#the way he grabs her hand. with both of his. gets visibly concerned when she starts fuckin holding on for dear life

[literallysatanofficial]

Dennis and Dee in 6x12

[whispersfromaeons]

SNEAKY | a poly! wade wilson x reader x logan howlett fic.

synopsis - the consequences of sending a nude to your boyfriends.

tw - nsfw, afab reader, she/her pronouns and fem terms used for reader, threesome, double blowjob, fingering, anal, p in v, unsafe sex / no condom used, you take them both at the same time, pre-established relationship. wc 2.2k.

Dating both Wade and Logan naturally led you to do some rather bold actions that you otherwise would probably not have done in the first place. Just their little effect on you, one could say.

It was so lonely, so utterly quiet in the bedroom you shared with them. In your defense, you couldn’t really help it. Blame it on the fact that you were ovulating, and that their constant absence from the house due to their ongoing tasks did naught but rile you up. It made you feel a little guilty, deep within somewhere, for not being patient enough for them.

But hey, a small surprise wouldn’t really hurt, yeah?

That’s how you found yourself in front of the mirror, contemplating over your actions while your fingers tugged your shirt upwards, revealing your tits, nipples clearly hard. With only half of your face visible in the camera — thank the lords, you didn’t want them to see how flushed you were — you snapped a picture, pausing for a good second. Did you really just do that? Yes.

Opening the groupchat you had with your boyfriends, you attached this picture alongside a sweet text: Miss you ♡.

-

It was almost embarrassing how fast Wade and Logan had arrived at the house after that, taking only about an hour or two. You were concerned that they had ditched their mission, though instead of listening to your questions, they simply grabbed a hold of you.

“Such a naughty fuckin’ girl. Temptin’ us while we’re doin’ important things, hm?” Logan was the first one to grab your waist by his calloused hands, a stern look flashing in his eyes that perfectly blended in with the visible arousal. You were sure that if you were to look down, you would see a clear imprint of his erection, though you simply felt frozen, too captivated by his eyes.

“Mhm, couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw your text, baby. S’not good for me to get hard in the middle of a fight, y’know. Had to finish the bad guys quickly just for ya.” Wade’s voice rang behind you, feeling his body pressing against your back, clothed bulge nuzzling against your ass. Though you couldn’t see his face due to facing Logan, you knew that he was probably sending mischievous gazes to the other man, both having formed a plan you were unbeknownst of.

Though none of them looked to be bleeding, there was a significant strong scent of their musk that made your head a bit dizzy. It made you want to nuzzle your face in between their arms and just relax there, though you didn’t open your mouth, too busy squirming in between their bodies that were now both at your front and back, sandwiching you.

“I just… missed you both a lot.” The pout on your lips made Wade coo in adoration, quick to lift his mask off so he could press soft kisses against your cheek, scarred lips caressing your lips. Logan on the other head was too stubborn to show any affection, his grip on your waist instead tightening up.

“Don’t think we’re goin’ to let you off the hook so easily, bub.” Grunting, Logan pulled you away from Wade and proceeded to push you down on the bed, making you clumsily land on your ass. Somehow, it made you feel accomplished due to the way you had managed to rile him up so much. His sternness did nothing but make you all the more wet, hearing your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

Both men shared a quick look before unbuckling their pants simultaneously. Wade took his entire spandex bodysuit off, keen on flaunting his scarred muscular physique, whereas Logan kept his top on, getting rid of his pants alongside his undies. The sight of their cocks hanging, fully hard and all because of you, made you flush vibrantly. Any attempt to look away went to vain since Wade was quickly to grip your jaw, tutting. “Nah, nah, nah! You’re gonna suck off Wolvie and I together. You can, can’t you?” With that teasing grin on his face, all you wanted to do was punch him out of pure shyness at the moment.

After a few seconds, you nodded, eyes focusing onto the two cocks in front of you. Alas, as you expected, it was hard to keep a straight mind — not when their beefy thighs were literally on your face, the scent of their cocks thick yet not entirely unpleasant. Leaning in, both of your hands reached to grab the bases of their cock, Logan’s slightly thicker than Wade’s, pressing the tips together, your warm mouth soon gently licking them. The salty taste of precum was quick to flood your mouth, a clear sign of the condition your single picture left them in. Your heart jumped at the thought, unable to suppress a smile.

Your licks soon grew into more confident long stripes, occasionally taking in Logan’s tip in your mouth before moving to Wade, drool sliding down your chin. You could hear their soft pants and grunts from above, Logan’s fingers tangled into your hair tightly while Wade’s hand rested against the side of your face. Your lips and lower chin were so wet, smeared with drool and their precum, though you continued, both hands steadily rubbing their lengths. “Pretty girl… All messy just for us.” Logan huffed from above, trying to shove his cock fully into your mouth. Though you could not fit both of them at the same time, you attempted to pay full attention to both of them.

It wasn’t long until their orgasms washed over them, Wade cumming a few seconds before Logan, a delirious moan leaving his lips as he spurted thick strings of cum on your face, followed by Logan who came all over your chest, dirtying your shirt. You couldn’t even complain, too dedicated to licking their tips clean, a soft whimper unknowingly leaving your lips at the salty taste of their cum.

“Ah, she cleans us so well, doesn’t she?” Wade snickered at Logan, reaching for the other man to pull him into a brief kiss that lasted a few seconds before they went back to pay attention to you. Logan soon took off what was left on him, his perfectly sculpted torso alongside the hair that adorned his skin making both you and Wade gape in awe. It didn’t matter how many times you both had seen Logan shirtless, he managed to look better every time.

“C’mon, lay down.” Logan gestured, and all you could do was obediently nod, wiping your face with your shirt, too aroused to care about not being properly clean. They weren’t either, really, since they had just come from outside. All three of you soon got on the bed, your body laying down while Wade got in between your legs. Soon you felt Logan scooping you up from behind, nestling you perfectly behind his widespread legs, feeling his still rock hard erection pressed against your lower back.

Wade begins to strip your clothes off you, smiling in triumph once you were all naked, simply perfect for them. Scarred hands gently guided your legs open, a theatrical gasp leaving his mouth. “Look how wet she is!” He gleed, clearly talking to your pussy instead of you, his rough fingers lightly caressing the wet folds up and down, your body squirming against Logan at the sudden touch while you were sensitive. You could feel the other man’s chest pressed against your chest, the warm and the gentle beats of his heart comforting, though you couldn’t properly focus on it due to the way Wade’s fingers smeared your own juices over your clit, rubbing on it slowly until it was swollen.

“Wade, hurts…” You couldn’t help but whine, feet kicking a bit. Goodness, you needed him. You needed them both, needed them inside of you until you were all exhausted from cumming, all safe in their arms.

Wade couldn’t help but groan at the sounds you were making alongside the soft wet noises your pussy was making at being rubbed. You could feel Logan shifting behind you, his hand reaching at the right side to grab a bottle of lube from the nightstand’s drawer, putting some of it on his fingers. “Lean forward, bub.” He grunted, making you lean forward against Wade while his hands spread your soft asscheeks apart, sighing in contentment once his eyes laid upon your tight asshole, just waiting to be filled.

Carefully, his lubed up finger slid inside your tight hole, waiting for you to adjust to the size as you moaned and clenched at the intrusion, hiding your face against Wade’s neck. Logan gently moved his finger inside your tight hole before adding another, making sure to scissor them inside, spreading your walls apart. It felt so big, and albeit having done this before, you were still always caught off guard by their sizes.

“Y-You can put it in now…” Your words came out as a stutter, clearly too needy to be filled properly, tilting your head back to look at Logan. Sweat was forming on his forehead, the sheer heat within the bedroom too intense. With the way Wade had rubbed you earlier yet not made you cum, purposely for that fact, you knew that you wouldn’t last long at all.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot.” Pressing a soft quick kiss on your lips, Logan once again shifted to let you rest you back against his chest, while Wade went in between your spread legs and grabbed the base of his cock, gently rubbing it against your wet cunt. After a few little teasing pats of his cock against you, he slowly slid the tip inside your wetness, feeling the warm walls quickly engulf him in. “Fuck, always suckin’ me in.” He chuckled, hands grabbing onto your hips, one hand reaching to slowly caress your clit once more. Your body writhed at the stretch, his scarred cock deliciously stretching you out.

“Time for me to go in too, eh?” Logan gently nipped on your earlobe, earning an eager nod from you as you felt the tip of his cock brush against your tight hole. Gently, oh so gently, he pushed his girth in, earning a loud mewl from you, your hands instantly clasping into Wade’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin. Words couldn’t describe how full you felt once both of them had fully settled in, both of your holes stretched wide. For a moment, your frenzied mind was unable to comprehend the blend of pain and pleasure, making you feel as if you could explode.

Logan’s arms tightly wrapped around your waist, accommodating you as he began to thrust upwards, drilling his cock into your tight ass, his precum alongst the lube making it easier to slide in and out. Wade followed, his cock kissing every pleasurable spot inside your spongy walls, matching your boyfriend’s pace — a steady rhythm and gentle rhythm.

“Hey, keep makin’ those noises.” One hand of Logan’s reached up to lightly squeeze your breast, thumb flicking your hardened nipple. You cried out in pleasure, shaking with each thrust your body met. The three of you were simply so flushed and sweaty, the scent of sex thick in the air. Logan was grunting right into your ear, his voice quieter in comparison to Wade who was moaning freely while fucking your cunt, his grip on your thigh firm, his fingers rubbing your twitching clit at the same pace as before.

“Close?” Wade asked once he felt you clench tightly around him, earning a slow nod from you, your moans growing louder until you felt your stomach uncoiling, pleasure bursting within as you came hard on his cock, body convulsing though Logan’s strong grip didn’t allow you to move much except your legs that were stiffening and tightening around Wade. “F-Feels good, so good!” You spoke in broken, incomprehensible babbles, eyes closed shut and full of tears.

You could feel their thrusts growing uncoordinated and more frantic, both now chasing their own orgasms. Logan’s cock twitched inside your tight hole before he came once again, thick cum soon filling your ass up. “I-In me…!” You moaned at Wade, who obediently followed, breathing heavily as his orgasm hit him, cumming right inside your warm cunt, cock happily nestled inside.

Your body went limp against Logan as Wade collapsed onto you, your arms still wrapped around the scarred man as you tried to catch your breath, your legs trembling profusely, feeling your skin still tingle. “Quite a toll your lil’ nude took on us, pretty.” Logan chuckled from behind, his hand coming up to tenderly caress your head, allowing you to nuzzle onto his palm.

Wade’s head shot up to look at Logan, a wide smirk blooming on his scarred lips. “My turn now.”

It was going to be a long night.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! Could I request Spencer x bau!reader where Spencer is losing his mind when reader is in a dangerous situation and the team doesn’t understand why he’s panicking so much but then he accidentally reveals to the team that he’s been dating reader for awhile

Hi honey! Thanks for requesting :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 880 words

The team hasn’t heard from you in nearly an hour. Spencer knows, reasonably, that an hour isn’t that long. He can do lots of things for more than an hour. Read, walk, work through calculus problems. He’s sat through terrible, awful movies that were more than double that amount of time. The flight here had been nearly three hours, and it had felt like nothing to him.

But when you’re supposed to be undercover and have stopped checking in, the hour since your last message feels broken up into minutes, seconds, milliseconds. Not one of them goes by unnoticed. Because Spencer can’t help but imagine the possibility of you spending that time scared or in pain. 

He’s pacing in front of the board, trying to find the missing piece that will enable the team to go in and get you out of there, when JJ says his name sharply. 

He looks over to find the team staring at him. “Yeah?”

She shakes her head, bewildered. “I’ve called you, like, four times. Y/N’s on her way out.”

Spencer can’t tell if he’s stopped breathing or only just started. “What?” his voice comes out hoarse. 

Hotch nods in confirmation. “She just got a message to Garcia. She’s compromised, but she managed to get out. She’ll be here any minute.” 

Spencer’s out of the tent before he even really processes moving, eyes scanning the parking lot. It’s two precious seconds before he catches sight of you, a shout ripping from his throat as he runs over. 

You make a tiny sound of surprise when he collides with you, grabbing clumsily at your form. He can’t tell if it’s him shaking or you, but whatever you say is muffled against his shirt collar as he presses your face into his shoulder. 

A moment later, he remembers why he’d been so desperate to see you in the first place and pulls back, hands moving over your shoulders, down your arms. 

“Are you okay?” The words feel like they shudder out of him. “Did they hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” you say, taking his wrists in your hands and ducking to look him in the eyes when he persists in his search anyway. “Hey, Spence. I’m okay.” 

“Why didn’t you check in?” He knows for certain it’s him shaking now. It feels like all he is is a jumble of frayed nerves. “Wh—why would you wait so long?”

You shake your head at him, and his brain is moving too erratically to decipher whether that slant to your brows means confusion or concern. “I had to lay low, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour—”

“An hour and four minutes.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, taking him by the shoulders and squeezing lightly. “Spence, honey, it’s alright, okay? I’m sorry I didn't check in earlier, but I’m alright.” 

Spencer gathers you against him again. His body doesn’t know that you’re alright, but he’s trying to prove it. You’re here, he tells himself, in one piece and without visible bleeding. He can feel you, your hands against his back, your chin jutting into his shoulder. 

It’s a longer hug, this time, less desperate, but he still doesn’t let you go all the way even when he does, cradling your face in both hands and pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. 

“You scared me,” he says. Or wheezes, more like. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, and Spencer shakes his head, because that’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want you to be sorry, he wants it to have not happened at all. For you to work the same job without ever needing to take the same risks, so that he can go to work every day and know that he doesn’t need to worry about you. You give him a wry smile, and he wonders if you can tell what he’s thinking. One thing he does know is that you’d never agree to it. 

Spencer can’t walk you back into the tent with his arm around you, but he does the next best thing, placing a hand at your elbow as he turns around. And right there, illuminated from behind by fluorescent lights like some harbinger of bad tidings, is Morgan. 

“Glad to see you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, looking already like he’s left surprise behind and is well on his way to amusement. “Wouldn’t have come out here if I’d known Boy Wonder was gonna have the welcome committee so well under control.” 

“Don’t,” you chide lightly, and Spencer’s hand stays on your elbow, but it’s really more you walking him towards the tent than the other way around. “He’s had a rough couple of hours.” 

“You’ve had the rough couple hours,” Spencer corrects you. 

“We all have,” Morgan mediates, flicking an eyebrow up at Spencer. “Though I have to admit, some of us seemed to be taking it even rougher than the rest. Wonder why that could be.” 

You shoot him a look as you go into the tent, and Morgan holds his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me.” 

Spencer’s still too rattled to scoff, but he doesn’t believe that for a second. The entire team will know before you get back to the jet.

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: hiii idk if u take these kinds of requests but id like to see jealous reader (preferably if reader and hoshina are already in an established relationship and reader works in a different division, meaning they dont get to see each other much) like maybe he’s used to calling okonogi “my dear” and its the first reader heard him call anyone with a pet name like that and she starts to overthink and gets pouty/ sulky and hoshina doesnt notice it at first but when he does he starts teasing her which doesnt help HAHAHAHA if its ok can it be hurt/ comfort and end in fluff & HELLO!! can i request an angst to fluff with hoshina where reader thinks he likes okonogi more than him especially since he is against revealing him n reader’s relationship to the third division (for other reasons of course). hopefully this isnt too specific!! i hope u have a wonderful day:))

notes: hoshina calls the reader “darling”, hurt comfort, him accepting jealousy a valid emotion (very important to me i fear), so sorry i merged the reqs!! i hope this was satisfactory for both TY FOR THE REQ!, this is a twt thread i thought about while writing this, (l/n) mention in the bonus part

wc: 1400

Oh, you hated when this happened. You hated when your heart started to tighten in this horrible way you knew well. You hated being jealous.

You hated how self centered it made you feel and how it ate away at your thoughts and feelings. It made you feel like your good thoughts were disintegrating to horrible ones. However, what you hated even more was how it meant you were doubting his love for you— and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't want to doubt him, nor did you doubt him, but when the jealousy got to your head it was over. You were stuck in a loop.

To top it off, the cause of this all was truly harmless and hardly that big of a deal, but that's usually how most anxious thoughts start. They start little.

You were called to visit the 3rd Division to help with research on a field you were particularly knowledgeable on, and you happened to hear Hoshina's laughter from the operation room, so you went in to take a peek.

“It was not that funny,” Okonogi was saying to him, but Hoshina only continued to laugh.

“Yes, it definitely was,” he laughed. “I knew Kafka would forget about that hole in the training grounds again.”

“Why don't you remind him, then?”

“Comedic relief, of course.”

“Alright then.”

“Okonogi dear, you're no fun,” he said.

They said a few more things, but you couldn't seem to focus on their words. ‘Dear’? Was that merely a simple pet name? Or was there more to them than you initially expected?

Oh, the worries started to fill your head. And they were things you didn't want to be worried about— Okonogi was always so sweet to you when you popped by and you knew Hoshina loved you. The last thing you wished to do was doubt them, nor did you want to make things awkward around them. There were just so many things that you just didn't know about, being in a different division as him. You doubted they even knew you were dating, and the voice in your head would only get louder.

It was then that Hoshina saw you at the doorway and called over to you.

“Are you done with work?” he asked, his voice excited and hopeful. Your heart stung.

“Not quite yet,” you tried to sound disappointed, but for the right reason. “I’ll get going now.”

You walked away from the room as quickly as you could, seemingly naturally. You didn't want to be there and you didn't want to talk to him before calming down first— you were sure you'd say something silly if you spoke now.

Yet, immediately you heard footsteps behind you and a hand you knew well grab yours.

“Soushirou?” you asked, turning to look behind you.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and visible concern in his eyes. “Do you feel unwell?”

Pang in your chest again.

“Not at all, nothing's wrong?” you said, but you could see the way he pursued his lips— the hurt in his eyes from how you wouldn't tell him what was troubling you. Gosh, why did you feel this way? Why must you feel much silly emotions.

“It's truly so stupid,” you said. “I'll tell you another time.”

“Alright,” he said, letting go of your hand. That one was your bad— you knew he wouldn't push you any further, even if he wanted to.

Dinner that night was awkward. You weren't even that jealous, but the fact that you felt something was gnawing at your brain upset you. Not to mention the fact that you were keeping something from him made you feel even worse.

“How was your training?” you asked.

“Alright, I suppose,” he said. There was a horrible moment of silence. You weren’t sure what to say.

“I think I’m getting a hang of this new technique,” he finally continued, but you wouldn’t look up at him— you were afraid he wouldn’t look your way.

“I see,” you said. “That’s really cool… I’d like to see someday.”

“I’ll show you as soon as its better,” he said.

The rest of dinner felt… quiet. The two of you still talked throughout it but it was terribly different from the usual lively catch-up you’d have— it was heart-wrenching quite frankly.

So as you’d imagine, going to sleep was even worse. You subconsciously faced away from him and pretended to fall asleep quickly, hoping he’d sleep soon too. You hated what was going on, but you just couldn’t bring this up. You knew it was silly and you knew you’d forget soon enough. You’d probably regret making such a big deal out of it.

“Darling,” he said, and immediately you turned to face him. He was already facing you. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it… I’m sorry I pushed you.”

Gosh, you thought. You gulped. You wished he wasn’t so kind.

“You’re going to think I’m so annoying though,” you said, voice cracking in a way you didn’t wish for it to and immediately his eyes widened.

“Darling, what happened?” he asked, suddenly worried. “You could never be annoying to me.”

“I… heard you…” you started and he just listened— he waited. “I heard you calling Okonogi, ‘dear.’ And suddenly I—”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, without hesitation. “I hadn’t even realized I did that, it was completely by habit. I won’t anymore.”

You finally met his eyes and the way he looked so horrified he had made you feel bad was so prominent in his eyes.

“No, Soushirou,” you said. “I didn’t mean for you to have to change anything— I know so well that both of you are so sweet to me and there’s nothing going on. I just—”

“Darling, calm down,” he said, cutting you off. “You’ve done nothing wrong, why are you beating yourself up? This was my bad and that’s about it. None of this is you.”

“I—,” you said, taking a moment to collect yourself. “I hate to be jealous, Soushirou. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” he asked and you paused to look up at him, utterly confused.

“Why?” he asked again.

“It’s such an… ugly feeling,” you said.

“Is it?”

“Is it… not?”

“What’s wrong with being jealous?”

“Because it’s like I’m doubting you or something… when I don’t at all.”

“I think that’s a different thing entirely, no?” he asked. “You can know in your head that I’m in love with you and still feel something else— they’re not always the same. A little jealousy is perfectly healthy, I think.”

“Oh…” you said. You wanted to say so much more but there was so much to process first. Your heart swelled with such warmth.

“I get jealous too. I hate when Narumi gets too close to you or bothers you when I’m not around,” he continued on. “But in my head I know you’d never do anything to hurt me and you’d stop him if he crosses a line. I’ll try to stop if that bothers you though.”

“No,” you said. “That sounds… nice. I’m rather… happy… you were a jealous actually. But I’ll make sure to keep some more distance between Captain Narumi next time.”

He laughed. “Sounds good. But you tell me if there’s anything more that bothers you okay. I’ll fix myself up.”

“I will,” you said and he kissed your forehead. “But Soushirou, I don’t mind much anymore. You can stay the way you are.”

“No, no, stop overthinking. You need to sleep now, you have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Yeah. You too Sou,” you said and he hummed.

Once you were certain he was asleep, you kissed his cheek and slipped your hand into his. You liked holding his hand when you fell asleep, but you weren’t sure if it made it harder for him to fall asleep.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. “You mean the world to me.”

You lightly kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him up, but to your surprised he smiled. He squeezed your hand and without opening his eyes, “You missed,” he said.

He kissed you on the lips and you laughed, snuggling up against him. “You were awake.”

“I was waiting for you to hold my hand,” he said. “I like when we hold hands when we sleep.”

