cherry tomatoes on your plate. Without even looking up, Joel speared the tomatoes with his fork and put them on his plate, then the three of you watched as he gathered his squash and gave it to you.

"I mean, if your head ever got to hurtin' again, then you'd be in the right place," he explained, looking up and licking the pad of his thumb. He frowned a bit when he noticed the table staring at him, and Tommy and Maria quickly ducked their heads to focus on their food, hiding their smiles.

"What?"

You dropped your gaze shyly to your plate and poked at the squash with your fork. "You know I hate tomatoes."

Heat crept up his neck a bit but he grinned. "The acid upsets your stomach," he said, and you chuckled to yourself, about to say something else when Jesse happened to walk by your table with some friends.

"Hey, Jesse!" Tommy called out, making him stop. He gave you all a quick wave before looking at Tommy expectantly. "Think you can join in on the 10am patrol tomorrow? Joel was just tellin' me he saw a clicker in that zone. Don't want any surprises like last time."

"Yeah, of course," Jesse said, then Joel frowned.

"Speakin' of last time," Joel said, his eyes drifting back and forth between the two men. "You never did explain how she got hurt on your patrol."

"That's right," you said, setting down your fork, "what happened? How did I fall? Was it the horse?"

Tommy and Jesse exchanged a nervous look. It was quick, but Joel still caught it. His jaw ticked to the side as he patiently waited for an answer.

"Uh, it was all so fast, and so much was happenin'," Tommy said, clearly floundering.

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to remember exactly," Jesse said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, try," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave. You turned your head slightly to look at him, not understanding why there was a sudden mood shift.

"We got ambushed by a small hoard," Tommy began, pushing his food around on his plate. "Thought we had it handled til a bunch more came outta nowhere," he continued, looking up to meet your eye now. "You were takin' down a runner, didn't see one comin' up behind you and it pushed you down. Knocked your head on a sharp boulder. Jesse 'n me took down the rest of 'em and that's when we realized you were knocked out cold."

You nodded, the story making sense as you remembered waking up to them yelling your name and their clothes covered in blood. But Joel wasn't satisfied. He knew they were leaving something out.

"That all?" he pressed, eyeing his brother. Tommy looked at Joel, a tense moment passing between the two before Tommy slowly nodded. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Jesse interrupted.

"It was my fault."

The whole table turned to look at him, taken aback. His hands were fidgeting at his sides as he avoided Joel's intense stare, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"I wanted to check out this department store. It was too big, we hadn't cleared the area, b-but we hadn't seen any infected in weeks a-and I thought we were good," he said, glancing up quickly at Joel, who was clenching his jaw and glaring at Jesse.

"What'd you need so bad from this store?" Joel seethed, and you saw Jesse swallow nervously.

"I-it's me and Grace's anniversary soon, wanted to get her something-"

Joel stood up quickly, his chair tumbling backwards, clattering loudly on the ground and silencing the room.

"So you wanted to get your girlfriend a present? That's why she can't remember a goddamn thing?" Joel roared, pointing at you. Tommy stood up and held his hands out.

"Calm down, Joel."

"I ain't calmin' down!" he shouted, and you jumped in your chair, scooting away from him and closer to Maria, who put an arm around you and urged you to stand.

"Let's go to the bar," she murmured, ushering you away as if she knew what was coming.

"I-I'm so sorry, Joel," Jesse stammered, tripping over his feet as he tried to put some distance between them.

"Sorry ain't gonna bring her back," he growled, rounding the table, his shoulders tight and his eyes wild. He reached out and grabbed Jesse by the collar before Tommy could react, and slammed him face first into the table. Food and cutlery went everywhere. People at nearby tables backed away but stayed to watch the fight unfold. Joel lifted Jesse up and smashed his face into the table again with a grunt, and this time you heard Jesse cry out in pain. You covered your mouth in horror as you watched Tommy try to pry Joel's hands off of him. "Wonder how many hits it'll take before you forget Grace. Maybe then we'll be even!" he shouted, pulling him back up by the collar. By now, blood poured from Jesse's mouth and his cheeks, mixing with tears as he tried to pull Joel's hands away. Just as Joel was about to slam his head into the table for a third time, you found your voice.

"Stop!!" you screamed, and by some miracle, he did. He still gripped Jesse's shirt in his hands, but Joel twisted his head around to look at you. Whatever he in your face made his fingers loosen their grip and Jesse stumbled backwards, collapsing into a chair as Tommy kneeled down next to him, trying to wipe away the blood.

Joel turned his whole body toward you, his face red and his chest heaving. His eyes were still crazed with anger but you could see it slowly melting away.

He took a step forward and you took a step back.

His eyes dropped to your feet, regret washing over him in an instant.

"Maria, can you gimme a hand?" Tommy called out, and she rushed over to help Jesse stand. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw them slowly leading Jesse towards the front door, no doubt in search of the doctor to help patch his wounds, but your eyes remained locked on Joel.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, not caring about all the onlookers still frozen in silence. But you did. You opened your mouth, then glanced around and thought better of it.

"Not here," you said under your breath, then stalked towards the exit, pushing your way past people until you felt the cool night air in your lungs.

You hurried down the street, wrapping your arms around yourself as you barreled home. You didn't turn around to see if he was following you. You knew he was. It was almost like you could feel him now. His presence draped around you like a scarf, surrounding you, engulfing you, suffocating you.

Storming up the porch steps, you flung the door open and walked inside, not bothering to close it behind you. You charged into the kitchen and paced around, your anger boiling inside you with nowhere for it to go.

"I'm sorry," he tried again from the doorway, trying to give you space. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. His eyebrows were pinched together as he quietly waited for you to say something.

"Have you always been like this?"

His breath caught in his throat and he paused for a moment before replying. "Since we met? Yes."

"So you're saying I've caused you to act like a caveman when you hear something you don't like?" you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.

"No, no, that's not - what I meant was, since you've known me, I've... had a temper," he said, quickly correcting himself.

You let a silent moment pass between you as you thought about what he said.

"It's no wonder it took me so long to fall in love with you," you said, and he winced. He looked away, trying to hide the pain, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad, but you stood your ground.

"It didn't bother you before," he mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Well, it bothers me now," you snapped, and he nodded.

"Okay, then I'll work on it," he conceded, looking up at you. "Happy?"

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Thrilled."

Brushing past him, you marched up the stairs towards your bedroom and slammed the door shut behind you.

You could hear him moving around downstairs as you washed up and changed into pajamas, still seething at his behavior. How could you possibly fall in love with this man? You could barely figure out who he was - one minute he was soft and sweet, and the next he was bashing people's faces in. Even you could see it wasn't really Jesse's fault. The three of you would have agreed to check out the store together. Joel was just looking for someone to blame. It was immature and brutish and stupid.

Just as you pulled the covers over yourself, you heard a quiet rap on the door. You paused for a moment before rolling your eyes.

"Come in."

The door slowly creaked open and Joel slipped inside your room, glancing around at the bedroom you once shared together before looking at you.

"Can we talk?"

You furrowed your brow for a second before nodding, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped forward and perched on the side of the bed, facing the wall so you could only see his side profile as he sat, deep in thought. You pulled your legs up so your chin rested on your knees and waited.

"I lied to you."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you couldn't help but think of the journal - Joel lied to me - and wondered if this was it. If you were going to get your answer.

"When you asked me what I missed most 'bout... before. I lied."

Okay, so probably not the lie in the journal, but still, your interest was piqued.

"What do you miss most?" you finally asked, and he sucked in a deep breath, his eyes glistening as he stared at the wall.

"My daughter. Sarah."

Your heart clenched in your chest and your gaze dropped to your hands. A daughter?

A long silence passed as you slowly connected the dots. The way he was with Ellie. The anger. The journal entry about Tommy having a daughter. The softness he kept hidden away.

"She died on outbreak day," he began, his throat already constricting. "Died in my arms. She was shot and-" he sniffled and took a deep breath. "And I couldn't save her. I held her and watched the light leave her eyes and I -" he choked back a sob and looked down, still avoiding your gaze. "I've never been the same," he finally managed to get out.

You swallowed back the tears that were forming. How couldn't you see? Of course he was hurting. Of course he lost someone. Just like you lost your family, he lost his. Were you that selfish and blind that you couldn't see it?

"Joel, I'm so sorry," you said shakily, but he shook his head.

"Just wanted to explain why I'm... whatever," he replied, giving up and rubbing his face.

Your chest ached for him. He was in pain and you couldn't stand it. Inching forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck, tentatively resting the side of your head on his shoulder. His hand came up to cup your elbow and he tilted his head so it rested against yours.

"I'm sorry," you repeated softly.

"Me, too."

You stayed like that for a while. Extending small olive branches to each other as you sat with the weight of what the world did to you both, and you finally began to understand what might have brought you together in the first place.

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[erwinsvow]

really, rafe hadn’t even realized he’d done anything special. 

he was used to having sarah’s litter of friends over at tannyhill, as annoying as it was. after one of them had needed an ambulance and a stomach pumping after too many shots snuck in upstairs in his sister’s room, he was trying to keep a handle on things, keep an eye on the situation. be proactive, be the man of the house, which he was when ward wasn’t there.

he thought he’d heard a bunch of girls scurry out in the morning, but he must have been wrong, because when he’s walking to his truck, he finds you, sitting on the ground next to your bike, blocking his exit.

you look angry, mumbling curses under your breath while you fiddle with something he can’t see—though your bike is tipped over and the wheel looks slightly deflated. 

the first thought in his head is to tell you to move with your bike or he’ll run you both over. but that’s not what the man of the house would say, so instead he gets closer, crouching next to you.

“what’s goin’ on?”

you look up, startled. you were so focused on your broken bike that you hadn’t heard the footsteps of sarah’s older brother, the one she always complains about.

“everyone left for the beach already, i was gonna bike there. i got on and the wheel just gave out and i fell off. i don’t know what’s wrong with the stupid thing.” you’re facing your bike now, looking at the various gears and chains trying to make sense of it. you don’t look back at him but he’s still staring.

rafe doesn’t think he’s met you before, thinks he would have remembered—you were too pretty for him to forget.

he hoists the bike upright, spinning the tire until a gleam of silver comes around.

“nail in the driveway. your, uh, little bike didn’t have a chance.”

“crap. i don’t have the thing with me.”

“the thing?”

“the air pumpy thing. you know, the thing?” you look up at rafe to see his furrowed eyebrows.

“yeah, kid. sure.” he takes a step back, leaning the bike against his truck. “lemme go see what i can find.” you’re still perched on the ground, but pressing your palms flat on the pavement to get yourself up. “here-” he offers you his hand, helping you up.

even standing, you still have to look up at rafe to see his face. 

“you don’t have to do that. i’m sure you’re busy. i can always walk-”

“nah, it’s fine. you saved my tire from getting that nail. stay here, i’ll be back.” 

and you listen, twiddling your thumbs waiting for rafe. he comes back with a tire pump and other things that you don’t recognize, but you watch intently. when he pulls out the nail, he offers it to you, and you offer him your cupped palms to drop it into. 

finally, rafe stands and moves the bike slowly, testing it out.

“here, kid. good as new.”

“wow. thanks rafe!” you beam, smiling brightly. “that was so nice of you. you’re so nice.” you think you sound a little dazed—but you are. rafe is so nice to you, nothing like what sarah had told you about him.

at first rafe can’t tell if you’re just joking or not, but he decides not when you don’t immediately get on your bike and ride to where your friends are.

“uh, thanks. it’s nothin’. m’not just gonna leave you here like your shitty friends did.” you laugh, still smiling at him. “well, uh, i’ll see you around, kid.” for once, he actually hopes he does.

after the beach that day, you swing back home, making sure to ask sarah what her brother’s favorite dessert is. you pack a big batch of oatmeal raisin cookies in a pretty pink tin and put them in the wicker basket attached to your bicycle, riding over to sarah’s place. 

instead of going upstairs like you normally do, you wander into the kitchen, where rafe is standing, looking at some papers spread out on the island.

“hi, rafe,” you say, and when he turns to look at you, you smile big. 

“hey, kid. uh, i don’t think sarah’s home yet-”

“oh, i didn’t come for her.” you open the tin, placing it on the counter infront of him. “i just wanted to say thanks for this morning. sarah said you like oatmeal raisin.”

he looks up down at the cookies, then at you. 

“thanks. y’know, you didn’t have to do that.”

“maybe. you were just so nice this morning, i felt like i should do something.” you’re looking up at him with big, fluttery eyes and a thudding heart. “is there anything else i can do? that you want? to say thank you?”

he cocks an eyebrow, tilting his head, hoping he’s understanding you correctly while knowing that he is.

“yeah-yeah? anything else?”

“i just want to thank you properly,” you sigh, getting closer. being bold’s not new to you, but this is only the second time you’re talking to him. you’re sure he understands, with the tiny dress you wore here, the one with the low neck and thin straps.

“yeah. alright, kid. c’mon, upstairs.” you beam, darting up the stairs and giving him a show in the process. he stares from the foot of the stairs for a second before joining you.

you’re so glad you stuck that nail in your tire.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 3 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness/vomiting, food aversions, fatigue, some angst sprinkled in for ~flavor~

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

March 1999

Oatmeal: a delicious, nutritious breakfast food that has been a staple in your diet since you were a child. It hasn’t done anything wrong. 

Until now. 

The scents of brown sugar and cinnamon always perk you up in the morning; at least, as much as anything can without containing copious amounts of caffeine. Today; however, they waft past your nose and have you hurtling towards the bathroom. 

Eddie runs in from the bedroom, his jeans button still unfastened where he’d abandoned getting dressed for work. “S’okay,” he murmurs, rubbing your back as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Your cheeks blaze with the rush of blood to your face and the shame from being in such a vulnerable position. 

You spit the last of it into the bowl and grab a handful of toilet paper to wipe your lips, taking a moment to collect yourself before slowly standing up. Eddie places a warm washcloth in your palm; you hadn’t even heard the faucet running over the pounding in your ears.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pressing the damp cloth to your forehead and taking a deep, shaky breath. This isn’t your first bout of morning sickness–that happened about a week after you received your positive test result–and it likely won’t be the last. Still, you’re surprised at how quickly your husband has adapted to this relatively new routine. 

He kisses your scalp, nimble fingers fixing his pants button and buckling his belt. “Are you sure you wanna go to work today?” he asks, concern pinching his brows as he takes in your exhausted form.

You nod slowly, determined to stop the room from spinning. “I already took off twice last week.” 

“So?”

“So,” you explain with a sigh, “I don’t want to use up all of my sick days in the first trimester. Not when I’ll have more doctor appointments as I get farther along.” Not to mention the fact that people have started questioning your absences, and you’re not ready to tell anyone the reason just yet. “Besides, I woke up feeling okay; I didn’t throw up until I smelled the oatmeal.” Your insides lurch at the mere mention of the food, and you find yourself hovering over the bowl once more.

Eddie hums knowingly as he runs the washcloth under the water again and wrings it out with a twist of his hands. “Uh-huh. And what if one of your students happens to talk about oat–”

“Don’t say it!” you cut him off as forcefully as you can, fighting your buckling knees as you steady yourself. 

He relents, exasperatedly pivoting back to the bedroom to finish getting dressed. There’s little sense in arguing with you, especially with a nosy little boy eating breakfast in the kitchen not even twenty feet away. As far as Harris knew, you’d just been battling a stomach bug, and you and Eddie were both grateful that he hadn’t questioned it further. His response was telling you a…charming story about how his friend Charlie ate three bags of Hot Cheetos before promptly vomiting all over the cafeteria table; an anecdote that did nothing to quell your nausea.

You pull yourself together enough to make it to work. The queasiness subsides as the minutes tick on, though you take your lunch break in your car to avoid any smells in the faculty lounge that could inadvertently trigger another bout of sickness. You half-heartedly go through the motions of story time and arts and crafts, silently promising your students that you’ll have more enthusiasm once your second trimester begins.

By the time you arrive back home and trudge through the door, you may as well be dragging sandbags from your ankles. Exhaustion hits you without warning, your eyelids heavier with each passing second. You drop your keys on the side table and glance over at the clock hanging on the wall. The larger hand has barely ticked past the “6,” which means you have just under a half hour until you have to leave and pick up Harris from his after-school art program.

You don’t even make it to your bedroom, heaving your body onto the couch with a grunt; the stiff pillows have never been more comfortable. The last thought that crosses your fatigued mind is that you can’t sleep for long. If you lay down for a moment…set an alarm for fifteen minutes…

You’re awoken not of your own accord, but by the sound of the apartment door squeaking, the knob thwacking against the wall as though it’s being flung open.

“Thank God you’re okay.” It comes out in one breath, Eddie’s relief palpable as soon as he sees that you’re alive and breathing. 

Still groggy with sleep, you push yourself onto your elbows, squinting at the influx of light from the hallway. Why wouldn’t you be okay? You were just taking a nap; it’s only been…an hour and a half?

“Shit, shit, shit!” You scramble to your feet, not even cognizant of the fact that you’re swearing in front of Harris. You take in his tear-stained face, comprehending his thought process before he can even say it aloud. “Har, I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t forget about you. I’ve just been really sleepy–”

“Har, can you go to your room for a sec?” Eddie keeps his voice even and controlled, but you can still sense the frustration simmering beneath. He puts his hands on his son’s shoulders and gives a tense squeeze, and Harris nods and somberly obeys. 

Your misty eyes meet your husband’s gaze, his jaw steeled as you fumble to explain yourself. “Eddie, it was a total accident! I…I needed to rest…I didn’t think I’d sleep this long…” 

He shakes his head, arms dejectedly hanging by his sides. “I asked you not to go to work,” he says softly, teeth digging into his lower lip. “It’s not because I think you’re weak or incapable or anything like that. You just need to take care of yourself.” His voice drops to an even quieter whisper as he walks closer to you, caressing your cheek. “You’re growing our baby, Sweetheart. That’s a pretty big deal.”

“I know,” you murmur, tears leaking from your eyes. “I’m not good at slowing down.” You can usually push yourself to your limits with minimal consequences, but it seems like those days are behind you. 

Eddie tilts your chin so you’re looking directly at him. His expression isn’t as hard; a faint smirk of understanding graces his lips. “And I love how driven you are. But your mission for the next nine months—should you choose to accept it—is to incubate Baby Munson.”

“Incubate?” You wrinkle your nose as his phrasing. 

“Incubate,” he affirms with a kiss to your nose. “Now, why don’t you go check on Harris, and I’ll start dinner.” His hand rests on the small of your back. “I was just gonna roast some chicken breasts, if that works for you?” It’s a quick and easy dinner that you have once a week. 

But it looks like it might be off the menu for a bit; your eyes bulge and your palm flies to your mouth as soon as you imagine the varying textures of meat and skin. 

“On second thought,” Eddie mutters, plucking a Surfer Boy pamphlet from the kitchen drawer, “maybe we’ll do pizza tonight.”

--

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; 8

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

The door was fixed with great haste. Before you knew it, you were back in the apartment playing housewife again. Coriolanus’s distrust of you grew to a new level. He no longer trusted you to remain home by yourself. Edmund was still not found, and Coriolanus was certain he would reappear and take you away.

You now worked with him, slept with him, and ate every meal with him. The fence line seemed like an impossible goal with him being so suffocating. You were pretty sure the broken chain was not found. He would have said something, would have taunted you with how close your freedom was. It meant you had something up your sleeve against him.

But you had no way of getting to it. You had tried to disappear during his work hours, when he was most distracted, but the only time you seemed to be out of his sight was when you showered. If there had been a window in the bathroom, you were sure that he would have been in there too.

You tried your best to soften him with affection. When you had the chance, you baked him the oatmeal cookies he loves. He ate whole plates in one sitting.

But as his work increased, your work decreased. Long days spent at his office were hard to fill. He sat behind his desk and never seemed to stop working. Sometimes there was mending you could do, or shoes to shine but most of the day you sat on the couch reading what was on hand.

You had taken to organizing the books in alphabetical order, then grouped them according to color. You worked quietly and slowly. Careful not to make any noise to disturb Coriolanus from his work. You had taken them down again just moments ago to reorganize them by subject when Coriolanus' assistant came in carrying a tea tray and a large parcel. 

She drops the parcel down on the table in front of you, amongst the books. You look over it to see your name neatly scribbled on the recipient's information. 

The receptionist doesn’t look at you as she puts the tea tray in front of Coriolanus. 

He thanks her but her response is drowned out to your ears by the opening of the box. 

“Is it from Tigris?” 

You wait until the receptionist shuts the door behind her to respond. 

You confirmed it was, as you pulled a soft silk nightdress from the box. It was light pink which was uncommon for the districts. Dark pink lace trimming boarded along the bottom and top of the dress. You run your finger across it. It was the most expensive material you had ever felt. 

Another dress was folded in the box and you take it out. 

It was light blue with yellow birds flying across it, made of a soft cotton material that would fall around your ankles. 

“You like them?” he asks.

“They are beautiful,” you admit. 

You look in the box for more to see a small pouch filled with sweets from the Capitol. 

Tigris was too kind. If things had been different, you would have been a good friend to her. But as her cousin's captive, you were now sworn enemies. The box of treats didn’t change that. 

You return the items to the box and see parchment paper protecting soft material at the bottom. 

“There's a shirt for you.” It was a long white dress shirt with gold stitching running in horizontal lines down it. 

He comes from his desk to collect it. Taking it gently from your hands, he brings it up to his nose and inhales the scent. 

“You really miss home,” you comment, watching him breathe in the scent the shirt carried. 

“I do. More than anything.” He returns to his desk with it still in his hands. 

“You’ll be home soon.” 

“We’ll be home soon”. 

You smile thinly at him. “That’s what I said.” 

“You should see the Capitol. Clothing, culture. Actual buildings, not these pieces of tin. You’ll be able to breathe much better in the Capitol.” 

The scratching of his pen picked up where his sentence had been incomplete as he began his work again. The shirt lay across his lap. 

“I have the day off tomorrow,” he said without stopping his work, “I was thinking we could visit the waterfall again. It will probably be the last time before Ravinstill dies.” 

The thought made your stomach drop. If you don’t make it beyond the fence, it would in fact be the last time you ever saw your favorite place. The time was better spent within the compound waiting for an opportunity. He would never let you get too far in the district. 

“I’d prefer not to.” 

“Why?” he questions with a hard tone. He continued to write but the pen pressed firmly into the paper. 

“I am behind on my chores, and I haven’t made anything in a while. The food in the fridge will go bad if I don’t get to it soon.” 

“Let it. The Capitol is full of food.”

You realize now that Coriolanus had already made up his mind to do the activity. You wondered why he chose it. He hated the heat and the bugs. 

You walk over to the tray of hot tea and pour out a cup, making it to his liking and placing it down in front of him. 

“We’ll go if you want to.” 

“Why don’t you want to go?”

“Why do you want to? The walk up there will take us nearly the whole morning in the hot sun.” 

“I thought it might make you happy.” 

He was trying to win your approval before he ripped everything you had ever known from your finger tips. It was something to use against him. Coriolanus responded best when he was in a position to be a hero. He would do anything so long as he felt he was the only one who could do it for you. 

You lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your face against his neck. 

“You know what would make me happy? Some vanilla extract so I can send Tigris some shortbread cookies back”.

He responds positively by wrapping his hands around your forearms. He liked you looking out for Tigris. 

“She’s been asking to meet you.” He says, his hand gently wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “I have a call with them next Friday afternoon. Maybe you’d like to come with.” 

You retract your hold now that he was in a better mood. 

There was only one answer you could give him when it came to his family. 

“I’d love to”. 

You had a deep hate for Capitol people but Tigris seems different. In any case, you were sure you could remain civil for an hour-long phone call. 

Pouring yourself a cup of tea, you return to your spot with it and Coriolanus returns to his work. 

———- 

 You stood out in the sun with Coriolanus as he discussed the new recruits' performance with another high-ranking officer. They were splitting them up into areas of work. The strong and fast became foot soldiers, the slow were put on kitchen duty, and the ones who showed a inclination to aggression were watchmen. He spared a couple to the infantry to learn basic medic care and help around the hospital. You couldn't work out what sent those recruits apart. It seemed random but you knew nothing Coriolanus did was without great care and strategy.

All the men seemed equally angry and you wondered if Coriolanus was the same when he was a Peacekeeper. 

The sun felt nice upon your skin after so long. It was late afternoon and it had just begun to set, leaving behind a nice cool breeze. 

You thought about your mother and Edmund. Were they enjoying the sun too? 

The sound of a vehicle approaching ruined the moment of reflection. Coriolanus took your hand in his as soon as the tires upon the gravel could be heard as if you were to be run over if he didn’t. 

It surprisingly stopped in front of where you stood. A transport car with no doors and a large trunk carried two men. A younger man wearing a District 12 peacekeeper uniform and an older man who wore a Commander uniform set apart by its light purplish color. 

“Commander.” The older man greets as he swings out of the car. 

“Vongurt.” Coriolanus uses his spare hand to offer a handshake which is strongly and fervently taken. 

Another Commander had come to see Coriolanus. You doubted he was any better than the last. 

“This is my wife, Y/N.” With his hand, he leads you in front of him to show you off to the Commander.

You were stiff with shock as the man's disapprovingly raked his eyes over you. He too felt jarred at the label of wife. District women weren’t wives. They were barely considered human.

But he smiles nonetheless, something you couldn’t return.

“Pleasure.” With a kiss placed upon your hand, the Commander's attention was turned back to Coriolanus.

 “Your compound is impressive, Commander Snow. It has to be the largest I’ve seen.” 

Coriolanus seemed unimpressed by the comment. He turns back to the Peacekeepers watching them as they leap, and fight. 

“A palace of scrap metal.” 

He waves over a tall man in a high-ranking uniform, who quickly makes his way over from across the field. 

“Your apartment is only slightly better. Sergeant AJ will take you there.” 

“I was hoping that we could talk. I’ve come all this way from District 2.”

“Later, Commander. The conference room at 7. You’ll have my undivided attention there.” 

The man nods back and follows his guide back into the car. 

Coriolanus makes a comment to his officer about a recruit and the man jotted down all of his thoughts. 

You wanted to get away. Break free from his hold and bolt to the fence line. His delusions had reached a new height, with him now openly telling lies to men with power. 

Your body moves to your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized you were twisting your hand away from him until he tightened his hold. 

He turns to you, asking if you are ok. 

“I need to go home” you respond. Home to my mother. Back home to normalcy. 

“Take whoever we missed today and regroup them tomorrow morning” he directs the man next to him. A whistle is blown and the recruits stop their training, instead they congregate in front of you. 

Coriolanus turns as his officer begins to dish out instructions, taking you back to the apartment. 

“The heat can get to you,” he says. 

You had lived in District 12 all your life if anyone was to know about the heat it was you. But you verbally agree and apologize for taking him away from his work. 

He hushes you and it ends the conversation for the walk home. 

He lets you go as you enter your prison, and you take off without him to the bedroom. 

