#when she didn’t I know he had one thought in his mind: chapter 15

[darlingod]

YOOOOOOOOOOOO Jude really just took her clothes off in front of Cardan and then told him she hated him. Cardan was ready to fall weak to his knees in front of all them folk when he told her to say it again😭😭

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 22 - This Was Not the Spa I was Looking For

Uuuhhh, I don't even know what this was. I had an idea and then this other idea fought the first one and won? so, it's completely different than what I had in mind, but ya know what? its written and done.

There is slight SLIGHT angst, but everything is good in the end :)

so sorry for the delay - will be updating a lot this weekend!

like always comments, questions, concerns, messages in my inbox, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

Budapest Not Included

Champions Standings 

Max Verstappen – 284 points 

Charles Leclerc – 227 points 

Lando Norris – 189 points 

Y/n L/n – 163 points 

Carlos Sainz – 112 points 

Oscar Piastri – 91 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 83 points 

Alex Albon – 44 points 

Fernando Alonso – 41 points 

George Russell – 40 points 

Logan Sargeant – 30 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points 

Pierre Gasly – 12 points 

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points 

Valtteri Bottas – 1 point 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Kevin Magnussen 

Zhou Guanyu 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings 

Red Bull – 447 points 

Ferrari – 339 points 

McLaren – 280 points 

Mercedes – 123 points 

Williams – 74 points 

Aston Martin – 56 points 

Alpha Tauri – 31 points 

Alpine – 12 points 

Alpha Romeo – 1 point 

HAAS – 0 points 

f1 has posted

f1 Y/n L/n and Max Verstappen are out of the Belgium Grand Prix after the Red Bull of Verstappen hit the back of L/n. The latter skidded across the track before rolling over. L/n will be looked over at the medical site, especially after her last DNF back in Japan.

liked by y/n.nation, maxverSTOPpen, orange_army, and 802,394 others

max_and_rookie nah man, I like max but that was seriously his fault

y/n_on_top y/n had the priority to make way for him to win. he just ruined both of their races

max_all_the_way y/n should have just let him keep going tho?

redbullcan no she shouldn't cause Red Bull gave the 2-1 strategy, putting priority for the second car

maxiel333 I fear this is Azerbaijan 2018 all over again

f1fan well there goes that amazing teammate bond. great job max, what is this, 7 teammates? bout to be 8

Once again, you were hanging upside down, in the rain. But thankfully, this time you were conscious and talking. 

You pressed the button that immediately went to your panicking race engineer. 

“I’m fine Mitch. Stupid rain. This was definitely not the Spa I was looking forward to. You tell my asshole of a teammate that he owes me.” 

You switched your radio off before Mitch could reply. You were fuming as the marshals were trying to get you out once again. Your race suit was becoming wetter and wetter by the minute. Your back ached as you tried to move. 

So, how did this all happen? 

You had been able to get around Max, per team request to make way on the track that was a little less rainy. Apparently, Max thought that you were trying to get the jump on him and completely rammed the back of your RB20, sending you flying. It was definitely a mirror reflection of Azerbaijan 2018. 

How you ended up rolled over once again, you didn’t know. Maybe your car just didn’t have great balance when it came to kerbs and getting rear-ended. 

In a few minutes, the marshals were able to get you out. As you stretched when you got out, your eyes landed on Max’s RB20 with its nose crumpled and wheel hanging off. You smirked under your helmet. 

“Serves him right.” 

You two were doing amazing that weekend. Max had gotten pole once again, and you were right behind him. Except that Charles was so close behind Max most of the race. Mitch had given you the 2-1 and had told you that GP had also given the Dutchman the same order. 

There was still time for you to have given the position back, but you were quicker on the slicks. You could have easily brought home another 1-2 race. 

But now Charles would probably get his third win of the season because Max was too selfish. 

You watched as he climbed out of his own cockpit and your blood began to boil. He not only ruined his race, but yours as well. Your arms were crossed as you stood in the rain. Replays of the wreck were playing on the big screens, just for your enjoyment. 

The longer you watched, the angrier you got. 

A push to your arm brought your eyes from the big screen to the Dutch driver. 

“The fuck was that?” he angrily questioned. 

Your eyebrow raised under your helmet. Although you were shorter, you knew how to throw your weight around. So, you shoved his shoulder back. 

“Me? The fuck was that with you Max. I was given priority! This was your fault!” you shouted, earning looks from the marshals around the two of you. 