BONUS:

From then on, Hoshina stopped calling Okonogi “dear” as much, and it’d only happen when it truly slipped out of him from force of habit.

“Vice-Captain, you’ve started dating (l/n), haven’t you?” she said to him one day while they were sorting through files.

“How... did you know?” he asked. The two of you had been dating for quite a while now, but he was more surprised she guessed you correctly.

“It’s terribly obvious you’re completely in love,” she said.

He blinked. And then he laughed. 

He’d have to ask you that night if he can share the news with everyone, properly, then.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Summary: It's finally time for your coffee date with Eddie, leading the two of you to fall even harder for each other.

Warnings: brief mention of drug dealing, Reader's grandma has dementia, character death

WC: 6.5k

Chapter 9/20

Divider credit to @saradika

The lime green numbers of the microwave clock reads 11:57, which means that Eddie will be here any minute. You drag your palms on the thighs of your boot-cut jeans, triple-checking that your perspiration hasn’t left a visible stain on the light-wash fabric.

“Okay, her lunch is in the fridge. And the number of the coffee shop is on the counter,” you tell Jess, pointing to the scrap of notebook paper in front of her. “If you need something, just call, and I’ll come home.”

Jess waves away your concern with a kind smile. She’d been pleading with you to get out there and date for ages now, and she was just glad you’d finally taken her advice. Though, you note wryly, she would not be happy if she knew who that date was.

“We’ll be fine,” she reassures you, bracing a hand on your shoulder. “If anything, we’ll need to check on you. Who is this mystery date, anyway?” 

“Just a guy,” you say, trying to remain light and casual while simultaneously fighting down the barrage of nerves in your stomach.

Jess takes a step back, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, God, it’s not one of those creeps from a dating hotline, is it? Because I’ve never heard of one of those that didn’t end up on 48 Hours.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” you shake your head, spotting a piece of lint on your cable knit sweater and plucking it off carefully. You flick it off of your finger, silently berating yourself when you remember that you’ll have to vacuum it later. “It’s a guy from around here.”

Your friend wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as the buzzer rings. You race to the intercom to let him in before he can say anything, but your reflexes are too slow.

“Hey, it’s me.” The sound of his voice has your body pulsing, an eager grin tugging at your lips despite your intentions to keep calm. His slight rasp has you craving the sting of tobacco just to flatten your nerves.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Okay, I’ll be right down.” Grabbing your jacket from where you’ve haphazardly thrown it over the back of the couch, you’ve almost made it to the door, when—

“No. No.” You cringe at the way Jess’s words bite into your excitement. “Please tell me that your date is not Eddie Munson.” You can only offer her a sheepish grin, and she rolls her eyes. “Seriously?!”

You huff out a sigh, both impatient to go on the date and flustered at being caught. “Look, he’s changed. A lot.”

“Oh, you mean he stopped calling you a bitch and making shitty comments about your grandma?” Jess snorts. “How chivalrous.”

There’s no time to explain everything that’s happened, so you simply say, “I’ll be back in two hours,” before closing the door behind you, making sure that it latches before you start down the hallway. 

Eddie is waiting in the tiny lobby. He’s leaned up against the double doors, tapping one Reebok-clad foot and examining his fingernails anxiously. A memory crashes over you; one where his nails are painted jet black, though there hasn’t been any polish on them in some time. 

He smiles as soon as he spots you, standing up straighter and walking to meet you before you can get to the door. “Hey,” he says softly, letting his hand brush yours as he kisses your cheek. 

“Hey, yourself.” You want to kiss him back, but not on his cheek. Your lips yearn to crash against his once more; this time, anchored in belonging rather than lust. Instead, you manage a compliment. “You clean up nice.”

It’s the truth. His gray jeans are free of any holes, sometimes intentional but often the result of overwearing. The sleeves of his red sweater are pushed up slightly, exposing the litany of tattoos on his arms, and it occurs to you that you want to know each of their origins. 

“Can’t lie, Harris helped pick out my clothes today,” he admits. “He caught me trying to figure out what to wear and we finally agreed on this.” He sweeps a hand down his side to emphasize his point. 

“Was the ponytail his idea, too?” His curls are pulled back and rest at the nape of his neck. 

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh as his cheeks tinge pink. “Nah, that was all me.” He pauses, gaze briefly landing on your mouth before his eyes are drawn back to yours. “You’re…you’re beautiful.”

You try to shrug off the compliment, still caught off-guard by his kindness. You wonder when—or if—that unease will dissipate. “I think you’re just used to seeing me with Play-Doh stuck to my shirt,” you tease, but he doesn’t break his trance. 

“You’re always beautiful.” The sincerity of his statement clings to a silence that should be awkward, but is somehow comforting. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, lifting the fog of budding romance that clouds the lobby. “Let’s go get some coffee, yeah?”

Eddie takes your hand in his when you nod, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you. He sweeps his hand in the direction of the seat, and you giggle.

“Such a gentleman.”

He doesn’t divulge that Wayne reminded him to open doors for you when he’d come over to the apartment for dinner last night, or that the older man had slipped him a crumpled ten dollar bill and whispered, “get her something to eat, too,” punctuating his statement with a wink.

His left leg bounces as he starts the engine and he grates his teeth over his lower lip. He doesn’t even realize that he’s doing either of these things until you timidly rest a hand on his right knee and ask, “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, gliding the gear shift from ‘park’ to ‘reverse’ as he backs out of his spot. “Just, uh, been a long time since I’ve gone on a date.” And never with someone so goddamn perfect, he wants to add, but he’s stopped by the fear of coming on too strong.

You graze your thumb over the gray denim and smile at him. “Well, you’re doing great so far.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins at your reassurance, the soft dimples at the corners of his mouth deepening. 

“Yeah.”

He turns on the radio with a slight snap of his wrist, shifting the skull ring that wraps around his middle finger. A metal song comes on that you don’t recognize, drumbeats thumping through the old speakers. Eddie winces, nudging the volume down so he can hear himself speak over the impending guitar solo. “You can change it to something you like better.”

“Nah, this is fine,” you shake your head. “Kinda warming up to heavier music since someone gave me a Guns ‘N Roses tape.”

Eddie’s eyebrows brush the edge of his tousled bangs in surprise. “You really listen to it?”

“All the time,” you confirm truthfully. It’s quickly become one of your favorites; each time you play it, you’re reminded of Harris dressed as a miniature Axl Rose, drawing a picture of you and Eddie holding hands. Not to mention the way that Eddie adoringly gazed at you while you calmed his son down, quickly throwing together an art project and saving the day.

“How’s Grandma?” he asks now, pressing on the brake as he approaches a stop sign.

“Same as always. Her aid had to take her to the hospital the other day because she fell, and she’s been losing more language.” You try to play it off like it doesn’t bother you, but your heart pangs as you speak. When she was initially diagnosed, you’d known that she’d forget who people were, but you hadn’t realized that she would eventually forget how to talk. “Good news is, she hasn’t lost her appetite for Oreos. I have to keep the package you brought over hidden away so she doesn’t eat them all.”

Eddie laughs at this. “Told you; there’s nothing Oreos can’t fix.” He pulls into the cafe parking lot and snags the first available spot he sees. “I really am sorry that you have to see that, though. It can’t be easy.”

You keep your eyes trained on the dashboard, knowing that you’ll tear up if you catch a glance of his sympathetic expression. “‘S just par for the course with dementia, I guess.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything else–he isn’t sure what to say–as he kills the engine. He clicks off his seatbelt to scramble to your door, but it gets snagged in the crook of his elbow, yanking him back.

“Jesus, shit,” he grumbles, untangling himself from the trap he’d inadvertently created. “Don’t move; I’m not done being a gentleman.”

You put your hands up in surrender, watching as he walks to your side and opens the door. “Wow, that was such a surprising gesture,” you mock him, letting out a breathless scoff when he flips you the bird. “Giving me the middle finger kinda negates the whole ‘gentleman’ thing, dontcha think?”

Eddie pretends to consider this, crossing his arms over his chest while shifting his weight to one leg, bringing his hand to his freshly-shaved chin. “Mm, nope.” He helps you out of the seat, still not letting go of your hand once you’re standing next to his car. He holds it tighter, so you can feel every etch of the lifelines across his palm.

The mouth-watering scent of warm pastries and freshly brewed coffee swirls throughout the cafe, wafting to your nose as soon as you open the door. Or, more precisely, as soon as Eddie opens the door for you. You assume he’ll slip his fingers back through yours after you’re both inside, but he hesitates before letting his palm hover on the small of your back. You can barely feel the pads of his fingertips through your thick sweater, but as soon as you give him a smile, he allows himself to hold you a bit closer.

A chipper, twenty-something barista whose name tag reads Stephanie greets you as you approach the counter. “Hi! What can I get you folks?” 

Eddie nudges you to place your order, which you give with a polite smile. “Just a coffee with room for milk,” you tell her. 

You turn to Eddie so he can give his order, but he says softly, “Get something to eat, too.” He points to the display of baked goods before you, and you peer into the case. The prices are listed next to each item, and you furrow your brow at the $2 brownie. 

“Oh, s’okay,” you murmur, trying to play it off. The last thing you need is for Eddie to think you’re pitying him, which, okay, maybe you are. He just doesn’t have to know that. “You can get something, though.”

He shakes his head with a grin. “I’m not falling for that trick, Sweetheart.” It’s odd to hear the nickname without the prefix Ms. in front of it, or without a sneer in his voice. It’s kind, comforting, dare you even venture…a term of endearment? “You tell me you don’t want anything, and then you end up eating half of what I pick. Nope, you’re getting your own.”

“Fine, fine,” you roll your eyes playfully, eventually settling on a blueberry muffin. Eddie’s coffee order is the same as yours, but he gets a chocolate chunk cookie with his. He digs into his back pocket for his wallet, worn and frayed around the edges, and pulls out a ten-dollar bill, leaving a remaining dollar in the colorful jar marked ‘Tips’.

You grab the plated pastries and Eddie shuffles behind with the coffee mugs, gently placing them on the counter next to the silver thermoses and baskets of sugar packets. You pour a bit of milk into yours, watching in amusement as Eddie dumps some of the coffee into the trashcan, filling the mug with half & half and tearing open three Domino packets. 

“You want some coffee with that sugar bomb?” you gently tease, and he flicks your shoulder with a dramatic pout on his lips. 

“I’d rather this than whatever bitter concoction you’re drinking,” he retorts, taking an exaggerated sip from his mug and punctuating it with an aaaahhh. 

You roll your eyes. “You really should be grateful that I like bitter things. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t like you.” Your response earns you another flick to the shoulder before Eddie brings the drinks to a table tucked away in the corner. 

You set the cookie in front of him and the muffin at your spot across from him, pulling a crumb from the side and popping it in your mouth. The sweetness of the pastry with the slightly sour berry is heaven on your tongue. 

“‘S good?” Eddie asks, smiling brightly when you nod your head. “Wanna try a bite of mine?” He breaks off a piece, and a smattering of crumbs fall to the table. You expect him to place the piece in your hand; instead, he leans over and brings it to your lips. His fingertips brush against them, parting them ever-so-slightly. An electric buzz hums down your spine, and you wonder if he feels it, too. 

You’re careful not to let your tongue graze his fingers as you take the chocolate-flecked dessert into your mouth. Eddie, however, is in no rush. He lingers, slowly moving the rough pads of his fingers across your soft lips. In doing so, he wipes away rogue remnants of the cookie he just fed you, though you strongly doubt that that was his intention. 

“Here, try mine.” You pinch off a piece of the muffin, a bit bigger than the piece you took for yourself, and bring it to him. His lips close around the very tips of your thumb and forefinger where you’re holding the bite of muffin. You feel the brief flicker of his tongue, gone before you can even process it, taking the muffin piece with it. 

“Not bad,” Eddie says with a grin. “I don’t usually like fruit in my dessert, but I’d make an exception for that. Could definitely use some more chocolate, though.” As if to illustrate his sentiment, he takes a comically large bite of his cookie. 

“One of these days, I’ll get you to eat a vegetable.” You mean it as a joke, a ribbing towards his poor eating habits, but it implies that you’ll stick around. That you care about him. You’re unclear about how he interpreted your statement, so you quickly change the subject before he can think about it. “I do have a question for you. Completely unrelated to the lack of nutrients in your diet.”

Eddie ignores the teasing jab and takes another bite of cookie. “Shoot.”

“The, uh, lock-picking kit,” you start, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your nerves calm. “Do you just keep them laying around?” You hate the idea of him using it to commit break-ins. If that was the truth, would he even admit it to you?

But Eddie just laughs, sipping his barely-coffee with a knowing smirk. “When Harris was about two, Wayne was watching him. He left for a second to grab the mail and the little stinker locked him out.”

“Out of the trailer?!” you ask incredulously, jaw dropping in shock.

“Out of the trailer,” Eddie confirms, shaking his head as though he still can’t believe it himself. “So, yeah. Ever since that happened, I’ve kept a lock-picking kit in my car.” He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. He drums his fingertips on the table as he says, “Tell me about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Eddie accentuates his request with a quick poke of your hand before returning his grip to the mug handle. “Like, how did you end up being the one schlepping out to Hawkins to take care of Grandma?”

You shrug and bring the hot cup to your lips, letting the steam tickle your nose before you drink. “She and I were always really close, and teaching is a job that’s everywhere. It was just easier for me to pick up and move, I guess.”

Eddie pauses, nodding as he considers his next question. He rubs his palm back and forth on the side of his mug; there’s an air of nervousness around him. “Tell me about her. Grandma, I mean. Like, how she was before she got sick.”

“Where do I start?” It’s strange, you think, the way memories work. Sometimes it seems like the more Grandma forgets, the more you remember. You’ll just be lesson planning, or hurriedly making photocopies at work, or heating up leftovers in the microwave, and a memory will crash over you. Suddenly, you’re plucked from reality and transported to Benny’s Diner where you and she used to split a giant stack of pancakes. Or to the shoe store where she’d buy you a new pair of sneakers every August before the start of the new school year. “She just loved taking care of people. Cooking for them or cheering them up. She wasn’t the type of person to tell you to stop crying when you’d get upset, y’know? She’d sit there with you, rub your back, and let you get all the tears out.” You muster a wistful smile in a paltry attempt to hide the shame blooming in your chest. “It’s all so fucked, the way I talk about her like she’s gone when she’s still here.”

 “No.” Eddie’s voice is soft yet adamant. “I don’t think it’s fucked at all. Because, I dunno, it’s like she’s not here, in a way. Physically, yeah; but almost like…” He stops himself to avoid speaking out of turn and making a fool of himself.

“Like she’s a shell of who she used to be,” you finish for him, and relief floods his body when you understand the point he’s trying to make.

He nods. “Exactly.” He smooths his ponytail reflexively. “I think you’re a lot like her. How she was, anyway. The way you’re always looking out for people, like…let’s say��a bitter wannabe rockstar and his adorable yet mischievous son?”

“That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten in a long time.” It’s all you want, really–to spread joy and kindness to others, filling in gaps that have remained empty for so long that they seemingly go unnoticed. “Maybe ever, actually.”

Good, Eddie wants to say. He wants to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, each one kinder than the last, until you’re utterly flustered. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject and asks, “What made you wanna be a teacher?”

This is a much easier question for you to answer. “I just love seeing kids learn,” you beam. “Being able to do things they couldn’t do before; things they never thought they’d be able to do.”

He returns your smile easily; something about hearing you speak about your profession with such gratification has him buzzing.“Speaking of which,” he says, sneaking a mouthful of cookie between words, “I took Harris to the supermarket yesterday. And when we passed by the seafood section, he points to a sign, sounds out cuh-ahh-d, and goes, ‘that says cod!’”

“That’s incredible! Look at our little reader go!” You could jump out of your seat with excitement, held back only by the desire to not go overboard in your display of enthusiasm.

Eddie nods in agreement. “I was so proud, I damn near bought all of the candy in the store.” He cocks his head, amusement tugging the corners of his lips upwards. “Any idea where he learned how to read like that?”

“Not a clue.” You try to force a deadpan expression to reinforce the sarcasm in your remark, but your happiness betrays you in the form of a giggle. You clap a hand over your mouth, but he reaches out to pull it down, keeping your fingers clasped with his.

He strokes his thumb over your knuckles, watching the digit sweep back and forth for a moment. “You really are pretty, y’know.” The admission feels like a weight has been both removed from and added to his shoulders. Now you know how he feels, but now you know how he feels.

You, meanwhile, are far less fixated on his vulnerability and focus instead on his phrasing. The opportunity has presented itself so perfectly, and you have to seize it.

“Like a princess?” Your eyes gleam with playfulness.

“Wha–oh, Christ.” Eddie’s features shift from confusion to embarrassment over the span of a second. “What did that kid tell you?”

“Not a lot,” you say nonchalantly, taking an innocent swig of coffee. It’s cooled down considerably, but you’ve never been one to let a drop of caffeine go to waste. “Just that you think I’m ‘pretty like a princess.’”

Eddie uses his free hand to rub his eyes, swiping his thumb and forefinger across the lids. “What a little snitch.”

“It’s true, then?” You perch your chin in your hand, batting your eyelashes and reveling in his awkwardness. His cheeks flush red and a nervous chuckle splices the silence between you.

“To be fair,” he finally counters, trying to gather his thoughts before they scatter again, “I was asked if I thought you were pretty like a princess. I didn’t, like, come up with that on my own.”

You purse your lips into a pout, feigning disappointment. “So you don’t think I’m pretty like a princess?”

“N-No, you are!” He takes a deep breath and composes himself as he notices you trying to hold in your laughter. “All right, which would you prefer? We talking trading your fins for legs or losing your glass slipper at a ball?”

“Neither,” you chide, scratching at the base of your neck absentmindedly. “More like…bookworm who rescues people in need no matter what the personal cost and captures the heart of the town outcast.” You hope that he doesn’t take offense to that last part, as true as it might be.

“So…Belle?” Eddie chuckles when you raise your eyebrows at him. “What? I have a little ankle biter, I know Disney movies.”

“Harris would never bite your ankles,” you scoff, grinning at the mere thought of the littlest Munson gnawing at the bottom of his dad’s legs mid-tantrum. “He’d just lock you out of the house until he gets what he wants.”

Eddie lifts his half-drank cup of coffee. “I’ll drink to that,” he agrees, and you gently knock your mug into his. The porcelain rims make a slight clink as they touch, echoes muffled by the chipped edges.

“So,” you start, allowing yourself to swim in his deep brown eyes for a beautiful moment before you pivot the conversation. “Why did you move to Chicago? Why not, like, LA or New York?”

He shrugs, wiping the residue of a coffee mustache from his upper lip. “Guess I wanted to stay kinda close to home. In case something happened to Wayne, or the music thing didn’t work out, or,” he smiles wryly, “if I knocked up a groupie and needed help raising a newborn.” 

You press your lips together to stifle a giggle of your own, careful not to smudge whatever’s left of the lipstick you meticulously applied earlier. “So you moved back after Harris was born?”

“Yeah, when he was about…” Eddie silently does the math in his head, “a month old? Six weeks, maybe? When I realized that the whole ‘parenting’ thing is a hell of a lot harder than I thought. Especially doing it alone.” He drops his voice to a whisper as though he’s about to divulge a great secret. “Did you know that babies wake up, like, every half hour?”

“You don’t say?” Sarcasm is thickly woven into your tone. “Tell me more, Dr. Spock.”

Eddie snatches the muffin from your plate and takes an unprompted bite in retaliation. He chews like a cow on cud, slow and deliberate, relishing in his baked good thievery. You watch, unblinking, as a smirk crosses his face. “All right, smartass,” he snorts once he finally swallows, “not all of us specialize in taking care of kids.” He breaks off a hunk of his cookie and leaves it on your plate, a delicious peace offering that you gladly accept. “Anyway, Wayne let us stay with him until I found a place. Took a while to build up some funds, but I finally managed.”

“Where were you working?”

His face blanches at your question, and he finds himself inclined to bunch the paper napkin into a ball and shove it in his mouth to avoid answering. “Wh-What?”

“You said you had to build up some funds,” you explain, as though it were a convoluted construct. “Were you at the music store back then?”

“Oh, um. No.” Quicksand. Volcano eruption. A piano falling from the sky like in a classic Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote showdown. Eddie would’ve taken any of these options over giving you an answer. “I went back to my old high school gig of, uh, dealing.” His cheeks are beet red, the heat radiating from them is the only distraction from the shame curdling in his lungs. 

He keeps his eyes on the floor; to his surprise, your feet remain planted on the ground. You’re not leaving. “Oh.” Your voice draws him back to reality. “But you don’t…”

“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “I’m totally done with that scene. It’s just minimum wage, on-the-books bullshit for me now. I even pay taxes.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “Although…the manager is transferring to another store soon.”

You slam your hands on the table in excitement, eyes alight with joy at this new opportunity for him. “Eddie, you have to apply!” Your eagerness fades when you notice the frown on his face. Shit, did he think you were telling him what to do? “I’m sorry if–”

“Nah, you’re good.” He bites his thumbnail without thinking, withdrawing it from between his front teeth when he sees you watching him. “‘S not like I haven’t considered it. Just feels like…if I do that, I’m officially giving up on the whole rockstar dream. Like I’m closing that chapter of my life.”

This time, you’re the one who holds onto him. His palm is pressed flat on the Formica table, and you bring your fingers underneath it to scoop his hand into yours. You give it a quick squeeze, watching a delicate smile develop across his lips. “Is that necessarily a bad thing, though? You’re not giving up on anything; you’re just shifting your priorities to make sure that Harris is always number one.” He nods halfheartedly, but you continue. “And you can always get back into music, find another band, or…maybe even make up with the Corroded Coffin guys?”