You hear his voice wafting down the hallway telling you to lie down. You shove your boots off and get into bed. Every day your window closes. It won’t be long before either the broken fence is found or you are carted off on the train. 

But he had called you his wife. Not just to anyone but a Capitol Commander. Even if you got away, the idea that he would leave you here for the presidency is just a fantasy. 

How long would you need to live in hiding before he forgot you? Could you bear the costs of it for as long as needed? What work could you do in the mountains to support yourself and your mother? 

Wife. Why did he have to say wife? You weren’t that. You were his captive, a victim of his need to be cared for. 

Coriolanus enters the room with a wet, cold rag and runs it over your forehead. A victim of his need to pretend he was capable of caring for something. 

He sits on the bed beside you running the cloth over your forehead and into your hair. 

“Do you feel alright?” he asks as you take the cloth off him. 

“I am fine. Just a little lightheaded.” You throw the cloth on the bed stand and he takes it as a signal to get up. 

“I’ll get you some water.”

He disappears and you're thankful for the space to think. Could you tell him you just need a walk around the compound by yourself to think? No, he would take it as an insult. 

You had to get out. The fence was so close. 

You don’t notice him as he sits back down beside you. Only the glass to your lips made you see him. 

“I won’t go to the meeting with Vongurt if you are unwell.” 

You sit up straighter at his words, pushing the glass away from you. 

“No!” you say harshly, “No, you should go. I am fine.” 

“You don’t look well.” You were sure you looked terrible after you had the shock of your life. 

“But I feel fine. Just too much sun.” 

He looked annoyed that you were arguing with him so you switched tactics. 

“We need his support to get back to the Capitol. Maybe you could just leave the door open for some fresh air?” 

You had pushed too hard, and he got up

“If I am not here, the door is shut.”

“Of course,” you breathe with a soft smile at him, “I’ll be fine by the time you have to leave.”

Coriolanus hovered around you for the next hour and a half before he had to start getting ready for his meeting. He took a shower to wash the sweat off him from the day and changed into his official outfit. It fit snugly, his broad shoulders carried the uniform well. 

He attached the dressings of his uniform as you watched him from the bed. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight. What if you feel unwell while I am away?” His fingers were still on the badge he was trying to put on. 

“I am fine,” you assure him, “I feel fine.” 

“We should invite him here. That way if you need me, I am here.” 

You cringed at the thought of serving Commander Vongurt. 

“I won’t need you. Besides the conference room is much nicer.” You get up to help him put on his badge and send him on his way. 

“I haven’t felt unwell since dinner.” Coriolanus stood over you as you cooked, convinced that the heat in the kitchen would make you unwell again. With a knife in your hand, it was a dangerous time for Coriolanus to tell you what to do.

“You’re sure?” he pokes. 

You were tired of saying it so you just nodded your head. 

“Go to the bathroom then.” 

It was an odd request. 

“What?” you question. 

“Go to the bathroom and take a shower. Get changed into your night dress.”

He checks his watch once before motioning you forward. 

There was no other option for you then to follow his request. You thought maybe he just wanted to complete the bed time routine. He wanted to know you were washed and dressed for bed for his own comfort. You never knew what made him tick. 

You complete the tasks quickly and return to find he had placed a glass of water and a packet of dried mixed fruit.

You quiz him on it but he doesn’t answer. He takes your wrist in his hand and tugs you to the bed.

Taking out his handcuffs, he clips your wrist into the cuff, pulling it up to the headboard where he attached the other cuff. 

You tug against it in protest. “What are you doing?”

“Just in case, Edmund comes back.”

“He won’t! Please unlock me.” you beg. 

“I left your book there if you are not ready to sleep yet.” He stands tall and readjusts his uniform. 

“Coriolanus!” You say in a serious tone, “Get this off of me.”

You pull against it brutally and he captures your hand against the headboard. 

“I left you one hand so you can read. I don’t have to.” 

“Please, don’t leave me here like this!” He ignores you, bending down once more to flick on the lamp. 

“You’ve had a big day. Try and rest. I’ll be home soon.” 

“Coriolanus!” you call out watching him leave. He flicks off the main light as he goes. 

“Coriolanus!” you yell. 

You had never felt anger as you lay trapped in bed. He dictated when you worked, when you rested, when you ate. Nothing was yours anymore. Every breath you took was only because he allowed you to take it. 

There was nothing to tell the time on. It felt like years waiting for him to come back and release you. You didn’t read, only plotted. 

Could you feed him something to make him sick? Surely he would request you to come see him in the infirmary. You could break away when returning from your visit. What if he caught you trying to poison him though? 

Friday provided the perfect opportunity. While he was distracted with his family you could sneak away. The communication building was on the other side of the compound but at least you would be outside of the apartment. 

But how would you get away far enough to make a break for it? You thought about what was in the surrounding area of the communications building. Nothing would be a reasonable excuse to pardon yourself. 

Could you excuse yourself to the bathroom? Surely one of the surrounding offices would have one. Would he let you go alone? Sacrifice time with his family to take you. Would he even let you go or just expect you to make do until the phone call was over? 

You came up with twenty different scenarios of escape routes, each one ended with Coriolanus catching you. 

You wished you didn’t shoo Edmund away now. He could have got the door opened in time. It was only your fearfulness that stood in the way of your escape. You could be with him now, with your mother. Up in the mountains, safe and sound. 

God, you hoped they were safe and well-fed. 

You wished for nothing more than to tend to your mother, to ensure that she was alright. 

The care that was supposed to go to her was now unjustly turned towards Coriolanus, who was adamant to wring it from your hands. 

Edmund had always taken whatever care you gave him with great appreciation. 

Never demanded more, and then took it with force. 

He was kind and patient. Two things Coriolanus is not. 

And now you have dragged him into this mess where his life is at great risk. Still, he had never demanded any more from you. 

When his lips first met yours, they were placed almost in questioning. It was up to you to accept and beg for more. 

You wished you had seen his affection for you sooner. But he was your brother's best friend, and the main protector of you and your mother. If Coriolanus never entered the picture you doubt he ever would have acted on it. 

But he had, and you had returned the affection. It was the start of something new and beautiful or the end of years of friendship and familiarity. 

Once Coriolanus went back to the Capitol, your new life would begin. 

You hoped it would be alongside Edmund. You would pay him back for his bravery.

You would be a good girlfriend to him, then wife, and then mother of his children. You would never ask him for anything, and take great care of his family life. You would ensure his happiness, as he ensures your life now. 

You almost forget you were chained to the bed of the Commander as you daydream of brown-haired babies. But the sound of Coriolanus arriving home was a solemn reminder. His boots against the hardwood floor soften as they reach the bedroom door. 

You still had a great challenge before you got to nurse Edmund’s children. 

You had to get away from Coriolanus, and the only way you could do that is if he had no idea that you planned to. 

The door creaks open and you sit up straight to watch him enter. 

“I am sorry. Did I wake you?” He places his coat on the foot of the bed and crawls over to where you lay. 

“No. I was waiting for you.”

He smiles down at you as he unlocks the cuff from your wrist with the keys in his pocket.

“You seem happy,” you comment. You could smell the whiskey on his clothes as he leaned over you.

“I am. I have you. I have Commander Vongurt’s support behind me, and Ravinstill is not expected to last the winter. We’ll be home before you know it.”

Throwing the keys on his bedside table, he leans down to kiss you before resting his head on your collarbone.

“That’s not long,” you comment. 

“Three months at the most.”

You drowned in your anxiety quietly as he rested. 

Three months and your life was over. 

 He takes your silence as a quiet contemplation. 

“Are you thinking of your mother?” he runs a curled finger along your nose.

“Yeah. I’ll miss her”. You hope to never have to know the pain of missing her again. These past few weeks have been unbearable.

“You’ll write. I’ll organize a time she can come to the compound for video calls.”

You were sure he was going to let you write and call. For how long was another thing. You could see it already, your calls being cut short, your letters ‘lost’ in the mail.

“Yeah,” you respond again.

Your mind races with ideas of escape. You could fake a sickness and be sent to the medical camp. No, he wouldn’t send you there. He panicked today over a supposed case of heatstroke. 

He lowers his head down closer to you where you can smell the evening on him.

“You want to know what I was thinking?” he asks playfully.

You could start a fire during dinner time. He was sure to open the door to let you out before dealing with the flames.

“Yeah?” you entertain. Fire could go wrong for a number of reasons. Besides you would have to fight your way to the oven. Especially now that Commander Vongurt was here. Coriolanus would be too busy to wait for you to cook something.

“I was thinking I hope we have a boy first. Then two girls, then another boy.”

Your eyes shoot open as his hand reaches out across your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt and he lays a warm palm over your belly.

Then again, a big enough fire might kill him. Was it worth a shot?

“You called me your wife today. That’s not true.”

“What else should I have called you? We sleep together, eat together, wake together. We look after each other. The only thing missing is an official title but as soon as we get back to the Capitol, we’ll fix that.”

You turn away from him to your side. Now that the talk of the Capitol was becoming a more serious threat, you felt sick.

“Did I scare you with talk of babies? It wouldn’t be for a few more years yet.”

His rants did scare you. That would be your life if you didn’t figure out a way to the fence. Nursing Commander Snow’s babies in the Capitol. Away from your mother. Away from Edmund.

Still, you had to perform. You couldn’t let any more distrust between him and you grow. 

“You didn’t scare me. I am just tired. I’ve waited up all night for you.”

You feel a soft kiss press against your ear before the weight of the bed was shifted as he moved.

“Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He leans over you once more to flick off the light. You hear him walk out to the bathroom to take a shower.

Could you force him to give you the keys? The chain was still dangling from the headboard. If you could somehow get his wrist caught, you could threaten him with a kitchen knife. You shake the thought from your head. You couldn’t hurt him with a knife. You were sure even one-handedly, he could take it off you if you tried.

You just needed a distraction, just two seconds when his attention wasn’t on you to escape.

Wet, salty tears rolled down your cheeks as you lay in the dark, but you made no sound.

You were still awake when he returned from his shower, dressed in his pajamas. Thinking you are asleep he is slow and quiet as he rejoins you in bed.

He curls up against your back and rests his hand on your stomach as if there is something already inside. He wasn’t going to wait a few more years. He said it purely for your comfort.

He dreamt of being a young President with a baby on the way. And another one close after that, and another, and another. He would undo history. He would have as many baby Coriolanus’s and Tigris’ as it took to heal the past.

Watching you nurture, feed, and play with his children would overtake his memories of fighting for his life when he should have been nursed by his mother.

He felt as if he was in the area but soon to be crowned Victor. President Ravinstill just had to die before he could have it all.

His destiny that had been interrupted when his father died but was now back on track. From birth, Coriolanus Snow was supposed to be the man who had it all. Not some impoverished boy, hanging on to his father’s legacy.

When he died, he would be remembered as his own man. Not as the shadow of his father.

Coriolanus Snow; Beloved President of Panem, star pupil of the Academy, Plinth Prize winner, devoted husband and father, and Victor of the games. Coriolanus would be remembered as the man who had it all.

You lay awake under him. The smell of alcohol mixed with the scent of his soap. It burnt your nose as you inhaled. 

 President Ravinstill could die tonight. There was no guarantee that he would even make it to winter. You had to get out. If you made it to the Capitol, you would never get back home. 

While he was intoxicated was your best chance. He seemed so still now, you could take the keys off the nightstand and go through everyone. You were sure he wouldn’t wake, not until it was too late. You remember when your father drank on special occasions, he would sleep for 14 hours at a time. Coriolanus was sure to sleep for at least half that. 

You wait until you can’t feel him twitch before you rise from bed. Very slowly, very carefully, you peel yourself from him, shoving a pillow in your place. He doesn’t move from your actions so you continue over to his nightstand where his key ring is laid. 

Rows and rows of keys looped together. They jingle as you pick them up. Panic runs like ice up your spin as you turn back to see Coriolanus; unmoved and unknowing. 

You wrap your hand around as many keys as you can to stop further noise and make your way to the door. Checking every few steps to ensure he wouldn’t turn up behind you. 

The floor creeks as you pass the hallways to the living room but no other sound follows as you cross the kitchen to the door. 

You start at the very first key. It slots in but refuses to turn. Moving on to the next, and the next in methodological order, bypassing the ones that were too big or small to be entertained. 

You try numerous times but the right key is buried among the many. 

Feeling as if it had been hours since the first key, you felt confident that it was coming up. 

You stuck a key in with no resistance. The hope that died in you reappeared as the lock turned with the key. 

But all too soon it died again, as you felt a hand snake into your hair. It yanks your head harshly back and you find yourself pressed against Coriolanus. 

“That key will get stuck in the door, and it’d be a great pain to get it out again.” 

His hand in your hair pulls you back. 

“I was just going to the kitchen to get some ingredients for a hangover cure. I was coming back.” His hand twists unforgivably in your hair as you make your plea. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he seethes. 

“I am not!” You protest, trying to break free from his grasp. 

“You think I am some type of fool?” 

 Reaching over you, he takes the keys out of the door and leads you back to the bedroom. 

“Coriolanus. Please just listen to me.” 

“If I had listened to you, I would have left the door opened. You spoiled, deceiving, little bitch.” 

He was still drunk. You could smell it from his breath. 

You thought it would make him complacent but it instead made him more violent. 

“I was getting you my father's hangover cure.” 

You stumble as he pushes you over the doorway. 

“You need to trust me, Coriolanus.” 

He shoves you until you are back to your side of the bed. 

“I don’t.”

He throws the keys hard across the room to free his hands. 

“I trust you.” You don’t fight him as he recuffs your chain, instead you willingly go along with it. 

For good measure, you place a kiss on his cheek which throws him off guard. 

“I don’t trust you.” he reiterated softly. 

“That’s ok,” you state, “One day you will. We’ll have a happy life together. You, me, and our children.” 

He looks perplexed at your words but makes no further comment as he lays down by your side, resting his head on you. 

“I’ve tried my best to take care of you. To make you happy.”

“You have.” you console. You were no longer worried about President Ravinstill lasting the night, but rather yourself. 

“Then why-”

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to take care of you.” 

His face turns into your skin. You bring your free hand up to his head and press it down. 

“Everything is ok. Just go to sleep. You’re drunk. You don’t mean it.” 

You run your fingertips up and down starting from behind his ear, down to the bottom of his neck, and up again. You do it until you feel his shallow breaths upon your skin, only then do you release the tears from your eyes.

When you wake the next morning, your wrist is free and Coriolanus is not in bed. 

You rise to find him in the kitchen, frying bacon. Maybe he was too intoxicated last night to remember his anger towards you.

“Good morning,” you offer. He doesn’t return the greeting. Maybe he did remember last night, and you were in a lot of trouble. 

“How are you feeling?” you try again. 

“What’s your father's hangover cure?”

“Two eggs, hot sauce, milk, salt, pepper, and honey”. Your father did not have a hangover cure and it did not include hot sauce or honey, both of which were considered luxury items in the District. 

He looks for the ingredients, slamming the cupboards he turns towards you. “All here.”

“Oh,” you comment, “That’s good. Did you want me to make you one?”

The bacon pops in the pan and you rush over to distract yourself with it. 

“Sit down. I’ll take over cooking”. The bacon was overcooked to the point where it would be barely edible. 

“So what did you need for the compound kitchen last night?”

“I didn’t know we had the items. It's been that long since I cooked, I just assumed we were out.” 

“You assumed you wouldn’t get caught.” 

You sigh. Coriolanus in a bad mood would only mean bad things for you. 

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to help. Are you always going to doubt me?”

“Yes.” he answers, pulling the pan back off you. 

He dumps the bacon onto a plate and takes it to the kitchen table. You begin to clean up after him as he sits and eats. 

The plate is still full by the time he is telling you to go get ready for the day. 

You put on the blue sun dress he likes which acts as a two-second buffer for his anger when he sees you. 

He had paused in the middle of throwing his bacon into the trash. Such a waste of food. You thought. 

But he was determined to stay in his mood. He slides the empty plate across the counter. 

“I am late for work,” he says. 

It was unusual for him not to hold your hand as you walked to his office. You would have to work hard today to please him. 

His tea was already sat upon his desk when you arrived and you rushed to pour him one.

He doesn’t drink it. It goes cold as he does his work. 

You try extra hard to be quiet.  There was sewing left from yesterday which you begin to complete. 

“We still haven’t found your mother,” he says out of the blue after a morning of not speaking or looking at you. 

His words filled you with confidence. If you could get to the mountains, at least you knew you were safe.

He doesn’t look up as he speaks. 

“Edmund hasn’t returned to his house but there was a rumor that he was swapping meat for medical supplies just yesterday.”

What would he need medical supplies for? You wondered. Was your mother okay? Was he okay?

You needed to see them to make sure.

“He’s probably hiding with your mother in what’s left of the forest. Don’t worry. We’ll find him and bring your mother home.”

It was a disguised threat. He was trying to get a rise out of you. 

“Good,” you comment. Keep searching the forest while they remain safe in the mountains.

“Good.” he repeats back.

A comfortable silence returns as you both go back to work, but it’s interrupted by his secretary bursting through the doors.

“Sir! Sir!” she gasps. Coriolanus shot up from his chair.

“Commander Vongurt is angry!”

You follow him without a word out of the office.

“The courtyard!” the secretary directs.

You fall behind his fast pace and reach for him blindly to keep from falling too far behind.

A crowd had formed by the time you reached the courtyard. You could hear the familiar sound of flogging and painful cries.

The crowd parts as Coriolanus approaches. In the middle of the bystanders was Commander Vongurt and a young boy curled on the dirt floor.

Coriolanus looks upon the same boy who failed to hit the target on the hot day.

Grabbing the baton from the Commander, he throws it to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Commander Snow,” Vongurt was out of breath from exerting himself in his beating, “This boy is a disgrace to your legacy. I caught him passing scraps to the prisoners through the bars.”

With the protection of Coriolanus, you felt safe enough to speak out, “He’s just a boy.”

“Take him to the jail. He can sleep there for a week if he likes their company so much.”

“Coriolanus!” you take his arm and tug it. He gives you a harsh look and you know you won’t be able to persuade him.

The boy cries out and begins to beg as he is carted away by two others.

“Coriolanus, please!” You tug his arm once more and he hits you harshly across the cheek.  

You stumble upon the impact. The men shuffle away from you as you try and regain your footing. 

Coriolanus takes your arm in a harsh grip, pulling you back in the right direction but he is turned to speak to Vonngurt.

“District 12 is my district. Next time you feel like taking discipline into your own hands, don’t.”

The older Commander nods his head, but you can see he is displeased to have been spoken to in such a manner.

“Let’s go.” He was now talking to you and shoving you forcefully in front of himself back to the office.

You tear yourself free as the door shuts behind you.

“You don’t dictate my decisions.”

Your nose is clogged from your tears. You couldn’t tell if you were crying out of pain or anger. Your brain was still trying to catch up.

“Calling my name,” he says astonished, “It doesn’t matter if you disagree with my decision. Your job is to support me.”

He catches you as you try to make your way from him and he tosses you to the couch, where he stands over you. 

“You embarrassed me. Vongurt already thinks I can’t control my Peacekeepers, now he thinks I can’t control my women as well.”

You cup your bruised cheek. This wasn’t about Vongurt. He was still hurting about your attempt last night. All day he was looking for a reason to lash out, Vongurt only provided the opportunity. 

You were put back on defense. With only at most a month before you were carted off to the Capitol, mistakes couldn’t be afforded.

“I am sorry.” you choke out.  

He squinted his eyes, bringing his hand up to his head before throwing it back again, “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” you spit. There is no sincerity in your voice. 

“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He takes your chin into his hand and pulls it up to his eye level. “Ravinstill is expected to die shortly. This behavior of yours cannot be brought back to the Capitol.”

“It won’t be. I am sorry.” Your fists clench by your side.

He turns your chin to expect your cheek. 

“I did it too. That’s the only reason I spoke out. I would have been thrown in jail too.” you contend.  

He lets go of your chin and stands up to full height, “You think a Peacekeeper would get the same punishment as a District? No. You would have been hanged. Yet another reason to be loyal to me. I’ve saved you.”

“I am loyal to you. Grateful for you.” You get up and follow him as he makes his way to his desk. 

“Coriolanus, please don’t be mad at me. I was only ever trying to help.” 

You sob ugly causing him to spin around. Your cheek hurt, and you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders trying to get away within such a short time frame. You were overwhelmed with the whole scenario and the thought of dealing with Coriolanus as he looked for opportunities to lash out was too much to bear. 

He softens upon your unraveled composure, taking you into his arms. 

“Stop crying. It’s okay”. You feel him rest his head on top of yours. “I am just a little wound up trying to get everything in order. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I am sorry.” 

You smile slightly, he is back on defense. 

—------

Friday came quickly. The call wasn’t until the afternoon so you spent the whole day as a ball of anxiety. 

But at least you had a plan. On evening walks you took more notice of the building surrounding the communications tent, and saw a nurse carrying a load of blankets into a building of washing machines. 

There were few things Coriolanus let you do alone, washing was one of them.

The washing machine in the apartment would need to be dealt with. But the long hours spent in his office meant that the dirty clothes were piling up. He would demand a fresh uniform for work. If you left it close to his phone call with his family, he was sure to let you go. 

You push it out for as long as you can. He had wanted to leave ten minutes ago but you kept pressing him for one more minute. 

You had taken small rocks from the ground during your afternoon walk, telling Coriolanus you would like to take a part of home back to the Capitol with you. He had allowed you to collect a small jar, you picked the biggest rocks you could find. 

Big enough to jam the pipes of the washing machine. 

“Darling, please. We have to leave.” He bangs on the door of the washing room. 

You finish shoving the rocks as far as they would go down the pipe. It made an awful sound as the washing machine ate them up causing the water to rise. 

“Coriolanus,” you call. As soon as you open the door, he grabs your arm, ready to yank you out. 

“Coriolanus. The machine is broken. Look.”

He barely glaces at it, “ I’ll send someone to fix it. Let’s go.” 

“I need to do the washing,” you pick up the basket as he pulls you from the room, “Can I use the compound washing machines?”

“That’s fine. Just move, we are late.” 

You struggle to keep up with him as he rushes along the compound. He hated it if his phone call was cut short by even a second. Now he was two minutes late and he was almost running to make up time for it. 

You reach the building in record time. He lets go of you to pick up speed, leaving you by the door as he hurries.

He rushes to the small screen, not bothering to sit down on the wooden chair as he twisted the knobs. “Tigris, Tigris? Can you hear me?” 

He must have heard a voice on the other side as he broke out into a smile. It was a pretty, genuine smile that you had not seen before. 

“Hey,’’ he laughs.  You watch from where you stand by the door. He seemed almost unrecognizable. A young boy sent away to a summer camp instead of a ruthless and ambitious Commander. “I am sorry. The washing machine broke. How are you?”

His tone is light and happy as he talks to Tigris. You wonder if he had forgotten he even brought you. He didn’t glance at you as he spoke, giving her his full attention. 

You wonder if it is best to make your exit now but his words stop you.

“She’s here.” he waves you over. You drop the basket in coming to him. You wondered what Tigris would look like. What she would sound like. 

Coriolanus holds out the receiver for you. You peer at the screen to see a blonde girl in colorful clothing before you put the receiver to your ear. 

“Hello,” you greet. 

“Oh!” Tigris croons. She pulls the receiver away from her mouth to lessen her shout, “Grandma’am come see!”

She smiles as she turns her attention back to you, “Oh, Coryo has talked so much about you.”

“What is she saying?” Coriolanus places his hands on your hip and pulls down so you are sitting on his knee. 

“She’s said you’ve talked about me,” you answer. 

He smiles gently at you, turning the receiver in your hand out between you. 

An older woman comes too close into the frame and Tigris pulls her back. 

“Is that her?” the old woman asks Tigris who nods. 

“Girl-Girl.” she talks into the speaker. 

“Yes, Ma’am?” 

“You must be grateful he is sending you back to the Capitol. Don’t ruin it like the last one.” 

Coriolanus snatches the receiver away from your ear to soften her words but you heard them any way. 

“Grandma’am is unwell,” he tells you, “Pay her no mind.” 

Tigris takes back the receiver and positions it in a similar fashion to Coriolanus. 

“Did you get the dresses I sent?” 

“I did. Thank you. I was hoping to send you back some shortbread but Coriolanus has been busy with work.” 

“He was saying you cook. Grandma’am and I are so excited to meet you!” 

“Me too,” you lie. “I hear the Capitol is wonderful. I look forward to exploring it with you.” 

Tigris laughs. She was beautiful, you thought. Perhaps too popular to be showing you the capital. You felt foolish for even lying about it. 

“We’ll have a ball. I’ll show you all around.” 

“In time,” Coriolanus interjects. The chains around you would not loosen just because you were in the Capitol. “The Capitol is big. There’ll be time to see it all.” 

You let Coriolanus take over the talking. Only offering agreements or soft smiles as the Snow women talk. 

The family soon falls into a comfortable way of talking. You had said next to nothing for the last 10 minutes, and it had gone unnoticed. It was time to make your way. 

You slowly rise from Coriolanus who latches out on your arm. 

“I’ll just put the washing on. That way it will be done by the time we finish.” 

He tugs you back down causing you to fall into him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Tigris almost cringe. 

“We’ll do it later,” he demands. 

“We’ll be washing well into the night if we leave it any longer. I’ll just pop it on. I’ll be five minutes.”

His face twisted with his words but you kissed him to stop them from leaving his mouth. It was the first time you had ever kissed him on the lips. You could tell by the way his mouth stilled that he was surprised. 

“Five minutes.” You kiss his bottom lip to quell any fight he has in him. Grabbing the phone in the meantime. 

“Tigris. Grandma. I’ll just be 5 Minutes to put the washing on”.

Tigris smiles at you, letting you know that it is fine. You could just barely hear Grandma’am make a comment about how the people in the Capitol don't do their own washing but it is cut off by you shoving the phone back in Coriolanus's hand. 

He cups your face to bring you down for another kiss. 

“Five minutes,” he repeats. 

You smile at him as you pull away. It was too easy, You had won. 

It felt like victory as you picked up the basket and placed it on your hip. You turn back halfway out the door to see he has gone back to talking to his family. 

You don’t make it to the tent. Five steps away from the door and you had dropped the basket and taken off at a fast pace. 

You walk to try not to draw attention to yourself. It worked for the most part. Hardly anyone gave you a glance. You could see the bins coming into sight. Your freedom is just behind them. 

“Hey!” you hear someone call out. You ignore them at first, not thinking they could mean you. But a harsh hold on your arm spun you towards a Peacekeeper. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“What? Nothing”. Your freedom lay not ten feet away but was hindered by a zealous guard. 

“Where’s Commander Snow?” He held you too tight. It interfered with your clear thinking. 

“The communications tent.” 

“Is that where you should be?”

“No,” you try and tug your arm away from him but his nails dig in. “Let go of me. Let go!” 