Max just glared. “My fault? That was clearly a rookie mistake.” 

He pushed you again. 

You let out a dark chuckle. “Rookie mistake? No Max. That was a you mistake.” 

Your pointer finger dug into his chest, earning you another shove. One that sent you to the ground. You were now down, looking up at Max as he glared down at you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him stalk away. 

A marshal was quick to help you to your feet. Max didn’t ride back with you to the paddock and walked the entire way. You, however, took advantage of the ride back and immediately tried to hide inside your drivers room when you got back. You kept your helmet on the entire time and wanted to refuse to go to the medical room. Mitch was adamant about you going since the last time you were bruised pretty badly. 

She made sure it was quick: just a check over. After, your race engineer left you to yourself. While you undressed and peeled off your wet race suit, your mind started swimming. 

Feelings of guilt and anxiety were building in your core. Soon, you were beginning to sob as you sat on your little bed. Really, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, preferably with your boyfriend, who was all the way in the Ferrari garage. 

Your sobs quieted down as your eyes began to droop. Taking a nap right now seemed to be a good choice as you lied down on the small bed, curling up in a ball. A nap would keep you safe from whatever was going on. You didn’t have to deal with anything if you were asleep. 

Right as you were falling asleep, Max had just gotten back to the garage. His helmet was in his hands and his eyes were to the floor, missing the disapproving looks from everyone. On the way back, he had time to think about what he had done. 

Yes, he knew that you were given priority, but didn’t know exactly why. You didn’t seem faster on the slicks or were gaining. He didn’t expect you to go around him like that. And now looking back, he could see that you were making a way for him by getting rid of some water on the track so he could get more grip. 

What he didn’t expect was a shove to the back and a punch to the face. He barely had time to turn around before he landed on his ass on the concrete of the garage. He was so taken back that he really couldn’t understand what was going on. 

All he knew was that his face hurt, his ass hurt, and his pride hurt. 

How could he have done that to you? 

When he got his bearings, he finally saw a certain Monegasque be held back from jumping on him. Spits of French and English were thrown at him, and he deserved it. Once he was back on his feet, Arthur took two handfuls of his race suit and pulled him down. 

There was hardly a height difference, but right now Arthur looked a lot bigger than Max did. 

Arthur leaned close to Max’s face. 

“How dare you? You know that she would do anything for you and what do you do to thank her? You push her down. You break her down. You blame her for your mistake.”

Silence was all that Max could offer. 

Arthur scoffed as he let go. 

“You’re no better than her parents.” 

With that, he left and walked toward your room. He harshly pushed the door open, only to find you sound asleep, oblivious to the world outside. Arthur turned off the lights before gently climbing into your bed. He didn’t know how the two of you had fit, but you did. 

He guessed that you must have sensed him as you turned over and dug your head into his neck almost immediately. Arthur pulled out his phone before googling flights back to Monaco, back to home. He’d keep you in his pocket if he had anything to do it. 

Race Results: 

Charles Leclerc – 25 points 

Carlos Sainz – 18 points 

Oscar Piastri – 16 points (fastest lap) 

Valtteri Bottas – 12 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 10 points 

George Russell – 8 points 

Fernando Alonso – 6 points 

Alex Albon – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 2 point 

Zhou Guanyu – 1 point (highest placing this season) 

Lando Norris (spun out on last lap and barely missed the points) 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Kevin Magnussen (highest placing this season)

Nico Hulkenberg (highest placing this season) 

Pierre Gasly 

Esteban Ocon 

Lance Stroll 

Y/n L/n – DNF 

Max Verstappen – DNF 

Champions Standings: 

Max Verstappen – 284 points

Charles Leclerc – 252 points 

Lando Norris – 189 points 

Y/n L/n – 163 points 

Carlos Sainz – 130 points 

Oscar Piastri – 107 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 93 points 

George Russell – 48 points 

Alex Albon – 48 points 

Fernando Alonso – 45 points 

Logan Sargeant – 32 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points 

Lance Stroll – 15 points 

Pierre Gasly - 12 points 

Valtteri Bottas – 13 points 

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Zhou Guanyu – 1 point 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Kevin Magnussen 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 447 points 

Ferrari – 382 points 

McLaren – 270 points 

Mercedes – 141 points 

Williams – 80 points 

Aston Martin – 60 points 

Alpha Tauri – 31 points 

Alpha Romeo – 14 points 

Alpine – 12 points 

Haas – 0 points 

Max had gotten a long talking to after everything was over. Christian probably screamed at him for over an hour, plus what GP and then what Mitch had to say after. He had wanted to apologize beforehand, but it seemed as though Arthur didn’t wat Max near you within a 25 foot radius. 