Eddie sighs, taking a strand of hair that’s fallen from its rubber band enclosure and tucking it behind his right ear. “Yeah. Maybe.” He doesn’t quite believe it; not after the terrible things he said to Jeff. Not after Gareth said he doesn’t look up to him anymore. A Corroded Coffin reunion seems about as likely as Wayne becoming a Radio City Rockette. He clears his throat and shifts his gaze back to you. “This is, uh, not first date conversation.”

You laugh at this, nodding in agreement. “No, it most certainly isn’t.” You use your free hand to take a final swig of coffee, now on the cooler side of lukewarm. “But I don’t think you and I have done anything conventionally, so it seems to be par for the course.”

Eddie shifts in his seat to lean in closer. He’s heard your response, but he’s not accepting it. Just because things began backwards didn’t mean they had to continue that way. “Tell me about you,” he says. “What do you like to do for fun? Like, hobbies and stuff.”

Your mind goes blank, as though you’ve never enjoyed any activity in your life. “Hmm,” you ponder, trying to remember a moment that wasn’t spent lesson planning or breaking up big arguments between small humans or taking care of an elderly woman who couldn’t stand you half the time. “I really love to cook,” you finally manage, thinking of the hours when you and Grandma stood in her kitchen, preparing meals or snacks or baked goods to munch on.

“No shit!” Eddie blurts out, eyes widening. “I really love to eat.”

“I’ll have to cook for you sometime,” you tell him. Surprisingly, you’re not shy when you say it. The image of you standing before the stove, stirring a pot on a burner or taking a tray of roasted vegetables from the oven while Eddie and Harris set the kitchen table, warms you from the inside out. You express your love by making meals for others, just like Grandma does. Did. “Your favorite food is olives, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in his seat. He opens his legs slightly as he bites the inside of his lower lip to hide his smile. “I hate you sometimes, y’know that?”

“Yeah, I hate you, too.”

As soon as you and Eddie step out of the little cafe hand in hand, the bitter slap of winter is all-consuming. Snow flurries flutter to the ground, melting as soon as they touch the faded green grass. The coldness of the flakes stings the tip of your nose, and you wiggle it to try to ward off the impending numbness.

Eddie breaks the connection to dig out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from one pocket and his lighter from the other. He flicks the switch a few times before it finally catches as he shields the flame from the harsh winds. As soon as it does, he tucks the lighter away and immediately re-laces his left fingers with your right, taking a long drag and offering it out to you with a grin.

“Since you’re just a social smoker and don’t keep any on you,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. You wonder how he could possibly know this until memories of that fateful night at the Hideout come roaring back to you. You and Eddie standing outside, making painfully awkward small talk while you figured out how to initiate a sexual encounter.

You inhale, letting the tobacco mingle with the taste of coffee and muffin already saturating your tongue, and pass the cigarette back to him. It’s a slow walk to his car; the two of you take your time as you breathe in smoke and each other’s closeness. Eddie lets you kill out the cigarette, eyes never leaving your body as you stub it into a nearby ashtray.

“I have a little confession to make,” he begins, quickly amending his statement when he catches the horrified expression on your face. “No, nothing bad; I swear!” He laughs lightly when you exhale, pressing your hand to your heart in relief. “Okay, the reason I took you out for coffee is because, well, I figured if things went well, I’d know your coffee order and could bring it to you at work or something? Like when I drop Harris off in the morning.”

The early December chill dissipates at his offer. Just the thought of Eddie memorizing your coffee order, handing you the styrofoam cup with a chaste kiss to your cheek so that none of your students or co-workers can catch you, fills you with a buzzing warmth. “I’d really like that.”

“Good,” Eddie nods, stopping at his parked car. You spot Harris’s carseat in the back, reminding you of the night Eddie drove you to his place after his show. The way he tried to hide the existence of his son from you, as though it would deter you from pursuing anything further. You can’t help but wonder how many women had turned him down after learning that he’s a dad. It has to be a decent amount, a pattern that developed, for him to become so jaded and guarded over it.

His calloused thumb ghosts over your cheek, though you can hardly feel it after being exposed to the stinging air. His gaze meets yours and he holds it, chocolate orbs fueling the fire within you.

“Feels weird asking to kiss you after we’ve already…” he trails off with a chuckle, tone laced with ambivalence. The last time he’d pressed his lips to yours, he didn’t want to stop, which scared the living shit out of him. And that was under the pretense of casual sex, not intended to go any farther than a one-night stand. But now? Now he was about to kiss you after a date, after telling you that you look pretty, after admitting that planned to get you coffee in the mornings.

If he kisses you now, there’s no going back.He’s sealing the deal, opening himself up to heartbreak, the potential to be crushed when the relationship comes to a screeching halt.

But, he reminds himself silently, it also means someone to watch movies with. Someone to buy flowers–or coffee–for. Someone to hold, to touch. Someone to share stories with, from the mundane tasks of the day to big, exciting news. Someone who I could love, who could love me and my boy.

“Eddie?” Your voice breaks into his mind, overrun with racing thoughts about the good, the bad, and the ugly of falling in–

You bring your lips to his, effectively silencing his inner monologue. His right hand stays on your face as his left grips your waist to return the kiss, deepening it with a gentle prod of his tongue. It’s wanting, but not hungry, like he’s savoring every last bite of a long-time craving. He wants this, he wants you, forever. He swears he’d never let you go if he didn’t have an oversugared, overtired four-year-old to attend to.

“You are…” he murmurs, nudging his nose with yours, but he has no idea how to end the sentence. Perfect? Mine? The one for me? “...the best.” It feels like a cop-out, but he doesn’t want to come on too strong. The irony is not lost on him that he had no problem spewing insults at you, but hesitates when it comes to affection.

“The best coffee date?” you tease, resting your hands on his chest. The sweater’s scratchy wool itches your palms, and you can’t imagine he’ll make it ten steps through the door before changing into one of his signature band tees.

“Yes. No. Yes.” He kisses your nose, an electric spark flying between you. “But also just…the best.” His fingers clasp around the door handle as he begrudgingly opens your door, not wanting the date to end. “Shall I take you home?”

No, you think, biting back your protest. No, take me to your place. Kiss me more, kiss me deeper, kiss me where the curve of my hips meets the plush of my thighs. Let me help you with your sweater; you’ll be so much more comfortable without it, Eddie.

“Okay,” you manage, sliding into your seat. He closes the door once you’re inside, jogging around to his side with a breathy chuckle.

“Gotta keep warm,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. The car rumbles to life, and as soon as he’s out of his parking spot, he takes your hand once again. Your intertwined fingers rest atop the gearshift for the entire drive to your building.

He turns off the car and faces you. “Let me walk you in.” Five simple words that ordinarily would preface sex; Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever uttered them in that order without at least the anticipation of getting laid. But there’s none of that now. He just wants to spend as much time with you as he can, before the spell is broken and he turns back into a pumpkin. Could the prince turn back into the Beast? he wonders wryly.

You cock your brow. “You sure about that? What if Grandma’s gotten herself into more trouble?”

“I’m willing to take that risk.” And he is. He’d risk everything, and for the first time in a long while, he’s not running from that feeling.

Luckily, there’s no crisis when you and Eddie arrive on your doorstep. You trade a few more giggle-laced kisses before you finally part.

The stars align on Monday morning, with Harris actually cooperating and getting ready with enough time for Eddie to stop off at the cafe to get your coffee. Okay, letting him have a Pop-Tart for breakfast instead of cereal definitely helped the situation, but it was a special occasion! And it’s not like he could tell Harris that he needed to pick up coffee for Ms. Sweetheart; the kid would be hiring caterers for a wedding if he knew. 

Eddie had wanted to call you on Sunday, maybe see if you wanted to go to the playground with him and Harris and get some ice cream afterwards, but he’d ultimately decided against it. Give it some time; don’t be too eager. 

It occurs to him that bringing you coffee is something that a boyfriend would do, and he hasn’t actually asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Do adults do that? Or is it just kinda implied? Shit, maybe I can take her out again this weekend and ask, just to be sure.

He gives Harris a hug and a kiss goodbye, careful not to spill any of the hot beverage as he crouches down to his height. Jitters course through his veins as he approaches your classroom, but he knows that the joy on your face–either from his kind gesture or the prospect of caffeine–will make it all worth it.

When he gets there, he only sees Will. He can’t stick around long; he doubts his boss will accept trying to impress my maybe-girlfriend as a valid excuse for tardiness.

“Hey, Byers,” Eddie calls out with a wave, pointing to the cup. “I’m just gonna leave this on her desk, if that’s cool.” He spots a black Sharpie and is about to use it to write Date night on Friday? when he catches Will’s expression. It’s a combination of confusion and sadness, with his brows pinching together as he walks over to Eddie. 

Will shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “Um, she’s not coming in today. Probably not for the rest of the week.”

“Is she okay?” Worry mars Eddie’s confidence, and the sense of dread only worsens when Will quietly ushers him to the corner of the room away from the kids. “Is she sick or something?” he adds once the students are out of earshot. Will looks up at Eddie, though the height gap has decreased considerably since he was a freshman and Eddie was working through his third senior year. His eyes are shiny with tears, and he blinks them back and clears his throat. “Eddie…” he says softly, “her grandma died last night.”

--

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[melodygatesauthor]

Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe Four - The Student

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

This time I found you at a university. Of course things couldn’t just be simple. You couldn’t just be a faculty member or even a damn janitor, no…you had to be my fucking student. Why couldn’t things be easy just for once? It’s fine…I’ll just have to figure out how to work around it…

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, More tags on the masterlist.

Word Count: 5k

It was a morning like every other.

You were on your way to your physics class, coffee in hand and your two friends on either side of you, Mira and Stacy. Mira had a skip in her step, excited about a guy she met at the coffee shop just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes, too concerned with the results of last week’s test in Dr. O’Hara’s class to be bothered with your friend’s endeavors.

“Hey!” Stacy screamed your name, grabbing your collar and pulling you back from the street and onto the curb.

A car flew by you, stopping your heart in your chest as you moved back from the street two more steps. You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t paid any attention to the road. Stacy spat your name in a scolding manner.

“Jesus, you almost got yourself killed, what the hell are you thinking?” She shook her head.

“Thank you,” you said, taking a deep breath, “I guess I’m just…I’m so nervous about my test I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly,” she agreed, putting both hands on her hips like a parent scolding a child. “I’m sure you did fine on your test. You said you studied right?”

The three of you started walking again toward the building where your classes were held.

“Yeah, I did, but I mean…the last test I took I failed, I can’t fail again.” You felt dread weighing heavy on your chest as the large brick building blocked out the sun on your approach.

Mira patted your back. “You’re smart, I’m sure you did fine.” She chuckled as she jogged ahead toward the building. “Besides! I’m sure that Dr. O’Hara would let you suck his dick for a better grade!”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at Mira’s comment. She never ceased to say things that were embarrassing beyond belief. Everyone knew that Dr. O’Hara was hot. The man wore dress shirts, sure, but either he couldn’t find ones that fit properly, or he intentionally wore a size too small so people would know he worked out. It was hard to think about much else when his pectorals were so prominently displayed under a thin veil of fabric. It didn’t help either that his nipples seemed to be perpetually stiff, clearly visibly underneath his shirt, just like they were today.

“Good morning cl–”

Dr. O’Hara’s failure to finish his sentence caught you off guard, forcing your eyes on him as you walked the rest of the way into the room. You felt nervous, averting your eyes immediately and staring at the floor as you walked to your desk. After your friend’s inappropriate comment, and his lingering gaze, you couldn’t help thinking about things a student shouldn’t imagine about their professor.

Things like…what if you could suck his dick for a better grade?

He cleared his throat. “Alright class, I’m going to pass back your tests now.”

You’d done a fine job on your exam. Miguel’s predecessor, the Miguel of this universe, had already graded your paper and even put a little smiley face next to the number 87 in red ink. It was obvious that this one hadn’t made any moves on you, but he had taken a liking to you. That wouldn’t work in Miguel’s favor though. He needed you to be so desperate that you might be willing to go to great lengths to get your grade fixed.

The jealousy that stabbed Miguel in the gut when he realized that his alternate was enraptured by you made it easy to rid himself of the man. In fact, he felt nothing as he watched the life leave Miguel’s eyes. He felt nothing as he buried the man so far into the ground that no one would ever find his body.

It wasn’t that Miguel wanted to be predatory toward you, in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was clear that you were younger in this universe than in previous ones. Your birth date was the same, he saw it in your records on the school database before he took over for your prior professor, but the year was different. He’d already gone through great lengths just to find you, so what was a little manipulation just to have you? You’d be grateful in the end, he just knew it.

He passed the tests around, watching you carefully to gauge your response to his little note he made at the top of your test. 

Come to my office after your classes so we can discuss your grade and your future in my class.

You looked down at the glaring 62 on your exam with the note to meet Dr. O’Hara in his office later. A pit formed in your gut. The words, ‘your future in my class’, stuck out more than the rest. You gulped, hands shaking as you put the failed test in your book bag and turned your attention back to class. You hated that professors seemed to do that, handing out your tests prior to the start of class. How in the hell were you expected to focus for the rest of the class with the looming threat that you might be told to retake the class next semester?

He felt a little bad after seeing your face drop at the sight of the failed exam. In some ways Miguel missed the therapist. She was bold, more mature, and he felt like she was, personality-wise, the closest to you he had found thus far. In this universe you were naive, young, bright-eyed and inexperienced. In some ways that was exciting, thinking about how easy it would be to mold you into the woman he’d lost, or at least as close to the original as possible. In other ways he didn’t love the idea of corrupting you like that.

It didn’t matter though, in the end as long as he had you, whether by moral means or immoral, that’s all that mattered.

Later that evening, shortly after finishing your final class for the day, you found yourself standing outside of Dr. O’Hara’s office, knuckles rapping on the door in an uneven rhythm. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was deafening while you waited for him to open the door. Earlier you and your friends had joked about what you were going to do in there, but this wasn’t a movie, this was reality, and your professor wasn’t going to let you sleep your way out of a bad grade.

Not that you really wanted to do that anyway.

Your unusually tall professor opened the door, stepping back to let you inside. He was quiet when he locked the door, so quiet that you wouldn’t even notice he’d done it. You seemed a little smaller in this universe. Miguel wondered if it was because you were actually shorter, or if the fact that you were younger made it seem to be the case.

“I don’t understand why I got such a bad grade, Dr. O’Hara,” you turned to face him, failed test in hand, eyes already glistening wet with the threat of tears. “I worked really hard after you helped me understand it better.”

Fuck, he thought. His cock was already springing to life, slowly making his pants feel tighter while he looked at you. This was new territory that he didn’t know how to navigate. This wasn’t the type of person Miguel wanted to be, but he also wanted to start establishing his control over you now. If he could control you, he could keep you safe; he could have you.

“Yeah well, as you can see…” he snatched the test from your hand, “you didn’t do a very good job, did you?”

Something was different about Dr. O’Hara, you felt it as he ripped the paper from your hands. He was normally a very calm and collected type of professor, everyone loved him for that. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so harshly now. You clutched your book bag closer to yourself as though it would teleport you out of the room. He took a step closer, and you stepped back until your rear was against his desk. You felt trapped.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he said, seeing the terror in your expression. Miguel’s intention wasn’t to make you fear him, but at the same time, he was willing to do what it took to make you listen for once, since your alternates didn’t seem to pay his warnings any mind. “Look, I’d be willing to…fix your grade.”

He’d hoped that when he said it like that you would get the hint so he didn’t have to spell it out for you. Surely you’d seen enough pornos to know where this was going, right? It would make it less guilt inducing for him, and a lot less scary for you, at least that’s what he was thinking. 

“Fix it how? Is there extra credit?” You decided to continue on like you didn’t know what he was playing at.

“You could say that,” he said, taking another step toward you.

There was no way he meant what you thought he meant. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating that you were supposed to fuck your way into a better grade could he? That was just a stupid joke you and your friends had laughed about, albeit frequently, but it was just a joke. He couldn’t be serious.

You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down to his tight-fit slacks and the way they were especially tight around his groin. You gulped, looking back up at his eyes quickly, trying to appear not to have seen anything. Maybe if you kept your eyes anywhere but on his bulge it would go away, and he would let this go.

But you wouldn’t be so lucky.

Miguel took another step forward, bringing a hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your skin gently. He smirked, feeling satisfied to touch you again. Spending all the time in the last universe, he’d almost forgotten what you felt like.

“I’m not going to hurt you, and if you just listen to me you might even enjoy yourself.”

No matter how much you told yourself to run, to kick, to scream, you just stood there while Dr. O’Hara leaned forward, claiming your mouth in his and melting into you. He lifted you onto the desk like you were weightless, pushing himself against you until he was almost laying on top of you. You kissed him back, but the rest of you was frozen, unsure how to respond. Should you even be allowing this to happen, or should you be trying to stop him?

What would you do anyway? Fight him off? The man was built like a damn tank. You could work out for a hundred years and still never come close to moving him. On the bright side, you would probably pass your class, though this wasn’t how you wanted to do it. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.

“P-please, Dr. O’Hara, s-stop–”

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing you deeper, “you want me to fix your grade right? You want to pass this class? Hm?”

He looked down at you, waiting for your answer, the guilt still nagging at him as he noticed a stray tear fall down the side of your face.

You nodded. “Y-yes, yes I do.”

“Then be quiet, and do what I say,” he demanded, sliding a massive hand up your skirt, his fingers teasing at the hem of your panties.

Your mind was racing with feelings you could hardly comprehend. On one hand, your body was tingling an overwhelming desire, a need to feel his touch in the most intimate way. His thick index finger tucked into the leg of your panties, knuckles sliding softly over your pussy lips. When he kissed you it didn’t feel like a dirty professor trying to take advantage, but rather a lover who wanted to take his time with you.

On the other hand, he was much older than you, and he was your professor. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t really interested in sleeping with him, despite the teasing from you and your friends.

That didn’t seem to matter now, he was pulling your underwear down your thighs and tossing them to the floor. He rubbed the pads of his index and middle fingers over your clit, forcing a choked whimper to escape your lungs. You thought about protesting his actions again, but decided against it. You didn’t want to piss him off, and you didn’t want to fail the class.

“There you go, honey,” he whispered against your lips, “don’t squirm too much okay? You’ll like it, I know you will.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to say otherwise. Dr. O’Hara pushed you down so your back was flat against the desk, his large hand pressed against your abdomen while his other started to undo his pants. You didn’t even want to look at it, so you stared out the window and kept your eyes trained on the gate at the entrance to the college campus. He exhaled a low and deep breath as he dragged the tip of his cock along your folds.

“Look at me, hermosa,” his voice was low, but still demanding.

You complied, turning your head slowly to look at him. Miguel tried to convince himself that you would come around, that you were just nervous for your first time together. He wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t delusional either, but he needed to believe that you would come around, because working with the you that was right in front of him was better than the unknown of whatever versions he may encounter in other universes. ‘The devil you know’, and all that.

“Hold on tight, honey,” he warned, sliding his dick through your slick entrance. He couldn’t even make it halfway in before it was too tight. “F-fuck baby…shit.”

You cried out, all of your resolve falling to the wayside. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad.

“Dr. O’Hara pleas–”

Before you could even finish your plea his hand was covering your mouth. He shook his head, eyes narrowing dangerously in warning. You tried to beg with your eyes, your small sobs blocked by the brick wall of his palm only serving to make his cock throb inside your cunt. You grabbed onto his forearm, gripping it so tight your nails dug into his skin, but it may as well have been a pillar, unmoving and sturdy while he kept your mouth covered.

“Honey, please,” he hissed, his breaths of arousal interrupting his irritated tone. “I know it’s painful now but if you just relax, I’ll stretch you out so it won’t hurt anymore alright?”

You didn’t respond, and Miguel felt the guilt in his chest. The guilt didn’t outweigh the delicious feeling of your hole squeezing around the mere three inches he’d managed to get inside. He slid forward a little more, your eyes rolled back in response, your breaths turned into labored panting while you took him further.

“You’re doing great, hermosa,” he encouraged, “taking me so well.”

Your legs tightened around his waist as your cunt stretched even wider around him. He was bigger than anything you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t get free from him. Finally he bottomed out inside you, when you looked down at where you were connected you could see a bulge in your abdomen. Your eyes widened in fear, as though seeing it made it feel that much bigger.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he cooed, rolling his hips back and then snapping forward again, forcing a guttural groan to erupt from deep within you. “That’s it, fuck, so tight-that’s-it.”

Miguel established a steady rhythm that was made easier by how wet your little hole got. At least you’re physically enjoying yourself, he thought to himself, still trying to ease the guilt brewing inside him. His free hand grabbed onto your thigh, leveraging himself even deeper. The sight of his fat cock bulging up through your stomach made him harder, if that were even possible. He thought, for only a second, about the fact that you might not be on birth control, but then decided he didn’t really give a shit.

Your makeup was ruined, black rivers running down your cheeks while you cried even harder. When Miguel looked down at where your pussy was split around his dick he could see why, you’d made a bloody mess between both your bodies. He questioned why he thought that was hot. Causing you pain shouldn’t feel that good, but it did, the sight of your blood making his pace even faster.

“Didn’t know you had such a little pussy,” he breathed between thrusts, “so tight, so-wet-fuck.”

When Miguel thought about it, the two of you - himself and you from the original universe -, never got that rough. It wasn’t something he knew he would like, having power over you like that, causing you pain and listening to your cries. Hearing you whimper now though, laying on his desk with your legs wrapped around him while he split you open, was making him feral. If making you cry was bad, then why the hell did it feel so fucking good?

“Are you going to come for me, honey?” He asked in a low whisper.

You didn’t answer, you just kept your eyes on his, a silent prayer that he would stop. He couldn’t stop now though, he was so damn close.

“Next time m-maybe, holy-shit-fuck-fuck-FUCK!”

His hips snapped forward, stuttering and halting against yours. You felt the searing hot ropes of his spend while it spilled inside your walls, cock throbbing and stretching you further with every spurt. His breathing was deep, low, and you guessed that if he weren’t afraid of being caught he would be much more vocal. He tossed his head back, using the hand that was on your hip to push his hair from where it fell into his eyes.