“Let’s go ask Commander Snow what you should be doing.” The man starts to drag you along as you dig your feet into the dirt. 

“Let go!” you shout. He was sure to notice you gone soon if he hadn’t already. Time was running out. 

In frustration, you slap the Peacekeeper across the face. 

“How dare you touch me. I’ll tell Commander Snow about this. You’ve hurt me. 

You feel his grip loosen on you but he doesn’t let go completely. 

“No, I haven’t!” he says somewhat fearfully, 

“Commander Snow has asked me to get something for him, and not only have you stopped me from doing that but you hurt me in the process. How do you think he will react to that?” 

You manage to tear free from him and give yourself some distance. 

“I am going to do as he asked me, and you are going to do your duties like you should be doing. Otherwise, I’ll report you to the Commander." 

The Peacekeeper mulls over his course of action before raising his hands.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Excuse me.” 

You turn your back on him and quicken your steps to your destination. Making sure the coast is clear, you crawl behind the large bins. You couldn’t see any broken fence behind it. 

Did they find it? Have you just made a fatal mistake?

You continue to crawl, placing your hand on the metal for any movement. 

The chain bends showing cut wire as they bend. Relief washing through you. 

It digs harshly into you as you pull yourself through. 

You could have kissed the dirt on the other side. Freedom. Edmund. 

The guard in the tower above you looks out across the field. You keep under his eyesight as you slide across the fence as quietly as you can. 

It runs out, leaving ten feet of open field before the safety of the forest. Ten feet and then you were free. There was no cover, meaning that the guard could easily spot you if he was looking. 

You say a silent prayer that the guard will keep his focus straight before you take the chance of discovery. 

You leap across the field, throwing yourself upon the first tree you touch. The bark smashed your bruised cheek as you waited for the sirens to sound. 

He mustn’t have seen you. You had got away. 

You take a second to laugh as quietly as you can. Run, a voice in your head told you. You regain your breath and do. You run as fast as you can, taking the backroads back to your home. 

Your lungs burn, willing you to stop but you keep going until your house is in view. You only slow down to stop drawing attention to yourself. 

People had started to return home from work. You could see them as you walked along the back of their houses. You're careful not to be seen. 

The back steps of your place come under your feet, and your caution disappears as you fling yourself into your home. 

Edmund was sitting at the kitchen table dressing a rabbit he caught. 

He stood up. Turning his knife towards you thinking you were an intruder. 

You knew he would never hurt you so you throw your arms around his shoulders despite the threat. 

The knife drops and he takes you into his arms. 

“I was so worried.” he breathed. 

“We have to go. We need to leave,” you state but make no attempt to pull away. 

He does pull away, throwing the rabbit into his hunting sack and picking up his knife. You take his bloody hand and he leads you back out the back door and into the forest. 

The walk to the mountains takes well into the night. You both do it silently. What was there to say? There was still a long road to safety. 

You stay as close as you could to him. Always holding his hand or latched onto his arm. 

The mountain trail is tough and you wonder how he made it up with your mother on his back. He knew the way well, having worked in the mines nearly all his life. He warned you of which boulders were loose, and when you tripped over he caught you as if he almost expected it. 

You were worn out by the time you reached the campsite. Rows and rows of small wooden houses for the miners. All were empty this time of year as it got too dark too early and not light enough too late for the hours they worked. 

You saw a freshly put-out fire and knew that your mother was close. 

“Your mothers in that one,” he pointed to the right cabin, “My family’s in the next one.” 

For the first time in the hour's walk, you tore free from him and ran into your mother's cabin. 

It was a relief to see her sleeping figure. You throw yourself on top of her and begin crying.  

She wakes in fright but knows the figure of her daughter well. She throws her arms around you and joins you in crying. 

You were home. You were safe. 

—---------

As soon as the door closed, Coriolanus felt as if he had made a mistake. He trusted you.

You were better now. Doing well. He could trust you. 

But Tigris’s words made no sense to him. You were coming back. 

He tried to focus on his family but he eyes the door expectantly. 

Dread fills him. How long did it take to put on washing? 

“Coriolanus?” he hears Tigris call.

He dashes out of his chair. He had made a very big mistake. 

“Coriolanus?” the receiver resounds. 

Upon opening the door he is met with his washing by his feet. He takes off running to his apartment. You were sick the other day, maybe you had fallen ill again and taken to bed.

He pushed past Peacekeepers as he ran to his steps. Taking them two at a time he reaches the top and pushes open the unlocked door. It was only ever locked to keep someone in, never someone out. He calls out for you but is met with silence. 

He opened every door along the way to the bedroom, hoping you were just hiding. 

He calls your name again and again until falling silent upon the empty bed. You weren’t here. Coriolanus had made a big mistake. 

Clicking the radio built into the collar of his shirt, he demands that the compound is shut down.

“Has anyone been through the gates?” Both leading officers of the two entryways confirm that no one has. The Peacekeepers are diverted into searching the compound for you.

Coriolanus joins too. He didn’t trust the ability of his Peacekeepers. He searched every nook and cranny of every office and building he could find. His temper flared the longer the search went on. 

You had to be in the compound. How could you have got out?

He returns to his apartment. Maybe you had returned upon hearing the sirens. 

A cat catches his attention as it sits meowing and eating bits of food from the ground that the birds had managed to pick out. 

He had never seen a cat in the compound before. Could it have got in the same way you got out? 

He walks over to search it for any clues it might have but it runs off as he comes closer. 

He chases it behind the bin where he watches it slip through the bent wire in the fence. 

You had got away. Now at large in the districts. 

He sighs deeply before taking his rage out on the back of the bins, bashing and kicking at it until he is forced to lean against it to catch his breath. 

A search party would be sent out, interrogations would be issued. Someone had to have seen you along the way. He would find you and he would bring you home to him. 

Taglist:

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[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: A simple dinner party leads to new relations. Eren Jaeger can't keep his eyes off of you.

— Content warnings: mentions of murder, alcohol consumption.

— Notes: I'm so excited to post the first chapter to my new series. I've been wanting to write again for two years now and I finally got hit with inspiration. This is a little different from my usual stuff, but I hope you'll like it. A special thank you to @dreamy-jaeger​ for beta-reading <3 Happy reading, bubs!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

at first sight

Nobody ever said anything about the desperate cries that could be faintly heard from one of the units in Sina Park. Then again, the surrounding houses were occupied by people well into the age when sound just doesn’t reach them as well as it did even just a few years back.  

Sina Park was known for being a peaceful area. With its small and painterly identical houses, and its gardens full of color and floral aromas, it was a picture-perfect community. It wasn’t embedded into its terms to remain strictly as senior-only housing but the great majority of its residents certainly gave off that idea to any outsider. It was to the point where it came as a surprise for one to find out there was someone under the age of sixty living there. But everyone in Sina was well acquainted with each other, and friendliness was practically the norm between every carefree neighbor. 

That was probably why Mr. Shadis didn’t bat an eye when he was enjoying a cup of tea on his front porch and he saw the youngest of the Sina community step out with a duffel bag that was promptly thrown into the trunk of his car, the same night silence reclaimed its territory in Sina Gardens. 

“A bit chilly tonight, eh Fred?” Mr. Shadis asked from his side of the street, raising his hand in greeting when he saw his neighbor walk out.

The young man tossed a boyish smile toward his elder while reciprocating his wave. 

“Just a bit, Mr. Shadis. You probably shouldn’t be out much longer or you’ll catch a cold,” he replied, still smiling as he slammed his trunk shut and smoothly tossed his car key in the air with his left hand, catching it swiftly with his right. 

“Me? What about you?” Shadis teased.

“I’ve still got good bones,” he joked to which Shadis clicked his tongue, feigning hurt feelings as he shook his head.

“You be careful on the road now, eh Fred?” he said, watching the young man disappear into his car, his hand lagging behind to wave goodbye.

The car peeled slowly from its driveway, out of Sina Park, and onto the main road. As the speedometer needle trembled between steady numbers, music flowed softly through the car’s speakers, barely loud enough to disguise the disgusted voice that murmured “That’s not my name, you stupid fuck.”  

The early autumn breeze pins your skirt against your thighs and playfully tussles your hair as you hurry toward the bakery on the corner of the street. You’re welcomed by the pleasant jingle of the bell above the door, as well as Kuchel’s warm interior that puts a stop to the outside’s disturbances on your clothes. 

A slight impatience consumes you as you wait for your turn to order, but you try to keep your booted feet from tapping against the hardwood floor and settle for tapping your fingers on your wallet as you try to assess the available baked goods from your spot in line. There’s a variety of sweet and salty treats — from jumbo oatmeal cookies to pain au chocolat to rolls — but you’ve only got a single thing in mind. A breath of relief escapes your lightly chapped lips when you get close enough to see a neatly stacked pyramid of lemon bars in the display, and a second one after you have a box of them secured in your hands minutes later. 

A satisfied smirk tugs lightly at your lips as you allow yourself to admire the neatly packaged treats. As you make your way to the door, the bell dings, pulling your attention from the box and saving you from clumsily bumping into the man who just walked in. The exchange is brief; he quickly apologizes for the avoided accident and holds the door open for you with a shy smile. 

You don’t reciprocate his warm smile but opt for politely nodding in acknowledgment and thanking him for the gesture before hurrying out the door, not wanting to prolong his act of kindness more than necessary. You take a sharp turn toward the nearest bus stop, completely oblivious to the lingering pair of emerald eyes that steal one last glance at you from inside the bakery. 

Once again, the wind teases your hair until it finds itself locked out by the shutting door of the bus you settle into. Your hand dives into your purse to retrieve your earbuds as soon as you find a seat, yet no music plays throughout your journey. The box from the bakery remains safely in your lap, the contents being lightly jostled now and then when the bus stops to pick up more passengers.  

From the bakery to the bus and for the twenty-minute commute, you go over the names of the people you’ll be meeting in your head. 

It’s not often that you get invited to a coworker’s housewarming party. It’s not often that you form a friendly relationship with a coworker. In fact, it’s not often that you engage with someone at all unless it’s for work or other impersonal things. But Armin Arlert’s nice. Despite being the kind of person who can’t seem to let the purposely lonely be lonely, you’ve taken a liking to him. 

His friends, you think, might be a different story. It’s not that you expect them to be dreadful people, but socializing has never been your scene. You can be pleasant, laugh at jokes, and perhaps even throw one out yourself, but it’s not in you to pursue deeper connections. You’re more at ease keeping to yourself and observing if anything. However, the hopeful look on Armin’s face during your lunch break last week, when he insisted he wanted you at his party, has been popping up in your head at all hours so you feel as though you have no choice but to go beyond your standard pleasantries.  

Your plan for surviving the evening is simple. Get there a few hours early so you can help cook, clean, or anything else Armin might need help with before his friends arrive. Partly because that’s what your altruistic nature steers you to do, but also because you’re hoping you can get a refresher course on what Armin's friends are like so you know what to expect and how to act. If they’re all friends of Armin, maybe it’ll be worth it for you to put some genuine intention behind your courtesies. After all, being friends with Armin hasn’t been difficult so far. You dare to even call it nice. Maybe it’s time for you to make at least one more friend.

Armin’s kitchen is bustling with energy as he and his friends move from one spot to another, swiftly keeping out of each other’s way in perfect sync to finish dinner preparations. 

“I still can’t believe every single one of you bought me a candle… and the same one to top it all off,” Armin shakes his head in amusement, his mind recalling the small cluster of ocean-scented candles he left on the living room coffee table. 

Despite his constant assurance that he’d take full responsibility for the food and drinks — he was the one to bring up the idea of a housewarming party first, so it only made sense —, all of his friends arrived little by little before noon to help out with the cooking. First was Mikasa who, as soon as Armin opened the door, handed him the gift bag with a smile, congratulating him on the move and saying she hoped her present would help make the place a little cozier.   

Then came Connie and Sasha who, despite being roommates, failed to coordinate their gift choices and only realized they bought the same thing when Armin opened Sasha’s bag first and Connie’s jaw dropped in absolute horror. It only got funnier from there. Jean barely stuck the carefully wrapped gift box toward Armin when Mikasa muttered under her breath “It’s a good day for candle sales”. 

“Well, you like candles, and the ocean is pretty much your brand, dude. Don’t blame us.” Jean shrugs, not bothering to peel his focused gaze from the carrots he’s grating. 

“The last time I even talked about the ocean I was, like, fifteen. Almost ten years ago!”

Everyone knows Armin loves the long-term supply of ocean-scented candles, and what may seem like complaints to outsiders is just another bit they’ve all dragged on from their youth.

But Connie still seems a bit lost. His hands pause from sprinkling rosemary leaves on the potato wedges Mikasa neatly laid out on a baking tray.

“So you’re not fucking with the ocean anymore?” he asks with an uncharacteristically serious expression that causes Jean to sputter a laugh before disguising it as a cough. 

“Ignore them,” Sasha prompts, rolling her eyes. Her lips then stretch into a suggestive grin. “Tell us about the girl you invited over. Before she gets here, you have to tell us for real this time, are you into her? Do we need to talk you up? I’m the best wingwoman, Armin. I will make her love you even if it kills me.” Sasha’s hands fall heavily onto Armin’s shoulders as if to back up her conviction.

Armin furrows his brow in mild exasperation. This was the second time he’d been harrowed with that string of questions, which didn’t seem like much, but it took a while for him to get his friends to drop the topic the first time around. He shakes his head and peels Sasha’s hands from his form, fixing them firmly at her sides.

“I already told you it’s not like that. And I don't think human sacrifice is needed, Sash. We’re friends. I just want her to meet you guys… and Eren, of course.”

Nobody picks up on the short pause before Eren’s name or Armin’s sly expression that he’s quick to hide by turning to face the sink.

“She’s a bit quiet but she’s really nice. I think she’ll be a nice addition to our group. You’ll like her, I promise. Just go a little easy, okay?” Armin pauses as he tugs on a pair of dishwashing gloves to whip around one last time. “And don’t say anything weird! I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Okay,” Jean replies in a sing-songy voice. Armin turns to shoot him a threatening look upon hearing his teasing tone, only to find Jean pointing a stern finger in his direction, “But if you change your mind, I got you, bro.” 

Armin only smiles in response, not willing to spare any more breath in correcting him, and starts washing the dishes. Before he can finish scrubbing the bowl in his hands, the doorbell rings and he rushes to pry himself free from his dishwashing gloves before heading to the intercom, glancing back to make sure everyone is still keeping busy.

“It’s me,” a slightly fuzzy version of your voice comes through the speaker. 

He buzzes you in immediately and steps into the hall to wait for you.

When he sees you round the corner, his face breaks out into a grin. 

“Hey, you made it!”

Your lips quirk into a small smile. Armin makes way for you to step inside.

“I thought I could get here a little early to help you with the food. I hope that’s okay.” Your voice trembles a bit at the end, and you start to worry when you realize Armin’s grin has faded. 

“Actually, everything is pretty much done already. Everyone got here around noon, and they kind of took over.”

As if on cue, a burst of laughter hits your ears from where you assume the kitchen is. 

You manage to let out a slow ‘oh’.

Your simple plan has officially backfired. Since Armin's friends are already here, and since he's had no shortage of hands to help him prepare for his get-together, there's nothing left for you to do. More importantly, there’s no more window for you to ask questions. You hoped you’d be the first to arrive, and each arrival after that would be spaced out so you had enough time to get a feel on every one of Armin’s friends on their own. Now that that’s out the window, you start to worry the dynamics will be a bit too awkward between you and however many there are of them. It’s a battlefield now. Too many factors, too many things to worry about. Headfirst, no safety net, no baby steps.

Almost as if he can sense your panic through your otherwise expressionless face, Armin smiles.

“Don't worry about it, they're nice.”

Your fingers curl tighter around the box of desserts. There's a permanent knot in your stomach that twists further, reminding you of its presence, in situations like this. Your mind flashes a jumble of different scenarios and all the possibilities for outcomes without letting you actually process or make sense of any of it. 

And in the next instant, you're back. 

“I brought some lemon bars from Kuchel.” You raise the box just enough for the movement to catch Armin’s eye.

His face lights up when he looks down at the box in your hands and he immediately takes hold of it.

“I freakin’ love these! Thank you!” 

Relief washes over your previously tensed features. Of course, you already knew these specific lemon bars are Armin’s favorite. He's always bummed out when you go together to Kuchel for your lunch break and there's no more left.

“I actually got the last batch,” you state proudly, the feeling only growing when his fingers excitedly tug at the ribbon tying the handles together and fishing out a pastry, biting into it with no hesitation.

“No kidding, they always sell out. Come on, I'll introduce you to everybody.” He heads toward the kitchen, waving at you to follow him.

You nervously tug at your turtleneck's sleeves, leaving them to cover your hands in an almost protective manner. 

The fact that all eyes fall on you the second you step into everyone's line of vision doesn't help you feel at ease. Your gaze wanders to a distant place in an attempt to lessen the mental weight everyone's stares bear on you. But Armin throws a comforting arm over your shoulder and gives you a light squeeze as he announces your name to everybody. 

When you look up — because you have to in order to properly link names and faces together — each new person in the room has a warmth to their features that gradually soothes your internal distress.

Sasha’s the first name to be called out. She's also the only one who goes up to steal you from Armin's arms and hugs you excitedly, squealing about how exciting it is to finally meet you. You're taken aback by the sudden embrace, but she’s holding you so tight that you can't look back at Armin for help. You're also oblivious to his warning gaze toward her behind your back. 

Mikasa smiles and nods politely at you from the other side of the counter. It's quite the contrast from the first girl, but her gaze radiates kindness.

Jean's good looks are the first thing you notice from him, and he's got a cool energy to match. He raises two fingers in a salute when it's his turn, paired with a side smile as he casually leans against the bar.

Lastly, there's Connie, who proves himself to be as goofy as Armin told you beforehand, by dramatically posing with one arm against the counter and his opposite hand resting on his hip, muscles flexed, head turned low just so he could look up again and say “the one and only”. 

You purse your lips in response to hide the smile that still manages to slip through.

“Nice to meet you all.”

You stand there awkwardly for what you think is a second too long, silently begging to come up with something else to say or for someone else to pick up the task so everyone can move on. 

Thankfully, Armin swoops in, showing off his box of lemon bars on his way to a seat at the bar. He taps the seat next to him, gesturing for you to sit.

“Impressive,” Jean says, nodding in approval as he neatly folds a tea towel. He knows how much Armin loves Kuchel's lemon bars. 

“It's not a big deal,” you reply, waving him off as you scan the room for something to give yourself to do. But there isn't much. 

The counters have been cleared of any signs of ingredient prep during introductions, there's a timer set for the oven, and there's but a small pile of dishes left unfinished at the sink, which Mikasa is already finishing up. So you settle for sitting at the bar and staying out of everyone's way.

However, sitting still doesn't clear you from everyone's attention. It only makes sense that they're curious about you. And with the oven timer still with a little less than an hour to go, you can sense the start of a conversation where you're the main focus. 

“So…” Jean begins. 

Everyone gathers around the bar.

You brace yourself.

The following minutes are a bit of a blur. You try your best to keep up with everyone's questions. Where you're from, your birthday, your zodiac sign, what kind of music you like, if you've been to this and that place, or tried the food at x, y, and z. They're pretty basic questions, but as long as you're a target you're kept on your toes. After each of your answers, there's an exchanged glance or a nod of approval. You know everyone is only trying to get to know you, yet you can't help but feel as though every question is part of a test and your likability is at stake. That is until the conversation branches out to a story about the best taco truck in the next town over, which, in turn, leads to a story about Connie and Sasha getting food poisoning from a different taco truck they decided to try after their favorite one happened to close early that day. Only then can you breathe a sigh of relief. You even laugh a little at Sasha’s colorful retelling of the taco story. 

“So, basically, don't go to Tito's,” Sasha finalizes, giving you a stern look. “You'll be shitting and barfing for a week.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” you laugh.

After that, the conversation flows a lot easier for you. There's less pressure with the decrease in questions thrown your way, which gives you more confidence to chime in with anecdotes of your own. It's hard to pinpoint when the conversation stopped feeling like a test, but you're grateful for it. 

You realize there was never any battlefield to survive. Not here, not with this group of friends. And it’s nice to have several people willing to fill in any silence and steer the flow of the conversation instead of feeling the pressure of everyone's interest in your hands. 

Just as you take a second to wander your gaze across everyone's laughing faces, finally feeling at ease with your place in the group, the doorbell rings, followed by the shrill sound of the timer. 

“Fucking Jaeger,” Jean mutters.

“Just in time,” Armin grins, hops down from his chair, and makes his way to the door. Jean follows him at his heel, mumbling something about “Jaeger” being late. 

You're distracted by Mikasa's voice calling your name. 

“Could you get me the oven mitts, please?”

You nod and offer your assistance in taking out the chicken.

On the other side of the wall, Armin buzzes his last guest in and holds the door open to wait, shooting a confused look at Jean, who leans back against the wall to wait, too.

As soon as he comes in, Armin yells out, “Eren!” and pulls his best friend into a big hug, forcing him to crouch slightly to accommodate his embrace. They both laugh as Jean stands with his arms across his chest and a disgruntled look on his face.

“Hey, man. Sorry I'm late.” 

“Mhm,” Jean hums, expecting Eren to cower under his gaze. 

He doesn't. Jean is completely ignored as Eren sheepishly starts to explain himself, even though Armin didn't expect him until around this time anyway. 

“I wanted to get you those lemon bars you like from that bakery. But when I got there, they were all out, so I went to their other shop across town, but they didn't have any either, and so then I—”

Armin laughs. 

“Relax. You made it, that's what matters.”

“I feel bad, though. I really wanted to get some for you. I know they're your favorite.”

“If you really wanted to do something nice, you could've gotten here earlier to help with the cooking,” Jean scolds. Then he smirks. “Like I did.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, finally acknowledging Jean. 

He then pulls out a small gift box and hands it to Armin with a smile. 

"I got you a candle, though."

Jean snorts and walks back to the kitchen, leaving an annoyed Eren shooting daggers at his back. 

Armin graciously takes the gift, taking the lid off to confirm that the candle is, indeed, ocean-scented.

"Thanks, buddy. I was running short on these," he smiles sympathetically at his friend, patting his shoulder. 

As they walk into the open space of the dining area, you walk out with a stack of plates in your hands to set the table. Armin perks up upon seeing you and excitedly rushes Eren, saying he wants to introduce him to somebody. 

Armin’s voice catches your attention as you carefully set the plates down. “This is my best friend Eren.” 

Your gaze shifts toward the pair of surprised green eyes already set on you while Armin’s voice goes on in the background, repeating your name to his friend. 

“Hey, it’s you.” Eren smiles in recognition. 

Armin’s eyebrows raise in surprise; yours furrow in confusion. Everyone starts filing to the dining area with food and silverware to finish setting the table. You step aside, murmuring quiet apologies as you get out of their way and step closer to Armin and his friend. 

“You two know each other?” Armin asks, his gaze shifting between the two of you.

Before Eren can answer, he’s interrupted by Mikasa walking over.

“Hey, Eren. You’re late.” She looks up at him with disappointment. You get the feeling he was supposed to arrive around the same time she and the others did.

“Yeah!” Connie whines from the dining table, where he’s setting up wine glasses. “We had to work twice as hard.” 

Eren ignores Connie’s flawed math.

“Sorry, everybody,” he replies, yet his tone is more that of a meek kid who’s forced to apologize. 

He returns his focus to his original conversation. Armin is still looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, right! Uh… yeah, we bumped into each other at Kuchel’s earlier,” he finally explains. He looks at you shyly. “I held the door for you.”

Your furrowed brow softens, and your lips shape into a silent ah! when you recall the brief interaction. You didn’t even remember his face, but you nod along now.

“Come on, guys. Let’s eat!” Mikasa’s voice cuts through the silence, putting an end to your conversation.

Throughout dinner, everyone is a lot more chatty than you expected, considering there's plenty of food to get through. Everyone spills out as many light-hearted anecdotes about one another as the bites they take of baked potato wedges, garlic butter chicken, and grated carrot salad. Their stories are clear to have been brought up between them several times over the years, but they're new to you and you appreciate them choosing to share with you.

It turns out, the universe has worked its magic to make sure all six friends remain close since childhood. The fact is a little intimidating when you find out, but you do your best to push it aside.

At first, you're perfectly fine quietly listening as you eat, your voice only adding to the mix in the shape of a laugh, a gasp, or a question for the storyteller — just enough so they don't forget you're there. 

The entire time, you feel a pair of eyes stealing glances at you from across the table even when you're not talking. Whenever you slowly look up to meet them, Eren quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere. When choosing places at the table, Armin insisted on having you across from one another. He didn't outright say it, but he did rearrange everyone else so that it worked out that way. 

Given that he was the last to arrive and you've barely spoken directly to each other since he got here, you're not sure how to feel about Eren yet. He seems nice enough, but you don't feel as easy even looking at him as you do with the others. It's strange, but his late arrival made all the difference. Somehow he seems like a total stranger compared to the people you met just an hour before him. After your awkward introduction, it’s hard to say if you can make the situation better.

Night has settled in by the time everyone is leaning back in their seats with full bellies, lazily sipping wine every few minutes as the conversation eases into a quieter, slower pace. The serving dishes have been scraped clean. The box of lemon bars you brought over has been split for dessert, leaving just one lonely square that you know a slightly tipsy Armin has been eyeing. 

Eren had turned to look at you with surprise when Armin thanked you for the second time.

“Ah, so you're the one who beat me to the last batch,” was what he said. 

A soft apology tumbled from your lips.

So far, you hadn't proved yourself to be big on smiling but, when you did, it was nice to look at. Consequently, he tried to be the cause of at least one. So when you gave him nothing for his weak attempt at teasing, he shrunk in his seat and decided to keep quiet. 

It's not long before Jean suggests moving to the living room to play a game and you take that as your cue to start clearing the table so there's no mess to come back to later. As you slip quietly into the kitchen, you can hear Jean and Connie arguing over whether to play cards or Monopoly. As Connie argues, he doesn't want to play Monopoly with a cheater, to which Jean says it's not his fault he's the better player.

You carefully place the dishes in the sink, adjusting the streaming water to a warm temperature. As you tug the pair of dishwashing gloves onto your hands, you catch a glimpse of a figure stepping beside you. When you look up, you're met with a boyish grin and shy jewel-toned eyes. He's setting down another pile of dirty dishes on the counter.

“Hi.” 

You're not sure how to respond other than with a polite nod and a soft hi back. There's not much else to say, anyway. Half of you hopes he'll leave; you need some space to recharge your social battery. The other half is curious about the kind of conversation you might have to engage in if he stays. 

You focus your gaze on the soaking dishes, waiting with bated breath to see what he does. 

He stays. 

He offers to dry what you wash. 

There's a nervous tremor in his voice. Like a kid scared to ask for permission instead of an adult offering help. It's so small you barely notice it, but it's there. 

You nod. 

You wash, he dries. 