And when the Dutchman thought he could speak to you at the hotel, he had to find out the hard way that you had left that afternoon to go back to Monaco before the second Italian Grand Prix. Max huffed as he thought over what he should do. 

Just as you had anxiety and guilt about the incident, Max dubbed his as 10 times worse. This was it. In the past, everyone told him that he always messed up teammates for other drivers. That’s why Daniil didn’t work out, or Carlos, or Daniel, or Pierre, or Alex, or Checo. One way or another, Max always fucked it up. 

Well, that’s what his mind was telling him. 

And he didn’t want you to just be another name to the list. 

So with phone in hand, and pilot on call, he made the executive decision to fly back to Monaco. He knew exactly where your apartment was, since you gave me the address when you first moved in and a key for emergencies. 

When he landed, he went straight to the grocery store. Knowing that you had the cooking skills of Arthur and Charles combined and the pickiness of Lando amplified, he guessed that you and Arthur probably haven’t had dinner yet. So, he grabbed ingredients to make pizza. Simple enough. 

He drove to your flat and was suddenly enveloped with fear. He hit his head on the steering wheel once he parked. 

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered to himself as he gazed at the lights on in the windows. His head was still on the wheel as he turned to look down. What he failed to notice was you looking through the window. 

“Cheri? Is everything alright?” you heard Arthur call out from the kitchen. You two had just burnt some pasta while trying to make dinner. You gazed down at the familiar car parked in front. 

“Cheri?” 

Now Arthur was close, also looking out the window. 

“It’s Max.” 

The Monegasque scoffed. “What’s he doing here?” 

You hummed. “He’s probably wanting to apologize. I know what he’s like. Thur, he didn’t mean it.” 

Arthur’s eyes changed from cold to understanding. He had heard enough stories from his own brother along with gossip in the paddock about Max’s childhood (or lack thereof). 

He huffed once before saying, “Go to him and then invite him up.” 

He watched as your eyes lit up, before you placed a kiss on his lips. A smile formed on his lips as he watched you slide shoes on and go out the door. Arthur turned back to the kitchen. He guessed he needed to clean up before you invited thee Max Verstappen into the house. 

Max was so caught in his head that he missed you peering in. Only when you slightly knocked on the door, did he jump. He accidentally pressed the horn, making it echo down the empty road. He quickly unlocked the door, which let you slip in. 

His blue eyes gazed into yours before he started to cry. You looked at him with a frown on your face as he tried to desperately wipe his tears. He took many harsh inhales, trying to get his emotions under control. 

Max expected you to yell, scream, and hit at him. Yet, you gently placed a hand on his back and started to comfort him, like he’s done many times before. 

You let him cry and cry until he was ready to talk. 

“I’m such an asshole,” was the first thing that escaped his lips after his sobs started to break. 

You chuckled. “I could have told you that.” 

Max’s lips curved upwards in a small smile before going straight once again. He took another shuddering breath before continuing. 

“I don’t want to repeat the past. I am so sorry for what I did to you, that was unfair of me. I wanted to apologize before you left, but I was too late. And I didn’t want to end today without apologizing to you. Because I don’t want you to be another teammate that I failed.” 

He turned to you, eyes still glossy with leftover tears. 

You leaned to give him a hug across the dash, one that he was thankful for. 

He was the first one to part, still wiping at his eyes. You only gazed at him with compassion. When he was done sniffling, you started to talk. 

“Max, look at me please?” 

He turned his head so his bloodshot blue eyes could look at you. He looked utterly exhausted and your heart broke. If he was anything like you, you knew how much guilt he was carrying. 

“You’re not, we’re not, going to repeat the past. I just need you to understand that I am your team player. And when I’m given a team order, I will follow it every time.” 

Max’s head nodded in agreement. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I already forgave you before I left the paddock. I heard Christian yelling at you.” 

A snort left his nose. “It was probably for the best.” 

The car was filled with a comfortable silence before Max broke it. 

“Did you and Arthur have dinner yet?” 

“Max. What do you think?” 

“I’m going to take that as a no. Good think I bought groceries. Seriously, I am getting you and the Leclercs cooking lessons for Christmas.” 