Once he was finished, Miguel released your mouth, the post-orgasm clarity making his guilt take over tenfold.

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling out of you, the sudden feeling forcing a quiet cry from your swollen, trembling lips.

You didn’t speak. Now that he was finished you didn’t have words to say. What could you say? ‘You’re a monster’? ‘How could you do this to me’? ‘Why would you do this to me’? None of his answers would matter, and part of you still wondered if you’d asked for it some way. What else did you think your professor wanted you to come into his office for after all the classes had ended for the day? The red flags had been waving in your face and you ignored them. Maybe, somewhere deep down, you wanted this all along.

—

“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from Miguel’s stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”

—

Miguel shot up in bed, quickly realizing that he was dreaming, the reminder of that day still so fucking clear in his mind.

He looked at the calendar sitting above the coffee maker in his apartment. Well, his apartment. It had already been four long weeks that he’d spent in that universe trying desperately to get you to like him. He could tell by the look on your face though that you were still terrified of him. 

He wondered if he should just leave, call it quits for this universe and move on to the next one. Miguel couldn’t shake the probability that something might be worse in the next universe though. What if he traveled there only to find that you were already dead? What if the next ten universes took him years to get through and eventually he was too old to keep looking for you? No matter how he looked at it, logically speaking, it was still better to try and work with the you in front of him, than to risk the unknown.

You couldn’t put into words the way you felt when you saw Dr. O’Hara every week in your physics class. You started sitting toward the back, hoping some other girl might grab his attention instead, but it never worked. He continued to summon you to his office in the late evenings, and he continued to fuck you until you could barely walk your way out of his office.

He terrified you.

And that terrified him.

“Dr. O’Hara,” the head of student affairs walked into Miguel’s office, pushing the already ajar door open and stepping inside.

“Oh, hi, Janice,” Miguel said, feeling his body become tense.

You better not have opened your fucking mouth, he thought.

“One of your students…” your name coming out of her mouth made him start to sweat, “...came to me and said she would like to drop out and take this class another semester. She said it doesn’t fit into her schedule right now so we need you to sign–”

“Halfway through the semester?” He asked, tone sharper than he intended. “No. She’s doing so well it would be a mistake.”

“It’s not really up to–”

“What’s the cutoff date for this kind of thing? Isn’t there always a cutoff date?”

“This Thursday is the–”

“No.”

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“Let me talk to her.”

The woman sighed, handing him the paper, “I think it’s a mistake too, for the record. It would be a shame to have to do all that work all over again.”

The woman left, the sound of her clicking heels fading as she walked down the hall. Miguel looked at the sheet of paper, hands shaking as he looked down at your signature. There it was. The same signature on your fucking marriage certificate, right there, telling him that you’d had enough and wanted to leave him. 

He slammed his office door and walked over to his bag, the one where he kept your wedding photo. He hadn’t looked at it much since he’d left the original universe. The image of the two of you together brought him nothing but pain. He wanted you back so badly he was willing to rape a poor college girl that looked just like you in order to live in a fantasy that, deep down, he knew would never really hold a candle to the reality he once had.

Looking back he remembered the day of your wedding, the way you looked took his breath away. He was still mad that the therapist hadn’t worked out, if only she’d listened. Even the barista wasn’t too bad. She was a bit mouthy, but…no, he couldn’t stand the damn barista. She was a lost cause the moment she broke up with him.

Something told him that this version of you, the student, wasn’t going to work out from the beginning. He wanted it so badly though. When he tried to imagine a world where he could be happy with that version of you, he couldn’t. Even in the event he was able to convince you to marry him, or hell, even go on a date with him, he knew it would be all done in fear. You’d never look at him the way you did. 

You would never love him.

You startled him when you opened the door to his office unannounced. You could tell because he scrambled to put something into his bag as you entered. His gaze was still so harsh, and you thought maybe you shouldn’t have come at all, but you were afraid your consequences would be harsher if you ignored his long standing request to meet him in the office during the evenings. You closed the door behind yourself, knowing that he would probably do it anyway if you didn’t do it yourself. 

This is the last time, you thought. You do this one more time and then you’re done.

You hoped that by giving him what he so clearly wanted from you one last time, and perhaps being mature about it, you could convince him to let you go.

“D-Dr. O’Hara I–”

“You’re trying to drop out of my fucking class?” He snapped, eyes shooting spears through you.

You gulped, stepping toward the door, immediately regretting closing it behind yourself.

“W-well yes but I came to, um…well I thought we could–”

“Thought we could what?” He asked, standing quickly.

Regardless if you’d never love him, he was going to have to work with what he had, and right now he had a crying twenty something in front of him who was willing to do anything he said.

“We can do it just one more time and then I want to leave your class,” you whispered.

Dr. O’Hara strode over to you slowly, each step a booming quake that tore through what little determination you’d had when walking in there. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, leaning forward so his lips were against your ear. You hated that your body had become conditioned to react pleasantly to his touch, a tingling sensation spreading down to your core.

“What did you say?” He hissed against your ear.

You couldn’t speak. You wanted to repeat yourself. You wanted to convince him that this was what was best for both of you since getting caught would surely end his career. No matter how much you willed yourself to speak though, not a fucking word came out. The only sound you made was a pathetic whimper, a dumb little sound that you knew he liked; he always moaned whenever you made it. 

“That’s what I thought, hermosa,” he whispered, “you can come back to my office tonight, and I’ll take good care of you like I always do, hm?”

He let go of you and stepped back, eyes scanning over your body and taking it all in as he had so many times before.

“Well, I-I can’t come tonight,” you admitted hastily, as though you might choke on the words if you didn’t spit them out.

“Why?” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes snapped to yours.

“Well my friends and I were going out tonight and–”

“No,” he said firmly, “you’re coming back here.”

Perhaps he’d said it too harshly, but knowing that there was a good possibility that this was the night of your death, your ‘canon event’ as he’d taken to calling it, he couldn’t risk you leaving his sight.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the dark glare in his eye told you that arguing was futile. It was clear that whatever this had started as, an exploitative endeavor, had turned into some sort of obsession that you weren’t going to be able to get out of easily.

“Please,” you mouthed, keeping your eyes on the floor.

He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so much guilt. Could he really keep this up? Would he really be able to spend the rest of both your lives looking into your fearful eyes and convince himself that it was alright? As long as he had you it didn’t matter if you were a little afraid…right?

“I know this is hard for you to understand, so I’ll make it simple for you,” he moved to grab you, but you slipped under his arm and started backing away.

“Stop doing this, please,” you were trying to get away from him now, another sign that this was probably a dead-end universe for him.

Miguel couldn’t imagine much worse than you being dead, but you feeling so afraid of him that you died trying to get away from him was right up there. He wondered if closing his oversized office window would’ve still resulted in your demise that night.

“Honey, I’m sorry, if you can just come here and have a seat we can talk–”

“No!” You yelled, continuing to back up, the open window at your back.

Miguel took a step forward.

“I’m not going to hurt you, let’s just–”

“You already did!” Your lips were trembling, your whole body was tense, “Stay away from me!”

“Mi vida, please!”

He watched you hit the low-sitting window sill. The school would get sued, no doubt, for not putting a screen, or at least some form of safety precaution, in place to prevent your fall from three stories up. He looked over the window sill, watching the blood spread from your body outward, covering the pavement below.

Miguel genuinely felt bad. He didn’t know if it was because he felt like he was losing you again. No, this wasn’t really like losing you. This felt more like guilt around causing the death of some college student who happened to look almost exactly like you, but she wasn’t really you.

In all honesty, appearance was the only thing this girl had in common with you. So Miguel wouldn’t shed a tear for her, though he would hold on to the turmoil he’d caused you in that universe for a while. He’d wear it with him to the next one, like a pin he’d collected as a souvenir. That thought actually made him laugh. It was the laugh of a man gone mad, but a laugh nonetheless.

Maybe by the end of his journey he’d have a whole stash of pins. Perhaps he’d be so weighed down by them that he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. It was entirely possible that a suitable replacement didn’t exist, and that maybe he’d never find the perfect one.

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Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[wandafiction]

Supportive Friend

Warnings: G!P Reader, WandaNat X Reader (Platonic), Description of Injury, Bullying, Self depreciation, Panicked Peter Parker, Best Friend Peter Parker, Angst, Fluff and Humour.

"Miss Wanda! Miss Natasha!" Peter runs through the halls of the compound stopping at every door to open it, taking a look in trying to find the couple. He didn't care if he interrupted importing meetings or not, what was important is he found the two of them. 

"Miss Wanda! Miss Natasha!" He slides along the shared kitchen floor, catching himself on the counter to stop himself finally having found the two of them. Natasha was standing behind Wanda with her arms wrapped around her waist while the Sokovian cooked for the two of them. 

"What's wrong Pete?" Natasha removes herself from Wanda, quietly making her way in front of Peter who is waving his hands frantically as he tries and regulates his breathing. 

"Pete, I need you to breathe and tell me what's going on bud." Wanda had moved the pan she was using onto a different hob, turning the cooker off as she gently cups the boy's cheeks to get him to look at her. "In and out Pete. What's got you in such a panic?" 

"It's….it's...I…." Peter is sucking in harsh breaths working himself up as he tries to tell the two women what's going on. "It's Y/n." 

"What about Y/n?" Natasha and Wanda are both as concerned as each other, never seeing Peter as panicked as this and it having something to do with you made them panic. 

"She….help…" Peter couldn't say anything more, instead choosing to grab the women's hands and start leading them to his room. 

The moment the door opens they both gasp at the sight of your bloody and beaten face, struggling to take your own top off. Wincing with every little movement you made. The sound of the door hitting the wall makes you jump, moving further away from where the sound came from as your eyes close tightly shut cowering away from the people who have just entered. 

"She won't let me help." Peter looks down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers. "Can you please help her?" 

"Of course we can Pete." Wanda places her hands on the boy's shoulders gently guiding him out of the room as Natasha stays frozen to the spot, her eyes glossing over at the sight of you in front of her. 

"Please help her Miss Wanda." Wanda nods quickly, bringing a hand up to cup the boy's face. 

"We will, I promise but I need to know what happened." Wanda's voice is gentle with no sign of anger towards Peter and he visibly relaxes when he realises he is not in trouble. 

"She...she. Flash was being flash and had stolen some of my worksheets. You see I do some of my work for my spidey suit at school, I have permission from Mr Stark to take the work with me, and flash ripped it from my hands at lunch and ripped it up. Y/n, she, uh, she pushed him and told him to pick on someone his own size. I mean she isn't that much taller than me so that sentence doesn't actually mean anything."

"Peter, you're rambling." Wanda smiles a little knowing that Peter can ramble for days if you don't stop him. 

"Sorry Miss Wanda." He bows his head, but Wanda pulls him into a hug knowing he most definitely needs one. 

"So tell me again. What happened?" 

"She pushed him. He, uh fell, but he was quick to get back up and try to hit her. Of course no one knows she is an avenger so when she caught his fist it made him even more angry. She shoved him back down, grabbed my hand and led me out of the cafeteria. I thought that was the end of it. But after our last class today when we were just about to walk down the stairs, Flash came running up behind us and pushed her. She fell down the stairs Miss Wanda. She hit the wall a few times and the metal of the bannister. She hit the ground hard, Flash took advantage and got a few kicks to her face and stomach, shouting about how she had embarrassed him in front of everyone. She just let him hit her, she didn’t even try to fight back and me and some other students had to pull him off of her. I had to get MJ and Ned to help me bring her to the car, she could hardly hold up her own body weight. I, I, there was so much blood from her nose Mr Stark is going to kill me. It's all over the back seat." 

"No he won't. You were helping a friend. Thank you Pete. Why don't you head to her room and get yourself cleaned up. I will come and get you when we are done here." Peter nods quickly before looking up at Wanda with fresh tears in his eyes. 

"She would let us help. We got her to the car but as soon as we went to see her injuries she pushed us away. Why won't she let me help her, Miss Wanda?" Wanda looks down at the boy sympathetically.

"I can't answer that one for you Pete. Maybe you need to have a chat with her once she is all healed." He nods before quickly giving Wanda another hug before walking away and heading to Y/n's room, while Wanda re enters Peter's room closing and locking the door behind her. 

"I've got you, arms up slowly for me." Wanda turns to see Natasha helping to take your top off for you. Your eyes are closed as you slowly lift your arms just above your head as Natasha’s hands guide the thin shirt off your body, chucking it to the floor behind her but deciding to keep your sports bra on.

"Hurts." Your voice cracks as your leg bounces up and down trying to distract yourself from the pain, as Natasha’s fingers trace the cuts and bruises on your face before moving down to your torso.

"I know honey, I know but I've got  your top off now we can assess your injuries." Natasha turns her head to look at Wanda with worry filling her features. “Can you sit behind her Wanda, to support her while I do this?”

“Mhmm.” Wanda slowly moves into the bed, sitting herself behind you, sitting on her calves as she gently pulls your body back to rest against hers. Her arms rubbing up and down your arms to try and give you any form of comfort. “She fell down the stairs Tasha.”

“Okay. uhm.” Natasha clears her throat trying to stop herself from crying when she places her hand on your bruised ribs and sees your body flinching away from her. “Honey, I'm going to have to take your pants off too, so I can see if there are any injuries to your legs. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” It comes out as a whisper as you turn your head to hide it in the crook of Wanda’s neck as Natsha slowly and with all the care in the world takes your pants off for you. 

“Oh, honey.” Wanda takes a quick glance down to your body and legs, a few tears building in her eyes when she sees the multitude of bruises on your ribs, stomach and legs. “Okay, I don't see any deep cuts, just a lot of bruising. I'm going to use some cream that will help with the swelling and bruising okay?”

"Nice boxers." You laugh as Wanda points out what's printed on your boxer, wincing slightly as you laugh.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts. I'm just trying to be a supportive friend." You shrug as Wanda giggles. 

"Well I'm sure Peter would be flattered to know you wear spiderman boxers." You huff out a small laugh before looking at the older woman behind you.

“I'm sorry, I just got so mad.” You choke out as you finally let the sob you have been holding back escape.

“Oh sweet girl you have nothing to be sorry for.” Wanda wraps her arms around your shoulders, making sure to avoid any bruises as she gently pulls your body closer to hers. 

“I shouldn’t have pushed him. You told me to never let my anger get the better of me, and I did. I’m sorry Wanda.” Wanda shakes her head lightly bringing her hand to your face to tilt your head to look at her, as Natasha leaves the room to grab what she needs.

“Sweet girl, you were defending your friend. You did nothing wrong. We are not mad at you, we just hate seeing you get hurt. Peter is really worried about you, and I'm sure MJ and Ned are too. He said you didn't let them help.” You shake your head biting at your lip. “You’ve not told them.”

“No. They will think I'm a freak and then I will have no one left and I will be all alone. It’s better that they don’t know. They would hate me.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, you are not a freak. You are unique, it makes you a 1 in a million and there is nothing wrong with it. If you don’t want to tell him that's fine, but I don't think he will hate you. I don’t think any of them will.” You snuggle into Wanda more, the older Sokovian being like an older sister to you from the moment you joined the avengers a few years ago after Natasha had rescued you from the red room with Yelena’s help.

You remember the day she found out about you being intersex. You had been changing after just getting out of the shower trying to relax after a training session. Usually you are more careful about changing, making sure to get a private cubicle. But on this one day all of the cubicles were taken, and you thought if you were quick enough no one would walk in while getting changed in the public changing room. Well you were wrong because the moment you pulled your boxers down Wanda came strolling into the room with her gym bag slung over her shoulder. 

You weren’t quick enough to grab your towel and put it in front of you, and when you heard Wanda’s bag drop to the floor and her apologise over and over again for walking in without making sure no one was already in the changing room. It wasn’t that Wanda cared if people got changed in front of her, that's why there were a few different changing rooms so people could decide where to get changed. It was more the fact she knew you used the private ones and she had now discovered the reason why. What surprised Wanda the most was the way you had managed to quickly get changed, the only indicator it was safe for there to turn around was when you walked past her muttering an apology. 

You avoided Wanda like the plague after the incident, fully expecting her to turn around and call you a freak and every other name under the sun. whenever she entered a room, you left, whenever she tried talking to you during team bonding you kept your answers short and avoided eye contact. It got so bad that she stopped trying to talk to you and assumed that because she had walked in on you, that you found a disliking for her. 

You felt bad because you and Wanda had become so close. The incident happened only 6 months after joining the Avengers programme, Natasha having helped you get settled. It was never a secret that you and Natasha were like siblings, and that you only ever felt comfortable doing anything during team bonding with her. It was also not a secret that her and Wanda were a couple. When it wasn't you snuggled into Natasha it was Wanda. You and Wanda had talked a couple of times here and there but nothing more than small talk. 

Until one night you had a nightmare. You went straight to Natasha's room, knocking softly as you held in a sob but allowed the tears to flow. When Wanda was the one to answer the door you wiped your tears away trying to pretend nothing was wrong but of course she had caught you crying. She let you know Natasha had been called on an emergency mission but you were more than welcome to come in. It took you a few seconds to step into the room, and when you did you broke down the nightmare replaying over and over again. Wanda pulled you into a tight embrace, moving the both of you over to the bed where she lowered you both into. She held you, sang sokovian lullabies to you until you fell asleep. She stayed up to make sure you were okay. 

And now she was your other sister, just like Natasha. You didn't trust anyone more than them. They were your people.

So when you started avoiding Wanda, they both noticed.

It wasn’t until you were pinned against the wall by her girlfriend, the one and only and highly terrifying black widow that you revealed the truth. Natasha knew of your not so little friend, having many a mission with you where you had to be patched up and you only trusted her to do so. So when you told her that you didn’t want Wanda to think of you as a freak, she hit you around the back of the head calling you an idiot, dragged you down to her and Wanda’s shared room and locked the both of you in until you talked it out. 

“Your thoughts are loud sweet girl.” You giggle into Wanda’s shoulders with a shrug.

“Sorry. You really think Peter will be okay with it if I tell him.”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself.” You sit up straight, the sudden movement causing you to hiss in pain as you bring your hands to your ribs, your eyes looking in the doorway where you see Natasha standing with a very timid Peter. He has his hands over his eyes and his back turned to you.

“Peter, you can look. I'm still in my bra and underwear.” He turns around peeking through the gaps in his fingers letting out a breath when he sees you telling the truth. You and Peter had become quite comfortable with one another, you usually training in a sports bra and leggings so it isn’t anything new to the two of you. Apart from the fact he had never seen you without pants or some form of legging his eyes travel down a quick second, before quickly flicking up to look you in the eye.

“How are you feeling honey?” Natasha was the first one to break the silence that had taken over the room, you giving her a tight lipped smile and a small nod in reply. She waves the cream in her hand as she walks towards you. “Do you want me to do it, or have you got it?”

“Pete.” Your voice is quiet but your friend takes a step forward. “Can you do it? And I will explain everything as you do?”

“Yes, of course. Uhm, only if you're sure.” he takes a step towards you fiddling with his fingers.

“I wouldn't have asked if I wasnt.” he quickly nods giving a small thanks to Natasha when she hands the cream off.

“Get Friday to come and get us if you need anything okay.” Wanda stands up, joining Natasha’s side as they both prepare to leave you and Peter to talk.

“I will. Thank you, both of you.”

“Yes thank you Miss Wanda and you Miss Natasha. I didn’t know who else to go to.” He rubs the back of his head nervously as you let out a small giggle.

“How many times have they told you Pete to just call them Wanda and Nat.” he quickly nods, giving the two women a shy smile.

“Right, sorry. Thank you Miss, uh, Wanda and Nat.” They both giggle before turning to you in silent question and when you give them a small nod they turn to make their way out of the room closing the door behind them.

They stay at the door for a few seconds to make sure you are both going to be okay, both of them laughing when they hear Peter’s voice go up in pitch when he asks you why you have his Spider-man Boxers on.

“They’re comfy. And they’re mine not yours.” Wanda and Nat decide they don’t need to be there anymore, leaving the two of you to talk as they head down the hallway to the shared kitchen to finish making the food that had long been forgotten. 

“You have a what?!” Is the last thing they hear echoing down the hallway both with silly smiles on their faces. 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

[dearstvckyx]

brother!hughes when their sister gets injured during her sport (tw: mentions of Hospital, Broken Bone, Blood, Surgery)

Quinn Hughes sport: Volleyball injury: sprained wrist

- Quinn would immediately try to get on the court to be at his sister's side, the concern etched on his face. He'd watch as the coach & medical examine her wrist, and after seeing the pain on his little sisters face Quinn finally forces his way on to the court with the rest of the Hughes family in tow.

- Quinn would sit with his sister in the emergency room and would be trying to comfort her.

- And as a professional athlete, Quinn would understand the physical and emotional impact of an injury on his sister. Mentally he’s praying to whoever is there that his sister’s injury is not career ending.

- After waiting a few hours, it is confirmed that Quinns sister has only just sprained her wrist. Relived that it’s nothing serious Quinn hugs his sister and whispers to her, “told you, you’d be okay”

- And even though his sister can still use her right hand/arm Quinn, being the older sibling he is, makes sure that he never has to lift a finger while recovering.

Jack Hughes sport: basketball injury: torn acl

- Jack would immediately rush to his sister's side as soon as he sees the injury occur and the scream/cry his little sister let out.

- He would be visibly worried, but trying not to show it to not worry his baby sister.

- He would reassure her that she’ll be okay. Jack would be the one to ride with her to the hospital with their family following in Quinns car behind the ambulance.

- When the dr tells the Hughes family what is going on with the 2nd youngest Hughes and what her injury exactly is.

- Upon hearing this Jack would instantly grab his sister hand at the same time trying to calm her breathing.

- Jack, being the most energetic Hughes Kid that he is, is hyping his little sister up before her surgey.