It's quiet save for the sounds of dishes clinking together. 

Then, his voice comes through.

“I didn't mean to put you on the spot earlier when I got here. I just have a knack for remembering faces.” 

An uncomfortable warmth crawls up your neck and pools at your cheeks. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm kind of the opposite. I just don't pay attention to faces,” you explain. 

“Oh.” He forces a laugh. “Yeah, no, I get it.” 

He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. It's a bit discouraging for him to see how laser-focused you are on doing the dishes though, and he already feels foolish for making you apologize for not recognizing a total stranger. He tries not to stare at you too much but it's difficult when you're right there beside him. He only hopes you can't make him out looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You, on the other hand, can feel his eyes burning holes into your side profile. Ignoring it is harder than you hope but at least you have something to help. You're not sure if he expects you to reciprocate his efforts in breaking the ice, but you've yet to get a proper read on him. He was mostly quiet during dinner. Whenever a story with him at the center came up, he'd try to sway the conversation in a different direction. He seemed tense and you hate to think he might be uncomfortable with your presence. Maybe he's an anxious person who's easily embarrassed, you think. Or he might’ve thought you were stuck up and rude after you failed to recognize him and that's why the air now feels so thick. That happens a lot. The people around you are mostly a blur until — and if you ever — have a reason to break into friendly territory. 

The next time you hand a dish for Eren to dry, your gaze lingers, carefully taking in his features. His green eyes are striking, but it's not as if the rest of his face falls short of that. He's very handsome. In a more boyish way than you observed Jean to be, but sharper than, say, Armin. His brown hair is neatly cut on the sides, contrasted by the choppy bangs that line his forehead — something that brings more youth to his face. He's got long, thick lashes and plump lips. Faint freckles are scattered along what one might consider to be a perfect straight nose. He's very handsome, indeed. But that's not all. There's a delicacy to his features that blends them all harmoniously, making Eren Jaeger quite… pretty. 

Eren suddenly clears his throat; you take it as a sign to stop staring.

“So… um… how long have you been friends with Armin?” 

You already know the answer, and you didn’t mind the silence at all, but you might as well try to get Armin’s best friend in your good graces. Especially after your dreadful mistake of not recognizing him. It bothers you to think he might have decided he doesn’t like you because of that.

“Since we were six… Um… He had a lot of trouble with bullies back in elementary school and I beat them up for him.”

That part you didn’t know, so you pause your focus on the plate you’re scrubbing to glance at Eren with admiration. 

“I think he might’ve developed a weird hero complex by mistake though,” he laughs to himself. “He wanted me to get into fights every time he saw someone new being bullied.”

You laugh. The sound makes Eren’s chest swell with pride. 

“Did you do it?”

He bashfully nods without ungluing his gaze from the serving spoon he’s drying.

You laugh some more.

“And of course, then he would take them in as a friend. Something about strength in numbers or whatever. To this day he has this thing that he needs to take in anyone who seems vulnerable.”

You laugh through your nose fully aware of the familiarity you feel from Eren’s story.

“That definitely sounds like him.”

You grin as you finish rinsing the plate, excited to have found some common ground to latch onto for conversation. 

Eren admires your happy expression from the corner of his eye.

But when you turn to look at him, he averts his gaze, curling his lips inwards, and he takes the plate from your hands. 

Your lips downturn a bit, thinking you might still have a long way to go before you can make up for your mistake. 

Still, the thickness in the kitchen air dissipates as you each return to your tasks, the corners of your lips perking up in relieved smiles. 

Armin walks in a moment later with the remnants of a laugh on his face from whatever conversation he just left behind. His faded grin resurfaces when he finds you and Eren together, and he catches a glimpse of the pink tint dusting his best friend's cheeks. 

He watches for a few seconds, mildly amused that neither of you seems to notice his presence. Just as Eren finishes wiping the last fork dry, he decides to speak. 

“You didn't need to do that.” 

His statement is directed at both of you, yet his gaze is fixed on you, a warm smile gracing his features.

“You should join the others,” he tells you. “Oh, and uh…” He swipes a bottle from one of the cupboards. “Take this with you.” 

“Let me just help put away everything,” you offer.

“It's okay, Eren and I got it,” he assures you.

You back out hesitantly, only decidedly walking out when Armin gives you a reassuring nod.

Both men watch you leave. As soon as you're out of sight, Armin's lips stretch into a knowing smile. 

“She's pretty, huh?”

Eren's eyebrows upturn in clear worry when he rips his gaze from you to look at Armin. They soften a split second later in an attempt to appear nonchalant before his grinning friend. 

“Um… I guess so… I don't know.” 

He hurries to tend to the dishes waiting to be put away, hoping it's enough to mask the way he slowly deflates.

Plates and forks are stored in silence. An amused Armin keeps glancing at him.

After a while, a soft laugh escapes his lips.

“Relax, I'm not into her.” 

Eren stiffens, unable to remove his hand by will from the cupboard door he just shut, and instead letting gravity take the wheel. 

Before he can reflect on how exposed he feels, Armin's voice comes through again from where he's now leaning casually against the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“But I meant it when I said she's pretty.” He nods along for emphasis even though Eren has yet to look at him.

“She's really smart too. And kind! I mean, she can seem a little cold at first, but I heard some guys are into that. There's just this charm to her, you know? A few guys at work have tried asking her out but they're totally wrong for her.” He shakes his head at the last thought, then side-eyes Eren expectantly.

“If she ever goes out with someone, I hope it's one of the good guys.” 

Throughout Armin's speech, Eren kept his lips pressed together in a tight line, wondering where Armin was headed with all he was saying. At first, he assumed his friend was interested in the new face of the group, which is why he feigned disinterest. But with every word that kept rolling off his tongue, his intentions were blatantly obvious. And yet he still decides to ask, “What are you trying to do, Armin?”

"Nothing... nothing at all," Armin answers with a shrug, playing it off as if any suggestion is all in Eren's head. He straightens up and starts walking out of the kitchen. There's a pause in his step just before he can slip out of sight. Looking at Eren over his shoulder, he leaves him with one last thought.

“All I'm saying is if you just keep staring at her, she’s gonna get weirded out.”

Eren is left alone, blushing profusely and running a shaky hand through his hair. 

“Come on! That can’t be your most embarrassing thing!”

You shrug.

“That's all I've got.”

“What’s going on?” Eren asks as he takes in the scene. 

It took him a while to reason with himself alone in the kitchen. By the time Eren joins everyone in the living room — nerves finally dormant — everyone is sitting on the floor around the coffee table playing a drinking game. He walks over in search of an open space and ends up nestled between Jean and Connie. Jean throws an arm over his shoulders.

“Jaeger, good. Buddy, tell her about the time you tried to do a one-arm pushup.” From his sleepy eyes and the affectionate term toward Eren, one can easily tell he's drunk.

Eren looks up quizzically at everybody.

“We're telling our most embarrassing stories,” you explain. “Whoever has the worst one wins the round and everyone else has to drink. I think it's just a ploy for everyone to get dirt on me though.” 

You pout at your cup. It's clear you're a little tipsy, too.

Eren softly laughs.

“Whaa– we would never,” Sasha pouts.

“You're getting a deal! You get six embarrassing stories for the price of one!” Connie points out. 

As you start to argue that it's not really fair because it's not like you have anyone to tell, Sasha’s phone buzzes in her pocket and a loud groan rumbles from her throat after skimming through whatever text she just got. Her chin falls onto the coffee table, arms stretched out before her so she can reply. 

Mikasa looks at her with concern and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, affectionately tapping her nose afterward.

“What's wrong?”

“Kaya's out with her friends and she's asking me to send her money for an Uber. I told her to be careful with her money but she just won't listen.” 

Everyone either sympathetically smiles at her or idly watches her send over fifty dollars. You look at Armin, who quietly explains Kaya is Sasha’s younger sister who's a college freshman. You nod in understanding. 

“That's a little sibling for you,” Connie mutters, softly patting Sasha’s head. 

“That's why I love being an only child,” Jean states matter-of-factly. He stretches his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders back before reaching for the bottle of liquor at the center of the table. “Never had to worry about some annoying little runt.”

“I would've liked to have a younger sister,” Mikasa says. “It would've been fun to hang out and teach her things, you know?” 

A touch of nostalgia dances along her lips as she traces the rim of her glass with her index finger. 

“Oh, do you have any siblings?” Her eyes flit in your direction. 

The question is innocent, but the topic of family causes you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“No… I don't.” You try to smile, but it's stiff. 

Jean's loud clapping startles you. He tops off all but Connie's and Sasha’s glasses. 

“Oh yeah, single child gang!” He raises his glass in cheers and downs the contents. You follow his lead, hoping that'll mark the end of that topic. But it doesn't. “You must've been spoiled growing up, am I right?”

You lower your gaze, opting to fiddle with your fingers instead of answering. 

Mikasa seems to sense the fragility of the topic from your side because her eyebrows upturn in concern when she looks at you. 

“Hey, not everyone has a mother like yours. Don't be rude, Jean-boy.” She raises a teasing eyebrow as she whips her head in Jean's direction.

“Didn't you yell at her when she brought cupcakes to our class for your birthday?” Eren scrunched his eyebrows together in feigned thought.

“I was twelve! You can't keep holding that over my head. I'm twenty-five now,” Jean whines.

“And I've yet to see you mature,” Eren mutters.

A hushed giggle escapes your lips. You cover it up by sipping your drink. A satisfied smirk tugs at Eren's lips when he catches a glimpse of your smile.

Contrary to his sober self, drunk Jean craves Eren's approval and affection instead of their usual frenemy-like banter. He looks at him with sad eyes.

“Hey, I've made up for it. Mama Kirstein doesn't need to lift a finger thanks to her amazing engineer son.” 

Sasha’s face contorts in confusion.

“Last time I went to Trost with you, she was still working as a seamstress.” 

Jean waves her off.

“She just likes to keep busy.”

“What do your parents do?” Sasha turns to you.

You're trapped. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see Armin leaning forward with just as much interest as the others. In the past, Armin's asked about your family only once. After vaguely implying you weren't close to them, he dropped the topic. But now, in his intoxicated state, he doesn't do much to keep his level of curiosity under wraps. And knowing you're slightly buzzed, too, he hopes you’ve let go of any inhibitions that have kept you from revealing more of your background. 

Armin likes you. He's always admired your efficiency at work, but you seemed lonely and closed off — which is why he decided to approach you in the first place. To everyone in the office, you were a cold stuck-up woman — yet they still refused to stop obsessing over you. To him, you were just misunderstood and lowkey. Sure, you refused to do much to take up space in a room, but through small conversations here and there, he was allowed to slowly unveil your true self. 

But there was always another hidden wall. Armin wouldn't admit it out of fear of seeming like a creep, but that line you expertly draw — allowing someone in without fully giving yourself away — is part of what makes you alluring. That and your keen eye for reading people.

You wet your lips with a swipe of your tongue, looking for a way out inside the clear liquid sitting at the bottom of your glass.

Eren zeroes in on your face, trying to decipher the distant look in your eyes. The weight on his chest lightens when you finally speak.

“I'm not sure what they're doing now. Last time I checked, my mom was a drug addict, and my dad left when I was twelve.”

The weight in Eren's chest comes back heavier than ever.

Silence takes over the living room. Even the darkness outside the window seems eerily quiet as your abrupt statement courses through the gears in everyone's heads.

There's no certainty as to why you blurted out what you did. Maybe it was a sense of security which you now think was a trick of your mind. Perhaps the alcohol is to blame. After all, you didn't feel any need to be a burden on others on an otherwise fun night before. But the words just seemed to push their way out of your mouth. 

A severe scolding rings in your ears.

You always ruin everything!

You don't expect anyone to come up with an answer. In fact, you'll be grateful if someone simply discards your words and steers the conversation in a different direction. But if nobody does, then you'll quietly make your way home. There’s no use in annoying others by begging them to let you stay, promising you won't cause any more trouble. 

“How long has it been since you saw your mom?” Mikasa's voice cuts through the thickness of the air.

The look in her eyes is sympathetic. Not the fake kind that makes you feel pitied for having endured a rough life. It's the kind that simply matches such an ordinary question.

“About a year,” you murmur. 

Jean hums in thought.

“A year, huh? That's almost how long you've been in the city, right?” He scratches his chin as he retrieves the information you shared earlier from his tipsy brain. 

You nod. “Yup… one year.”

Everyone nods along to your answer. Everyone but one.

You nervously blink toward the left, searching Armin's face. He's slumped in his spot, his eyes lost at a blank point. They flash in your direction, and he quickly composes himself, but not quick enough for his expression to go unnoticed by you.

Despite some things here and there, he thought you were close. He never pressured you to share anything you didn't want to. Just getting along and respecting each other would have sufficed — he’s a giver more than he is a taker. But he feels like he failed to support you. He's extremely dumbfounded, but he doesn't make it a point that you never told him the specifics on something so big. He refuses to make you think he resents you for it. 

But the glimpse you caught of his fallen shoulders and clouded eyes still makes you lower your head in guilt. Just ten minutes ago, you felt accomplished for being on your way to gaining new friends and grateful that Armin paved the way for you. You're embarrassed for having thought that you could juggle more relationships when you've barely been open to the one you already have. It's almost laughable that you thought to leave your comfort zone and give this evening a try.

Before you can issue an apology, Jean's loud clapping startles you for the second time tonight.

"Well.” He tilts his head as he splits the last of the liquor into everyone's glass for one last drink. “In any case... if you hadn't moved here, you wouldn't be drinking with the best people you'll ever meet." 

“Hear, hear!” Armin yells beside you, following Jean's lead and raising his glass toward the center. 

Your eyes meet his. He's smiling, nodding almost imperceptibly for you to join your glass with everyone else's. The corners of your lips quirk into a relieved smile. You raise your glass.

The rest of the group cheers as joyful clinks spread through the room. 

Whatever darkness was squeezing at your chest dissipates. Your eyes crinkle in amusement as you allow your giddiness to take over. 

A pair of mesmerized green eyes linger on your face from the opposite side of the coffee table. His lips part slightly to draw in a long breath, followed by a sip of alcohol. 

A beeping phone sifts through the commotion.

Mikasa looks down at her phone. First, with curiosity, then with worry. 

Levi Don't go out at night for a while. Killer on the loose. SN3

She calls out Armin's name.

“Turn on the news on channel 3.”

The urgency tainting Mikasa's usual steady voice has Armin scrambling to find the remote, though with a bit of confusion. Everyone else exchanges quizzical glances while they wait for him to turn the television on.

A male newscaster is halfway through reciting a report on the police department's recent findings. 

“... The twenty-six-year-old woman's body was dismembered and disposed of in a garbage dumpster behind a local restaurant. Police have yet to report any evidence that can lead them to any suspects. An autopsy is ongoing to pinpoint the cause of death but with the initial report, signs point to a possible case of torture…”

The mood shifts yet again. Everyone stares at the screen, but the words no longer reach anyone's ears. Nobody recognized the girl identified on the screen but it's still unnerving when something so tragic and cruel happens in the city one lives in. Being close in age to the victim just makes it even rougher. 

Eren is the first to look back — specifically at the girls.

You all seem lost in thought. His gaze flits in your direction. You're just as distant, nursing your glass in your hands as you chew on your bottom lip. He turns to Mikasa.

“Was that Levi earlier?”

Eren's voice pulls Mikasa from her thoughts.

She nods.

“Who's Levi?” you ask.

“My uncle,” she explains. “He texted me not to go out at night for a while. They didn't say if this was a serial killer but I don't think he wants to take any chances as long as the culprit is out there.” In a lower voice she adds, “he's in the police.” 

You slowly nod, then suddenly remember where you are.

“I need to get home fast, then.” 

Your eyes land on the digital clock beside the TV. It's well past the time to catch the last bus. You swipe your phone from your purse to look up cab numbers, unaware of the nervous glances exchanged all around you.

“I don't think you should leave now.” Eren stops you from dialing the first cab company from your search results, his eyes wide with concern. He doesn't realize his hand is holding onto your wrist until you look down at it.

He pulls away, embarrassed, but remains firm in his statement.

“Eren's right,” Connie agrees. He has a protective hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “Mind if we crash here tonight?” He directs his gaze at Armin. 

“No need to ask. I'll bring out some blankets.”

It's two in the morning. A cluster of tired bodies sleeps peacefully on the living room floor. Lazy limbs stretch out and across someone else's. Light snores and rare mumblings are the only thing that disturbs the quiet. 

The murder on the news had left everyone unsettled. Much so, that everyone felt inclined to sleep together in the same room. It didn’t do much for their comfort given the space, but it gave everyone a sense of safety. 

Eren’s eyelids barely flutter open. They're so heavy, he wishes he could just ignore the uncomfortable fullness of his bladder. But he can't. Begrudgingly, he clumsily rises to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom, rubbing his temples with one hand and feeling around for any walls and furniture with his other while his eyes adjust to the darkness. 

When he gets back, he catches sight of a lone figure sitting out on the small balcony outside of the kitchen.

It takes him a minute to rid himself of the extra warmth in his face. He takes a deep breath and quietly slides the door open to step out.

“Hey.” 

You look up at him from your chair. Your knees are pressed against your chest, your arms wrapped around them for support as your cheek rests on top.

“Hi.” 

“Is it okay if I sit?”

You nod and proceed to face forward, resting your chin where your cheek used to be.

The night is pleasantly warm. You're wearing the sweats and shirt Armin lent you for the night. 

Eren's gaze roams every shape of your side profile. It's the second time you've been alone together and he's racking his brain on what to talk about to balance out the way he's been staring at you all night. He doesn't want to give Armin another reason to tease him. His hands are sweaty and his cheeks start to warm at the reminder.

“Did I wake you?” 

Your voice is gentle and sweet, but it startles him nonetheless. 

“No,” he manages to say. He pauses. “How long have you been out here?”

You shake your head as you look up at the star-littered sky.

“Not long.”

He hums, mulling your answer over. 

If you’re awake at this hour, not bothering to try going back to sleep, something must be weighing heavily on your mind, he reasons. That’s further proven by the way you’re shrinking into yourself, trying to take up as little space as you can. Not that he’s especially knowledgeable about you, but there’s a difference in how your quietness manifests itself now than during dinner. It’s comparable to the way you were after watching the news. 

“Are you okay?” 

He watches you hesitate to give him an answer. Your lips tremble, parting and pressing together a couple of times. It’s as if you’re willing to talk but the words are lodged in your throat.

“You can tell me.”

Still no answer. 

“Is it because of the girl on the news?”

Finally, you look at him. Your brows twist with grief. 

“I just can’t stop thinking about her. Her family must be devastated.”

All evening, Eren’s had a hard time holding your gaze. Mainly because he didn’t want to give himself away, but it’s also hard to admire someone when they’re looking directly at you. Once his racing heart finds a steadier rhythm, he finds it’s actually easy to lose himself in your eyes. 

There’s a subtle glassiness to them — one he’d be more concerned about if he hadn’t noticed it as a natural part of you. Your eyes heavily conveyed every emotion, every little thought. And Eren suddenly felt compelled to learn how to read them.

The way you’ve presented yourself so far — gentle and cautious — gives you an aura of delicate maturity in the eyes of others. But for a brief moment, you seem small. Troubled, even. 

“I know it’s selfish for me to be thinking about this, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll have anyone crying for me when I die. I don’t have many people,” you whisper.

It feels strange to Eren to suddenly feel a surge of courage when he’s been nothing but an awkward wreck around you since you met.

“You have us now.”

You don’t show yourself to be entirely convinced. In fact, there’s a hint of amusement shimmering in your eyes. But you appreciate his words no matter how empty they might turn out to be. 

Eren hesitates to ask you the question that’s been gnawing at his brain for hours now. You’ve been sharing such a pleasant moment, that he hates to think he might ruin it all and end up losing his cool in the process. 

“That stuff about your parents… is it true?”

It’s a leap of faith.

“You think I made it up?”

The raised eyebrow and the humorless smile that graces your lips take him by surprise, even more so than the firm tone of your voice.

“No, of course not!” He chokes on his words, frantic he might have offended you. 

But you laugh, and it soothes him instantly.

“Relax, I was just teasing you.” You look away, warmth pooling at your cheeks upon your failed attempt to be funny. “It’s true, by the way. I’m a child of neglect.” 

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips.

He doesn't pick up on your embarrassment — he’s much too focused on his own.

Despite the bitterness lacing your gentle voice, he can’t help himself from wanting to know more. It makes him anxious. Finding you attractive is besides the point. His mind is scrambling at any opportunity to get closer to you. He wants to keep talking. He wants to hear more about what worries you. He wants to stretch out the night and keep the conversation going — even if he’s caught off guard by your unpredictable teasing a few more times. He wants to know about your past. He wants to know you. But you kill off his chances when you suddenly change the course of the conversation. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” You look up at him with concern contorting your features. It takes everything in him not to let his gaze drift to your bottom lip that’s caught between your teeth to keep your nerves at bay.

“Huh?”

You clear your throat before explaining and fiddle with your hands as you do. You focus on the moon instead of him.

It’s quite cute for Eren to see you fidget for once.

“It's just that during dinner you barely talked and whenever I looked at you, you would look away,” you explain bashfully. “And then when we were doing the dishes together, you just felt a little awkward. I mean, I don’t expect you to be all chummy with me, but it was kind of like you were forcing yourself to talk to me.” 

Eren wants to smack himself. He had no idea of the message he was sending all this time. All those averted gazes and suppressed smiles must have looked totally different from your end.

“I thought maybe you were uncomfortable with me around.”

Your voice is even softer than before. It might have to do with the people sleeping inside or maybe you're just feeling quieter than usual. Eren has no idea. But it's a nice sound, and his quickening heartbeat isn't lost on him.

The abrupt changes in his system are giving him whiplash. And it’s all because of you.

“I’m not,” he whispers. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

A deep shade of red gradually tints his cheeks, openly defying the pale blue light from the moon. His gaze shies away from you and settles on his lap, where he nervously rubs his sweaty palms just to give himself something to do. When his eyes slowly drift back to your face, he swallows hard. 

It finally hits you.  

Oh, you think. 

Next chapter

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[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 20

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | AO3

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Robin and Steve shower together the next morning.

And that's - fine, it's fine.

He was right about Steve being a resourceful guy, it seems, because he can faintly hear the sound of smacking and giggling and an oh my God before he finishes getting dressed and books it out of Steve's bedroom. He doesn't have to feel guilty about preventing them from their celebratory activities anymore, at least, and he just -

He just won't think about it.

It doesn't matter what he wants, or what he thinks he might be able to have. It matters that he wants to be in this party, that he wants to keep Steve and Robin, and you can't have two romantic soulmates, it's just not -

"What?" he mutters viciously to himself. "It's just not done? When have you ever cared about that?"

When it comes to this, apparently. Maybe you can have two romantic soulmates, maybe Steve wouldn't mind, but Eddie, well. Eddie can't, and there's too many other things he needs to deal with right now to be able to focus on figuring out what the gut feeling that it'd be a disaster really means.

He gets coffee started for them instead, makes himself a bowl of oatmeal, and his knee is only bouncing in agitation a little when Steve and Robin come down to the kitchen.

Steve notices it immediately, because of course he does. "You worried about telling your uncle?"

Eddie grimaces. "Worried about a lot of things right now, man, it's getting to be kind of a list."

Steve tips his head. "Eh, fair."

Robin hums as she pours herself a cup of coffee. "Want to talk about it?"

He opens his mouth to immediately decline, then pauses, actually considering that. No way in hell is he going to try to process anything related to their soulmate arrangement with them, but… everything else? Yeah, he could actually see that.

"Not right now," he says finally. "I'm gonna have enough talking to do with Uncle Wayne later."

They don't push him. Instead, they eat breakfast together, with Robin's foot pressed up against his and Steve's hand on his knee. He kind of wants to say something about it, but he doesn't know whether what comes out of his mouth will be a thank you or a joke to try to brush it off, and he's honestly not sure he wants to draw attention to it.

Eddie's always been all easy, casual physical contact, hands gripping shoulders and arms slung around his friends and playful shoves or nudges, but this is -

This isn't loud and boisterous and purposefully over the top, this is quiet and sincere and done almost on instinct.

It's strange, how different it feels.

And how much it works to calm him down, despite both of them being the source of one of his swirls of chaotic thoughts.

After breakfast, Robin hugs him goodbye and they head out. Steve's going to pick Dustin up, drop Robin off at the high school, and then hopefully come back with Uncle Wayne. The rest of the hoard is making themselves scarce today, so Eddie doesn't have an audience for seeing his uncle again.

He'd been a little surprised that there wasn't an argument about looping his uncle in, but Nancy had pointed out that if they didn't tell him something soon, his insistence on putting up missing person fliers was likely to put some kind of pressure on the police to pursue Eddie's case more.

Eddie'd been all for not having a gaggle of teenagers around for this before, but now that he's alone, just waiting - look, he might not want an audience when he has to ask his uncle if he hates him now, but he kind of wants one in the leading up to it so he doesn't have to keep thinking about all the different possible ways this is going to go.

Logically, he knows that Uncle Wayne isn't going to hate him. He stopped doubting the love his uncle had for him a long time ago. Jesus knows Eddie's tested him in so many ways since then, but it's never been this.

It's never been a dead girl in their living room, and Eddie no where to be found.

Even if he doesn't think Eddie did it - Eddie still just left, just left him to deal with all of that, and then he went back and helped destroy their home a little more, made sure it was really uninhabitable.

He wouldn't blame his uncle for having some misgivings about everything, about him.

Eddie's not sure how long he's been sitting there when he hears the unmistakable sound of his uncle's truck. It's a sound he's heard almost every day since he was twelve, usually when he was blearily shoving cereal into his mouth or burrowing deeper in his blankets to steal just a little bit more sleep. It's always been accompanied by the crunch of gravel, first under the tires and then from Uncle Wayne's footsteps, and hearing it pull smoothly into the Harrington driveway now feels almost as otherworldly as that first trip into the Upside Down.

He's been in a little bit of a bubble, here. He doesn't feel like he's being overly dramatic when he thinks that the last time he heard his uncle's truck, he was a different person than he is now, and those two lives colliding is kind of a head trip.

His hands are trembling a little, and he stands up partly just for something to do, something other than sit there.

What if this is it? What if this is finally the thing that's too much, what if Eddie finally went too far, after all these years? There's a lot of things that he knows his uncle has forgiven him for, but a murder charge is asking an awful lot, what if he -

His uncle comes into view.

Steve is saying something, and there's some kind of response from Dustin, but Eddie can't hear any of it.

"Hi Uncle Wayne," he manages to get out.

Uncle Wayne drops the boxes he'd been carrying. They must have been empty, because there's barely a sound as they hit the floor, but Eddie doesn't really care, because his uncle is striding across the room in long, purposeful steps. He's there between one breath and the next, strong arms wrapped around Eddie as he pulls him into the kind of hug he hasn't done since Eddie got too tall to be tucked in under his chin.