“I’m not that bad.” 

“You almost burnt down my entire kitchen.” 

“Not on purpose.”  

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 have pizza, teammate, and bestie - will travel

liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc, logansargeant, and 90,294 others

y/n&co guys I was super worried but now I'm perfectly fine

rookie+maxie guys I truly believe that y/n is going to stay his teammate for as long as possible

best_duo frfr - no one has been on his level and he finally has a teammate that can keep up with him

y/n.nation generational talent right there

maxverstappen1 glad I could feed you two

y/n.89 we would have been fine on our own maxverstappen1 sure, after you burnt your food and almost set your apartment on fire y/n.89 hey, Arthur was there too? arthur_leclerc what is with this slander?????

f1_fan guys guys guys, it's the Dutch Grand Prix and then MONZA hello?????

true_tifosi I know I want to see Charles win again, but y/n deserves something

dutch_anthem_on_repeat time for MAX MAX MAX SUPER MAX

orange_army we are ready with flags and capes, bring it on Netherlands!!

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (15) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you cannot seem to stay away. 

word count: 1,443

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter im so sorry, pet name (petal), not proofread

The Snow family cottage was beautiful. It looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The cobblestone walls, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the ivy growing up the side of the house—all of it was gorgeous. Though you loved your life in the Capitol, a part of you would be content to live here forever and you hadn’t even seen the inside yet. 

“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother,” Coriolanus said as he walked you up the stone path. “She always preferred the quiet. She would often come here just to escape the noise of the Capitol.”

“Your father must have loved your mother very much,” you said. To build an entire cottage as a wedding gift? You wondered how long it took. Buildings could be erected quite quickly in the Capitol due to all of the resources being sent straight there. But even then, there could be delays when things were not so readily available. How long had it taken to bring everything out to the countryside? 

“They had a long courtship, so he could have the cottage ready by the time they wed,” Coriolanus continued. “In the end, it was worth it to him if only because it was where she chose to have her children.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She…” you tried to ask, but the words didn’t sound right. It sounded too insensitive to even try. 

“It was the one place that reminded her of my father that had been left untainted by the war,” he said. “I hated this place for so long because it felt like it took her from me. As I grew older, I began to appreciate that at least, through the pain, she felt some amount of peace.” He glanced at you as if to see your reaction. “I hope to make some better memories here with you. If that is alright.”

You swallowed. Oh, why did he have to be so sweet? To share his pain with you, to be so vulnerable…Fuck. Did he do this just so he could confuse your thoughts even more? Or was he being genuine? “I can try,” you offered. 

The corner of Snow’s mouth quirked up. You wanted to kiss it. “Thank you, petal. That is all that I ask.”

But is it all that you will ever ask? you wanted to say. What if you disappointed him? What if you could not provide him with the love he wanted from you? What happens then? 

Instead, you offered a small smile. “Can we go inside? I’m quite hungry after our journey.”

Coriolanus smiled, too, and led you in. It almost felt like you were being taken straight into the lion’s den. You pushed the thought from your mind. You told him you would try. Maybe you couldn’t make better memories for him here, but maybe you could try to understand him. Maybe, away from the Capitol, you could look between Coriolanus from the Academy and the Coryo you’ve come to know and find the true man laying inside. 

You reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. 

After lunch, Coriolanus allowed you your space. He gave you leave to pick which room you would like to stay in over the course of the your honeymoon, showed you where he would stay, and other points of interest in the cottage. Then he disappeared into his study, leaving you to do as you pleased. 

A part of you ached as he left. It had been what you wanted—distance to figure things out on your own. To determine how much you cared about Coriolanus without his presence influencing your thoughts. But you had so much time with him in recent weeks, had gotten to experience him so intimately, that for him to leave you be…It felt wrong. It felt like he took a part of you with him. You swallowed your self-inflicted hurt, though, took a book from the library, and retreated into the gardens. 

Still, as you sat among the grand rose bushes that seemed to follow the Snows wherever they go, you couldn’t focus on the pages. The words blurred together until they were unrecognizable. You found yourself glancing to the window to Coriolanus’s study, silently urging him to walk to it, to look out at you. He never came. 

What was wrong with you? 

You closed the book, not bothering to mark the page you were on. You hadn’t processed a single thing on the pages you flipped through. Hell, you weren’t even sure what it was you were trying to read. This was just a cheap attempt to push away your feelings, to not have to bother sorting through them. 