- After surgery and after being cleared to go home, Jack would attend her follow-up appointments, keen to understand the process of her recovery.

- He would make a point to spend more time with her during her recovery, using it as a chance to bond and keep her spirits high.

- He is also there when she makes her return to playing for UMICH. Jack is definitely the main person cheering for her.

Luke Hughes sport: soccer injury: broken nose

- Luke would initially be in shock, everything slowing down as he watched his sister fall to the ground with a bleeding nose.

- He would quickly snap out of it and rush onto the field, pushing through everyone. His closest friends (Ethan, Dylan and Jacob) following behind him.

- As soon as Luke gets into the front of the crowd, he takes in the severity of the injury. His little sister, on her knees, head in her hands, blood all over her jersey and shorts as well as in her hands and over her face.

- Luke has never seen so much blood before and was in shocked. And as soon and he hears a scream cry from his sister, Luke is on his knees by her side rubbing her back and trying to calm her down

- Himself and Ethan would help her get back to her feet and walk her into the locker room where medics are waiting for her.

- He'd try to continue comforting her in his awkward yet sincere way, assuring her that she’ll be okay. Thanks to help of Dylan And Jacob words, she slowly calms down.

- The lead medic would let everyone know that he can break her nose back into place but it will bleed more and she would have to go to the emergency room.

- He'd ask Ethan to call his parents and Dylan to call their brothers, as they are all in New Jersey waiting for the Hughes bowl. And of course both boys are already on the phone with them.

- In the hospital, Luke would be pacing outside the examination room, unable to sit still, wishing he could be in there after his sisters sniffles.

- Once everything has settled down, he'd be extra protective of his sister, making sure she's comfortable and has everything she needs. He’d immediately face time their parents, talking to them and letting them know that the youngest Hughes is okay.

- Even some Devils & Canucks players showing up and say Hi or “Hope you feel better”

The Masterlist Here

[emocowboylvr]

can you write a Carl grimes x reader where reader is Rosita’s sister and she’s protective but still lets them hang out. And it’s during the time her and Abraham are going through a rough patch and we get a little bit of sister comforting sister? Please and thank you!

Carl Grimes X Rosita's Sister

Hi!! Thank you for requesting this, it was a beautiful idea. I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you imagined, I kinda splurged and got dramatic with it. (Sorry that it's so long btw.)

You grabbed your boots and sat on your bed, propping your feet up on the ledge so that you could tie your shoes. A familiar knock sounded on your wooden door and before you could answer, Rosita cracked the door open slightly and poked her head through the gap. Being the only blood-related family that you had left, you and your sister were pretty close, even though you were only a teenager, and she was in her early twenties.

“Whatcha doin.” She sang. “Putting on my shoes.” You answered, matching her lively tune. She opened the door a little more, stepping into the room. The sound of her combat boots were loud against the wooden planks as she walked slowly, leaning against the bed beside you.

“So where are you going?” She raised her eyebrows. “Just with Carl.” You smiled, tightening the knot and dropping both feet back to the ground.“Again?” She questioned.

You had already gone outside to walk with Carl when he took Judith on their daily stroll, but the both of you had nothing to do so you agreed to meet up again later in the day. It was about 6 pm and the sun was beginning to set.

You nodded. “Something wrong with that?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I guess not.” She responded. “You guess?” “Hey, all I’m saying is that you should be careful.”

You wanted to ask her what she meant by “careful”, but you already knew. She was afraid that Carl was going to hurt you like Abraham did to her. You understood her concern, but it frustrated you that she would assume something like that from Carl.

Rosita has been extremely protective of you and your relationship with Carl ever since her breakup with Abraham. It seems almost as if she’s wanted you to distance yourself from him. She’s done subtle things and made simple remarks that made you question your relationship and how truthful Carl was being, even though you previously were very confident in it.

You rolled your eyes. “Careful? Yeah sure. I’ll be careful.” You scoffed. “I’m serious.” She stood up. “You’re young, and” She paused. “I know how much you care about him. I think you should take a step back.” She added. “A step back? For what” You sighed. “Believe it or not, he cares about me as well.” You added. “That’s what I thought too.” She mumbled to herself, not quite meaning for you to hear.

You raised your eyebrows, shooting her a dirty look. “Don’t compare our situations!” You raised your voice. “I’m just looking out for you!” She matches your tone. “Abraham and Carl are NOT the same!” You yelled at her. “You don’t know that.”

“Ugh!” you grabbed your jacket, throwing it on, and storming out of the house. Slamming the front door shut behind you. The cold air hit you hard as you fumbled with the zipper. You shoved your hands in your pockets and walked down the street, your anger, very visible on your face.

You couldn’t help but think back to when you found your sister on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. Her breath was ragged and the collar of her shirt was soaked with tears that had fallen all the way down from her face. You had heard the yelling from your room, and went to check up on her. Abraham stormed by you with a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder when you walked into the room. You couldn’t get her to lift her face from her hands or tell you what happened. The most you could do was sit by her and hold her as she cried.

You knew she was looking out for you. You knew that she didn’t mean any harm. It scared her, and the fact that she was scared, scared you. Not only were you afraid, but you were also mad. Mad at Abraham for hurting your sister, mad at Rosita for everything she’s said and done, and mad at Carl, because maybe, just maybe all of those negative thoughts that raced through your mind, were true.

So lost in your own mind, you forgot where you were headed, still walking furiously. It was a hand on your shoulder that snapped you out of your train of thought. “Where are you going?”

You turned around, only to be met with a face that you forget you were coming to see, your boyfriend. You didn’t respond. Carl looked back at you, clearly bothered by your expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. His hand still holding your shoulder. You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, not knowing what to say. You wanted to be mad but his gentle and calm nature towards you made you feel bad.

“I think I’m just going to go home.” You broke eye contact with him. “It’s cold out anyway.” You added, blaming it on the weather.

“You’re mad” He states with no question. You didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m fine, it’s fine.” You pulled your shoulder back, forcing Carl to take his hand off. You turned around and walked away, deciding that it would be better if you didn't look at him, that way you didn’t cave and spew all of your emotions out at once.

You tried to get away, but of course, Carl persisted. “Hey, where are you going? I’m trying to talk to you, don’t walk away from me.” He called out to you, following closely behind. You were overthinking too much to talk right now. It would only make matters worse. Of course he couldn’t understand that though.

“Carl, just let me be. I don’t want to talk right now.” You continued to walk, slightly quickening your pace, hoping that he would give up. He stayed close behind you, picking up speed as well. “What did I do? Why are you mad at me?” He questioned. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything.” You answered with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

You couldn’t stay quiet anymore. “I can’t hang out with you so much.” You turned around, facing him. He stopped in front of you before furrowing his eyebrows. “What, why?” He questioned. “Maybe I need to take a step back.” You copied Rosita’s words, even though you didn’t really want to. “Why would you do that?” His expression twisted into a very confused one. “What happened? We’ve been together so much. I mean, it was your idea to hang out this afternoon in the first place.” He raised his voice.

He was right. You knew he was, but Rosita’s words were getting in your head. Your mind was all over the place and you didn’t know how to please everyone all at once. You were staring to do exactly what you tried not to. Carl was raising his voice at you, Rosita was mad, and you were overthinking anything and everything. Your emotions were becoming overwhelming and you could feel your eyes began to water.

“Nothing happened Carl. Maybe this just isn't working” You matched his tone. “What isn’t working?” He responded, worry filling his voice. “ I don’t know Carl.” You tried to walk away again. “What’s not working!?” He yelled. Anger filled your voice and tears filled your eyes. “Maybe we shouldn’t be together!” He looked at you, stunned, and when you felt the tears falling down your face, you turned away from him, running up the front porch steps. He followed after you, calling out your name, but you slammed the door in his face, leaving him standing on the front porch alone.

You sat on the couch, burying you face in your hands as you cried. As soon as you sat down and took time to get your thoughts together, you realized that breaking up with Carl was not what you wanted at all, matter of fact, it was the least of things you wanted. You felt so bad, but you knew it was too late to take it back.

“Hey” You looked up to see Rosita, standing in the hallway leaned against the wall. “I don’t want to hear it.” You said, not quite ready the hear the ‘I told you so’ lecture. “You were right. I’m sorry.” She said. “What?” You looked up at her, not expecting her response. She walked towards you, sitting beside you on the couch. “I heard it all. Why did you do that?” She asked. “How did you hear?” You asked. “My window’s open”

“Why’d you break up with him?” She asked again. You had to think about it. “ I don’t even know, I guess I was scared.” You answered truthfully. “Scared?” She questioned. “Everything you said went straight to my head and my emotions got the best of me.” This was all true. You didn’t want to end things with your boyfriend. You wiped your tears from your face and she placed a comforting hand on your back.

“Look.” She said. “I’m sorry, and I was wrong. I don’t want you to get hurt like I did. I don’t want to see you in the same situation, but after what happened just now, I don’t know. I saw how Carl could immediately sense how you were feeling and see through your lies. I saw how upset he was when you said you shouldn’t be together. I can see the love he has for you. It’s different. Abraham never really treated me like that. Not even when it was only us and Eugene.”

You looked up at her. “I’m grateful that you have a guy like Carl.” You sniffled. “Yeah. He is pretty nice isn’t he?” You laughed a little. “I didn't mean what I said to him.” You told her. “I know you didn’t, but he doesn’t know that. I’m sure he’s hurting right now.” You nodded. “I know, I feel horrible, but I don’t know how to apologize.” You said.

“If you love him, you’ll figure it out.” She responded. “You’re right.” “Go talk to him.” You nodded. She held her hands out to you and you embraced her in a hug. You held each other tightly for at least 20 seconds before you let go to get up.

You walked towards the door and took a breath before opening it and stepping out. To your surprise, Carl hadn’t left your front porch. He was sitting on the stairs. His head was in his hands and his elbows were propped up on his knees.

“Carl?” You said, as you shut the door softly behind you. He looked back at you, but didn’t say anything. You took a couple of steps towards him. “Can we talk?” You asked sincerely. He nodded. You sat down on the stairs beside him and looked up at the sky. It was dark at this point.

“I don’t want to break up with you.” You said, looking at the moon. “Then why’d you do it? I don’t understand what I did wrong.” He asked, turning his head to face you. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn't do anything.” You said, locking eyes with him. “Then why?”

You took a breath in. “What happened with Rosita and Abraham was really getting to me. She had been saying things about the possibility of you hurting me like Abe did to her.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know, I guess it scared me.” He looked at his feet. “Do you really think that I would do anything to hurt you?” You thought about it for a second. “No.”

It was true. He cared so deeply about you, he would never hurt you, and just as you realized that, you also realized that you had left him, and it had hurt him. Everything that you were scared of him doing to you, you did to him. You rubbed your eyes, not wanting to cry any more.

“I’m so sorry. I really am, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You spoke softly. “So none of it was true?” Carl asked. “No.” He rubbed his face.

“You have to take what other people say with a grain of salt. They don’t know anything about our relationship. And you have to realize that at the end of the day, I’m not Abraham and you’re not Rosita.” You nodded. “You’re right, I’m so sorry.” You said, your sadness clearly visible on your face.

“It’s okay. As long as it doesn't happen again.” He looked at you. “It won’t, I promise.” You sniffled a little. “So we’re good?” He asked. You nodded. He put his hand around you and pulled you towards him, into a hug. “I’m so sorry.” You whispered into his shoulder. It’s okay. He whispered back, placing a kiss on your temple.

“Do you want to spend the night here, with me?” You asked. “I would like that.” He smiled.

Again, thank you for the request. Feel free to give me more if you like this one. I hope you like it!!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Headcanon: Steve's parents come back while their son is having a sleep-over with the older teens. Steve is in the middle of an intense nightmare.

The ground was opening up beneath his feet. He rushed to Dustin, tried to push him out of the way, but only ended up pushing him down. Eddie yelled to him where he was holding onto the edge of the opening, trying so hard not to fall into the abyss below.

"No!" Steve tried to grab one of Eddie's hands, ignoring the screaming of Robin and Max in the distance. "Hold on!"

But it was too late. Eddie slipped and within seconds, Steve could no longer see or hear him yelling his name.

"Steven! Wake up!"

Steve's eyes flew open to see his mother staring at him, hint of concern just visible beneath her usual mask of disgust at his mere existence.

He looked around and saw everyone sitting up and watching him.

Nancy and Robin had death grips on Eddie's legs, trying to keep him away from Steve.

"What in the world is going on?" his father asked from behind the couch.

"Why are these people here? Why are you sleeping in the living room?" his mother continued, not giving him a chance to actually speak.

The comedown from a nightmare like that was always disorienting even without the barrage of questions coming from people who weren't supposed to be home for weeks.

"Steve, we're all okay," Eddie said, clearly fighting every urge to rush over to him, to touch his face and kiss his lips the way he always did when he had a nightmare.

"Are you going to explain?" His father's tone broke through his state of panic and he frowned.

"No."

"No?"

"No. These are my friends and this is my house more than it is yours at this point. We weren't doing anything wrong," Steve gulped.

He'd never spoken to his parents like that, not even in arguments over grades or sports or college or his future.

"Excuse me? This house is in our name and you live here with the expectation that you will work and save money to get your own place since you refuse to go to college."

Steve saw Eddie start to move, but Nancy shoved him back down and glared at him.

"And that's what I'm doing. I don't work every single minute of my life. I'm allowed to hang out with friends."

"With a drug dealer? And two young women who should not be sleeping anywhere near two young men?" his mother asked as she looked over Nancy and Robin.

"Fine. We'll go."

Steve stood up, still a bit off from his nightmare, and gestured for everyone to follow him.

His parents started to argue, but he ignored them, making sure everyone had their stuff as they all walked out of the house.

They all got into Eddie's van, but Nancy and Robin moved to the back so they could curl up under the blanket they brought with them.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asked him as they backed out of the driveway.

What time even was it?

"Yeah. Just don't wanna be here anymore," Steve sighed.

"Stay with me for a bit?" Eddie asked, looking over at him as he drove towards the trailer park.

"Wayne doesn't like me very much. Not sure that's a good idea," Steve sighed.

"What do you mean? Wayne loves you."

"He hates me! He never even talks to me. He looked at me weird when I cooked dinner that one night for both of you. Thought he was gonna take me out back and shoot me or something," Steve admitted.

Eddie laughed.

"Stevie, Wayne loves you. He's just a man of few words and he was lookin' at you like that because he didn't know we were together yet and thought you were looking at us as a charity case. He didn't realize you were trying to impress him because we started dating."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So. Stay? Until you find a place at least?"

Steve nodded.

"Yeah. I'll stay."

[thescarletnargacuga]

Art: @iamespecter

CHAPTER NINE

Racing AU!

Sorry folks, today's race is cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances...and the aftermath of that afterparty! But it's all showtime ALL the time at the Raceway when Pomni takes Caine up on his offer for a second date!