His uncle's breath hitches, and it hits him that he's crying, and oh, fuck, that does Eddie in completely. He clings to him, trying his best to stifle his own sobs, hearing them come out in little hiccuping gasps anyway.

"We'll, uh, just go start loading things," he hears Steve say, and he registers the sound of footsteps walking away and the garage door opening and closing, but it just makes him hold onto his uncle tighter.

Somehow, they find their way to the couch, and then Eddie does have to pull away. He's healing up nicely, but there isn't a good angle for him to stay in his uncle's hold for much longer without something hurting.

Uncle Wayne notices it, of course, and his eyes scan over Eddie as they sit down. Eddie watches him register the dark sweats, the gray sweatshirt - neither of which are his, obviously - then move back up to his face.

"Are you hurt?" Uncle Wayne asks.

"I'm healing up," Eddie replies. "It, uh. It's kind of a long story. And a pretty unbelievable one."

Uncle Wayne raises his eyebrows. "Son, they've been trying to tell me that you hurt that girl and those other kids. No matter what you have to tell me, it's never going to be more unbelievable than that."

Tears sting at Eddie's eyes again, and he has to look down to try to get himself under control enough that he can actually talk.

Then he tells him.

Not everything - there's a lot of stuff that happened before spring break that he still isn't super clear on, and some things that aren't his to tell, but he gets out the basics. Hawkins Lab doing shady things, how they've been behind the strange deaths and the mall burning down, the existence of the Upside Down, the real story behind the Creels, that it was Henry Creel behind the deaths. The NDAs that the party had to sign, how everything's been covered up. How the others found him hiding, looked after him, looped him into everything. Nancy's vision, their plan to stop it, how it only half worked. Steve getting injured, Steve getting the others to stand up for him at the town hall meeting, Steve carrying him out of the Upside Down, Steve having him stay here to recover and stay hidden - so much of Steve that he has to clamp his mouth closed when he catches himself, cheeks flushed.

Uncle Wayne looks at him for a long moment. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

Eddie groans. There's no way his uncle doesn't already know, he clearly just wants to make Eddie say it. "Steve's my soulmate. Platonic soulmate," he adds quickly. "Steve's got two, and he's already found his romantic soulmate."

Uncle Wayne's brows draw down a little, like he's not sure if he should be concerned about that or not.

"It's okay," Eddie says without thinking, then has a brief moment of panic before he realizes it's not a lie. "It's okay," he says again. "I, uh. It's been good here. You know, apart from all the stitches and hiding from the police and not knowing if you were okay."

Uncle Wayne huffs out a disbelieving little laugh. "Oh, apart from that, huh?"

"Sorry about the trailer," Eddie says, very quietly.

"Oh, son," Uncle Wayne murmurs gruffly, reaching out to grip his shoulder and give him a gentle shake. "Now that I know you're okay, there's not a single thing in there that I can't afford to be without, all right?"

Eddie nods, afraid he'll sound too choked up if he says anything.

"I'm glad you're doing good here," Uncle Wayne says. "The fuss has died down, with the earthquake and all, but that Carver kid's got a small handful of diehards who're looking to stir up trouble."

Eddie grimaces. "Do me a favor and don't tell Steve that?"

His uncle raises one brow. "You trying to hide stuff from your soulmate?"

"It's not that I want to, it's just… Steve's protective. He's already saying that he won't claim his soulmate rights if I get found out before they work out a plan, that he'll go with me to prove I'm telling the truth."

Uncle Wayne frowns. "And you don't want him to?"

Eddie huffs out a laugh, dry and humorless. "I don't think the truth is going to matter to them much if they don't have someone else ready to blame them on, and I don't want Steve to go through that for nothing."

His uncle gives a thoughtful little hum. "You ask me, seems like Steve doesn't think it'd be for nothing."

Ugh, he should have known his uncle would be on Steve's side. He can't honestly say he minds, considering their side is the side that wants to get Eddie's name cleared, but still. "Yeah, well, like I said, Steve's just protective."

"Just protective." Uncle Wayne raises one eyebrow. "You gonna look me in the eye and tell me it ain't because that boy cares about you?"

Eddie can feel himself flushing almost immediately. Well, yeah. It's obvious Steve cares about him. They haven't dropped any kind of words about it yet - he doesn't think either of them are ready to actually say it, or to hear it - but Steve's actions kind of speak for themselves, and Eddie hopes that his own actions have done the same.

"No," Eddie admits. "I'm not going to tell you that."

He fiddles with the straps on his wrist brace, and his uncle - always able to figure out when there's something more going on - waits patiently.

"It's not my story to tell," Eddie says finally. "But Steve has been through a lot. He says it'd be fine, and I know he believes that, but - he also sat there with a straight face and told me he knows how to take a beating and keep going, and he'd rather it be him than any of us."

Surprise colors Uncle Wayne's expression for a moment, and then something in his eyes goes tight. Eddie recognizes that look. It's something like the one he'd gotten when he found out something that happened to Eddie - usually something that his dad taught him, or the handful of times his mom had gotten so drunk he'd had to watch over her in the bathroom, or the times he'd almost had a deal go bad. The things that his uncle's always said no kid should have to go through.

"This has been happening since 83," Eddie admits quietly. "They've all been dealing with this alone."

His uncle twists to look at the garage door for a long moment before turning back. "You call me if you get found," he says, more serious than Eddie's ever seen him. "You hear me? I'll be right there with the both of you."

Eddie swallows roughly, nodding.

"Promise me," Uncle Wayne insists. "No matter what it is, no matter what kind of thing happens - you call me. None of you are alone."

It takes Eddie a moment to get his voice back, but then he manages to get out, "I promise."

He'll have to talk it over with the others, of course, but he's pretty sure Steve and Robin are already on board, and he's got confidence that the three of them can convince the rest of the party.

Which is, admittedly, a little bit of a trip - that he's part of a monster hunting group now, that when he thinks about deciding as a party it's real. Ridiculously, that gets a little bit of a smile tugging at his lips.

Uncle Wayne looks closely at him. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"We're not alone anymore, either," he says, hears it come out almost shy, and makes a face at himself. "Just, uh. They've kind of decided I belong to them, and I'm not going to be the one to tell Nancy Wheeler or Erica Sinclair no, so."

"Good," his uncle says decisively, as if that's that, which -

Well.

Eddie guesses it is.

Uncle Wayne claps his hands on his knees, pushes himself up. "Let's see how those two have managed to get along."

He ambles over to the garage door, sticks his head out and calls for Steve to get on back in here.

There must be some kind of argument - Eddie can't hear it, but he's assuming there is, because somehow Steve manages to get Dustin to stay in the garage while he comes in alone.

Eddie stays where he is on the couch, trying to tell himself that there's no reason to be nervous. Steve'd talked to his uncle before, had managed to convince him to come to his house, but - that'd been before Uncle Wayne knew everything, knew they were soulmates.

It doesn't help that Steve's clearly a little nervous when he comes back in, too - or maybe he's picking up on Eddie's own nerves.

"So," Uncle Wayne says, looking Steve up and down. "You the one my nephew was always talking with?"

Eddie watches Steve's throat work as he swallows.

"Yes, sir," Steve says. And then he gets this look in his eyes - one that Eddie recognizes, that says he's terrified of what he's about to do but he's doing it anyway. "I'm the other little jackass with no impulse control."

Eddie lets out a squawk, the sound of which is drowned out by his uncle straight up guffawing, loud wheezing laughs that break the tension in the air.

Steve looks far too pleased with himself, even though his smile is this little tentative thing, so Eddie kicks out his foot to nudge Steve's ankle with his toes.

"I told you not to try to charm my uncle!" he protests.

"Charm me, huh?" Uncle Wanye asks, raising his eyebrows at Steve, who looks a little sheepish.

Uncle Wayne shakes his head. "Boy, you brought my kid back to me, and from what Eddie says, you've been keeping him safe here. There's nothing else you could do that'd top that, not as long as you keep treating him well."

Steve's quiet for a moment, and Eddie's pretty sure he wants to protest that it wasn't just him, but then he just nods.

"I'll take care of him. I promise," Steve says, holding out his hand.

Uncle Wayne reaches out to take it, giving it a firm shake before he pulls Steve into a hug.

Eddie can't see his uncle's face, but Steve looks at him all wide eyed and stiff, and Eddie just grins at him, shrugging.

He's already gearing up to tease him, but - then Steve takes a deep, shuddering breath, and hugs Uncle Wayne back, arms winding around him and holding on tight, and something about the sight of it makes Eddie avert his eyes.

Steve's parents haven't been home this whole time. Eddie hasn't asked - no one's mentioned it, like everyone's used to them being gone, and he kind of figures if Steve had anything more to say other than what he already had, other than what's obvious, he would.

But now he makes a note to mention it to his uncle, later. Now he thinks that as much as he's been adopted into this party - maybe his soulmate needs to be folded into Eddie's own little family of two.

They don't talk about it when they separate. Uncle Wayne just slaps Steve on the back, tells him to go finish up loading the truck, and he'll be out in a minute.

But when his uncle turns back to him, there's a look in his eye that tells him maybe Eddie won't have to mention anything at all.

"Maybe you could stay for dinner?" Eddie finds himself asking.

Uncle Wayne clears his throat, the way he does when he's feeling a little emotional about something. "Your boy already asked me, but it's better if I don't stay long. I don't want anyone to get to wondering what I'm doing lingering here."

It's a good point, Eddie knows it is, but he feels like he's fifteen and pissy again. "I hate this," he mutters. "I hate you being at that school."

Uncle Wayne cracks a grin. "Oh, I won't be. I've only been there trying to find a trace of you. Now that I know you're safe? Our insurance will be putting me up in the best hotel room Hawkins has. I knew paying the extra for earthquake coverage would come in handy."

And fuck if that doesn't make him feel worlds better.

"I'll leave the number with your friends," Uncle Wayne promises.

Eddie stands to hug him again, burying his face in his neck and holding on as tight as he can, like he never wants to let go.

Eventually, though, they have to pull away, and his uncle heads out into the garage.

There's a few beats of silence, as Eddie pulls in one ragged breath after another, trying to get himself back under control.

Then the garage door opens again, and Steve comes back in.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks, unable to stop himself from feeling a little jittery again.

"Fine, Dustin went back to the school with Wayne. I'll follow them in a bit to pick up him and Robin, I just, uh. Wanted to check on you," Steve says, making a little face at himself. "How did it go?"

Eddie can't help but be a little touched. "It went good. He believed me."

Steve nods. "Like you thought he would?"

Eddie - can't actually agree to that, he realizes. He's not confident enough that it would be the truth.

When he stays silent, Steve seems to get it.

"Will you tell me?" Steve asks, which - apparently is now their code for I'm not going to ask directly so you don't have to lie but I'll listen if you want.

Or at least, Eddie's going to assume it is, since he said it to Steve first.

"I just-" Eddie starts, then pauses to take a deep breath. "I know I'm a lot. There's a lot that my uncle's had to put up with, cause of me. I pushed him a lot the first year I moved in with him, trying to figure out what would be too much for him, but it never was. I guess I wondered if maybe this would be it."

"But it wasn't?" Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head. "No. It wasn't."

Steve just looks at him for a moment, like he's considering something. Then, "You're not too much, Eds."

Fuck.

"Don't you start, man," Eddie warns teasingly.

Steve huffs out a laugh. "All right, all right. Let's get you upstairs before I head out."

He thinks about protesting, but really, he's kind of grateful to be able to lean on Steve a little. Eddie doesn't want to admit to overdoing it, but he's pretty sure he overdid it.

"Oh, hey, I got something for you," Steve says once they're in the bedroom.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "But you already got me my uncle," he teases. "You keep going like this and I'll get spoiled."

Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie kind of means it. The longer he stays with Steve and Robin, the more he just. Kind of never wants to leave - or if he does, he wants Steve and Robin to move with him, he wants to stay in the same room and sleep in the same bed and have their toothbrushes in the same holder and his Yoohoo next to Steve's Gatorade and Robin's grape soda in the fridge.

It's stupidly domestic, which means Eddie's mostly trying to ignore it and just enjoy it while he has it.

Still, Steve's ears are a little bit pink, which gets him off that train of thought and makes him perk up. "Wait, seriously? When did you even have time to get me anything?"

"I got it a long time ago." Steve heads over to his desk, pulling open a drawer and rummaging around in it. Then he holds out a wooden box, pressing it into his hands. "Wanted to give it to you while we're alone."

Sure enough, it looks old. The wood is worn and a little dusty, and the hinges squeak a little as he opens it. It opens almost like a book, unfolding in a way that would make it easy to prop up on display - and when he gets a better look at it, it clearly is meant to display. There's a glass lining set in each half of the box, like two picture frames, except they hold a small collection of preserved butterflies.

It's, well. It's pretty fucking cool, and Eddie looks up at Steve, speechless.

Steve sits on the bed, rolling his pant leg up to the knee. He gestures at it, and Eddie can just make out Butterflies are so annoying, I hate them.

What.

That's.

Eddie just keeps looking at him, afraid that if he says anything it's going to be to tell Steve that god, he loves him.

He loves him.

"Oh," he manages to get out, shaky and breathless.

"Yeah," Steve says. "That was back when my dad still gave me advice sometimes and I gave a shit about following it. He said you should always have gifts ready for your soulmate, so they know you're thinking of them. Pretty sure he meant like diamonds and flowers and shit to bring back after you've been gone, but, you know. I figured this would be the kind of thing you like."

"You figured right. Fourteen year old me would have gone nuts over this," Eddie says, running his fingers over the glass. "Thank you, Steve. This, uh. Shit, this really means a lot."

Steve smiles at him, all pleased and fond, and the silence rests nice and comfy between them for a moment.

Then Steve pulls in a breath and lets it out, and Eddie's pretty sure he recognizes that particular blend of uncertainty and determination, and oh.

Oh no.

"Steve," he whispers. It comes out a little desperate, half a warning and half a plea.

He's not sure what he means by it. He's not even sure he knows what Steve's going to say - it could be a million things, honestly, just because Eddie is painfully aware that he can't keep convincing himself that their bond is at all platonic, at least on his end, doesn't mean that Steve's thinking the same thing.

Eddie just knows that he can't. He's not ready for this, he's not ready for any of it.

Steve seems to get something out of Eddie just saying his name, though, because he swallows, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Can we just think about it?"

Eddie finds himself nodding before he really realizes. "Yeah," he agrees. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay," Steve repeats.

Steve heads out to go get Dustin and Robin after that, and Eddie gets settled on the bed, taking another dose of meds and staring at the little preserved butterflies.

Think about it.

Fuck, everything has just been so much these last few weeks, and Eddie'd really, really like it to just… not. He's exhausted, all wrung out and hollow, and he just wants to close his eyes and not think about anything, but.

He said he would, and he wasn't lying when he said it, so he guesses he has to.

It's not that he can't share Steve with Robin, not by a long shot. He's well aware that it's Robin sharing Steve with him - and he knows that even if it were the other way around, even if Steve and Robin were platonic soulmates and Steve and Eddie were romantic, it would still be Robin sharing Steve with him. Steve and Robin have something that goes deeper than anything, something that Eddie couldn't touch even if he wanted, and he… he kind of likes that. The part of Steve that is Robin is just what makes him Steve, and Eddie's pretty on board with that.

It's just that he knows himself. He knows that if he kisses Steve - if it starts being something they do, if they let themselves go there - he's going to want to be the only one that Steve kisses.

It's not fair, not to anyone, but it is what it is. He's not sure he can change that part of himself, not even for Steve. So it's just better if they don't go there.

Now he just has to figure out how he's going to tell that to Steve, without any of it coming out as a lie.

Up next: the platonic/romantic lines get even more blurry, and a much less pleasant house call

-----

Part 21

Tag list (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

[staygoldwriting]

Eddie is the type of boyfriend to stutter and freeze when you so much as hold his hand. Poor boy is touched starved and just loves being near you. He can’t think straight when you’re around.

If you surprise him with a flower that you picked on the way to meet him “just because it reminded me of you” his face warms with a light blush. He presses every flower you give him in a lil songbook he has dedicated to you.

It is time for soft, first relationship Eddie 😌

🌹Now a series!! Part II is here🌹

Is this... my call to action??? To write the fluffiest thing I've ever done so far (maybe except for Bunny Garden)??? 😍

✨First Love✨

(in which y/n is a senior prep and best friends with Nancy, and Eddie is head-over-heels in love with her) 785 words

“Hey, Eddie, hi everyone!” you said cheerily as you approached the Hellfire table at lunch. 

Eddie looked up from his lunch to see you standing in front of him, a wide, sincere smile on your face. He blushed as you two met eyes, and as he went to smile, a little bit of chocolate milk came out of his mouth, causing him to hide his face in embarrassment. 

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” Mike asked, trying to draw attention away from a flustered Eddie.

“Well, I was up late baking cookies last night, and I called Nancy, and she said you all have a club meeting tonight? Hellfire, right?” you asked, pointing at their shirts.

“Yeah, why? You wanna join?” Gareth asked, snickering. Eddie, now recovered, kicked him in the leg.

“Well,” you said, looking from Gareth to Eddie, “I thought maybe you’d like some cookies for your meeting tonight,” you held out a tupperware. “I made some chocolate chip, some oatmeal cookies, and some lemon ones. If you’d like, I’d be really happy to share them with your club. And Mike can bring the tupperware home, I’m sleeping over with Nancy tomorrow anyway,” you smiled, bouncing on your heels. 

“Um, sure, yeah, thank you, Y/N,” Eddie said, holding a shaky hand out to receive the cookies. His hand brushed yours slightly, making his blush return. 

“I like your rings,” you said sweetly.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Eddie was completely red at this point. 

“Well, have fun, and let me know what everyone thinks of the cookies! Mike, don’t hog all the lemon ones! Oh, and good luck with ‘The Cult of Vecna’,” you said in a scary voice. 

Eddie’s heart soared when he heard you talk about Hellfire, as if Nancy Wheeler’s best friend would ever be interested in something like that. He knew you were always nice, but he convinced himself that you were just cordial for the sake of Mike. He secretly dreamt that he was the reason you were so nice, that maybe you wanted to be friends… or even more. 

“Ha, nice memory, Y/N!” Dustin cheered, snapping Eddie out of his trance.

“You can come by if you want,” Eddie said quickly, then instantly regretted it. He felt his ears get hot and his hands start to shake again, this time along with his breath. You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“I-I mean, you could, but I know you probably have better things to do--”

“No, I don’t!” you exclaimed. “I just didn’t think I could go to Hellfire! Isn’t it exclusive? I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything like that, D&D seems so special and precious to you guys, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that, and gosh, now I’m rambling, but yes, I would love to stop by if you all would be willing to have me.”

“Eddie might, but I’m not,” Jeff spat. “It is exclusive. A prep like you can’t just waltz in and--”

“Hey, come on, she’s cool!” Mike argued. 

“Yeah, and besides, you’re not the leader, Eddie is! He invited her so she can come,” Lucas added.

“It’s okay, I don’t want to cause any trouble,” you said sadly. “I’ll just ask you guys how it went on Monday. Thank you for the invitation though, Eddie.” 

As you left to turn around, Eddie glared at Jeff angrily. He was still blushing intensely, but it could easily be disguised as fury. You looked back, wringing your hands, then went to your table to grab something. As you walked back to the boys, the same look of shock reappeared on their faces. You stood there, shuffling your feet as you let out a breathy giggle.

“I don’t know if I can wait until Monday,” you chuckled, then nervously held out a piece of paper. “This is my number, Eddie. Maybe you can call me after and tell me the details?”

Eddie’s mouth hung open as he stared at you in disbelief. Frozen, Eddie tried to speak, but nothing worked. Dustin sighed loudly, took your number, then placed it in Eddie’s hand. As Eddie closed it, a goofy smile broke across his face. You blushed and smiled brightly as you saw his happy face.

“I’ll talk to you later then,” you said, turning to go back to Nancy, breathing a sigh of relief. You looked back to see Eddie gazing at you, still grinning widely. You waved sweetly, then, in a rush of confidence, blew him a kiss. 

Dustin groaned as Eddie’s face didn’t change. He pretended to catch the kiss, then slapped it on Eddie’s cheek, making you giggle. Meanwhile, Eddie’s heart was beating too much for him to care.

[toboldlygohome]

Oblivious

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: You are oblivious to all of Leonard's attempts to flirt and all of your friends think it's hilarious.

Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James "Jim" Kirk, Spock, Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu

Warning(s): Slightly cringe attempts at flirting, Painfully oblivious reader, Stephen King references

Leonard was finally ready to move on. The divorce had left him with wounds he wasn't sure he could heal from. He hadn't been interested in dating for years afterward. But for the first time since then, someone had caught his attention.

You were the new head of Archaeology aboard the enterprise. You had been transferred from the USS Celine to assist in the 5 year mission. To say you were new wouldn't be exactly correct, you had been on board for about 6 months already. You had taken to the position well and were already good friends with everyone in your unit, as well as all of the bridge and command personnel.

Leonard knew he liked you the moment you met. You had a firm handshake, a killer smile, and when Captain Kirk asked if you were single, you told him it wasn't his business. Jim's stunned face when you shook his hand and walked away was priceless.

Of course there were far more reasons to admire you other than your ability to take the captain down a peg. You were incredible at your job, finding ancient ruins in the most unlikely of places. You were like a dog when it came to fossils, sniffing them out almost as soon as you landed on alien soil. You were smart and always ready to answer questions. You were also highly tolerant of people's mistakes, something that was slowly rubbing off on him. When you were around, Leonard found he had more patience for stupidity and everyone else noticed as well.

You were kind, you were a great listener, you were hilarious, you were dependable, considerate, honest, cheerful, and you could always be counted upon for some witty banter. Not to mention you were the most beautiful person Bones had ever seen in his life.

That's not to say you didn't have your downfalls too, everyone does after all. You were self deprecating, a little easily distracted, and of course you were the most painfully oblivious person in the universe.

~~~

It all started one morning at breakfast. You were sitting in the cafeteria with Jim, Nyota, and Spock.

Leonard had made his decision the previous night while drinking with Jim. Bones wanted to pursue a relationship with you, but he wasn't going to just tell you point blank. He wanted to gauge your interest before taking that leap of faith.

"Mornin'" Leonard said as he sat down beside you. "Jim, you look terrible."

Jim, who was still hung over from the night before, frowned at the doctor. "Gee, thanks. I had no idea."

"You're welcome. Now Y/N on the other hand, you look great this morning," Bones smirked. Jim and Nyota immediately perked up, clearly not expecting him to be so forward (especially not this early in the morning.)

"Thanks Doc," You smiled at him and returned your attention to your oatmeal.

"What's your secret?" Asked Bones upon deciding that your smile was a good sign.

"My secret?" You raised an eyebrow.

"To looking so good every morning," he clarified. Nyota and Jim looked at each other incredulously.

"Ummmm," You thought out loud. "Get good sleep, take your vitamins, and don't get wasted at two in the morning." You patted Jim's shoulder and stood up with your empty bowl. "I better get to the lab, see you guys later!" You grinned.

Everyone bid you a good morning before gawking at Leonard, amusement etched on their faces. "What's your secret? Did you seriously ask 'what's your secret?'"Jim cackled.

"Leonard, you seriously need to up your flirting game." Uhura barely stifled a giggle.

"I know it's been awhile doc but seriously, that was terrible! And I've heard Spock's attempts at flirting," Kirk snickered.

"It wasn't that bad, y'all are acting like I'm some cretin who stole their oatmeal and called it flirting. I called them attractive, get off my back." Leonard rolled his eyes.

"No, you said they looked good. That could be interpreted in, so many ways. As far as flirting goes, that was pretty pathetic." Nyota said.

"I would have to agree doctor, perhaps you could take instruction from the captain or even-" Spock started.

"Shut up and eat your breakfast," Leonard snapped, causing another fit of giggles around him.

Bones sat there, glaring into his eggs, trying to figure out where he went wrong. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that Uhura was right. You didn't realize he meant it in a romantic way. Maybe he was more out of practice than he thought. He was just going to have to give it another shot. Practice makes perfect after all.

~~~

The next day, Leonard tried a different approach. Coffee mug in hand, he made his way to your office only to find it empty. He looked all over the labs, nowhere to be seen. It wasn't until made it up to the bridge that he found you deep in a discussion about landing sites for an upcoming mission.

Your head perked up when you saw the doctor come in from the turbolift. "Ahoy, McCoy! We missed you at breakfast this morning." you smiled as he came to stand beside you.

"Sorry darlin', had some gamma shift engineers to patch up." Bones casually passed the mug over to you. "Made you some coffee."

"Really? for me?" You peered into the cup and beamed, "thank you doctor, it's just how I like it!" Jim gave Leonard a subtle thumbs up while you sipped your drink.

Leonard had a good feeling this time. You were happy with the gesture and even Kirk seemed impressed. It felt like a good first step, until-

"First Chekov brings me a croissant, then McCoy brings me a coffee. I'm so lucky to have such great friends. Thank you guys!" You smiled at the two men.

"You are very welcome!" Pavel grinned.

Leonard's mood plummeted almost instantly. While he was glad you got to enjoy a croissant and a coffee, Chekov's untimely generosity made his romantic gesture seem more like a friendly one. He was going to have to go back to the drawing board.

You turned to the captain, cradling your warm cup in your hand. "Is there anything else you need of me Captain?"

"No Commander, I believe you've answered all my questions," Jim said.

"Wonderful! If anyone needs me, I'll be in the lab trying to decode some ancient texts," you took another sip of your coffee before strolling back to the turbolift.

Once you were out of sight, Jim patted Leonard on the arm. Sulu and Chekov were trying their damnedest not to laugh, and failing miserably of course.

Leonard furrowed his brows at the two of them before looking back at Jim's cheeky grin.

"You told them?" Leonard scowled.

"Told them what?" Jim laughed.

"About..." Leonard rolled his eyes and gestured to the turbolift.

"The only ones I told were Uhura and Spock," Jim assured.

"He didn't need to tell us anything, It's written all over your face Dr. McCoy," Sulu said.

"Yes, you get all red in the cheeks and you have this look in your eyes like you've seen the sun for the first time. It is very obvious you are vying for the Commander's attention," Chekov agreed.

"If I'm so obvious, why isn't Y/N picking up on it?" Leonard crossed his arms.

"Maybe you need a new approach, try... I don't know, making up new excuses to spend time with them. Or maybe you could try touching them," Jim suggested.

"Touching them?"

"Yeah, nothing inappropriate or anything. Just little things, like pats on the back, nudging their shoulder. Stuff like that. Might show Y/N you're interested without having to use the words, you know?"

"I don't know Jim..."

"Look, you're a doctor right?"

"I hope that'd be pretty goddamned obvious by now," Leonard glowered and put his hands on his hips.

"And as a doctor, you have a pretty good gauge on if someone's uncomfortable right?" Jim asked, "just try it and if you get the sense they're uncomfortable, just stop doing it. Easy as that."