You retreated back into the cottage, setting the book aside on a table, before marching up to Coriolanus’s study. The door was open. Coriolanus’s back was to you as he gazed out the window. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe. He turned, his pale blue eyes wild with worry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“You drive me mad. You make me ill every time I see you. I cannot tell if it’s because of the butterflies girls talk about or because you scare me. You do. Scare me, I mean.”

Coriolanus took a step toward you. “I scare you?” he repeated.

“Your anger terrifies me. I don’t think…I don’t think you would ever hurt me. But the idea of what you might do to someone who does…Coryo, I have never been more terrified than when you thought I was going to run away with Sejanus. I was sure you would have killed him where he stood.”

A frown settled on his face. He took another step. “I should have. You are everything to me. I won’t let anyone try to poison you against me.”

“I cannot for the life of me understand why. You could have anyone, Coryo. You could have someone who knows that they love you, who can say those words.”

“I don’t want anyone but you, petal.” He stepped closer. One more step, and he would be in front of you. Part of you wanted to shy away, to put distance between the two of you. Your feet remained firmly planted. 

“Why?” you begged. 

“Because I burn for you. You have burrowed yourself into my soul, if I should have one. Since we were fourteen, all I have wanted was you. All I have ever wanted was to be good enough for you. I made a name for myself for you, I became king for you. I will be any man you want me to be. Just give me the word.”

Your brows pinched together. “We only met when we were fourteen.”

Coriolanus closed the distance. “I fell in love with a girl who could look me right in the face and say I was wrong for thinking the opera useless, a gratuitous performance than something contributory to society. I did not come to love the opera that day, but rather the girl whose face lit up at every note. Who nearly rose out of her seat as if she might be sing too. I have loved you for a long time, petal. I fear I always will.”

He reached up, his hands cupping your face. You leaned into his palm, your eyes fluttering shut. “I will go to as many performances as you wish, petal. I will pretend I love every one. I will build you a thousand libraries. I will adopt a million cats. If you…If you tell me to beg for your love, I will get on my knees without a second thought. I will do anything, I will be anything, for you.”

“What if you tire of me?”

“I could never. The months I spent with the Peacekeepers, the years I spent climbing the social ladder, all I could think of was you and all of it would be worth it if I could hold you just once.”

“And when you learn that I am a far cry from the woman you think me to be?”

“Then I would love her, too. You are it for me, petal.”

You opened your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lips—how plush they were, how his tongue darted out to wet them, how they parted, ready to say more. Words never fell past them, though, for you stopped them right in their tracks. You kissed your Coryo until you were breathless. 

When you finally parted for air, you whispered, “I…think this is better than a love match.”

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series (completed)

* loosely inspired by Sara Cate’s “Salacious Players Club” series

🔥 EXTRA CONTENT HERE 🔥

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016** , 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters , ** = smut chapters

Summary: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓. After getting kicked out by your brother, you have no other choice but to take off your big girl pants and add stripper to your resume. Desperate to pay the bills and support your little sister, are you willing to accept the risks that come with such a perilous profession? With the stage name ‘Shy Girl’, you take the leap of faith, weaponizing your divine femininity to steal the hearts of all the bachelors in Hawkins — including Eddie Munson’s, the owner of Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, eventual smut (a lot of it), voyeurism, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, drug/alcohol, profanities, sexual harassment, domestic violence

Welcome to Hellfire.

theme song: meet you in hell by jade lemac “Look me in my eyes. I know that you’re scared. You see yourself and you cry for help. Look me in my eyes. Tell me it’s not fair. If you taught me well, I’ll meet you in hell.”

Chapter 001: Wolves

The Hargroves are cursed. Generationally, that is. One night Billy takes it too far, costing him the only thing he had left... his sisters.

TW — abuse, domestic violence, blood, profanities, implications of infidelity, death

word count: 8.5k words

author's note: there are four different acts to this introductory chapter :) so much foundation to lay down and i spent forever on this to craft it perfectly for you guys. thank you for being as excited about this fanfic as I am releasing it. i hope you all enjoy! -madelyn

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

"Once I ran to you. Now I run from you."

♡

Duality of man. Mom was always a firm believer in that notion. In fact, she always used to say, "Inside of you, there are two wolves: a good one and a bad one. Depending on which mouth you feed, one will triumph the other.”

It became more evident when she died.

“YOU FUCKING SLUT. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GO.”

Once identical in every aspect, the differences between you and your brother slowly began to unravel over time.