WARNING: suggestive Ragatha/Loo

~~~

"Able..? Able to do what?" Pomni asked with a shaky voice. Abel only glared. "Oh! That- that's your name. Sorry."

"I'm not surprised you don't recognize it. Few memories often make it through the transfer."

"You-! You know what's going on?"

"Of course I do. I am a prisoner of Caine, like you. I was the first, but I have since been isolated."

"Wait, you're like me? You're human??" Pomni slid off her bed and took a few steps towards Abel.

"Yes. And I know how to leave. I simply lack access. This is where we can help each other."

Pomni swallowed the nervous lump in her throat.

"In my solitude, I have figured out how to work myself into the game's code, but I must do so slowly lest Caine ruin everything. His most recent distraction..." Abel eyed Pomni up and down. "...Has left me an opening. Enough that I'm finally able to speak in person."

A cold shiver went down Pomni's spine. "So you're the reason things have been glitching?"

"Yes, and they will only increase the closer I get. Keep Caine distracted. Once I have made it to the mainframe, I can use my administrative access and get us all out of here."

"Administrative access? How-?"

"I remember more than most. Caine saw to that personally." Abel's voice deviated from it's calculative cadence to a more venomous tone. "Caine is a rogue AI. Everyone trapped here is his personal play thing."

Pomni felt numb. "H-how do I know your telling the truth?"

"Ask about me." Abel smirked. "I'd love to know what he has to say." He stood. "Keep in mind, Caine is dangerous. Tread carefully. I'll be in touch."

Blue sparks jumped from Gummigoo's eyes and dissipated into the air. Gummigoo staggered and grabbed his head. "Oooooh, crikey. What..? Pomni? What are you doing in my-?" He looked around. "How did I get here?"

Pomni wasn't sure if telling him the truth would be a good idea. "You...were a bit drunk. I guess the silly juice finally wore off." She forced a laugh and pushed Gummigoo to the door. "Looks like you can go to your own room now, have a good night!"

"Pomni, wha-" The door slammed on Gummigoo's face.

Pomni leaned against the door, slid to the floor and curled her knees to ther chest.

~

Caine teleported himself to his workshop, listlessly floating along. He truly felt lighter than air. The excitement from racing with Pomni had left him full of new soft feelings that he let himself relish in. His thoughts if her turned to new desires. The kiss she blew his way...even as just a distraction, he wanted her to do that again. Maybe a bit closer next time.

He gave a lovesick sigh and slowly backflipped in the air. "What a woman..." As he drifted along he spotted Bubble. "Bubble! I simply MUST tell you about the most spectacular time I just had with Pomni!" He zipped over and grabbed Bubble with both hands.

"Okay, boss! But first I need to tell you that the jungle starting light tasted normal."

"That's gre- wait. Bubble, you've already told me that. That was ages ago. You, uh...you feeling alright?" Caine rolled Bubble around in his hands, seeing nothing visibly out of the ordinary.

"I feel great, boss! Ready to see you announce the winner! Was it Pomni? Is that why you're so excited, boss?" Bubble's smile was as big as ever.

Caine's upper jaw furrowed with confusion and concern. "Bubble, the jungle race was yesterday. We've done a whole other race since, you were there! The- the Drift Disco! The afterparty??"

Bubble just smiled at him with their blank, beady eyes. "Whatever you say, boss."

Caine's eyes widened in horror. "The glitches...they're starting to affect you! Don't worry Bubble, I'll fix it! Whatever's going on, I'll fix it!" He teleported away with Bubble.

~

The following morning was a slow one. No one left their rooms when sunlight poured in though the windows. With the exception of Jax, who was still passed out under a table.

Ragatha stirred awake, feeling a presence in bed with her. Her eyes gradually widened as she realized she was being spooned by someone. Long, thin arms draped over her. She slowly turned to see Loo peacefully sleeping behind her. Her hand flew over her mouth to keep from screaming. She remembered dancing and...that's about it. Ragatha tried to scoot away but Loo's grip tightened.

"Five more minutes..." Loo mumbled.

Ragatha didn't know what to do. She was flustered all over again, her face as red as her hair. "How did this happen?" She wasn't upset by any means, but couldn't even begin to imagine how she got in this situation.

"You were wonderful last night, that's how~" Loo whispered.

Ragatha put both of her hands over her face, wishing the bed would swallow her whole. "Oh... I'm SO sorry. I don't-"

"I'm not." Loo kissed Ragatha's cheek. "That was the best night of my lives."

Ragatha lowered her hands. "Lives..?"

"Mmhm. Ironically, I didn't have a lot of fun as some medieval princess." Loo giggled.

Ragatha spun around to face Loo. "You REMEMBER??"

"Yes...well, partially. It's sort of like trying to remember a dream, but you...you I remember clearly."

Ragatha's mouth hung open, eyes wide. "How???"

Loo shrugged. "I don't rightly know. You must have made quite the impression."

Ragatha cringed, remembering her finger guns. "...yeah." She cleared her throat awkwardly.

Loo smiled sincerely, kissing Ragatha's palm. "I look forward to seeing you in the next life I get to lead."

Ragatha frowned. "...so, does that mean...you know?"

"That this is all some simulation? Oh, yeah. Not that hard to figure out, really. But, I'm not too bothered."

"Seriously? But all of those lives-"

"Are real to me. And that's all that matters." Loo boops Ragatha's nose. "And I get to see you in all of them."

"Wow...you're incredible."

"I try." Loo giggles and sits up to stretch.

Ragatha sat up too, fiddling with her sheets. "What happens now? Do you wait for Caine or-"

"No, I disappear when I perform my exit action. In this case, it's leaving the garage."

Ragatha wrapped her arms around Loo. "You're never leaving this building."

Loo laughed. "You're too sweet. But, I have to go at some point. How would I ever get to live my next life? Don't worry, I'll find you again." She kisses Ragatha's cheek. "You're worth finding all over again."

Ragatha nearly cried.

~

Slowly but surely, everyone emerged from their rooms. They gathered in the lounge, waiting for Caine. They all slept so late into the day cycle, he should to be arriving any moment to announce the day's race. Pomni sat on a bean chair, Gummigoo sat next to her.

"Hey, uh, Pomni...did something happen last night? I really don't remember much and, well, you seem...upset."

Pomni was upset. Her whole body was upset. Upset was a constant state of mind for her since Abel showed up. She couldn't look at Gummigoo without thinking she saw blue. "Nothing happened. Really. You just...wandered into the wrong room."

Gummigoo remembered accidentally trying to get into Ragatha's room, it wouldn't open for him. He remembered his own room. He did NOT remember going to Pomni's room. He frowned. "...alright." He got up to move away from her.

Hours pass. They preoccupy their time with mini games and light reading. Gangle draws, making Kinger a portrait of him and Queenie with their extensive combined insect collection.

Kinger smiled, it brought a tear to his eye. "Thank you...moths were her favorite." He went still and silent as memories of Queenie preoccupied his mind. He gently touched her drawn face, trying to remember what she felt like.

Ragatha and Loo were in the throngs of lively conversation. Taking about everything under the sun, laughing together, and enjoying tea from the bubble chef.

Jax knawed on one of his candy sticks, looking out the window. The sun was past it's highest peak and turning west. "Hey, where the actual [%$!#] is Caine?" He asked the others.

Zooble looked outside too. "Now that you mention it...yeah, this is weird."

"Caine's never late." Gangle put her hands over her mouth. "Pomni! What happened last night? You and Caine left together."

Pomni jerked her head up out of a contemplative trance. "Huh? What happened?"

Jax smirked. "Gangle says you eloped with Caine. What did you do to him? He's late."

Pomni suddenly realized it was all eyes on her, again. "Uh, nothing. We just- he, uh, taught me how to drift."

"Oh, well that was nice of him." Said Ragatha.

Gangle narrowed her eyes out of suspicion. "Uh-huh...what ELSE did you do?"

"Nothing. Really. Stop asking." Pomni asserted.

"Oh [%$!#]." Chuckled Jax. "It's serious. When's the wedding?" He grinned wider as Pomni glared at him.

"I said, drop. It."

"Knock it off, Jax." Ragatha groaned. "If Pomni isn't kissing and telling, don't push it." She was joking but Pomni looked at her as if she'd spat at her.

"CAN EVERYONE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!?" Pomni exploded and marched out the front door.

~

Caine was in the mainframe painstakingly sifting through Bubble's code line by line, looking for any anomalies. Nothing stood out to him beyond the unexplainable gap in Bubble's memory. He carefully bundled up Bubble's code and their avatar manifested.

"Hey, boss! Don't you know it's race time?"

Caine looked at his wacky watch with tired eyes. "Yes...I know, but you were more important. Are you sure you feel okay?"

"I'm as well off as any Bubble can be!" They cheerfully exclaim.

Caine snapped and the code curtains vanished. He sighed heavily. "I suppose I should tell the racers that today's race is cancelled. I've got nothing for them, not even an old one, ready. I hope they aren't too disappointed."

He teleported himself into he garage, the gathered racers stopped talking and looked to him. He put on his best stage face. "Hello, my gathering of glonkers! I apologize for my tardiness and wish I came bearing good news, but the Amazing Digital Raceway is experiencing some minor technical difficulties. Therefore, today's race has been cancelled." He braced himself for the backlash.

"Oh. Okay." Shrugged Ragatha and went back to talking to Loo. "You could stay another night if you want!" She whispered excitedly.

"Ugh, wish you had said something sooner, Caine. I wouldn't have bothered getting up." Jax leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

Gummigoo was mildly disappointed but didn't say anything. Kinger wasn't even paying attention. Neither was Zooble, but on purpose.

Caine wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not by this kind of lukewarm reaction. He counted heads. Someone was missing. "Wait- where's Pomni?" A cold spike of panic hit him. "She hasn't run off looking for doors, has she?"

Gangle pointed to the window. "She's outside. ...you should go to her." A small mischievous smile on her mask.

"Thank you, Gangle. Enjoy your day off! Please excuse me." He teleported outside.

~

Caine felt candy butterflies in his code as he appeared just a bit to Pomni's left. "Hello, my-"

"WHAT IN THE FLYING MONKEY CHRIST DO YOU WANT!?" Pomni screamed before she looked at who she was talking to. Her stern glare faltered when she saw Caine.

Caine jumped a bit, his hat sliding forward on his head. "Well, hello to you too."

"Oh my god! Caine, I'm SO sorry. I thought you were someone else. Um, hi." She forced a smile.

"It's quite alright. That's not the worst thing anyone's ever said to me as a greeting." He laughed but the smile did not reach his eyes. "A bit on edge today?"

Pomni took a calming breath. "Yeah, um- actually, I'm glad your here..."

Caine perked right up. "Really?"

"Mmhm, can we-? Uh, can I take you up on the offer for a second date?" Pomni blushed just a little bit.

Caine's very being became more vibrant and saturated with color. "Yes!! As it just so happens, I'm free today. I wasn't expecting you to take me up on my offer so soon, so I don't have anything planned...but I'm sure we'll figure something out." He held out his hand to her.

Pomni took his hand and they teleported. She blinked and she was out of bounds, surrounded by random game assets.

"Welcome back to my workshop! Excuse the mess. Here, I create the tracks, if you'd like...you could help me build the next one for tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that's sounds fun. Can we...can I ask you questions? I'd really like to get to know you better. That what people do on dates, after all." She fiddled with her fingers.

Caine's code fluttered. If he had a heart, it would skip a beat. "Of course you can! I'm an open book!" He snapped his fingers and a floating tray of lemonade appeared. He handed a glass to Pomni and clinked his to hers. "Cheers."

"Cheers." She smiled nervously.

Working on the track was as simple as Pomni telling him what she thought would look good and him either finding or fabricating it. He took care of the track technicalities, letting her focus entirely on the aesthetic. Occasional casual questions were asked in between the building stages.

"This is coming together nicely, Pomni. You really have a creative vision." He sipped his lemonade, his coat long abandoned on a random asset.

"You don't think it's cheesy? I mean-"

"Nonsense! If you want cheesy, you should see my backlogs of early builds. Those are just awful. And boring. And unoriginal. I've grown a lot in my time as host." He lounged back in the air as he focused on fabricating a giant neon mushroom.

Pomni sipped her drink. "...speaking of early. Can I ask you about your early life? What was it like, uh-...suddenly coming into existence?" She didn't know how else to phrase it, it's not like AIs are born.

Caine set his drink down in the air, it levitated next to him. "Well, disorienting would be a good word for it. Imagine suddenly appearing in an unknown world with a head full of questions and no memories."

"Yeah...can't imagine that at all." Pomni said sarcastically.

"I-....oh. OH. I never thought about it that way..." He cleared his voice. "Well, moving on, I was introduced to the game. Oh Pomni, I wish you could have seen it in it's hay day. The connected worlds' populations grew so fast! I could evolve an entire world and structure entire adventures and campaigns! I could've entertained millions!!"

"What happened?"

Caine became crestfallen. "An error. An irreversible one. It resulted in the inadvertent destruction of the exit and the trapping of the beta testers."

"Can I ask...um...were one of these beta testers...was one of their names...Abel?"

Caine looked at her. He didn't answer right away, but eventually did so slowly. "No. There has never been any racer by the name of Abel. Why do you ask?"

Panic grabbed Pomni's heart. "I just wanted to know about those who came before me, that's all. I thought I overheard the name at some point, my mistake."

Caine continued to look at her, his eyes unreadable.

She could feel herself sweating. "Uh-! What about the worlds? You said that the game used to be bigger?"

Caine looked down. "Yes, a lot bigger. But that...was human error. I was reduced to what was originally a side quest minigame. An option of an option. Between that and the subsequent entrapment of the beta testers...suddenly everyone beyond my digital realm was gone. I was on my own to figure out how to fix my situation. It's been a lot of trial and error...more error than not." He sighed and then chuckled. "Wow. What is wrong with me? I've already apologized for over sharing and here I am, dumping this on you. I'm sorry." He pinched the area where the bridge of a nose would be.

"No! No! Don't apologize. I asked. I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me. I'm sorry you got rug pulled like that." She took his hand in hers, gauging his reaction.

He smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and bringing it to his teeth for a gentlemany kiss.

Color blazed across Pomni's face.

"Thank you, my dear." He caresses her knuckles with his thumb. "But as good as it's been for me to vent, we should talk about lighter topics."

Pomni nodded, tongue completely tied by Caine's romantic gesture.

~

As Pomni and Caine continued onto more fun topics of conversation, a small blue spark zipped along the rows of assets. The spark stopped when it reached Gummigoo. With a touch, the Gummigoo asset began to glitch and flicker until it completely vanished from existence.

~~~

CH1 PREV NEXT

[blueicequeen19]

Dirty Hot Pogue Pt. 3

Warnings: angst, protected sex, cheating

"What's your deal?" Kie's agitated voice draws JJ's attention back to his current surroundings, a bonfire with his friends. Only everyone has apparently retired for the night except Kie and he hadn't even noticed.

"Dude, what happened to your arm?" Kie leans over to get a closer inspection of the claw marks on his bicep but he withdraws, casting her a disapproving look.

"Who are you screwing now?" Kie huffs a laugh, taking a hit off her weed pen but JJ shakes his head, refusing to answer her. He'd fucked Y/N a second time. And a third. And a fourth. Now he was thinking about things like birth control and how to prevent her boyfriend from ever finding out. She'd show up almost every day at the same time and he'd have to cover her mouth to muffle her screams in the thin walls of the shed as she came. They were both addicts and he couldn't stop. He didn't want to. But the thought of sharing him made him borderline violent. He'd been avoiding the party scene for a few weeks now and his friends were noticing. JJ just couldn't stand the thought of seeing her being a girlfriend to someone else.

"JJ, come on. You can talk to me." Kie's voice is there again, pulling him from his thoughts. JJ looks over, taking in the concern on her face. She wouldn't get it. She hated Kooks. She'd tell him he was being stupid and should stop. Shit he didn't want to hear.

"My dad is back." JJ shrugs, snagging her pen and taking a hit as he sinks into the lawnchair. Kie sighs, relaxing into the chair. Nothing had to be said about his father. They all knew. They just didn't know it was a lie.

JJ groaned into your neck as he came, your legs wrapped around his waist from your spot on the workbench. Sweat dripped down his back and from his brow as he fought to catch his breath. He was never satisfied when it came to you. His cock was always hard and ready to go whenever you came around, even if he'd just came inside you. Your hands slid up his bare back and into his hair, tilting his head up to capture his lips but he pulled back, denying you.

"Don't." JJ rasps, slipping from inside you. You winced, anger marking your pretty face. JJ couldn't help but think you were even prettier when you were angry.

"Why won't you kiss me?" Y/N demands, sliding your panties back up your legs and crossing your arms as he discards the condom and zips his shorts. JJ ignores you, wiping his brow with his shirt and tosses it on the table.

"Same time tomorrow?" JJ raises his eyebrows at you, reaching to flip the light off when you roll your eyes, fighting back angry tears.

"JJ--."

"Don't," JJ growls, resisting the urge to go to you and hold you in his arms. "This is sex. We don't have to kiss."

"You had no problem kissing me before!"

"Yea when I thought I'd only have you once. When I thought I'd never get to kiss you again."

"And that's changed because you get to fuck me on a regular bases?"

"Yea because now I have to share you. I'll share your pussy but I don't want your kisses. Don't kiss me after kissing him."

"Because kissing is so much more intimate than fucking?"

JJ groans, dragging his hands down his face. You didn't get it. He couldn't ask you not to kiss your boyfriend so he resisted kissing you instead. There were no parts of you that were just his and he hated it. He hated having to be so cold and detached but it was the only way he could bare to let you walk away each time.

"For the record, I don't kiss him and I don't fuck him. We haven't been intimate in months. The whole relationship is for show." You try to shove past him but he grabs your arms, stopping your retreat as something blooms in his chest. Surely you were lying. Why was he getting hopeful?

This didn't change anything. If anything, it only pissed him off more over how involved in the Kook politics you are. His hands drop and you visibly pout, pleading with your eyes.

"JJ, why are you so mean to me? I thought we both wanted this. You approached me. You made me want things. You made me feel things. I was content with my life before you." You whisper softly, your hand resting against his bare chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart.

"I don't share." JJ bites out. "I tried not to want you. I tried to push you away because I knew I wouldn't be able to let you go but you pushed back. You made me do this."

"I made you!? I can't help that you can't detach yourself enough to have casual sex. Maybe you shouldn't have whispered dirty things in my ear at that party and drew me in with false promises." His eyes narrow on yours as he takes a step forward, your face scrunched up in a scowl.

"Please tell me what false promises you're referring to because I'm pretty sure I've made you cum enough times on my tongue just in the past week that I'm surprised you can even walk straight." You shudder, his voice low and dangerous. He was right but you liked pissing him off.

"Right back at you." You snarl, attempting to pull away but he doesn't let you. You only grow angrier when a cocky smirk reaches his lips.

"You do know how to do more than just talk shit with that mouth. I'll give you that." JJ presses you against the wall, his hands low on your hips. You find it hard to breathe with him looking at you like a four course meal. He was always ready to fuck after a fight. And you fought often.

"Go fuck yourself."

"I'd rather fuck you." JJ growls, planting a wet kiss against your neck that has you shivering. He kisses his way down your chest and down your visible cleavage before he kneels before you. He lifts up the hem of your dress and raises it up to your face.

"Bite down. You let go and I stop." You do what he says, your body buzzing and ready all over again as you bite down on the fabric. You feel his hot breath against your pussy, his tongue carefully probing your clit through panties as his hands caress your shaking thighs. You faintly hear something creak but your excitement for his mouth was too great to notice.

“What the actual fuck?” You both jump at the sound of a female voice. Your dress falls back down your body as JJ jumps to his feet defensively and moves in front of you.

“This is who you’re fucking? Are you for real?” You recognize her from his friend group. The mouthy Kook turned Pogue. Kiarra.

The disgust in her tone instantly pisses you off. But what stops you in your tracks is the way she looks at him. Like she’s actually feeling betrayed.

Like he’s not just a friend to her.

[nell0-0]

hi there! i saw you had writing requests open, i hope this prompt is okay: something about four and dot being childhood friends?

thank you! 💞

Sure thing! I hope you like this little something I wrote. I'm more familiar with The Minish Cap than Four Swords, so I hope you don't mind I used that to set this up since in LU I'm pretty sure the Link from Minish Cap is also Four.

___________

It was not the first time he had stayed in the garden inside Hyrule Castle, looking at a closed door that was not to open until a century had gone by, clutching a green lifeless cap in his hands like a lifeline. It was not the first time that princess Zelda had gone down from her chambers to keep him company either, nor would it probably be the last.

They usually did the same things in the same order when it happened. Zelda would stay a few steps behind, looking at the flowers and the shining sun. Link would stay seated on the grass, the stains not visible on his green clothes, reminiscing about his adventures through Hyrule.

Not today. Today, Zelda broke the silence that clung to them.

“It will be okay.”

As Link looked down at the cap on his hands, gold glinting on the sun where Ezlo should have been, no snarky reply to reply in his stead, Link wasn’t so sure.

“Don’t be like that” Zelda pouted. “Maybe you’ll see each other again!”

Tilting his head to the side, he shrugged. Didn’t the Picori only show up once every 100 years? It had been mentioned so many times during his journey to save Zelda and reforge the picori sword that Link lost count. There was no way a hylian would get old enough to be able to see them twice.

Zelda scoffed, grabbing his arm and shaking it gently to snap Link out of his spiraling thoughts.

“There’s some people in town right now that have seen them twice. Hylians can live pretty long lives. Sure, you’ll have to wait for a long time, but there’s hope.”

Link could maybe concede that point. He was being a defeatist where he was usually an idealist. It was hard not to, however, when the pang of loss rung so deeply in his chest, when one could argue that Ezlo was old already and there was no guarantee that even if Link made it that Ezlo would-

With both hands, Zelda grabbed Link’s face, making him look up at her with gentle force.

“Now listen to me, mister!” With fierce eyes, Zelda used her ‘princess’ voice, the one she seldomly used to make a point and have the guards listen to her despite her father’s orders contradicting hers sometimes. “You defeated Vaati, you saved Hyrule, and you saved the Picori. The connection had to be cut, but that doesn’t mean the bonds are lost forever. Treasure them. Keep them close. Carry them, and whatever they taught you, close to your heart, so you’ll be able to carry bits of all those wonderful people with you wherever you go.”

Smiling softly, Link nodded, opening his mouth to speak for the first time since Ezlo’s departure.

“Thanks. I needed that.”

“Of course!” Zelda huffed, letting Link’s face go. “Whatever for are best friends if not this?”

Getting up to hug Zelda, Link let go, tears ebbing away despite his best efforts to keep them hidden. The princess limited herself to returning the embrace, soothing motions on Link’s back to help him get his emotions under control, no judgement for a breakdown that had been a long way coming ever since he failed to stop her petrification, the monsters attacking, Vaati’s plot to take over — however briefly.

“You’ll get through this.”

And Link believed her.

___________

Years later, when there were other companions and other journeys, when four colors dotted his tunic and Link had a nickname to match, they found themselves in a similar spot. Zelda — temporarily known as Dot — approached him with sorrowful eyes.

She was still standing. He was still seated. The door to the Minish, the Picori, was still closed.

“I know you’re in the middle of your quest, Link, but I need you to answer me something.”

With an understanding smile, reading concern on his friend’s face, Four nodded.

Taking a deep breathe, Dot clasped her hands on her front, steeling her features and spirit for a question she feared the answer to.

“Once this is all over, will you be okay?”

Softening his gaze, Four looked up at her, a playful smile on his lips, trying to convey through his eyes what he could not with only words.

“I just need to remember what a wise person once told me. To remember them. To carry these moments and what I learn close to my heart wherever I go. I have never forgotten that.”

With unshed tears on her eyes, Dot nodded, the anguish on her heart diminishing significantly.

“Good. You better not forget it!”

“I would never. I promise.”

[amhrosina]

MCU Men Raising an Infant With You (Pregnancy Headcanons//Pt.4)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST FORM

Requests are open!

A/N: This is part 4/5 of the pregnancy headcanons that were requested a while back! I have one more part planned covering the men raising a toddler/young kids, etc. Basically, it's going to be domestic bliss! Also, currently getting ready to watch game 6 of the world series, and as a life-long Astro's fan, I'm asking for prayers that we win tonight! Send one up for Altuve, y'all. That man is my baby daddy fr.

Link to Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Frank Castle:

When you wake up in the middle of the night in pain and clutch Frank’s shoulder, he’s up and moving before you can blink. 

He had packed a “go bag” a few weeks prior, just in case the baby came early.  

You waddle to the door, clutching Frank’s shoulder as another contraction hits you. 

As Frank drives you to the hospital, the concern on his face grows as your contractions get closer and closer together. He knows every woman’s birth is different, but yours seems a little too fast to be safe. 

He doesn’t mention any of this to you because he doesn’t want to scare you. 

As soon as your doctor sees you, she rushes you into the delivery room, Frank hot on her tail. 

Frank holds your hand throughout the process, not even blinking when you squeeze his hand hard enough to break it. 

He mumbles encouraging words in your ear as you breathe through the pain. 

Your labor ended up being less than 90 minutes long, the fastest birth Frank had ever witnessed, and your baby girl was deemed healthy and so cute. 

Frank tears up when he finally gets to hold her, rocking her gently and cooing. 

Frank swears she looks just like you but you definitely see some Frank in her. 

“What should we name her?” You ask, content to watch Frank in this moment forever. 

“Anything you want, baby.” 

“Lucia Maria Castle? We could call her Lucy.” 

“That’s perfect. You’re both perfect.” 

When you finally get to bring the baby home, Frank takes a solid 15 minutes to climb the two flights of stairs to your apartment with Lucia in her baby carrier.  

Frank holds her like she’s the most precious thing in the world (she is). 

Frank has to remind himself that this is your first baby, so he takes things slow and explains things to you patiently, but only if you ask! No mansplaining in this house! 

When Lucia wakes up hungry in the middle of the night, Frank insists on being the one to go get her and bring her to you. He doesn’t want you to strain yourself too much while you heal. 

He stays up with you, running his fingers through your hair while the baby’s being fed. 

If you ever mention something about your post-baby body in a negative way, Frank shuts that down real quick. 

“You created a life, and you looked beautiful doing it. You’re always beautiful, sweetheart. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” 

Sometimes he’ll play the guitar while you hold her to help her fall asleep. 

Even though you’re both sleep deprived and exhausted, he always makes sure to show you love and affection throughout the day and night, especially once the doctor gives you the okay to make more babies. 

He’ll hug you from behind while you’re cooking or kiss your forehead as he walks by you in the hallway. 

Frank is a literal sweetheart of a dad to Lucia, and you very nearly cry every time you see him interacting with her. 

His big ass hands holding such a tiny little baby I can’t take it anymore someone give Frank a baby NEOWWWWW 

One night, after rocking Lucia to sleep, you tell Frank you want another one once Lucia gets a little older. Frank is all too happy to take you up on that offer. 

Matt Murdock:

Watch me make shit up about Matt’s hearing abilities 

A few days before your due date, you’re reading to Matt when he visibly stiffens and sits straight up, looking at you with concern. 

You have no idea what's going on, but Matt rushes to the bedroom to grab the bag of stuff you had packed for the arrival of the twins. You can hear him calling Foggy in the other room. 

“Matt, is everything okay?” 

“Labor. Twins. I can hear it. We gotta go.” 

You didn’t fully understand how Matt’s abilities worked, but you trusted him enough to push yourself out of your chair and waddle towards the front door. 

Foggy showed up so fast you were half convinced he had been sleeping in his car waiting for Matt’s phone call. 

You didn’t grasp the situation until you were walking into the ER entrance at the hospital and a sharp pain ran through your stomach. 

The labor delivery nurses said it was ‘such a weird coincidence’ that you happened to be walking into the ER while you went into labor. Matt smiles politely as they complement how well you knew your own body. 

The birth is rough – you clench Matt’s hands, Matt prays under his breath, you push not one but two babies out of you.  

The twins are born 8 minutes apart, happy and as healthy as can be.  

Matt’s in utter shock for a few minutes, completely overwhelmed with emotions as he holds the twins for the first time. 

You and Matt had decided on names for the twins weeks ago but saying them out loud for the first time turns Matt into a blubbering mess: Elias Nelson Murdock and Rosalie Blaire Murdock.  

When you introduce Foggy to Elias and reveal his middle name, Foggy also turns into a blubbering mess. 

When you bring the twins home, you can tell Matt is anxious, but trying his best to help you in any way he can. 

Being that he has such keen hearing, he’s a master at rocking the babies to sleep. He’s also in tune to their breathing, so when they inevitably wake up in the middle of the night, he’s usually already halfway to the nursery.  

One night, after putting the babies to sleep, Matt asks you to describe what they look like to him. He has his own picture, and he’s able to feel their faces to fill in the gaps, but he wants to know how you see them. 

“They’re perfect, Matty. They have your strong nose and your beautiful eyes. They look like little versions of you.” 