"Why do I get the feeling it's not going to be as 'easy as that?'" The doctor shook his head.

"Because you are an incorrigible pessimist, Bones." Jim patted his shoulder.

"I'm done here, some of us actually have work to do," Leonard grumbled and trudged to the turbolift.

"All work and no play makes McCoy a dull boy," Kirk beamed.

"Quote Stephen King to me one more time. See what happens." Bones said as the doors closed. Alone in the elevator, he allowed himself to think about where to go from here. Perhaps Jim's ideas weren't so terrible. He rather liked the idea of spending more time with you. He usually talked with you during mealtimes and meetings, but not much outside of that. The touching is what was making him nervous.

He came into contact with people all the time, being a doctor was a very hands-on profession. He just didn't have Jim's level of confidence anymore. It felt ridiculous, he could stitch a man's thumb back to his hand and deliver an infant in the middle of a battle, but he couldn't touch your shoulder? Maybe he'd just skip that step for now. Quality time, that seemed like as good of a direction as any.

~~~

He continued bringing you coffee every day, It gave him more time to get to know you and Leonard was falling harder by the minute. He hadn't really looked forward to anything in a long time, but he looked forward to your coffee talks. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough anymore. The chats weren't long enough and you still weren't catching on to his feelings.

It had been a particularly stressful day, it felt like everyone needed something from him and he was in desperate need of a break. The moment things got quiet in the medbay, Leonard snuck away and his feet carried him to the archaeology labs.

It was quiet inside. A few ensigns were at work in their stations, putting together fossilized bones and carbon-dating old tools. Leonard found you in the back of the lab where you were busy decoding some old scrolls. Learning to understand a lost language was no easy task; Leonard couldn't fathom the amount of reading it would take to accomplish such a thing. Still, you seemed ready to take on anything the Captain dished out.

"Commander, I see you're hard at work," Bones smiled and came to stand beside you.

"I see you're not!" You joked and looked up at him from your seat. "What brings you to my neck of the woods doctor? Did I forget about an appointment?"

"Not at all, I was just taking a break and wanted to see how you were doing," he said, hoping you would understand what he was trying to say: that he was thinking of you and wanted to see you out of everyone else on the Enterprise.

"Well I'm really glad you're here Len, because I've just made a breakthrough!" You beamed. "Take a look at this," you motioned for him to look closer.

Leonard leaned in to look at your scroll. "So, you know how I found these papers in a box under the Mofeli excavation right?"

"Mhm, you insisted there must be a basement and you found one," Bones hummed.

"I originally thought the site was a business, that these papers must be some sort of documentation. You know, like land deeds, proof of insurance, perhaps even money. Basically stuff you would usually keep in a lock box, but these aren't ledgers or inventory slips or anything like that at all."

"What are they?" He turned to look at you.

You met his gaze and gave him a grin that could melt the ice caps and outshine Sirius. "They're love letters," you said and his heart hammered his chest painfully. He was only just now realizing how close he was to you. How his hand was resting on your back, how his face was mere inches from yours.

"See, if you look here you'll find this symbol all over the place in these letters. It's the symbol meaning love or lover. I've completed the translation on this one right here." You returned your attention to the paper. Leonard swallowed and glanced at the sheet, trying his damnedest not to stare like some creep.

"What, um... what does it say?" He cleared his throat.

"It says, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'My dearest love, I find words elude me. My heart blossoms for you under the light of the sun and keeps me warm when the light fades. I find not the courage to speak, but many a whim to write. I desire your embrace. I seek your song. I crave your hand. I covet your blazing eyes. One day I-' This part is all faded so I can't make it out, but the last thing it says here at the bottom is 'May our hearts and bodies be intertwined for eternity, and our souls may sing together as one.' Then there's what I assume to be a name at the bottom, but I'm not sure how to pronounce it."

"It all sounds a little sappy to me," Leonard joked in a slightly strained voice. This whole thing with the closeness and the touching and the letter was really affecting him. If you noticed his struggle, you gave no indication, In fact, you seemed perfectly at ease being this close to him.

"Hey, a little sap never hurt anybody," you elbowed him lightly in the side.

"Croakus sap can."

"Touché"

Leonard chucked softly and lightly patted your back before crossing his arms casually over his chest Your easy conversation was already helping him relax again. "so, Commander, you've been down here in your lab for an awfully long time. What do you say we go for a walk to the observation lounge?"

"Sorry doctor, I would but somebody's got to make sure the ensigns don't blow the place up. That, and Spock wants me to finish three more translations by the end of my shift," you explained.

"Of course he does," Leonard huffed.

"But I'm free this evening if that works for you?" You tilted your head.

"Of course, absolutely." Leonard had no idea if that was going to work for him, but he was going to make it work.

"Great, I'll see you then," you said with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.

"See you then. Don't work too hard," he smiled and left you to your translating.

Bones was pleased with himself. He had managed to follow Jim's suggestions and they appeared to work. He'd even managed to secure a date with you later that evening...Well...he hadn't actually called it a date when he suggested it. No matter, Leonard would just clarify all that the next time he saw you!

~~~

He never got to make the distinction that your walk was intended to be a date. You had brought a friend with you. Leonard could feel the fear in your ensign companion's eyes. Bones was sure everyone on the goddamned ship knew what he was trying to do but you. It was still a nice night despite the unwanted guest. He learned a lot about where you grew up, your interests, and your favorite films and music. He learned your favorite flower was the iris, your first job was a librarian, he even learned you were in a band during your time at the academy.

The more he learned, the more he liked you. He wasn't even sure if liked was the right word anymore. You had quite a few things in common. Your favorite foods, you liked the same movies, and you enjoyed the same music. You asked him questions that got him really thinking. They were the sort of topics you don't realize you have an opinion on until you start talking about them. But what surprised him most of all was when you asked about his daughter. What sort of interests does she have? How is she doing in school? I wonder if she would like X,Y, and Z. He was always hesitant to talk about Joanna or his ex, but it felt easier with you. Like that wound he had been carrying for so long was finally closing.

Your friendship progressed beautifully, but he felt like you were growing more and more blind to his advances. He had seen you turn plenty of people down before. If you weren't interested in someone, you made it abundantly clear. But you had yet to do the same with Bones. It wasn't just him: Jim, Nyota, Pavel, Scotty, Hikaru, and pretty much everyone else who knew you were puzzled as well. Even Spock couldn't understand how you were so incognizant. It was funny for them at first. They would laugh at every compliment you didn't register, every smile you didn't realize had meaning, every coffee, every walk to the deck, every deep conversation, every breath of relief when you come back from a mission. He was even so bold as to tell you in no uncertain terms that he'd do anything to make you smile.

The laughter turned into looks of pity. Leonard was about ready to give up. Maybe you weren't interested and you just wanted to let him down easy, you were good friends after all. Bones sat at the bar as Jim poured him another glass. Normally he was the one playing bartender, but Jim insisted he take over.

"I gotta say Bones, I really hate seeing you like this." Jim poured himself a drink too. "How did lunch go?"

"I told them they have beautiful eyes." Leonard sighed and shook his head.

"And?" The Captain probed.

"They said 'if only they worked as well as they look,'" Bones groaned.

"Ah..." Jim stared into his drink. He tried to put himself into Leonard's shoes. What would he do if he were in this situation?

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong..." McCoy muttered.

"You aren't doing anything wrong, Y/N just-" Jim started.

"It's something I'm doing, it has to be. Maybe this is a mistake."

"No, Bones it's not a mistake. That couldn't be farther from the truth."

"And how would you know? It's not like you have any problems finding dates," Leonard rolled his eyes.

"Seems like Y/N's not the only one who's oblivious," Kirk chuckled.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes Jim." Leonard took a sip of his whiskey and ran a hand over his face.

"Believe me Bones, I wish it were a joke. There's just no way the two most unaware people are head over heels for each other. I'm waiting for the punch line" James smirked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bones scowled.

"Look, just... we have shore leave coming up in a few weeks. Ask them on a date. Like really ask them. Be frank, be clear, make sure there is no way Y/N can misunderstand you. Trust me," Jim squeezed Leonard's shoulder.

"Fine. But if this goes south, you owe me as many drinks as it takes to forget this whole debacle." The doctor downed the last of his glass.

"Bones if this goes south, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't have a hat."

"Point still stands. It'll work, you just have to have a little faith. And lucky for you, I have enough faith for the both of us." Jim winked.

Leonard wished he had Jim's enthusiasm. Officious little prick, he thought to himself...Dammit, now I'm quoting Stephen King.

~~~

Shore leave was just around the corner and Leonard was no closer to his goal of asking you on a date. Everyone was running around, trying to prepare the ship for inspection, he still had his normal duties to attend to, neither of you had time for coffee all week, Spock was being especially nitpicky about protocol, and he was anxious about what you'd say when he eventually got around to asking the million dollar question.

Yeah, Leonard was about ready to lose his marbles.

He was prepping the supply storage units, when Spock strolled in for the tenth time that day.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock greeted, startling Bones to the point that he nearly dropped his box of gauze.

"My god man, what the hell do you need this time?" Leonard implored, "don't you have anything better to do with your day than pester me?"

"Indeed I do, doctor" Spock replied.

Leonard huffed and sat down his box, "then what is it, did you miss my face or something?"

"I saw your face only moments ago, I have no need to miss-"

"It was a joke Spock, what do you want?" Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I came to inform you that I saw Commander Y/L/N coming in this direction." Spock stated.

Leonard raised an eyebrow, "and?"

"It is my understanding you are anxious to speak with them regarding your-" Spock started.

"Your understanding is correct, I just..." Leonard sighed and shook his head.

"Would it help if I told you the odds that they will say yes?" Spock asked.

"Never tell me the odds Spock," Leonard grumbled.

"Then I will simply say, good luck." Spock turned and left again, leaving Bones to decide if he was ready for this. He didn't have time for a decision, because there you were in the doorway with two mugs in your hands.

"Hey, stranger," You laughed. "Looks like I got here just in time, you look like you need some." You handed over the cup and Leonard took it gratefully.

"Thanks," Leonard offered you a smile and took a sip from his mug. It was just how he liked it, right down to the temperature. Together, they retreated to the safety of his office. Once inside, they fell into their usual conversation. He waited until things got quiet, then he decided to go for it.

"So, got any plans for shore leave?" Leonard asked, leaning back in his chair in an effort to appear more at ease.

"No, not really. Maybe I'll visit with a couple friends, catch up on sleep. How about you? got any exciting plans?" You leaned in, resting your chin on your hand.

"Not yet," he admitted. "But I'm hoping to make some."

"Oh? You got someone special in mind?" You hummed.

"Someone incredibly special, yeah." Leonard smiled. So far, so good.

"Oh, well I hope it goes well." You shifted awkwardly in your seat.

"Me too..." Leonard agreed. You both didn't speak for a moment, the distant hum of the warp core did little to tame the silence.

"Hey Y/N... I was thinking maybe we could go to that restaurant you like, you know the one with the really good Chicken Parmesan you're always talking about." He mused, "what do you think?"

"I, um... I think they'd like it" The smile you gave him looked...sad?

"What are you talking about? Who'd like it?" Leonard couldn't possibly be more confused.

"Your special someone?" It was your turn to look confused.

You've got to be kidding me

"I'm talking about you darlin', do you want to go to that restaurant with me, just us, nobody else. You and me. Together." Leonard clarified, meeting your gaze.

You looked positively flabbergasted. He couldn't possibly mean what he was saying, right? There was no way Leonard wanted to... I mean, he was way too good for you! You had been trying for months to get his attention, to no avail. This must be a dream. You're going to wake up any minute.

"Darlin'?"

"I, uh...what?" You blinked out of your daze.

"Dammit Y/N, I'm trying to ask you out on a date!" Bones ran a hand through his hair, exasperation evident in his tone.

"Really? Me?" You asked hopefully.

"Yes!" He replied "Look, it's okay if you don't w-" You suddenly burst into laughter and all the words died on his lips. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! It's just-" You giggled, "I actually came here to do the same thing..." You said sheepishly as you dug into your pocket "I, um... I got us tickets to see your favorite band. Figured if you said no, you could just take Jim instead." You handed the tickets over to him.

Leonard stared at the tickets in his hand, shock written all over his face. "Sweetheart, are you telling me we've both been dancing around each other for months, when we could have been doing stuff like this the whole time?"

"Seems that way, yes."

Leonard smiled and shook his head. "We're not very good at this, are we?"

"Not at all," You laughed. "Ahoy McCoy? What was I thinking?"

"Points for creativity darlin'," Bones chuckled. He almost couldn't believe things had turned out so perfectly. But in his experience, coincidence didn't exist. "Jim knew, didn't he?"

"He was actually the one who pushed me to come here," you admitted.

"Same. The bastard told me you'd say yes... Guess this was one of the few times I should have trusted him." Leonard concurred.

"So... What now, doctor?" You leaned a little closer. How had he never noticed your eyes before. He knew they were beautiful of course, but the way they were looking at him now made him weak in the knees. Had you always looked at him like that?

"Well, for now we're going to finish up our shifts, wouldn't want anyone to think we're slackers. But later, we're going to meet at the recreation room for a drink, possibly a game of darts. Then we'll see where the night takes us," McCoy smirked.

"How romantic, I can hardly wait for you to sweep me off my feet, they're killing me from all this running around, you know?~" You mused, resting your chin on your palm.

"Now you listen here darlin'. I'm a doctor, not a broom." Bones couldn't hide his amusement when you rolled your eyes at him.

"Well, what if I sweep you off your feet then?"

"You'll have to be careful, you might drop me and we could end up tangled in a whole mess of limbs."

"Oh, I'm counting on it.~" You teased.

Leonard swallowed hard and hid his bashfulness with a sip of his coffee, "Well in that case, sweep away."

You laughed again and McCoy was sure he had never heard a more beautiful sound in his life. He could see a future with you then. He wanted to sweep you off your feet, kiss you until you were breathless, share coffee with you early in the morning, and swap stories until late in the night. He wanted to introduce you to his daughter.

Baby steps.

"I hate to cut this short doctor, but I left the ensigns alone for too long, I'm worried there will be no lab to return to. I'll see you tonight?" You asked, fidgeting nervously with cuffs of your sleeves.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm not going to change my mind." Leonard smirked.

You blushed and smiled in relief, "good! Great!" You stood, grabbed your mug, and sauntered happily to the door. You paused just a moment and looked back at Bones sweetly. "See you later, handsome."

"See you later Y/N," replied Leonard. You gave him a cute little wave before hurrying back to the labs.

Once he was alone again in his office, Bones leaned back in his seat and admired the tickets on the desk. He almost couldn't believe how thoughtful you were, but this wouldn't be the first time you gave him an incredible gift. A couple months after you met, Bones had mentioned offhandedly that he missed a particular brand of whiskey from Earth. Despite being light years away, you managed to find some and give it to him. It wasn't even a special occasion, you got it just to make him happy. Leonard supposed he should have realized your feelings for him right then and there. Damn. He really was oblivious.

McCoy wanted to give you something tonight- no, he needed to give you something tonight. Something sweet, something romantic, something that says: 'you're special to me and I need to show it to you because I'm terrible with words'. But where was he going to find something like that on a starship? The botany labs. Flowers make for a great gift on a first date! Maybe if he was lucky, they would have irises growing down there. So what if bouquets are a little sappy?

A little sap never hurt anybody after all.

[604to647]

Mi Galleta (Part 4 - Oatmeal Raisin)

6.4K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Pero tries to get back in your good graces.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), angst, reader is hard on herself, pining, pet names (Cookie, princesa, hermosa, etc.), standard warning for Biker!Pero even though this isn't a biker AU, reader can wear Pero's shirt, eventual smut, unprotected PiV, oral (f receiving), they are IN LOVE OKAY 🥹

A/N: It's a HEA, don't worry! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along with this mini-series! I can't believe I completed something 🥹

Series Masterlist

Pero is desperate to see you and to serve his penance for whatever you may have heard, but you won’t return any of his messages and all his calls go straight to voicemail; he’s pretty sure he’s been blocked.  Of course, he knows where you work and where you live, but he doesn’t want to scare you or make any of your spaces feel unsafe by showing up unwanted and unannounced, so he doesn’t go to you.  But it’s killing him.

You don’t come to the restaurant and neither do your friends.  In fact, the closest Pero comes to you for a month is when he spots Dorothy leaving one of Lin’s sister restaurants.  He had stopped by to grab some paper work when he sees her getting her coat from the coat check; after he calls her name, he watches her internally debate whether or not to ignore him, eventually separating from her party to stalk over to where he's awkwardly waiting.

“How is she?” he begs, unable to muster even a greeting or something remotely more eloquent.

Dorothy extends her hand and points her index finger directly into his chest, the force with which she pokes him shoving him back, “Leave her alone or I’ll make your life a living hell.”

She stomps off without another word, and he’s left feeling even worse than before; he can only imagine that Dorothy’s ire is reflective of yours.

He has to talk to you, has to know what you heard those assholes say so he can explain and soothe away the hurt caused.  But he doesn’t know how.

---

It’s worse than Pero thinks.  He’s broken you.  You remember sharing with him your insecurities surrounding letting your family’s wealth, or money in general, define you; Pero had nodded sympathetically as you explained how important it is for you to carve something into this world beyond the privilege that’s so plainly etched into your very presence.  It would be one thing if he thought you silly.  But this… to know that money is all he saw when he looked at you?  To hear Pero, William and those men reduce you to nothing more than a rich bitch, and write you off as unworthy of respect, undeserving of true affection?  It made you feel dirty.  Your money made you dirty.

You’re humiliated.  And your heart is broken.

You’re hard on yourself.  How could you have been so stupid?  Did you really think a few cookies and a kind smile would truly win over a man who abhorred snobbery?  He must have pegged you for an empty, vapid trophy fuck the first time he met you when you were just some entitled brat who wanted to eat at a fancy restaurant.  Why would he ever think differently of you?  How stupid of you to think he might.

Once in a while, you will recall Pero’s whispered sweet nothings and his soft touches, and your eyes will well up immediately.  He had fooled you so good.  You wonder if it disgusted him to pretend to care for you when he actually found you pathetic.  Or did it amuse him how easily you had fallen for his charms? Did he laugh at your dumb naïve heart?  You hate yourself a little for being so stupid. 

And you hate yourself a lot for still missing him.

“Guess what?” asks your boss, excited.

“What?” you can’t help but grin.  Greg is a good boss.  He’s mentored and trained you, and for the past few years, he’s treated you like his co-lead on the team, giving you the opportunities and responsibilities to help you rise in your career; broadcasting your value to the firm by seeking and relying on your opinions and decisions.  He’s a good egg.  You’re really lucky.

“Joanna is coming to town!”

Ahhh… Joanna is Greg’s boss.  She’s a good boss too, just a bit more restrained in her positive feedback than Greg would probably like; more than once you’ve surmised that Greg cultivated with you the type of mentor-mentee relationship that he had hoped for with Joanna.  Still, she’s an important figure at the firm and Greg loves impressing her. 

“That’s great!  Where are we going for lunch?” your eyes twinkle; if there was one thing Joanna likes, it was going out to eat on the company’s dime.

“Well… I need to ask a favour.”

“Ask away,” you smile, if you can help Greg get on Joanna’s good side, you’re happy to do it.

“I know you’ve been to that restaurant Lin?  The one on Cardero and has the rave reviews for its fusion food?  Joanna read about it and wants to go.”

Your heart drops the moment he says the name of the restaurant, but you successfully keep a placid expression in place and nod.

“I heard it’s hard to get into.  Impossible.  No, actually, I can’t even find out how to do it?  Do you have any idea?  Or… do you think you could get us in?” Greg puts his hands up in prayer and makes a puppy dog face at you, complete with comical pout.

It’s been almost two months since the day you had run away from Lin; no, since the day when those disgusting words and the sound of Pero’s cruel laugh had chased you out.  You and your friends haven’t been back, and to be honest, you haven’t done much going out since.  Eloise and Dorothy were perfectly happy to stay in with you, watch old movies, drink wine and wallow, but you hadn’t wanted them to miss out on the city scene; besides, as you reminded them, it was their job to go out.  So, at your insistence, they had gone back to the social scene, leaving you at home with your still very broken heart.  The idea of seeing Pero, of asking him for a favour, gives you a stomach ache just thinking about it.  Would he laugh in your face?  Pretend he didn’t know you?  Some other equally awful possibility your imagination isn’t masochistic enough to come up with?  Probably.  But, Dorothy did say she had a run in with Pero at another restaurant a couple of weeks ago; perhaps he no longer worked at Lin.  You wrestle internally with whether or not you want that to be true, but agree with Greg that it’s worth you giving it a try.

Pero barely registers when a group of patrons file into the lobby, most of them stepping aside into the waiting area, probably waiting for all of their party to show up.  He gives them a cursory glance while maintaining his glowering expression; he counts seven (so far) office workers.  After less than a minute, a man and a tall woman who’s impeccably dressed, walk in.  The man is chatting excitably to her, and she is giving him polite responses while taking in the surroundings of the lobby with an air of condescension.  Unexpectedly, they also move aside to join the group that’s waiting.  Pero would have thought these two were heading up the party, but he doesn’t have any time to register his surprise because the figure that was hidden by theirs, revealed when they moved to the side, is yours.

Although you’re not making eye contact with him, you do continue walking towards him and Pero’s heart leaps into his throat; he holds his breath until you reach his desk.

“Hi,” you finally raise your eyes to look at him. 

“Hi,” he exhales.  His heart hurts.  Your eyes seem dimmed, and you look like you’re trying to make yourself small, like you would rather be anywhere but here.

“I’m sorry to have to ask.  My boss’ boss is in town,” you give a small smile when you look over and nod in their direction before turning back to Pero, “She really wanted to eat here, and my boss really wants to impress her.  Do you think it would be possible?  I’m sorry to ask this of you.”

Pero can’t stop looking at you.  You’re more beautiful than he remembered.  And still so sweet and kind.  Even now, it’s clear you don’t want to be here, but you’re extending yourself to help someone else.  He wishes you knew you didn’t have to apologize.  He would never deny you anything, happily give you anything you desired, “It’s not a problem, you don’t need to apologize.  How many are you?  I’ll call up to Leah to expect you.”

“Leah?!” your face lights up knowing that one of people you were closest to at the restaurant is working today, “Oh!  I’m so glad! We’re ten, thank you.”

So thrilled and relieved to see your smile, Pero can’t help but break out into a grin himself, breaking the illusion of the fearsome bouncer he’s supposed to be, “She’ll be glad to see you as well.  Come on, call your party over.”

After everyone has filed into the elevator, you step in last and watch as Pero reaches in to press the button; for the first time today, you really look at him and mouth, “Thank you.”

Upstairs, you find Leah waiting for you with a big smile and an even bigger hug; after an enthusiastic greeting to you and your party, she leads you to one of the best tables in the restaurant.  You see Greg giving you a discreet thumbs up as Joanna looks around the large dining room, marveling at the elegant décor. 

“We would like to offer you our Chef’s tasting menu today.  It’s 12-courses, chef’s choice of his favourite dishes.”

“Oh!“ you look at Greg unsure, and he in turn also looks very unsure, especially when he sees Joanna smiling broadly; it sounds very expensive, maybe too expensive for a corporate lunch.  You’re just contemplating how you can manage to discreetly cover some of the cost when Leah shocks you, “Everything today is complimentary, please don’t be shy.  It’s everyone at Lin’s pleasure to have you as our guests.”

“Leah,” you start to protest, but she shushes you with a knowing look in her eye and a conspiratorial smile.

“That sounds wonderful!” exclaims Joanna, and when you see how she beams, impressed, at Greg, you nod in assent at Leah, who grins back at you.  After she leaves to put in everyone’s drink order, you excuse yourself and follow her.

“LEAH!!” you hiss, when you catch-up to her next to the kitchen.

“Yes?” she looks up at you with an innocent expression.

“That’s too much! Let me pay for some of this!”

“No can do, hun.  I’m under strict orders to spare no expense for your table today.  Give your boss’ boss the VIP experience.”

“Oh Leah,” you soften.

“He misses you.”

You don’t have a response to that.

“And he’s been a miserable grump to everyone at the restaurant.”

This you can easily believe, “I’m sorry, Leah.  He… broke my heart.”

She looks at you like maybe she knows something you don’t, but also with something like sympathy; after another hug she makes a silly shooing motion with her hands, “Go on back to the table.  Drinks and the first course will be out shortly.”

Lunch is superb.  Each course more tantalizing than the last.  One might have thought 12 courses was too many, but each dish is perfectly portioned and sequenced so that the flavours of each course build upon the one previous, culminating in one very satisfying meal.  Elevating the food to another level is the impeccable service and attention that you and your table receives.  It seems like your party is attended to by more than twice the usual staff; each person’s needs anticipated before they can even voice them, leaving them wanting for nothing.  At one point, you choke down a chuckle because it reminds of you those regency dinner scenes where each diner has a footman standing right behind them; it’s almost too much, but Joanna is eating it up.  Greg is elated, and you couldn’t be more pleased at seeing him triumph. 

When the after-meal coffee and tea is served, a giant cookie is wedged between your cup and its saucer; ginger molasses, your favourite.  You take a nibble and it’s heavenly.

“Hey!  How come the rest of us don’t get cookies?” jokes one of your teammates.  You look around and realize it’s true, you’re the only one that got a cookie.

Leah is quick to answer, “It’s an apology cookie.  For our lackluster performance the last time she was here.”

You know the true meaning behind the gesture and these words, but you can’t help but shake your head, “Don’t be ridiculous, no apology is necessary.  And even if one was warranted, which it is NOT, today’s exemplary service and food would have been more than enough.  We couldn’t be more impressed.  Thank you so, so much.”

Your table mates echo your sentiments and thanks.

Before you leave you leave the restaurant with your team, you force Leah to process a generous tip for all the staff on your card; she tries to protest but stops when you give her a scowl that you think would rival Pero’s.  Giving her a hug goodbye, coupled with a promise that you’ll try to come back soon, you ride the elevator back downstairs a jumble of emotions.

There’s no doubt in your mind that the special treatment your table received today was at Pero’s behest, but why would he bother?  It was enough that he had granted your party access, nothing else had been expected or needed; but the staff had gone out of their way to make sure your experience had been special, that Joanna was impressed and wowed.  You sneak a look at Greg’s expression next to you; he’s positively glowing.  You decide that you could drive yourself crazy trying to understand Pero’s motivations, but the important thing was that he had gone to great lengths for you when he didn’t need to and you’re extremely grateful.

You find that you don’t dread seeing him now the same way you did when you came in earlier, actually looking forward to thanking him for the kindness he has just shown you and your co-workers.

You’re the last to leave elevator and by the time Pero’s desk comes into view, you see that half of your teammates have already exited the building.  Ahead of you, Greg is earnestly shaking Pero’s hand, thanking him for his hospitality and singing the praises of the restaurant.  When you see Pero’s kind expression and the sincerity with which he clasps Greg’s hand in thanks, your already softening heart melts a little more.

Finally, it’s your turn. Pero’s been waiting for you.  Waiting since the elevator doors closed earlier.  Waiting since the day he knew you were last in this very lobby.  Your eyes don’t leave his as you approach; he thinks the expression in your eyes is a little softer than earlier, a little bit of the light that he’s missed is back.  For a what feels like an eternity, neither of you say anything, then simultaneously,

“Cookie…”

“Thank you.”  Pero gestures for you to go first.

“Pero, thank you.  The lunch was such a success and an incredible dining experience in and of itself.  I know it was all because of you.  Thank you.”

“Cookie.  Not me.  It was because of you.  Everything was for you,” Pero’s tone soft and pleading.  He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he can barely contain his emotions.  To have you here before him, your sweet face looking at him like you with something that isn’t the imagined hate that’s been haunting him – it's all he’s been hoping for for the past two months.

You don’t know what to say.  Why would he do this for me?

About to thank him again, you’re stopped when Pero holds something out to you.  It’s an empty container.  The one previously filled with the snickerdoodles you had forgotten on his desk the last time you were in this lobby.  Everything comes rushing back now.  Your chest tightens at the memory of the crass and demeaning words you overheard and the harshness of Pero’s cruel laughter that still rings in your ears.  And just like that, your good mood is shattered, much like your heart. 

You take the container back, hands shaking, and mumble another thanks; leaving quickly before you start to cry.

Pero stares at your retreating form, knowing that you’re hurting and feeling helpless that he can’t do anything but be the cause.

---

You’re unable to concentrate on anything once you get back to work, still reeling from the whiplash of emotions you’ve experience since seeing Pero again.  Luckily, despite your boss’ boss’ presence, the entire department seems to have collectively decided to forgo doing any work for the rest of the day, instead chatting happily about the experience at Lin and upcoming weekend plans.  Glad for everyone’s distracted state, you attempt to process your feelings.  Toying mindlessly with the cleaned container that was returned to you today, you open it when you feel the slight weight of something move inside.  Reaching in, you find a piece of paper, folded several times; when unfurled, you realize it’s a letter.

Cookie,

I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what you overheard the day you left me the cookies that came in this container, but I have to apologize for your ears ever being exposed to anything so offensive and vile; I won’t give it any credence by repeating any of it.  

The people responsible no longer work here and have not since the moment William and I were able to express our disgust for their comments.  If for even a second you felt that there was any truth to what was said about you, I am truly sorry – I cannot bear it actually, because, princesa, you mean more to me than you can fathom.

I would do anything for you.  Serve you willingly.  Do anything to see you smile or bring you a moment’s joy.  Cookie, I love you. I didn’t want the first time I said it to be in a letter, but it’s possible this may be my only chance, so here it is. I love you.

I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you; the day you came in looking for Lin felt like first day of the rest of my life.  What did I ever do to deserve you even looking my way?  I’m just a grumpy asshole.  But you’ve lit up my life every day since you entered it.  

I didn’t know life could be so sweet until I met you, my Cookie.  

Te amo, princesa,

Pero

You read it three times.  So he did think what was said about you was horrible.  But then… why did he laugh with them?  At you?  You suppose that if he truly thought you as worthless as those men, he wouldn’t feel one way or another that you overheard.  Oh.  His feelings.  You look over those words in the letter again.  I love you.

I love you.

The words swim in your head and make you dizzy.  If he loved you, why did he never come to see you?  Beg for you to hear his side of the story?  Why did he let you think he was perfectly content for you to walk out of his life?  He loves you?

But you had loved him too, didn’t you?  Before that day, and if you’re honest with yourself, maybe even since.  You had loved how soft he would turn just for you.  Loved his passion, how dedicated he was at a job he clearly loved.  How he took every opportunity to make you feel special.  How he made you laugh.  How he showed you the core of who he was: generous, loyal, kind.  How he praised those exact traits in you. 

The rest of the afternoon is a blur, your mind full of Pero and your chest bubbling over with conflicting and confusing emotions.  At the first opportunity that presents itself, you clock out early, bid farewell to your co-workers, and walk as fast as you can to Pero’s building.  Opening the door with more force than necessary, you march straight up to Pero’s desk; he sits up straighter, surprised at your appearance.  You slap his letter down on his desk in front of him and practically yell, “You love me??!?” and promptly burst into tears, the whirlwind of feelings you’ve been holding in all day finally overwhelming you.

Pero is up on his feet in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you to his chest, hands stroking your hair and back in what he hopes is a soothing manner.  Slowly, never letting you go, he walks the two of you towards the front doors; once there, he locks each lock, including the ground pins, never letting his touch stray from your body, his gaze from your sad face.  Then tucking you under his shoulder and once again wrapping his arms around you as you continue to cry soft tears, he takes you upstairs.  As the elevator door opens, you hear Leah’s greeting cut short when she sees who it is.  She barely gets two words in, “Pero, what ha-,” before he very definitively orders, “Leah, send everyone home, please.  We’re not opening tonight.  Tell everyone they will be paid and to consider it a night off.”  His tone leaves no room for argument, and Leah leaves swiftly to carry out his orders.

All the wait staff who had been setting up the dining room for dinner service scatter upon you and Pero entering; he guides you to the back of the room and sits on a cushioned bench, gently pulling you down onto his lap.  You remained buried into his neck, letting him calmingly rub your neck, back and legs until your sobs subside.

When you finally lift your head and look at him, eyes still glassy with tears, Pero gently dries your wet cheeks with his thumbs before answering your question, “Yes, Cookie, I love you.”

“But why,” you feel another sob welling up from your chest, “… why did you never try to come see me?  Talk to me?  Why was I so easy to leave?”

“Oh fuck, Cookie,” Pero presses a soft kiss to your forehead as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry.  I should have.  I should have tried every day.  I should have begged on my knees.  I wanted to.  I just didn’t want to scare you or force you to see me if you hated me.  But it killed me.  I regret not trying everyday to get you back.  I’m sorry, baby.”

He tells you about not wanting to make you feel unsafe by showing up when you didn’t expect him, and you have to admit that that was quite thoughtful.  “And it wasn’t easy to be without you, princesa.  I’ve missed you every day.  Your laugh.  And your voice.  And all the sweet and funny things you say that brighten up my day.  Knowing that you were hurt and that I couldn’t do anything, I felt so fucking useless.”

You glace up at him, nervous and pitiful the way you whisper, “You laughed, Pero.”

Pero looks confused until you explain what you heard.  His eyes widen in comprehension, realizing that all this time, it wasn’t just the foul words that you had overheard that had hurt you, but the idea, the certainty, that he had felt the same way as those morons.  His heart drops to his stomach.  He cannot get down on his knees fast enough to beg your forgiveness.  Gently lifting you off his lap, he slides to the ground onto his knees and takes your hands, laying them on your lap clasped in his.

“Pero, you don’t have to…” this is unnecessary, you think.

But to Pero it isn’t unnecessary.  In fact, it’s entirely necessary that he assumes this position of reverence and humility.  His expression solemn but desperate as he explains, trying to walk you through the events that you only partially overheard.  Needing you to understand that the laughter you heard wasn’t conciliatory, but an uncontrolled outburst stemming from his own anger.  As he speaks, you feel as if you were there with him, feeling the rage he felt at you being disrespected and insulted vibrating through his hands.  When he finishes, Pero’s exhausted at having relived those moments; the fury he felt once again fresh in his chest, but this time paired with shame that he ever allowed you to go about your life thinking he had felt anything but love and veneration for you.  He lays his head on your hands, ready to receive whatever harsh judgment you rain down on him.  He deserves it.

When he feels your soft hands move to stroke his face and run gently through his hair, he looks up to see you gazing back at him softly, eyes filled with tears again, “Oh Pero, I’m so sorry.”

Confused, he frowns a little, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Cookie.”

Shaking your head, you have to disagree, “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Pero.  You’ve shown me so many times how genuine and honourable you are, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt and let you explain rather than assuming the worst.  You deserved more from me.”

He can’t have this, you taking any blame for your own hurt; rising to his feet and pulling you up with him, he whispers, “I should have tried every day to explain.  To take better care of your heart.  You deserved more from me.”  Then he kisses you and your heart explodes; every emotion you feel: love, regret, relief, gratefulness, joy, all spill over and your lips desperately try to calligraph what you’re unable to say onto Pero’s.  He kisses you with the hunger and longing of a man far too long parched, one having just stumbled upon the oasis of your forgiveness. 

“How come Leah said we’re clos--,” William’s voice cuts through your dream-like bubble.  Pero looks up at his friend, who reads the situation for what it is immediately.  Your heart softens further upon seeing William, realizing you had misjudged him as well.  William is all smiles, his good nature not easily affected as he claps Pero’s shoulder and demonstrates happiness for his friend’s obvious joy. 

“If Leah can call everyone back, how about we still open, pay everyone double for the confusion, and I call in someone to cover the front door tonight?” offers William, and Pero easily assents with a nod of his head.

“Wait,” you say, pushing back slightly from Pero’s arms so you can look between both men, “…the two of you can just open or close the restaurant whenever you want?”

Pero and William glance at each other as you continue, “…and you make the pay decisions?  Like paying people for not working… or double?”

You look right at Pero, “And you have the authority to fire dishwashers and busboys?”

Pero takes a deep breath, “Cookie, there’s something I have to tell you.”

You’re looking at both him and William with such a high degree of incredulousness, Pero thinks that this is perhaps the first time he’s ever been on the receiving end of a look as stern as the ones he’s used to giving.  William looks sheepish and gives Pero a wide-eyed side glance that clearly says: Can’t help you, brother.  Sighing, Pero bites the bullet, “William and I… we’re not just the host and bouncer of Lin… we’re the owners.”

You take a step back and cross your arms, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows, silent while you take this in.

“The restaurant is named after Lin Mae, William’s wife… and it’s not the only restaurant we own.  We have a restaurant group in the city… and in a few other cities as well,” finishes Pero, afraid to meet your eye.

“Let me get this straight,” you say very deliberately and slowly, “you’re an internationally celebrated restauranteur… and you let me cook for you??!” You punch Pero hard in the arm before covering your face in embarrassment.

Both William and Pero chuckle and Pero rubs his big strong hands up and down your arms, soothingly, “I love your cooking, Cookie.”

Voice still muffled behind your hands, you sigh, “Don’t patronize me.”

“I would never, princesa,” Pero pulls you close and presses loving kisses to your temple, “Truly, I’ve loved everything you ever made me.”

“Your cookies are the best,” chimes in William, “my favourite were the salted caramel.”

You didn’t know Pero had shared your cookie bribes, but the fact that William’s favourite were Pero’s least makes you smile a little.

A new thought strikes you, “Is this why I’ve never been to your place?”

At this, Pero does look ashamed, “Oh Cookie, I’m sorry.  I knew if you saw my place, the jig would be up.”

You wave goodbye to William as you and Pero head to the locker room to grab his belongings before leaving; after Pero’s confessions today, you won’t make the mistake of assuming any ill intent on his part again, but you are curious, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I didn’t intend on keeping it from you, I swear,” says Pero, thoughtfully, “but I can’t say it wasn’t a little bit liberating to have you get to know just me, without all the bells and whistles.  It’s very rare to be seen for who I am, and not what I do or what I have.”

This, you can understand well, and you know Pero knows you do.  You snuggle in closer to him, listening to the steady beating of Pero’s heart for the whole of the elevator ride.  As you exit the building and walk towards his bike, Pero does apologize, “But I should have told you the truth sooner, Cookie.  I’m not sure why I didn’t, except that things were going well and I didn’t want anything to change.”

He looks a little like a wounded puppy, and you decide that the two of you have wasted enough time on regrets so you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him down for a deep, tender kiss. “You’re forgiven, Pero,” you purr into his mouth, “for everything.”

“Do you want to go to my place now?” Pero smiles against your lips.

Eyes brightening, you nod.  For some reason, going to Pero’s home for the first time feels like the start of a new beginning, and you can’t help but bounce a little in excitement as Pero lowers his helmet over your head.  The feeling of wearing a bike helmet, Pero’s helmet in particular, and getting ready to ride on the back of his bike again, drives home for you the realness of your reconnection.  You sigh in contentment as you anticipate the familiar hum of the motor beneath you.  Pero revels in a similar sentiment, unable to believe the good fortune that when he takes off tonight, it will once again be with the feeling of your arms wrapped snugly around his midsection.

Speeding past your apartment and riding further north, Pero eventually pulls into a garage beneath a luxury high-rise in one of the city’s most exclusive areas.  You chuckle when you realize it’s about a block away from where Dorothy lives.  During the elevator’s long ride up, you jokingly ask if Pero’s ever had any near misses with Dorothy in the neighbourhood, and his laughter while he shakes his head leads you to believe he has.

When the elevator doors open to a private foyer with only one locked doorway, you realize, he lives in the penthouse, the fucker!  Your breath is taken away the moment Pero opens his front door: floor to ceiling windows border the open concept space so you can admire a near 180 degree view of the city just from where you stand.  The room has a simple, modern aesthetic, but you’re not fooled by the minimalist look of the furniture – your keen eye can tell that everything in this room has been thoughtfully selected for its quality, fit and function.  Though understated, the luxurious feel of the décor is evident; everything has its place, fitting together elegantly.  You spy a few personal touches of Pero’s, including a model of a Ducati motorcycle that looks familiar even in its miniature form.  But what truly leaves you awestruck is the kitchen: the cabinets and appliances are primarily stainless steel, giving it a professional industrial look, but the accent surfaces of marble and white lacquer tie in the space with the rest of the apartment’s sleek feel.  It’s huge.  And well loved, you can tell.  You hungrily eye all the cool kitchen gadgets and appliances resting along the counter tops and the large marble island that centers the design.  Your mouth might water a little at the thought of all the delicious food that has been prepared here.

“Hungry, Cookie?” asks Pero, amused as if he can read your mind.

Turning towards him, you see how relaxed and at home he looks among all this understated luxury, and not for the first time, you find yourself stunned by how devastatingly handsome he is.  Throwing yourself at him, your mouth connects with his, open and willing, “Yes, Pero.  I’m hungry.”

After removing each others’ clothing in a frenzy, giggling while tossing garments behind and over furniture, flinging some to the far corners of the room, Pero gently lays you down on his plush carpet, ready to worship you.  He takes his time kissing and licking each line and curve of your body, reacquainting himself with every dip and valley, as if he could ever have truly forgotten their taste.  Each shudder and whimper he pulls from you a small victory for him that your body has missed him too. 

By the time Pero buries his face between your legs, you’re boneless and aching, a sticky mess already painting the inside of your thighs as you cry out for Pero to give you some relief.  Your hands tug and pull at his hair, your words drip with soft pleas, then desperate demands, but nothing with hurry Pero.  He’s on a mission to seek penance from your pussy and nothing will deter him.  Every lick and stroke of his tongue an apology, each flick and circle of your clit an atonement for his wrongs, his two, then three fingers curl inside you pleading for forgiveness.  You grant it with your back arched and your mouth open in a soundless scream, forgetting why you had ever even been apart.

When he finally enters you, it’s slow and sweet, arms bracing your head and fingers stroking your hair as he whispers words of love and praise.

“Missed you so much, Cookie.”

“Feel so good around me, princesa.  Never going to leave this perfect cunt again.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Your eyes never leave his, even when they fill with tears.  He just feels so good.  And you missed him so much.  Now he’s yours again.  He was always yours.  And he loves you.  And you love him, too.  You sing it so he knows.

It’s slow and sweet, until it’s not.  The urgency of Pero’s thrusts is accompanied by the crushing of his lips to yours.  As your tongues dance, your fingers do the same on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the summit.  Every drive of Pero’s hips bottoms him out deep in your cunt, the force of which you absorb with pleasure, crying out for more, more, more.  He gladly delivers - he’ll never deny you anything ever.  So long as you remain his, everything that’s his is yours for the taking, “Take it, princesa.  Take my cock like the good girl you are.”  You do as he commands, taking it all until you come, clenching down so hard on his length that Pero’s own fall isn’t far behind.  Both still panting and lightheaded from your twin highs, you hold each other close with Pero softening inside you, kissing and whispering I love you until you both come back down to Earth. 

---

Padding into Pero’s kitchen wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts, you wrap your arms around Pero’s waist as he lifts the cookies from the baking sheet with a spatula.  Handing you a warm cookie, he watches you in anticipation as you take a bite.  The reversal of your roles from when you first met not lost on him.

The sweet taste on your tongue is heavenly, “10/10.  Ginger molasses, my favourite,” you beam, “This tastes a lot like the one at the restaurant.”

“Of course it does, Cookie,” Pero answers, as if it’s obvious.  He continues to transfer the remaining cookies to the cooling rack, “Who do you think gave the recipe to the kitchen?  I had them start to bake them a while ago.  Just wanted to have something at the restaurant that reminded me of you.”

“That so sweet,” you coo, reaching for a second cookie.

“And maybe subconsciously I thought, bake it and she will come.”

Munching down on the sweet treat, you quip, “You really have Joanna to thank you that.  She’s the one who wanted to come to Lin today.”

“I mean, if we’re going to get technical about it, the person I really have to thank is Dorothy, since she’s the one who wanted to eat at Lin in the first place,” shrugs Pero.

“Should I invite her over?” you giggle, only half joking.