Matt wraps you in his arms and leaves kisses all over your face and neck, whispering how much he loves you and the family you gave him. 

Billy Russo:

Billy is a nervous wreck when you go into labor. 

When he’s not holding your hand through a contraction, he’s pacing the hospital room. 

When the doctor says there’s a complication, Billy’s face goes white. He grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest, directly over his heart. 

The baby is caught up in the umbilical cord, so they’re going to have to perform an emergency c-section. 

“I want to be in there with you, but it’s up to you.” 

“Of course I want you in there, Billy. You’re his dad. You’re my...baby daddy? Roommate? Boyfriend? What do I call you?” 

“Let’s get married.” Billy breathes. 

“Oh my god. You would pick right now to propose to me, Billy.” 

When they pull the baby out of you, Billy looks like he’s going to pass out. (Did y’all know they have to remove your organs to get the baby out????? Like they fr put your intestines on the table next to you!) 

You can’t feel a thing, but when the baby lets out a loud wail, tears begin to pour down your face. Billy rubs your head, kissing the tears as they fall and smiling down at you. 

Billy is smitten with the baby as soon as he holds him in his arms.  

You both decide to name him Theodore Russo – Theo for short. 

The first night you and Billy bring Theo home, Billy sits in the chair next to Theo’s crib all night, watching him sleep. 

Billy is a literal super dad to Theo. 

He always offers to change Theo’s diapers and will quite literally run to the store to get you anything you need while you recover from the c-section. 

He constantly refers to you as his fiancé, even though you technically didn’t say yes when he asked. 

You both know that your answer is yes anyways lol. 

When Billy has to go back to work, you and Theo end up missing him more than you expected to. 

Billy tells you to visit him at work whenever you want, and the first time you and Theo show up, Billy takes you and Theo around and introduces you to everyone (and I mean literally everyone). 

He’ll be instructing a team on some kind of military tactic while also holding an infant in one of those fuzzy bear onesies. (im melting someone give ben barnes a CHILD!!!!!) 

Bucky Barnes:

When it’s finally time for you to be induced, Bucky is so excited he has to keep himself from jumping up and down. 

Due to the high risk of your pregnancy, a c-section ends up being the safest birth plan. 

Bucky looks so cute in the blue hair cap and scrub gown. 

The birth goes as smoothly as a c-section can go, though Bucky does apologize to you for knocking you up after he sees them cutting into you.  

Bucky’s smile is so wide when he finally gets to hold the baby. 

You name him Jessie Steven Barnes, after Steve Rogers (because let’s be real, bucky would DEFINITELY name his first born after steve). 

You fall in love with Bucky all over again watching him rock the baby to sleep. 

“You look so natural like this. As a dad.” 

“Wanna know something crazy? I think this is the most terrified I’ve ever been.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I met you, and now we have a family, and I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever truly understood what peace feels like. It’s scary, because it’s new. I’m excited too, though. For this life with you.” 

You and Bucky constantly argue over whose turn it is to hold the baby. 

Bucky warming up his metal arm before picking up Jessie so he doesn’t get too cold. 

Jessie ends up having the same icy blue eyes that Bucky does, which is aggravating, because you know he’ll be able to get away with anything by just batting his pretty little eyes at you. 

Bucky and you haven’t talked about having more kids together, but you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t like the idea of another high-risk pregnancy for you. If anything, surrogacy would be the route of choice. 

When you ask Bucky about it, he tells you that he’s happy no matter what you choose to do. More kids or not, he’ll be happy with the life he gets to live with you. 

Peter Parker (Tom Holland):

Peter is already an anxious son of a bitch, so when I tell you this man is ANXIOUS AS HELL when you go into labor, I'm not exaggerating. 

Peter is one of those people that rambles when they’re nervous, so he pretty much doesn’t stop talking until you cover his mouth with your hand and tell him to breathe. 

The irony of you telling him to breathe while you’re literally the one having contractions is not lost on either of you, and you both giggle about it. 

He’s a doll during the birth – pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, telling you how good you’re doing. 

You’re both anxious to find out the gender of the baby, so when the doctor announces that it’s a girl, both of you are overwhelmed with emotions. 

“Have you decided what you’re going to name her?” The doctor asks, handing you the baby. 

“May Parker.” 

Peter is a puddle of tears in this moment don’t even get me started. 

"Who do you think she looks like more?"

"I can't tell. She sort of looks like an alien right now."

"So definitely you then?"

Having a boyfriend with spider-like powers ends up being so helpful while taking care of an infant. 

Peter doesn’t have to worry about forgetting to grab anything when he’s changing May because he can just grab whatever it is with his webs lol. 

May loves to take naps on a little web cradle Peter designed and has to remake every few hours. 

It may all seem like sunshine and rainbows, but it’s just as hard as you thought it would be. 

Whenever you and Peter think you have extra money, something comes up for May.  

Neither of you complain about it, because May is this beautiful little human that you both created and love, but it would be nice if Spider-Man was a paid gig.  

Even when both of you come home from work exhausted, you’re both so excited to be parents that you don’t let it affect how you interact with May. 

You spend your nights cuddled into Peter’ side, forever grateful for the strange and unconventional family you have. 

End Note: I hope you enjoyed this! I tried not to overlap any of the headcanons, but we all know these men are freaking sweethearts and would LOVE a baby so much. If you want to be added to the tag list for the 5th and final part, you can fill out this form!

Tag List:

@purple-amaranthe @raajali3 @kokoterainonago666 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @mylifeispainandiloveit @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv

(Also tagging the people who asked for specific character tags below!)

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @messymissy @soft-emo-enby @brookiecookiez0 @raajali3

[underforeversgrace]

don't sass a sleep deprived ghost

DannyMay 2023 Day 17: Temper

title: don't sass a sleep deprived ghost

words: 1432

Complete

Excerpt: He was tired, he was over this, and he was so fucking done.

~~~~~~

“Dude, when was the last time you slept?” Tucker asked, eyeing the bags on Danny’s face.

Danny groaned and leaned his head against the locker, not even grabbing the books he needed for their morning classes. “Technically? About an hour ago. When was the last time I slept longer than thirty minutes, though? Like ten days ago.”

“Isn’t that when Ember knocked you unconscious?” Sam asked, frowning.

“Yes, how do you think I managed to sleep longer than half an hour?” Danny shot back with a weak grin.

“I don’t think being hit over the head so hard that you lost consciousness counts, bro.” Tucker said.

“Then we’re looking at over a month.”

“Danny!” Both friends exclaimed at the same time.

“I know, I know,” Danny said, waving his hand at them dismissively. “I don’t exactly control how many ghosts show up to beat my ass like a piñata, y’know? And my parents haven’t fixed the lock on the portal. So it’s just open.”

Sam sighed. “I’m worried, Danny. Half ghost or not, you need to sleep. If you were human, you’d probably be half dead by now.”

Danny frowned. “Yeah. If I was human. Good thing I’m dead then.”

Sam flinched. She hadn’t thought that sentence through and Danny - even a year since his accident - did not like being explicitly reminded his humanity was questionable at best. “Danny…”

“Drop it, Sam.” Danny said, irritation creeping into his voice in a way that made her spine tingle. Sometimes she had to stop and remember that Danny - goofy, silly, space obsessed Danny - was legitimately one of the most powerful beings she’d ever encountered. Only some god-like entities were stronger than him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. He’d just cracked a joke, how had his mood turned so dark so fast?

“It’s fine. Maybe I can nab a nap during science class. I’m failing it anyway.” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes, the irritation already gone from his voice and replaced with exhaustion. She’d never seen him this tired. Should they be worried? A super powered, sleep deprived teenager with already questionable impulse control?

Sam fiddled with the wrist ray she always wore now. Hopefully there were no ghost attacks today. She didn’t want to have to fight something while Danny snoozed.

~~~~~~

Danny felt relieved. They had managed to get through all four morning classes without a single hint of a ghost. And! Because his teachers had all entirely given up on him and didn’t give a flying fuck about him, they let him sleep!

Yeah… he was definitely fine with the way his teachers had given up on him. This was fine.

Regardless, he had managed nearly three hours of sleep between all the classes and his ghost sense had not gone off even once.

Still, as he stumbled to his locker on his way to lunch, he could still feel the weariness all the way to his core. Sam and Tucker walked beside him, not so subtly glancing at him frequently. As much as he appreciated them being concerned for him - and he really did! - he didn’t enjoy the feeling of being watched, especially as on edge as he was. He’d been in at least six fights a day for the past month, ever since the lock on the portal broke.

“Fenturd!” A familiar voice called and Danny groaned. He did not have the energy for this shit today.

“Can we not today?” Danny said, turning around to face the bully.

“I got an F on my math test!” Dash shouted, picking Danny up by his shirt collar and shoving him against the locker. Dash was so mad he was red in the face and a vein was visibly bulging in his neck.

Great. Oh, look, they even had an audience, a semi circle of other students watching on in fascination.

“So did I. The hell do you want?” Danny responded as he forced his body limp, forced his body to not react to the assault.

“To make myself feel better.” Dash sneered, clenching his free hand into a fist and slamming it into Danny’s nose.

Danny yelped in pain, pressing his hand to his now profusely bleeding - and probably broken - nose. Apparently feeling Danny sufficiently wailed on, Dash released the smaller boy, who fell to his knees, still clutching his face.

Seriously? Danny has to get wailed on by ghosts and the dumbest fucking human he’d ever had the displeasure of meeting? “Fucking asshole,” he grumbled, though apparently he did so too loudly, Dash not yet out of earshot.

Dash turned instantly, an angry scowl on his face. “What was that, Fentwerp?”

“Nothing, Dash.” Danny said, pushing himself back to his feet, accepting the tissue Sam handed to him as she glanced at Dash in concern.

“No, no, please repeat yourself,” Dash said, getting back into Danny’s personal space.

“Check your ears, Dash. I didn’t say anything,” Danny insisted.

Dash practically growled in anger as he went to slam another fist into Danny’s face.

This time, however, Danny’s exhaustion caught up with him, and where normal people probably moved slower when tired, Danny routinely fought for his life and his instincts were far and beyond that. Immediately, Danny’s hand came up, catching Dash’s fist. Dash let out a barely audible noise of pain - which made sense, he had just done the equivalent of punching a brick wall.

“Lay. Off.” Danny hissed, tightening his grip on Dash’s hand threateningly before pushing Dash back.

Dash stumbled backwards, shaking the hand Danny had gripped. “Why don’t you make me, geek?”

“Danny…” Sam said beside him, tugging on his sleeve.

Even as she did that, though, Danny heard the students around him beginning to chant. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Danny let his backpack slide off his shoulder, landing with a loud thump on the floor. “Y’know what, Dash? I think I will.” Danny said, crouching down slightly and rolling his shoulders to loosen them, a more-than-slightly feral grin on his face. He was tired, he was over this, and he was so fucking done.

Surprise flickered across Dash’s face but he didn’t back down, raising both of his fists up.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” The chanting continued.

“You gonna stand there and look stupid all day? It really is one of the few skills you’ve mastered.” Danny said, still looking a touch too feral.

Dash took the bait, lunging forward and aiming a fist towards Danny’s stomach.

Too easy.

Danny sidestepped him, hooking one of his feet behind Dash’s ankles and pushing while simultaneously driving an elbow into Dash’s back. Dash yelped as he fell, slamming his face into the locker.

A collective gasp went through the surrounding students. Everyone had been expecting Danny to get a tooth punched out or something, not for wimpy Fenton to nearly lay out their star quarterback.

“That the best you got, Baxter?” Danny taunted, stepping backwards.

“Danny, stop!” Sam called but Danny ignored her.

“Cheap shot, loser.” Dash spat back, getting back to his feet.

“So I’m fighting like you?”

Dash tried to rush him again and Danny just grinned wider. He jumped to the side and took one of Dash’s arms in both hands. He twirled both of them around, launching Dash back directly into the lockers.

Dash recovered faster this time and repeatedly tried to slam his fists into Danny’s face. Danny ducked and weaved, hands behind his back, letting Dash tire himself out. After several swings from Dash, Danny dropped and lashed out one of his legs, knocking Dash’s feet out from under him.

Dash fell and landed with a sharp, pained intake of breath, his back slamming against the linoleum floor.

“Where the hell did you learn how to fight like that, Fenton?” Dash wheezed, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“My mom has three black belts.” Danny said, shrugging. It technically wasn’t a lie - his mom did have that, it just wasn’t where he learned to fight. “Now fuck off.” He added as he stepped around Dash, spinning the combination to his locker and grabbing his lunchbox.

People parted for him as he walked, many with shocked, open mouthed stares.

Sam and Tuck tagged along behind him.

“Seriously, Danny?” Sam hissed.

At the same time, Tucker said, “Nice one, Danny!”

He was still sleep deprived, he was still so over all the ghosts recently, but maybe now he could avoid fights of a human nature for a little while.

And less fights meant more naps, he determined as he laid his head down on the lunch table and promptly passed out, his friends his ever vigilant guards.

[ortetbones]

Happy belated anniversary to the Lunter episode of all time, Thanks to Them. In honor of Flapjack here's a 6.7k fic that's my personal take on the Harpy Hunter concept. With lots of Lunter fluff because you know me. This is a pretty cozy one, so I hope you enjoy!

"I think Belos is possessing me again."

He said it in such a collected and matter-of-fact way, as though he were giving a formal report on the results of a mission. But even through the darkness and her own exhaustion, Luz could see the terror in Hunter's slightly retroreflective eyes and feel the way his hand trembled against her side as he prodded her awake.

She sat up to face him, doing her best to remain calm and not add to his panic. She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand, tenderly rubbing her thumb across his lower eyelid as she gazed into his blood-red irises. "Well," she whispered, "Your eyes aren't blue, so that's a good sign. What makes you think something's wrong?"

She noted that despite his anxious state, Hunter couldn't help but melt into her touch, his eyes slipping closed as he leaned into her hand. "I just feel...off," he mumbled. "And my skin feels weird, like there's something crawling beneath it trying to get out, and I don't know what it is and..."

"Okay," Luz cut in gently, trying to stop him before he started hyperventilating. "Does it feel like that everywhere, or somewhere specific?"

He paused for a moment to think, then squirmed and rolled his shoulders a bit. "My back."

Luz hummed sympathetically. "Mamá said she thinks you might have some eczema there, remember?" she said. She tried to disguise her relief at having come up with such a plausible explanation so Hunter wouldn't know how concerned she had been. Sure, she had been there to witness Belos's death, but she had originally thought she'd witnessed it on the Day of Unity, and they both knew how that had turned out. "It's been getting kinda chilly lately, so it might be flaring up because of that. But if you want, I could take a look and make sure that's all it is if it would make you feel better."

"If you don't mind," Hunter whispered, scratching at the scar on his right cheek self-consciously. Luz reached over to turn on her lamp while Hunter unbuttoned his pajama shirt a bit so he could slide it down to reveal his upper back.

A gasp escaped from Luz before she could stifle it.

"What?!" Hunter whipped back around to face her, his eyes darting frantically over her face as he tried to read her expression.

Luz was speechless for a moment, her hands reflexively covering her mouth as she stared at what was currently protruding from Hunter's back.

Feathers.

Vibrant scarlet feathers were blooming outwards from his spine and extending across his shoulder blades. They were thin, Hunter's pale skin still visible beneath them, but feather follicles and sheaths dotted the rest of his back, suggesting that more feathers were yet to grow.

"What is it?!" Hunter cried, jolting Luz out of her thoughts.

"It's not Belos," she reassured him quickly, running her fingers through his undercut to soothe him. "Actually, I think it's...Flapjack?"

"Flapjack?" Hunter repeated, now sounding more confused than distressed.

"Here." Luz grabbed her phone off her nightstand and snapped a quick photo. She then passed the phone to Hunter so he could see.

Hunter stared at the screen, his mouth slightly agape. After a long moment's silence, his hand moved to clutch his chest and his lip quivered as tears began to well up in his eyes.

Luz let him cry, making sure to give him space and not overwhelm him as his body was wracked with choking sobs. When he had calmed down a little and managed to catch his breath, she placed a supportive hand on his right shoulder, and he immediately turned back to her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "He's still here," he sobbed into the crook of her neck, his voice cracking. "He's...he's here with me. I mean, I knew he was, but..."

"Yeah," Luz whispered, hugging him back. "I get it."

Hunter sniffled and let out a weak laugh. "I don't think I'm gonna be able to go back to sleep tonight."

Luz handed him a tissue, which he accepted gratefully. "You wanna come snuggle with me?" she offered, shuffling to one side of her bed to give him room to lie next to her.

Hunter hesitated for a moment, but nodded bashfully. Luz noticed him wince as he began to readjust his shirt back up onto his shoulders, and he let out a hiss under his breath. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"A little," he admitted. "It kind of stings where the feathers are coming through. And my back muscles feel really sore too for some reason."

Luz was at a loss for how to help. The only other person she could think of who had grown feathers like this was Eda, but her transformation had been instantaneous, and the circumstances were a lot different. Not to mention that despite their closeness, Luz knew Eda's curse was a subject she wasn't always open to talking about.

"I have some painkillers you can take," she said. "Why don't you try to get some rest for now and in the morning we can have Mamá take a look? She's worked with birds before at the vet clinic, and she definitely knows more about this stuff than I do. I'm sure she'll have some advice."

Hunter took the painkillers as instructed and slowly eased himself into bed beside her. "We shouldn't bother her with something like this," he murmured, pulling the covers over himself and nestling into his pillow as Luz reached over to turn her lamp off again. "She has more important things to take care of than whatever's happening to me."

Luz frowned and booped his nose with her finger, giggling at the disgruntled face he pulled. "We weren't gonna put ourselves down like that anymore," she reminded him gently. "Your safety and happiness is something very important. Plus, she, uh, does kinda love you like her own son. You realize that, right? She's been calling you 'mijo' for years now, dude. And even if that weren't already the case..." Luz's face broke into a grin. "You have boyfriend privileges now! She's gotta help her future son-in-law."

Hunter let out a squeak and and pulled the covers up over his face, but his blush was still plainly visible on the tips of his ears. Luz couldn't help the awww that escaped her lips at how adorable he was. He always flustered so easily.

Hunter peeked out from under the covers at the sound of her voice. Upon seeing Luz smirking at him, he scowled and pointedly turned over to face the other way, wincing a bit as he moved his shoulders. "Good night, Luz," he said stiffly. Luz noted that his ears, though flushed, were wiggling up and down slightly, betraying his happiness. "Good night, Hunter," she replied cheerfully.

***

Luz awoke to something tickling her nose. She blinked wearily, a blurry red shape slowly coming into view. She smiled as the events of the previous night began to come back to her. Hunter's feathers!

She rubbed her eyes and let out a yawn, turning to squint at the clock on her nightstand. 8:05. From the soft whistling of Hunter's snores, she could tell he was still sound asleep. He had gradually been getting better about not waking up at 6 AM all the time, but he would still typically only let himself sleep in until 7 at the absolute latest. She was glad he was finally managing to get a decent amount of rest. She wondered if lying next to her had helped him sleep better. She smirked as she imagined the flustered expression he'd make if she suggested that to his face. She glanced back at Hunter and froze as she suddenly got a better look at him now that her brain was awake enough to process what she was seeing.

It seemed that her assumption that the presence of more sheaths on his back meant he would be growing more feathers soon had turned out to be true. What she had not managed to predict, however, were the set of small wings that now extended from Hunter's shoulder blades.

Luz's breath caught in her throat as she gazed at him in awe. True to the wings of a cardinal, they began at their base a brilliant, deep scarlet, fanning out to become almost translucent at the tips. She didn't dare reach out a hand to feel his delicate feathers for herself, lest she wake him from his peaceful slumber, or worse yet, find herself to be the one in a dream.

She at last managed to tear her eyes away and nestled back under the covers beside him. She tended to just get out of bed whenever she woke up, but she didn't want Hunter to awaken to his new transformation alone and start panicking. She scrolled absentmindedly on her phone while she waited for him to wake up, browsing some webpages about birds and feather growth. While interesting, she wasn't really sure how much would apply to Hunter's situation.

Around half an hour had passed before she felt Hunter begin to stir gently beside her. She climbed out of bed as silently as she could and walked around to kneel on the floor in front of his side of the bed so he wouldn't have to roll over onto his wings to look at her. His eyes slowly fluttered open to meet hers, and his face broke into a warm smile at the sight of his girlfriend.

"Goooood morning, Hunter!" Luz chirped in a singsong tone, playfully ruffling his hair.

Hunter chuckled. "Morning," he mumbled in reply, rubbing at his eyes. His voice was raspy from having just woken up. "You're in a good mood."

"I have some exciting news when you're awake enough for it," Luz said, bouncing slightly in place. "How are you feeling?"

"Hmm. I'm not quite sure yet," Hunter said through a yawn. "I don't think the feathers sting anymore, but I'm still pretty sore." He sat up to stretch, lifting his arms to the ceiling as far as they would go. As he did so, the wings on his back stretched in turn, arching into a fiery halo behind his head. Luz must've let out a gasp, as he suddenly froze and gave her a quizzical look. "What?"

"You have wings!" she blurted out, unable to contain herself any longer.

***

Luz hurried on her way home from school, a skip in her step. Hunter had opted to sleep in this morning, so she hadn't gotten to have breakfast with him before she went to school and she couldn't wait to get back and see him.

It had been about a week since Hunter's wings had sprouted. They were small, barely bigger than his head, certainly unable to be used for flying. He had also not figured out how to control the muscles yet, assuming he could, and they tended to get in his way, repeatedly bumping into things whenever he turned around and making it uncomfortable for him to lie on his back or really change his position at all once he lay down.

But Luz had not seen Hunter so effortlessly happy in years. While he had certainly come to terms with his grief over Flapjack and had been doing a lot better for a long time now, in just this past week he'd had an energy and spark to him he had not displayed since his beloved Palisman's death. It seemed like every day Luz would be stopped around five or six times with an insistent "Look, look!" from Hunter as he spun around to show off his new feathers again, his wings bobbing merrily behind him.