“Why not?  But maybe put some pants on first,” chuckles Pero, as he turns to clean the dirty baking tools in the sink.

Giggling as you head to Pero’s closet to find a pair of sweatpants, you type out a message on your phone: Dorie, you’ll never guess where I am!

2 years later

“… the bride was a vision in custom off the shoulder, full length Vera Wang.  The bridesmaids wore matching vintage Gucci from Tom Ford’s 1996 collection.  Not to be outdone, the groom, elusive restauranteur Pero Tovar, impressed in his custom black and white Zegna tuxedo.  Guests were in for a special surprise and honour; the reception of the joyous nuptials was held in the restaurateur’s newest addition to his culinary empire with the celebrations serving as the restaurant’s private opening.  Per a statement from the groom and his business partner, William Garin’s representatives, the restaurant, which will have its public opening following the happy couple’s honeymoon, is named ‘Mi Galleta’ as a gift to his new wife.”

[tokki-tteokbokki]

One by One

Chapter Three: Mile High

Jeongin x Fem Reader

MDNI

18+

Synopsis:

After constantly fighting with your boyfriend, Jisung, your relationship abruptly ends.

Unaware of the secret hope of your relationship's demise by your friends.

One by one, the boys can't help themselves.

Chapter Two:

Chapter Four:

Warnings:

heh more dirty dirty smut :), some angst, hurt feelings, public touching, fingering, public sex, unprotected intercourse, mouth covering

“Ugh..” You groaned against the pillow after hearing your alarm go off.

You coughed, feeling the soreness in your throat. You reached over to grab the glass of water on the nightstand. Taking small sips, being careful not to swallow too hard. Your escapade from last night replaying in your mind, causing your skin to raise small goosebumps. You hadn’t fully wrapped your head around what had happened with Chan let alone Minho.

Your thoughts were disrupted by a knock at the door. “Eh?” You squeaked, quickly draped a robe over your naked body before shuffling to the door. “Yes?” You answered opening the door. To your surprise there was no one but a tray on the floor caught your eye. You sank down to pick it up, upon examination you saw the bowl of oatmeal matched with fresh ripe strawberries, with a cup of steaming tea that leaked the smell of honey and lemon, followed by a folded note with a small bag taped to it.

Setting the tray down you opened the note

“(y/n)

take it easy today. hope this helps until the next time i get to destroy you. :)

-MH”

You peeled the bag that was taped to the note looking at the label “Echinacea & Honey Throat Lozenges” You stifled a laugh “Minho, manages to make a kind gesture a horny one.” You ate your breakfast carefully and enjoyed the soothing elements of the tea before getting on with the rest of your routine and heading out.

Today’s schedule wasn’t too difficult. It was just filming the boys go-karting and eating afterwards. Still, it was work. You greeted everyone good morning and made a request to the PA to fetch some more of the honey lemon tea you had this morning at the courtesy of Minho. “Everyone ready to head out?” You called out “Yeah!” Piling out into the driveway to settle into your vehicles, you were too focused on the written plan you were reading to notice where you were going. “Ah!” You grunted, bumping into someone. You looked up to meet a familiar face.

“Oh.. Jisung. Sorry.” You tried to moved past him “(y/n).” He began “Are you..? I mean, how are-“ “Han! Hurry up, before we leave you behind again.” Changbin shouted from the car. You could see he wanted to try making amends but it was too soon. He was just going through what he calls “(y/n) withdrawals”. He mentioned this the last time you broke up which was a short lived separation due to the fact you both didn’t know better.

Inhaling sharply, you moved past him to the team car. He watched you walk away before making his way to his vehicle. “Ma’am, are you okay?” The PA asked from the backseat as you took your place in the front seat. “Mm. Just a little tired. Did you manage to get your hands on that tea?” You switched the subject, as it was too complicated to indulge in. “Ah! Here!” She chimed, passing you a travel mug. “Thank you.” You appreciated before the car pulled out and away.

Everything was going according to plan, watching the boys zoom around the track to peacefully enjoyed the last filmed meal and the final shot at the sea’s edge. “That’s a wrap for today everyone! Thank you for your hard work, please enjoy your day off tomorrow and remember that we’re leaving earlier than expected. Our flight leaves at 6pm. Please don’t be late.” You announced. Taking your leave you decided to find some peace back at the Airbnb by the pool.

You sprawled out onto a poolside bed, watched the trees dance on the dark skyline illuminated by the glow of the stars. The quiet was so calming for the rampant thoughts that had been flooding your mind. “Mm.” You sighed shutting your eyes for a brief moment “Ding-Dong” A familiar voice echoed making your eyes fly open. Sitting up you saw all the boys gathered around your chair “Oh!” You squeaked. “Noona, we’re not bothering you are we?” Felix stepped forward “Hm! No! I was just thinking about what to do next.” You weakly smiled “Great! We’ll we’re going to celebrate you in?” Changbin gleamed. You did your best to hide your distain. “Yeah.. Yeah!” You shook your head “Let’s go!” The boys cheered as you stood up to follow them.

You had no idea what their plan was but the walk to wherever they were taking you was loud and lively. Though outwardly it didn’t seem awkward but you had sex with 3/8 of them and 2 were an absolute secret. You looked to see Chan listening to Changbin’s loud shenanigans annoying Seungmin, Chan holding back laughter, Minho walking along side Han and Hyunjin.

Ugh it was far from over.

Felix and Jeongin walked beside you. Jeongin glancing over to you with a smile multiple times. It made you a little suspicious but you shook it off. You had enough craziness to deal with. “Just a little farther.” Jeongin broke your thoughts “Hm? Oh. Yes.” You replied with a smile “Noona, I think you’ll like our celebration.” Felix added. You nodded your head. Looking ahead, your eyes fixed on Jisung’s silhouette. This can’t be easy on him having to be around you like this, all the more you wanted to be off on your own and also couldn’t wait to get home.

Your thoughts absorbed your mind but was interrupted “Tada!” Your eyes focused to see such a serene scene. A beautiful fire pit surrounded by a round couch, twinkle lights caressed the walls of the roofless gazebo. Snacks were neatly placed on trays and a fresh tea pot full of sweet smelling honey and tangy lemon called your name. A large smile spread across your face.

Jeongin grabbed your shoulders “A little bird mentioned you weren’t feeling well so we though we should treat you a bit. Hopefully, this helps.” You looked at him sighing with relief, his fox like eyes puffing up as he smiled back at you.

Earlier~

“Ah she looks tired, doesn’t she?” “She’s really pushing herself too hard.” Staff members spoke amongst themselves “I think she might be coming down with something, she keeps requesting remedy tea.” The PA chimed in. Jeongin just so happened to be nearby and overheard. “Who are you talking about?” He stepped closer, the staff surprised to see him standing there but replied quickly “Miss(y/n)” The PA answered. Jeongin raised his eyebrows as he turned his attention to you. Watching you as you worked hard behind the camera, reviewing and making pointers. Your hair was messily pulled back in a clip with stray hairs framing your face, you pushed a piece behind your ear, revealing your side profile. Jeongin smiled gazing upon your side profile, you looked beautiful. He inhaled “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of the rest. Keep on eye on her until the wrap later.” Jeongin beamed to staff. They all nodded as they watched him approach the members.

“I have an idea.” He began.

You looked at all of the smiling faces, even Jisung letting a closed mouth smile peek through. You saw Minho hold back a laugh. The real reason why you were “sick” was too funny not to giggle at. Your cheeks blushed pink and you looked away from him immediately. “Come sit.” Seungmin leading the way. You sat in between Seungmin and Jeongin, nestling yourself in a blanket that was folded on the couch.

“We hope this makes you feel better.” Chan smiled. You felt grateful at the kind gesture the boys did for you. Felix pour cups of tea and gave them around to everyone. The conversations were lighthearted and sweet. You found yourself forgetting of all things that stressed you out. As you listened to more conversations unfold you felt something pressing against your leg. You looked down and saw Jeongin pressing his leg against you. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have platonic physical contact with the boys but this felt different.

Jeongin leaned in “Can we share the blanket? I’m a little chilly.” He whispered. You weren’t too surprised at the request as everyone else was also sharing blankets, so you obliged. He smiled bring the blanket over himself. Seungmin noticed and lifted the other side slightly, also asking to share. You pulled more of the blanket over to cover him too. He smiled in appreciation.

“How about some music? We have a guitar here.” Hyunjin suggested. Everyone agreed, watching Chan waltz over to pick it up. The impromptu set started with Chan singing “Best Part”, as his voice slid with ease through the intro with Minho accompanying harmonies. As you listened, Jeongin moved a closer, assuming he was just trying to get comfortable you didn’t expect his hand to slide onto your thigh. You were sitting with your knees up towards your chest and a blanket draping you both, it was perfect. No one would notice. You swallowed hard and slightly shifted in place. He wasn’t trying to move anywhere malicious, his large slender hand was just resting on you.

The songs continued and Jeongin’s hand didn’t move much which put you at ease. He was too sweet and uncorrupt to pull anything naughty in such a place and through such a situation. “My turn.” Jisung said gesturing towards the guitar to which Chan handed it off to him. “Seungmin, Jeongin.” He called making Jeongin’s fingers slightly grab onto you. They both looked at Jisung but his eyes were glued to you. “Let’s do Gone Away.” Your heart fluttered. Because the secret inspiration behind this song was you.

After the first time you and Jisung fought and split for a week, he came to you with this song. You took him back that time with tears filling both your eyes.

“Oh.. Sure” Jeongin replied his hand moving his hand away. You looked at Jisung as the song began. You could see the pain in his expression which only made everything harder for you. How could you have slept with his friends?

“My heart was looking for you, it disappeared. Gone away, gone away, I don’t think I can hold you anymore.”

Your heart sank with every word he sang. You knew this was just his way of grieving but oh.. did it ever break your heart. You two were just too different. You tried to remind yourself of this fact as the song continued. All three men singing their parts in perfect execution.

Han looked at you almost pleadingly once the song was over, your eyes moved to the ground to avoid his radiating gloom. “Woa, that was good!” Hyunjin praised along with everyone else. Jeongin took this opportunity to return to his original position on your thigh. Your sad thoughts disappeared and were replaced with heat running to your cheeks. That was bold. You thought. Jeongin have a slight squeeze and let out a smile. “It’s getting late.” He faked yawned “Yeah.” The others agreed “Let’s head back, yeah?” Chan said standing up.

The walk back started, it was dark but small garden lights illuminated your path. It was dark enough that no one could see you and Jeongin in the back, his hand on your back. You couldn’t stop blushing “You okay?” You could hear him smiling through his question to you “Yes.” You quietly replied. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Although he’s always been the baby, he was also a man. It was such a surprise to have him being a man to you.

Finally, arriving back at the house you gratefully thanked the boys for taking care of you. They all gave you a hug but once it was time for Jisung’s you hesitated but still followed through. Pressed against his chest like that brought about a flutter in your stomach. You quickly released. Giving another ‘thank you’ you made your way back to your room.

“God.” You plopped down. Your head was full. Too full. You glared at the ceiling, sighing heavily.

Buzz.

“Huh?” you reached for your phone. A notification illuminated the screen.

Yang Jeongin

iMessage

You rolled over on your stomach and opened it

I hope you managed to relax a bit tonight. I’m glad I got to spend time with you.

You smiled at the message before typing your reply

Thank you again, it was really nice

You stopped typing. Do you tell him it was nice spending time with him too? Do you mention the thigh touching? Your heart sped up a bit.

Thank you again, it was really nice. I’m glad we got to spend time together too.

He started typing and another message appeared.

I wanted to ask… I didn’t make you uncomfortable, right?

You gulped

No. It was nice.

Oh good! You just looked so cute all snuggled in that blanket, I couldn’t help myself.

Your heart thumped. You didn’t know what to say, twiddling your thumbs another message appeared.

Everyone is kind of going off on their own tomorrow for their days off. Are you doing the same?

Yes, I was planning to enjoy some time alone by the sea tomorrow.

Ah. Well I guess I’ll see you at the airport?

Yes!

He began typing for some time. You waited in anticipation. Wait. Why were you excited? You set your phone down and shook your head.

Buzz.

You snatched your phone.

Sit beside me tomorrow. I like having you beside me. Goodnight :)

You opted to just send a smiley face, at a loss for words you set your phone on the charger and settled into bed. Your eyes getting heavy as you turned off the lamp. At least you have the day to yourself tomorrow.

You decided to sleep in and give yourself the extra rest. The boys went their own ways before you woke up. They figured it was best to let you rest as well. You started and spent your day quietly, taking in the beautiful sights of Jeju. Deciding to settle onto a secluded spot on the beach, you thought about the last few days and all that’s happened. It was surreal, you never expected any of Jisung’s friends to be interested in you.

What would Jisung even do if he found out? You can’t lie, making him jealous was a lowkey guilty pleasure of yours. You loved the way he got so possessive over you, how well he would remind you who you truly belong to. Taking a deep breath you let the sound of the rushing waves quiet your mind. You stayed there for a while, just existing.

Your alarm sounded and it was time to make your way to the airport. You arrived on time and was greeted by the boys. Casual conversations of how you spent the day went around as you waited to board. Luckily, this flight rarely got delayed and you started boarding quickly. Flying business class was always a perk from your job, you saw assigned window seat and settled in. Originally, Jisung was actually sitting beside you but Jeongin’s text from last night rang true as he seated himself beside you. “Comfy?” He asked with a sweet smile painting his face “Mm.” You smiled back. “Did you spend the day well?” “Oh, yes. I hung out at the beach. You?” You replied. He leaned back into his chair “Hyunjin Hyung took me to a cafe and we just walked around.” You smiled “Sounds relaxing.” Mimicking his posture, you relaxed back into your chair looking at him.

The plane took off and before long the flight attendants made their ways up and down the aisles. “Can I get you anything?” She politely inquired. Before you could speak, Jeongin interjected “A blanket, please.” Your eyes couldn’t hide your expression. “Yes, sir.” She replied, striding away. You looked at Jeongin wide eyes. “You looked a little chilly.” His hand coming down to your thigh again. You lightly gasped at his boldness. You had minimal coverage from the chairs around you, if someone looked at the right angle they’d be able to see.

“Your blanket.” The attendant returned. He thanked her, not taking his eyes off you. She scurried away to another passenger as he opened the blanket and placed it over you two. Your heart was picking up speed. “You look so cute when you’re snuggled up, Noona.” His hand lightly gripping your thigh. “Jeongin-” You tried “Noona, look at me.” His voice was low, your breathing was almost audible. Slowly, you turned your face towards him, your eyes following at a slower pace. Finally, your eyes met his, his face was painfully close. His lips parted “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” His whisper sent a chill down your spine.

That feeling was back. That slutty desperation. You couldn’t help it, all these beautiful men thirsting after you. How could you say no?

Jeongin’s eyes fell down to your lips, he wanted to take you right there but he knew he couldn’t. Instead, his hand moved slowly up your thighs to your heated core. You didn’t want to stop him, you weren’t going to stop him. Your chest was rising and falling intensely. “Do you want this?” He whispered “Jeongin..” He smiled at the state he’s put you in. His fingers reached your crotch, drawing light circles over it, making you shut your eyes. “Noona, do you like me touching you like this?” You could actually hear the smile on his face “Hm?” He tried again. You weakly nodded your head, moving your hips slightly to get more pressure.

You opened your eyes and looked at the seat diagonal to yours, Chan and Minho both subtly leaned forward watching their youngest have his turn. Your cheeks became hot and red and your excitement increased. Why was having an audience turning you on? Never mind that, did they know about this beforehand?

“Noona.” You attention turned back to Jeongin “Do you want more?” His fingers tracing around. You nodded eagerly, thinking about how his long fingers would feel inside you. His smile grew as he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled down the zipper “Tell me… Tell me you want more.” You sighed heavily “Please…” You whimpered “I want more.” His fingered played past the band of your panties before he went under them and discovered your sopping wet pussy. “Noona, you’re so wet.” His middle finger slid over your throbbing clit, making you drop your head to hide your pleasure.

Jeongin pressed his finger further, reaching your entrance, making you inhale sharply. You bucked your hips up, your head rolling to your right to meet his face. “Inside.” You pleaded. Jeongin was about to burst, watching you fall apart, being so needy for him. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight as his dick grew hard for you. Pushing against your entrance, the only pad of his finger pushed in and out, making you squirm in desperation. “Inside.” You whined again. He chuckled at your neediness, his finger slowly pushed further, entering you. You groaned in response, you loved being filled up. Finger or dick, it didn’t matter.

“Oh, so warm and wet.” He chuckled as he began to pace in and out of you. You grabbed onto his shirt in a weak attempt to contain yourself. “Does it feel good?” You whimpered in response, it felt good. It felt too good. You were getting greedy, you again, needed more. “Jeongin.” You hand fell off his shirt and into his lap. You felt the pulsing bulge in his pants. He sighed heavily “Look at how hard you make me. Noona,” He leaned closer “Do you want it inside?” Your pussy clenched around his finger at the idea, you gave a squeeze to his aching hard on.

Jeongin’s finger sped up “Use your words. Do you want me inside you?” His voice was soft but deep with lust, he loved hearing the helpless desirous pleas. You squirmed against him “I-I wan-t you in-inside” You shook out. A devious smile grew on his face “Follow me, into the bathroom in a minute.” His fingers slid out of you and he stood up, winking at you as he made his way to the lavatory.

Jeongin now out of sight, you noticed Chan and Minho still watching you. Minho stood up and moved towards you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, what was this? Did they go behind your back? “Having fun?” Minho chuckled as he sat beside you. A panicked look came upon your face “I didn’t tell them, they just found out.” He laughed

Minho shut your room door behind him while letting out a sigh, trying to regain his composure from the covetous adventure you both engaged in. His head turned to see a frozen Jeongin and a giggling Chan to his right standing in the hallway. “What are you guys doing here?” Minho walked towards them, stretching his arms over his head. Chan smiled “Found this one with his ear pressed to the wall, giving himself a little special attention.” Jeongin was six different shades of red “I, uh” His eyes glued to the floor in embarrassment. Minho maliciously smiled “Baby Bread is becoming a man.” He laughed “You know, she’s pretty easily persuaded.” Chan began “She’s like a bee with honey, except it’s dick” Jeongin eyes widened as he turned to face Chan “Hyung, you and (y/n)?” Chan grinned. Minho acted surprised as Chan had no idea he recorded you two. Chan looked at Minho with an idea “Jeongin, you think you can be a man?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just the three of us who know what a desperate whore you are.” Minho smirked, his words made you wetter “Go. He’s waiting for you, I’ll deal with you myself later.” He stood up making his way back to his seat. Were you really going to do this? Your mind flashed of Jeongin’s words and his fingers inside of you, your belly burned in lust. You needed more.

“I thought you were going to leave me hanging.” Jeongin said leaning against the tiny sink. You stepped closer and his hand met your waist, he pulled you in gently. His lips nearing yours, you felt almost electric “Tell me again.” He tilted your face up to meet his gaze. His beautiful brown eyes met yours. You looked almost doll-like to him, so cute. “Tell me.” His breath inched closer, you couldn’t stop yourself bringing your lips to meet his. They were soft like flower petals and warm, his taste was heavenly.

His hands explored your body over your clothes as your kiss became more heated. You slipped your hand underneath his hoodie exploring his chiseled body. His skin was warm and soft, you could only imagine how his naked body would feel pressed against yours. “Noona, tell me. You want it? You want to feel me deep inside you?” He pulled his face away, staring deep into your eyes. He wanted to hear you say it. Hear you say how badly you wanted him to the point of almost begging.

“Jeongin.” Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him back in “I want you.. I want you to fuck me.” His eyes became dark with pleasure and lust, he turned you around pressing his chest against your back. One hand finding your breast and the other between your legs, you moan out at the feeling. “You have to be quiet.” He whispering in your ear making you whimper. “Can you do that for me?” Jeongin’s hand slipped into your pants and past your panties, making contact with desperate pussy. You nodded your head in submission. He suddenly pulled your bottoms down along with his. He ravished the sight of your bare ass. You arched your back, pushing your cheeks against his hard length. It’s so long, you thought. You knew you’d be feeling him in your guts for days.

Jeongin groaned out slapping the tip of his cock on your cheek, leaving small pools of precum. His face was becoming warm with anticipation. “Jeongin… Please..” You could barely hold it, you needed him inside you now. His dick finally found its way in between your hot folds, he thrusted back and forth, playing in your wetness. “Oh Noona, how lewd.” You both could hear the sounds of your wet genitals grinding over the roar of the engines. “Remember what I said. Keep quiet.” With that he slid inside you whilst leaning forward, bring one of his hands to cover your mouth. Was definitely the right call because you moaned everything into him. “You were more obedient with Minho Hyung.” He laughed “Should I be treating you like the little cock whore you truly are?” His words spiked the hairs on your body, every thrust into you hit your cervix, making you dizzy with pleasure.

Drool was dripping from the hand covering your mouth. You felt like heaven to him, he’d never had such a beautiful woman at his disposal. Your ass jiggled with every entry making him want to fuck you faster and hard just to see your pretty ass dance for him. “Noona, you’re going to make me cum.” He whined into your ear. All you could do was moan in agreement. His pulsing cock was driving you insane as it moved against your walls, you were getting close. Your pussy clenched in preparation for the sky high orgasm that was about to hit you. “Don’t worry, I’m going to fill you up. Let it out, Noona.” His words made you shudder in ecstasy, you walls gripped tightly around him “O-Oh!” He whimpered a kind of desperate whimper as he spilled himself inside you. Jeongin’s head fell forward onto your shoulder as his hand dropped from your mouth. Moments passed as you both panted in recovery.

Jeongin reached for a hand towel and wiped your mouth and your pussy from all the wetness before cleaned clothed himself. He pulled your bottoms back up and turned you to face him. Your expression was completely blissful as you looked at him with glazed eyes. He smiled warmly “Okay?” His hand meeting your cheek. “Mm.” You agreed, Jeongin kissed you softly “I’ll head back first.” Kissing your forehead, he turned to the door. “Ah Noona,” He turned back “Thanks~” He winked heading out.

You took a deep breath and looked into the mirror in front of you. Small smudges of mascara built under your eyes, leaning forward to wipe it away. “(y/n), what the hell are you doing?” Your head dropped. This was seriously the last time, if Jisung found out it’d be the end for everyone involved.

You finished freshening up and made your way back to your seat. You scooted past Jeongin and settled into your seat. You looked over and saw Minho and Chan smirking at you, you breathed in deeply trying not to think about the confrontations you’d have with them later. Your thoughts were broken by Jeongin putting the blanket on you. “Sleep, you should rest now.” He lightly tucked the blanket around you “Thanks.” You breathed. You shut your eyes and before you knew it you had dozed off.

The two boys looked back at Jeongin and gave a small thumbs up to which he chuckled. The celebration was short lived as they saw Jisung make his way down. Seeing the exchanged before him “Hm?” He questioned looking at the two older “Nothing.” Chan responded sinking back into his seat. The other two followed his lead, shaking their heads and shrugging their shoulders. Jisung looked past Jeongin to see your napping quietly, he wanted to throw Jeongin out of the seat. Your head suddenly fell to the side and landed on Jeongin’s shoulder. Jisung almost boiled with angst seeing you like that. Jeongin swallowed hard and did his best to show no expression to which he succeeded. Jisung inhaled sharply and continued making his way down the plane aisle to the bathroom.

The same bathroom you joined the Mile High club in.. with yet another one of his closest friends.

[blank-slate-jay]

Can you please do Ellie catching you and Joel kissing? Male reader of course :) Thank you in advance <3

Untold Pair

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Fluff, Kissing, Established Relationship(Ellie doesn't know), Ellie is less savage

A/N : Hey Anon, thanks for the submission. This one's just cute. I hope this is what you wanted, enjoy!

Ellie sighed heavily, making her way down the staircase. She really wanted to stay home for the day, she hated going to that god awful school she attended. Reading and Writing, Math and Statistics; including having to go multiple times a week. Really? She should be learning how to hunt and better defend herself, she thought. This commune live just wasn't cutting it.

Making her way to the living room, she tosses her bag onto the couch. She might as well fetch breakfast to cheer herself up before leaving. The school wasn't so bad. She at least had Dina, a friend of hers to keep her company during class time. For her, that was the only thing keeping her from skipping classes all together.

She made her way toward the kitchen area, picking up on the stirs and sizzling pan on the other side of the wall. Curious, she makes her away around the corner.

Joel was sitting at the corner and then there was you stationed up at the even. That was surprising to her. You rarely ever got a change to visit due to your workload in the greenhouses. So you being there, so early in the morning, was a warm welcome.

Ellie gasped, calling your name and running up to you. You hadn't even gotten a chance to say or take notice of her before her arms were wrapped around you.

"Morning to you too", you joke, patting the top of her head. “Your food is on the counter by the way.”

She pipes up and turns to look over at the untouched plate next to Joel, a growing excitement running across her face. Eggs and Bacon, "Oh fuck yeah"! She releases you and slides into the seat next Joel. She rubbed her hands together thrilled that she didn't have to eat oatmeal again.

Picking up her fork, she was about to take a stab at her food but Joel nudged her arm. She looks at him and watches as his eyes and head motion in your direction. His face displayed somewhat disbelief, like she had done something wrong. Ellie didn't understand what he wanted from her, couldn't she enjoy herself for once? It clicked for her after a few awkward moments, "OH! Thank you."

You glare over your shoulder at her, nodding as you finish up plating your own food. After your gesture, she begins to gorge down on her food, manners be damned.

Through Ellie's muffled chewing, Joel wipes away at his mouth with a napkin. He pushes himself to his feet and grabs his plate too. He walks over to the sink, dumping his plate in. "You didn't have to do all this”, he says, pointing out your cooking.

You shook your head, your lips curling up, "No it's...I don't mind doing this for you two”. Besides, Ellie told me you tried making my finest last week.”

“Ok,” he starts, feeling put on the spot. He tried explaining, “That was…”

“...a terrible attempt,” Ellie remarks with a satisfied 'mph' as she bites into her food. “I’ll give you props for trying, but man it was burnt to a crisp.” 

He widens his eyes at her, the girl’s focus back on the last bit of food on her plate. She couldn’t just butt in and then leave the older man stranded, left with you glancing at him, awaiting an explanation. 

“She’s funny, ain't’ she?” Joel tried making a smooth recovery but his embarrassment was as clear as day. 

You gave the man mercy, instead of toying with him further, “Next time you need a chef, Miller. Just ask,” you patt the man’s chest, slipping right by him to take a seat. Fuck, he loved when you touched him. 

Ellie finishes up only wishing she could have some more. “Are you gonna come later,” she asked, already knowing what the answer would be. “Don’t think so. Got a lot to do today, probably not getting home until after dark.”

Slightly bummed, she hums, taking out her dismay by pushing her plate away. You just never had the time these days, it was disheartening for Joel and Ellie since you were about the only person in Jackson who made them feel welcomed; aside from Tommy and Maria.

“If it makes you feel better, I can walk you to school,” you suggested, granting you a smile from the girl. Every chance she got was a win. “Joel?” 

The man looked in awe, “Sure I was…going to pick up something at the store anyway”. There was a level of uncertainty behind his voice, a lie perhaps? You didn’t bring it up just happy you’d get a bit more time with Joel. 

They packed themselves to leave, you reminded Ellie to check her bag for all the essentials she needed. She assured you that she had everything she needed, brushing off your concern as ‘parental instincts’.

No matter, the three of you were out of the home and walking through the neighborhood. Each one of you trailing slowly, subconsciously using the snow on the ground as an excuse to keep extending the conversation; to slow down your pace. 

Only thing was, this method only made splitting with you painful. Preventing the inevitable worked that way whether the two liked it or not, you’d be gone for sometime. 

They made a stop on the sidewalk, deep into the town of Jackson where everything was booming with working people. It was time to split and say they're farewells. 

“So, when can we see you again,” Joel asked. 

You shrugged, “I can make time in a few days. Someone should be covering for me sometime this week.” 

Joel nods, rubbing his enclosed hands to warn off the cold and the lonely feeling that'll come about in your absences. Still, he had something, that was better than nothing.

“We should watch a movie, you heard about Vansien Viper 3, everyone at school is talking about it. I really really wanna watch it.” Ellie pronounces.

Your eyes widen, “I’m down. Sounds like it could be good.”

“I’ve heard the first one is good but that the second one sucksss,” she leans her head back to exaggerate her point. 

Joel scoffs, “I’m sure it ain’ that bad. I…haven’t ever finished watching the second one yet but that could work too. We don't have the actual cd, do we?”

Ellie establishes, “Don’t worry about that, I got us covered.”

What did she mean by that exactly, her smug tone made bells go off in Joel’s head, she was up to something. He raised one of his brows, seeing if he could discern her words. “And how exactly do you plan on doin' that," he asked.

The suspicion in Joel was evidently rising, she said more than should’ve been said. It was time to call it quits. Ellie quickly swept you into a hug, completely ignoring Joel’s question. She lets you go before backing away, the girl says goodbye to you, picking up her pace as Joel takes a few steps toward her. He tried to call for her but she dipped around the corner of a building, out of view and completely away from being confronted. Chasing after her would just be embarrassing, especially in front of you.

“Have some faith in her Joel,” you jokingly poked at him. 

He turned to you shaking his head; a smile crawling up his face, “Don’t tell me you’re on her side.”

“Whatever she is up to, I’m sure it won’t be troublesome.” 

For all you knew she could be bribing someone into giving her what she wanted, likely mimicking the stories Joel would tell her during his days in the Boston QZ. Joel wouldn’t want her following his old ways.

You let out a heavy sigh, “I should get going though, don’t wanna hold you up much longer.” Ironic you say that since Joel felt it worked the other way around. However, the man's presence was nearly enough to make you discontinue your duties. Joel nodded, upset you had to leave, he wasn’t going to let you go without sharing a kiss. 

He pulls you in by your arms and locks his lips with yours, lingering on your taste knowing he wouldn’t be with you for some time. Standing there, some people were likely looking on momentarily before going about their day. Except for one person, Ellie. 

She pretended to run off, giving the impression that she was off to school. She instead was peaking just around the corner she’d hid behind, curious if Joel had separated from you. The opposite was true, she was witnessing what your dynamic truly was for the first time. You two weren’t just close friends, as she initially believed, but rather lovers. It all made sense though, the small gestures, the look you both gave each other; she must’ve misinterpreted them, somehow.

She pulls herself back into full cover after seeing the both of you release one another. She let the two of you share your moment together, beginning to finally head to school. She couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities of your relationship with Joel. Could it mean that you might move in with them, if so then how soon? Ok, maybe she was getting ahead of herself, still her thoughts bombarded her. You and Joel as her guardians, if there was something in the commune she could get used to, that was one of them.

[fredwkong]

Hi, I'm french but I do'nt feel confortable in my life. I've always thought that I could be more, that I could be better. You know what I mean? Anyway, I think I just need a big long holiday and I've always dreamed to go to Ireland, and maybe find myself a cute muscle ginger stud haha . Can you help me please?

Thanks for your booking with FWK Vacations. Your Irish getaway is about to begin!

You wake up on a cushion of grass in a field. It’s sunrise, and the morning dew is cool, but not unpleasant, on your naked body. You sigh as you look around. You know where you are. This happens a couple of times a month. Your boy calls it “getting taken into the hill.”

You get up and start the walk of shame back to your cottage. The dew is easily shaken off your freckled arms, and the rest evaporates as you start to jog, your big Irish cock swinging between your legs. Any early risers who spot you look appreciatively at your ginger pubes and wolf whistle at your tight ass and back muscles. They’re so used to these mornings that some have said you should just stop wearing clothes entirely.

Finally, you jog up the front walk to your cottage. You’re about to knock on the old oak door when it swings open. Your boy is standing there, also naked, holding a cup of tea for you. He shares your red hair, freckles, muscle, cuteness… When you first met him, you were shocked at how similar you looked. You take the cup and give him a kiss.

He leads you to the breakfast nook, where he’s got hot oatmeal all ready for you. Real silver spoons, because of his iron allergy. He slides in first, and you sit down on his hard cock, ready to eat. You’re so lucky to have him here to take care of you, even if it does mean that sometimes his friends in the hills get to share you, as well.

Enjoy your vacation!

Want to go on vacation? Book via my ask box!

[erwinsvow]

YOU LOOK SO SWEET — RC.

“i can’t believe you made out with sarah’s brother,” your friend comments. you choke on your water. 

it had been an hour or so since your friends had dragged you out of the bar, bringing you home with them for the pre-planned sleepover that you had been ready to ditch for rafe. in that time you and your friends had taken off your makeup and changed into pajamas, munching on pizza on the floor of your bedroom while discussing the night’s events like you always did. you wipe your mouth, looking up at them incredulously. 

“what?” 

“you didn’t know that was rafe cameron? shut up.”

“he’s a psycho, that’s what she always says-”

“he was really nice to me,” you defend, not liking the way your friends sound right now. the rest of the night goes like that—you trying to counter and justify everything rafe did for you last night with your friends telling you it’s a good thing they dragged you away. 

they fall asleep shortly after, but you lie awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering what time your friends will leave in the morning. you’re making plans to go to tannyhill. 

normally breakfast the morning after going out is a sacred ritual between you and your friends, which is why they’re extra surprised when you usher them out without any real reason. you hurry back to the kitchen after their car drives away, getting everything ready to make cookies and wondering which kind rafe likes best.

rafe sees it from inside tannyhill—the white bike with the wicker basket pulling up the driveway, the tiny figure dressed in pink parking it next to his truck. you climb off your bike and even from up here he can appreciate how short your dress is, how you almost gave the gardeners a show. he's gotta teach you to be more careful.

you reach into the basket to pull out a matching pink container, walking up to the front door. he’s down the stairs and opening the door before you’ve even had a chance to ring the doorbell. 

you beam at rafe, hoping he remembers you and wasn’t drunk during that entire encounter. you smile brightly, offering the pink box of cookies to him.

“sorry to just drop by like this. i made cookies for you. um, to say thank you.”

“yeah, kid? that’s real cute.”

“oh. thank you.” he looks down at you, leaning against the door frame.

your chest is heaving, material of your tight dress moving up and down while you keep your gaze fixed on him, eyes big and blinking fast. you don’t even realize how you look right now, trusting and innocent and staring up at rafe like you’d do whatever he asked. if you looked like prey yesterday night, you’re the definition of an offering today, walking straight into the predator’s den.

“i didn’t know what kind you liked, so i made a whole bunch.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” you stare back at rafe for another few seconds, then tear your eyes away. you think he wants you to go, and as much as you like him, as much as you feel a little brainless around him, you’re not stupid—you can tell when you’re not wanted. “well, i should go. thanks again for last night.”

“stop thankin’ me. it was nothin’.” rafe steps out of the house, just a foot from you on the porch now. his hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you nearly jump at the touch. “come inside. can’t eat all these myself.”

your pretty smile comes rushing back, following him inside just like you had followed him to the dance floor yesterday, looking around at the walls of tannyhill. you’d been once before, years ago for a party for sarah’s birthday that the entire class had been invited to,  but you hadn’t admired it then. nor did you realize what other treasures laid inside.

“want milk?” rafe questions, opening up the fridge while you rest your hands on the marble island in the kitchen. you nod your head, still looking around and taking in the new environment. rafe comes back to you with the jug of milk and two glasses, pouring you a cup first.

“how was the rest of your night?” you ask tentatively, breaking an oatmeal raisin cookie in half and offering rafe the other piece. he accepts it with a grin. you’re nervous—scared of the answer, wondering if another girl took your place after you left.

“boring. i left after you did.” he bites into the cookie, and then takes a sip of milk. if he thought you were beaming earlier, you’re radiant now—looking up at him like he’s hung the moon for you. your laugh—and even that’s pretty—fills the room.

“that’s not how you’re supposed to do it, rafe,” you giggle, dipping your own cookie into the milk first to demonstrate. “see?”

it’s quick. rafe takes your wrist into his hand, guiding it up to your mouth, making you take a bite. he doesn’t let go while he speaks, either.

“now it’s soggy. see?” you nod, watching where he’s touching you with big eyes. if you’re this reactive to a little skin contact, he’s dying to see what you’ll be like naked in his bed. he reminds himself to be patient.

“i didn’t realize i was doing it wrong,” you comment, picking up another cookie, this time snickerdoodle, to break in half. he’s half surprised at your compliance, half wondering what else he could convince you of with a little manhandling and kissing.

“don’t worry, kid. i’ll teach you right and wrong.”