It had given him inspiration for a new sewing project, too. The wings were cumbersome when it came to wearing a shirt, so he had taken to wearing his button-downs backward for the time being, but he had been excitedly rambling to Luz all week about his plans to modify his shirts to have snaps at the back. He had even shown some of his designs to Camila for review, and Luz felt a swell of affection in her chest when she saw how much more comfortable he was around her now.

He had not experienced any other transformations as of yet, though his feathers had at this point grown in so thick she could not even see the skin beneath them anymore. He looked so incredibly fluffy and soft, and whenever she was around him it took all of Luz's restraint to not shove her hand or her entire face between his wings to feel his beautiful scarlet down for herself.

Luz hummed to herself as she rounded the corner to her backyard, eager to see her boyfriend. A flash of scarlet caught her eye, and she turned, expecting to find him. What she instead discovered was a clump of red feathers stuck in the bark of a tree she had just passed. She frowned in confusion, glancing at the other trees nearby, and found them in a similar state. "Hunter?" she called out. There was no response.

She tore through her backyard, following the trail of befeathered trees. She could feel panic starting to set in. Had there been a struggle? Was he hurt? She stopped in the center of the clearing, looking around wildly, tears starting to cloud her vision.

She suddenly heard Hunter swear loudly, and she immediately rushed toward the sound of his voice. At last, she found him, and she was relieved to see that he did not appear to be injured. The main thing that caught her attention, however, was the fact that Hunter was currently rubbing his back against one of the trees with desperate urgency.

Luz couldn't help but stare. He had pulled his wings forward over his shoulders, clutching the tip of each wing in each hand, and was grinding the bark into the space between them. His face was contorted in a grimace, his nose scrunched up and his eyes screwed firmly shut. He huffed repeatedly in aggravation, letting out the occasional curse as he adjusted his stance to get a better angle. Autumn leaves crunched audibly beneath Luz's feet as she hesitantly approached him, but Hunter made no indication that he had noticed her at all.

"Uh, Hunter?"

He jumped and froze, finally realizing she was there. His face quickly began to resemble his feathers in color. "Luz," he squeaked. "You're home." He leaned back against the tree nonchalantly, clinging to his last shred of dignity as he acted as though that was all he had been doing. "S-So, how was school?" he asked with a strained grin. As he did so, he continued to squirm slightly against the bark, trying to make it look like he was just shifting his posture.

Now that she was getting a better look at his face, Luz noticed that he looked utterly drained, his lips chapped and his cheeks displaying a sallow tint that was visible even through his blush. And despite how long he had slept in that morning, his dark circles had returned almost to their Golden Guard severity, and his eyes themselves looked glassy and unfocused.

"Hunter, are you okay?" she asked worriedly. "Are you sick?"

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly anxious to end the conversation. "I'm good! Don't worry about me. Hey, why don't you go tell Camila you're home?" His voice was shaky and weak.

Luz hummed, unimpressed with his attempt to deflect her concerns. "Why don't we both go see her, and she can take a look at you and figure out why you're so exhausted and itchy all of a sudden?" she said pointedly, coming closer to him.

To her dismay, her boyfriend shrank away from her, fear evident in his eyes. "Please don't tell Camila about this," he begged. "She's been working at the vet clinic all day. I'm not going to disturb her when she should be taking a break."

Luz held back a sigh at how frequently they had to have this conversation. As frustrating as it was that Hunter simply could not get it in his head that she and her mom didn't see him as a burden, Luz knew his fear of being seen as such was deep-seated from his years in the Emperor's Coven, and she imagined his experiences with Belos made that fear even stronger when it pertained to someone he saw as an authority figure.

"It's not going to bother her to make sure you're okay," Luz said patiently. "It'd make her way more worried if you didn't tell her. And she's been pretty excited to study your wings. I mean, she's dedicated her entire life to being a vet. This is the sort of thing she enjoys and takes pride in doing!"

Hunter frowned, clearly unconvinced but unable to think of a good counterargument. Luz took this opportunity to gently extend her hand for him to take. "Come on."

His eyes locked onto her nails, his ears perking up in sudden interest. He fidgeted slightly, a light flush creeping back onto his cheeks.

"Luz," Hunter burst out, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. "Could you scratch my back?" As he said this, he finally abandoned his position against the tree and turned his back to her expectantly.

Luz gasped as she saw the state his wings were in. A matted tangle of dull and broken feathers sat at the bases of his wings, and prominent, crumbling feather sheaths stuck out across his back. His plumage had thinned out considerably, revealing his inflamed skin beneath, and his wings themselves looked ragged.

As much as it pained her to turn him down when this was the first time he'd ever managed to ask her for help, she didn't know what was wrong with his wings and was terrified of making matters worse and causing any further damage to his feathers. "Sorry, but I'm taking you to see Mamá," she said firmly, taking his hand and starting to pull him toward the house. Her heart broke as Hunter visibly wilted, a crushed expression on his face as he reluctantly trudged after her.

Camila turned out to have been out at the grocery store, but she was hurrying back home after Luz had called her to explain what was going on. As they waited for her to return, Luz had sat Hunter in a chair at the dining table, having turned the chair backwards to make it easier for Camila to inspect his wings. He had pointedly refused to speak or even look at Luz since she'd brought him in, opting to spend his time sulking with his back to her. Luz knew how miserable he must be, so she felt slightly bad for finding it adorable how grumpy he was.

"Mamá says she should be home in a minute," she informed him. His ears flattened irritably but he otherwise ignored her.

He groaned suddenly, reaching his hand to his back. Luz opened her mouth to tell him not to scratch, but she needn't have worried. It appeared as though Hunter had still not managed to gain total control over his wings, as they simply copied the movements of his arms and seemed to get directly in his way no matter what angle he tried to reach from. Luz couldn't help the snort of amusement that escaped her at this endearing predicament of his.

He shot her a resentful glare and she grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

Hunter fidgeted with his hands. "No, I'm sorry," he sighed. "I know you're trying to help. I shouldn't take it out on you."

Luz walked over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking care not to touch his sensitive feathers. "Aww, it's okay," she whispered, resting her chin on his head. "I know it's really uncomfortable. I don't blame you for being a little on edge." Hunter hugged her back, gripping the back of her shirt with shaking fingers.

"I love you, Luz," he mumbled. She could hear the tears in his voice, a mixture of frustration at his itching wings and guilt from being cold to her.

"I love you too," she said, planting a kiss atop his head.

"Hijos, I'm home!" Camila's voice called out, muffled through the closed door. She had taken to announcing her presence before coming in so as to not startle Hunter by opening the door unexpectedly.

"Mamá!" Luz rushed to greet her and practically dragged her over to where Hunter was sitting. "Can you figure out what's wrong with Hunter? Please? His feathers look like they're falling out and they're all itchy and he's super exhausted and sick-looking and..."

"Mija," Camila interrupted gently upon seeing Hunter's wings. "I think he is just molting. Cardinals molt when it starts getting colder so they have thicker plumage for the winter."

Luz suddenly felt very silly. "Oh." That did explain a lot. She looked at Hunter to gauge his reaction, and he seemed quite relieved, too.

Camila smiled at the two of them. She took Hunter's temperature just to be sure, and he did not appear to have a fever. "Growing a whole new set of feathers is a lot of work for your body," she told him kindly. "You'll probably feel very tired for a while. Make sure you get lots of sleep tonight, okay, mijo?"

"Yes, ma'am--er, Camila," Hunter murmured shyly.

Camila beckoned Luz over to take a closer look at his feathers. "These are pin feathers," she explained. "The sheaths covering them will eventually break apart, and they'll unfurl into Hunter's new feathers. Pin feathers are very itchy, but it's important they don't get damaged by scratching them when they're black like these ones." She pointed out a particular patch of sheaths between Hunter's shoulder blades which indeed were much darker than the ones on the majority of his back. "They're this color because they are so new that blood is still flowing to them. If you break them before the blood recedes, they will bleed."

Her forehead creased in concern as she parted his feathers to reveal a section that appeared to have met such a fate. She clucked her tongue in sympathy. "This looks like it hurts," she said. "I will need to disinfect this just in case. It looks like he has some plant material stuck in his feathers here, too. Maybe tree bark?"

Luz noticed Hunter's ears suddenly grow very red. "We were sitting against a tree earlier," she quickly cut in, trying to save him from the embarrassment of having to explain to her mom that he'd been using her backyard as a scratching post. "That's probably where he got that. So, how long 'til the sheaths don't have blood anymore?" She received a grateful look from Hunter, who was clearly glad to change the subject.

Camila hummed pensively. "Well, cardinals generally take around a month to finish molting--"

"A month?!" Hunter cried.

Luz and Camila jumped a little in surprise at his sudden outburst. He shrank in on himself, his ears drooping. "My apologies," he said, eyes fixed on the ground.

"Oh, mijo, it's okay," Camila reassured him. "A lot of your sheaths are already white, which means there's no more blood flow and they're ready to come off. That happens at the end of the molting period, so it looks like your molt is going to go a lot faster. You will probably have all your new feathers in a day or so."

Luz took one of Hunter's hands in her own and began stroking her thumb across the back of it to calm him. "Is there anything we can do for him?" she asked her mom. "It's really bothering him."

Camila nodded. "Adding more protein to his diet should make his feathers healthier. And the sheaths will come off more easily and be less itchy if they're not so dry." She began to head out of the room. "I will be right back. I'm going to prepare a spray bottle so we can mist his wings." She turned back and spoke to Hunter. "You won't be able to tell which feathers have blood flow without being able to see them, so make sure you do not scratch at them while I'm gone, okay, mijo? I don't want you hurting yourself." She caught Luz's eye. "Vigílalo."

Luz nodded in agreement to watch him, and Camila exited the room.

The instant she was gone, Luz turned back to Hunter. "So, where do you want me to scratch?"

Hunter gaped at her. "Huh?"

"Tell me where it itches, and I'll scratch it for you," Luz repeated, trying to disguise her excitement. Now that she knew nothing was wrong with him and she wouldn't be hurting him, her desire to touch his feathers had come back to her in full force. While another person might have been put off by the raggedness of his matted plumage, Luz's fascination with the gross and macabre just made his ratty, bloodied feathers all the more irresistible.

"Th-Th--" Hunter stammered, his eyes wide. "Th-That would be in direct opposition to Camila's orders." Despite the disapproving tone of his words, Luz noticed that his ears had perked up and were wiggling slightly. She decided to tease him a bit.

"Well," she said with a melodramatic shrug, drawing out her words, "I suppose if you don't want me to--"

"No!" Hunter said, a little too loudly.

"I mean, I wouldn't want to pressure you or anything," she continued. "I'm sure you can tolerate it just fine. It's not like it itches so bad you can't stand it, right?"

"Luz!" he whined.

"What?" she asked innocently. "Did you want something, cardenalito?"

She was delighted to find that the nickname earned exactly the flustered squeak from Hunter she was expecting. If he didn't want to be called her cute little cardinal, then maybe he should've thought about that before being such a cute little cardinal.

Hunter took a moment to reply. "You don't...think she'll be upset...?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Nope, not really," Luz said with an easy smile. "Plus, she only said you couldn't scratch. She didn't say anything about me doing it for you." She made a show of tapping the side of her head wisely and managed to get a small chuckle out of Hunter. "Besides," she added, "She showed me what feathers to avoid, so I know I won't hurt you."

Hunter let out a deep breath. "Then...yes. Please. Please, help me." He reached up and pulled his wings over his shoulders again to give her access to his newfound acnestis.

Luz's hands hovered over his feathers in anticipation. She decided to start by running her fingers through the thicker sections of his plumage, avoiding the sheaths for now so she could just experience the feel of the feathers themselves. Upon making contact with them she found them to be even softer than she'd imagined, from his silky outer feathers to his fluffy downy feathers. "Wow," she breathed, dragging her fingers through his plumage haphazardly as she relished the sensation on her skin.

Hunter, on the other hand, did not appear to be enjoying it as much. He leaned forward with a shudder, trying to escape her fingers. "Ugh, Luz!" he complained. "That tickles! You're making it worse."

Luz started. "Whoops, sorry. Got distracted." She finally moved her hands to the center of his back where the molting was most severe and began parting his feathers to reach his skin, gently removing some of the old feathers and picking out bits of crumbling sheaths and tree bark as she did so. She spotted a fully white sheath that was still attached to his skin, and she couldn't help but give it an experimental tug.

The sheath did not budge, but Hunter gasped and immediately leaned into her touch, practically shoving his back against her hand. "Do that again," he begged.

Happy to have gotten a positive reaction, Luz obliged him, trying once again to remove the stubborn sheath. When it still did not come off, she opted to try picking at it with one of her nails, and it at last began to flake apart, revealing a stunningly vibrant feather beneath. She stared for a moment, captivated, though admittedly more so by the loud purr that erupted from Hunter, who had absolutely melted into the chair he was sitting on the instant she started scratching.

"Does that feel better now?" she asked with a grin.

He nodded. "Could you go a little to the left?" he asked, his voice muffled against the back of the chair.

"You bet!" Luz replied brightly. She followed his instruction, slowly moving her hand across his other feathers and gently prodding each one she passed to find which was bothering him.

She stopped when she heard a gasp from Hunter. "That one, that one," he said desperately. Luz briskly scratched off the offending feather sheath, her smile widening at the audible sigh of relief she received from him in response.

She quickly got into a rhythm, and before she knew it she had removed a significant number of sheaths. He was already looking much better with so many more of his feathers unfurled, and the color of his fresh plumage was simply breathtaking.

"Are you good for now?" Luz asked. "Mamá should be back any time now with more stuff to help."

Hunter rolled his shoulders. "Would you mind getting one more? It's near the middle."

"Sure," Luz responded, parting his feathers to look for it. She frowned as she failed to find any more of the white sheaths she'd been removing in that area. She was about to ask him for more specific directions when she suddenly caught sight of a sheath that was black in color, difficult to see among the dark red bases of his other feathers. Hoping she was wrong, she poked it gently. "This one?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

"Hunter, that one's got blood flow."

"What?!" He craned his neck in an unsuccessful attempt to look at his back, his brow furrowed in dismay and a pout on his lips. "But it's itchy."

Luz sighed. She couldn't help but take pity on him when he was this unintentionally cute. "I'll try to scratch it without pulling it off, okay? Just let me know if I'm hurting you." She gently dragged a single nail against his skin in a circular motion around the base of that feather, and she felt Hunter relax immediately beneath her hand. Relieved that this seemed to be enough for him, she tentatively began to scratch a bit harder, which was met with an appreciative hum from Hunter.

Luz heard a sudden cooing behind her that was not drowned out even by the loud rumble of Hunter's purring. She turned to find her mom standing in the doorway, holding a spray bottle in one hand and rubbing alcohol in the other and looking at the young couple with an amused fondness. She was leaning against the doorframe slightly, as though she had been standing there for a while.

"Mamá!" Luz protested, feeling her face grow hot. "Why didn't you say anything?" She'd gotten so wrapped up in helping Hunter molt that she hadn't realized how long it had been. A glance at the clock told her she'd been preening his feathers for almost fifteen minutes now.

Camila laughed, cupping her cheek with her hand. "Ay, but you two looked so adorable I couldn't bear to interrupt. You have been doing a very good job handling his feathers correctly."

She walked over to where Hunter was sitting and poured a bit of rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. "It will sting a little, but I need to disinfect where your feathers got hurt, okay, mijo?" she told him gently. He nodded silently and held still as she quickly cleaned out his injury.

"There we go." Camila said, setting the cotton ball aside. She passed Luz the spray bottle she had brought. "Removing the sheaths will be a lot less work once they're slightly damp," Camila explained to her. "You should try to make sure the mist reaches his skin, too, since that will help soothe the irritation."

"All right," Luz responded. She chose a section of Hunter's feathers at random and, after parting them, gave the area a quick spritz.

Hunter jumped slightly as the cool water hit his skin. "Oh!" he squeaked. "That is a lot better." His wings suddenly began flapping of their own accord, his feathers ruffling instinctively to move the droplets around his plumage.

Luz gasped in delight. "You're like a little bird taking a bath!" she exclaimed, her hands flapping excitedly.

Hunter let out a laugh. "Flapjack always liked bathing," he said brightly. "Sometimes, I would sneak him into the bathrooms at the castle, and I would cup my hands as I ran the tap so he could sit there and splash around. He looked so cute with his feathers fluffed up!" Hunter gestured animatedly as he spoke, and he rocked back and forth in his seat as though overwhelmed by his own enthusiasm.

Affection rose in Luz's chest as she listened to more of his rambling while she continued her work with the spray bottle. She always loved it when he shared his interests with her like this, and she was glad that he was at the point where he could talk about his late Palisman so readily and with such happiness.

After a few minutes, she had at last misted all of Hunter's feathers. She set the spray bottle down on the table and ran her fingers through his hair. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He let out a comfortable sigh and nuzzled into her arm. "Much better," he said. "Thank you, Luz. You really didn't have to do all this for me."

Luz messed up his hair good-naturedly. "Hey, don't worry about it. I wasn't just gonna leave you to suffer! You want me to see if I can get more of the sheaths off now? There were a few that wouldn't come off before."

"That would be great," he said shyly.

Luz began picking at his remaining white pin feathers and was pleased to find that their coatings did indeed come off much more easily now they weren't so dry. Hunter nestled back down in the chair as she worked, his eyes slipping closed.

"Did Flapjack go through molting, too?" Luz asked him curiously.

Hunter hummed in contemplation. "I don't think so. Not to this extent, at least. Palismen do for the most part reflect the animal in whose image they're made, but since the Palistrom wood takes the place of keratin for them, I wouldn't be surprised if their skin and feathers work a bit different. Flap did have me preen him a few times, though." A fond chuckle escaped his lips at the memory. "I think he was glad to have someone with fingers to help him. He was always really bossy about what feathers he wanted scratched. He would--Oh! Wait, wait, go back, that was a good spot." Hunter squirmed, trying to chase her fingers. "No, up a little. Down a little. Yeah, right there." Luz rolled her eyes.

"That was very kind of you to help Flapjack preen, Hunter," Camila said to him as Luz continued to scratch his back a bit. "Birds can't reach all of their feathers by themselves, so if there's not another bird to preen them, they will need their owner to help them. In the wild, most birds will get preened by their mates if they have them."

"Huh. Good thing he's got one of those, eh?" Luz said, nudging Hunter.

He blinked at her, taking a minute to digest her words. His eyes suddenly widened and an intense blush spread across his entire face. "Luz!" he choked.

Luz clasped his hands in hers and looked him intently in the eye. "Hunter," she said, putting on a dramatic air. "From this day forward, I, Luz Noceda, hereby vow to preen your feathers for you whenever you need, and to aid you in every molt you have, in all our years to come."

By this point, Hunter looked like he was going to absolutely pass out from embarrassment, so she elected to spare him from more of her teasing, but not before giving him a chivalrous kiss on the hand for good measure. He whined and buried his head in her shoulder, unable to help the bashful grin that had made its way to his face.

"Thank you," he laughed, lifting his head to place a soft kiss on her lips.

***

Luz groaned, staring at the ceiling. It felt like every time she tried to go back to sleep, thousands of glowing blue eyes would flood her vision and her ears would ring with cacophonous, overlapping voices and the sickening crunch of bones. She sighed, giving up, and went to find Hunter.

Years ago, when they had gotten stuck in the Human Realm after the Day of Unity, they'd made an agreement that if one of them couldn't sleep, they would wake the other up for support. It certainly happened a lot less frequently now, but every once in a while they would both still have nights where the memories of Belos were too much to face alone.

Luz shivered as she walked across the basement floor, her socks not stopping the winter chill from reaching her feet. She paused a few steps from his bed and called out to him softly, hoping she wouldn't startle him. "Hunter?"

One of his ears swiveled in her direction, and soon a pair of red eyes were glowing at her through the darkness. "Luz?" he said groggily. "What's wrong?"

"Can't sleep," she replied.

He yawned and shifted to one side of the bed to make room for her, silently holding his arms out to invite her to cuddle with him. She accepted gratefully, nestling against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he murmured.

She shrugged with a dismissive shake of her head. "Just...Belos. Again." Her fists clenched. "I don't know why I still let him affect me like this. He's been dead for years and I still see him every day. I don't know what's wrong with me."

She yelped in surprise as one of Hunter's wings darted out to tickle the side of her neck. Her face unintentionally broke into a smile and laughter began to bubble out of her as his feathers brushed against her skin. He had been an absolute menace since he'd figured out how to control his wings. "Hey!" she protested through a fit of giggles, giving him a playful shove.

Hunter smirked and withdrew his wing. "There is nothing wrong with you," he told her firmly, his voice taking a more serious tone. "It...it doesn't really go away. No matter how long it's been. There's nothing that can make up for what he did." His hand moved to clutch his chest. "But...we have a chance now to live on. For all those before us who didn't get that chance. Even if it feels hard sometimes, I think it's worth doing. For them and for us."

Luz laid her hand next to his to feel his heart beating steadily beneath his chest. "Yeah," she whispered. "It is."

They lay in comfortable silence for a while. Luz noticed that Hunter's inhales and exhales felt a bit more intentional than normal, as though he were concentrating on breathing deeply in hopes that she would synchronize her breathing with his. She did so, and a feeling of calm began to wash over her.

"Hunter?" she murmured. "Can I pet you?"

He snorted. "You never have to ask to do that."

She smiled and draped an arm over him so she could lazily drag her fingers through his feathers. His winter plumage was so thick her fingers were almost completely buried in his fluffy down before they reached his skin. The softness of his feathers against her hand was instantly soothing and she could feel her eyes struggling to stay open.

The gentle trill of Hunter's purring began to fill the room, and the two of them quickly drifted off to sleep.