Being ‘good wolf’ was impossible while living under the same roof as Billy. So you settled for neutral wolf instead. Meanwhile, the big, bad wolf possessed him at age 15, when he realized hitting your father back would get him to back off.

It was 2010, post-homecoming game.

Dad nearly flung Billy into another dimension when he came home. The preferred alternative would have been attempting to reason with one another, but it just wasn’t something that was normalized in the Hargrove household. Communicating with words was a daunting task; but not nearly as daunting as accountability.

“I’M DONE WITH YOU, BILLY. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE.”

“I’m a literal minor, you can’t do this, Dad!” Billy wailed. "PLEASE!"

Over a football game.

The Friday Night Lights were a staple of Vista Palms High School. That and all of its nacho-eating, pot-smoking, LMFAO-playing, neon-filled goodness.

"C’mon V-P, c’mon, let’s beat S-D!” For weeks Billy had been chanting that mantra. There was no clearer indication that it’s where he would be the night of the championship game. He didn’t communicate it, of course, but it was implied. But still, it didn’t cross Dad’s mind.

Any parent who thought their child was coming home on time — and sober — that night was a foolish one. Especially if their kid was a sophomore with senior status.

“You sure as hell don't act like one,” Dad spat. “Coming home, acting all grown." Little did Dad know Billy was there for community service. Billy was a good student. More than anything he wanted a full ride to a UC, mainly to get away from home. Either that or military. Maybe then, walking on eggshells and being accused of something he didn't do — like drinking and doing drugs — would be a seasonal occurence instead of daily. "ACTING LIKE YOU PAY THE BILLS. YOU DON'T. YOUR MOM AND I DO.”

Dad knew he hit a nerve. It was his signature move aside from alienating his victims to establish control. While the feeling of getting your wings clipped really did you in, reactive abuse was Billy's top trigger, especially when Mom was mentioned. After all, Billy was the one who found Her.

Through glassy eyes and gritted teeth, Billy closed up his fists before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m…not…calling Sue... the operative word.”

Dad snarled. “Like there’s anyone else physically here you’ve reserved that title for?”

Oh.

"This tainted love you've given-"

Billy took the bait, lunging forward to grab Dad. As if on cue, Dad winded up his arm, assuming his usual position. You managed to assert yourself between in hopes of stopping them. Suddenly the back of Dad's hand collided with your cheek, sprawling you onto the couch. Billy watched horrified while you fought to keep your eyes open, growing anxious when all you could hear was the room pulsating around you at the highest frequency you had ever heard in your 15 long years of life. Enough was enough.

One punch. Bridge of the nose. Game over. The control Dad had over you both had ceased.

Billy rushed to your aid while Dad took a few moments to gather himself. It was then his beat-in, throbbing eyes realized that the little boy he mercilessly pushed around was no longer there. His own little Frankenstein had taken his place.

"I gave you all a boy could give you"

"Oh my god, Sissy," Billy cried, crouching down to run a soothing hand through your hair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you sniff, wrapping a hand around his arm. "I'm fine, Billy. I promise."

"I'm not gonna let that son of a bitch hurt you ever again," he vowed. "I'm gonna fuck him up and anyone else who tries."

"I love you, Brother."

"I love you, Sissy." The magnitude of power that surged through Billy melted into every neuron in his body, the warmth of its adrenaline imitating a tender — long overdue — embrace. He became fully enveloped in what was like an electric current, its tide higher than any wave he's ever surfed. It became more exhilarating than cruising down the I-5 in his Camaro at 130 MPH, and more intoxicating than any keg of beer he's ever swigged at a Wanna-be Project X Party.

It was the rush Billy had been searching for his whole life.

Every high Billy ever pursued before that rapidly declined in value. He would trade in anything for the static that had encoded itself into him. He felt untouchable, a luxury your father couldn’t afford his wife and children.

"YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AGAIN, YOU'RE DEAD DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

From that day forward, feeling respected was a freedom Billy was not willing to sacrifice, ever.

"Take my tears and that's not nearly all-"

But now Billy is the abuser, something you never imagined happening given his innately soft personality.

"Oh, tainted love. Don't touch me! Please.”

Slapping. Biting. Choking each other out. Pulling each other’s hair. Calling each other names. Spitting. Throwing things. Who would’ve thought the Hargrove twins were capable of the same horrors as their parents?

Yesterday was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Billy’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, clawed at your brain in agonizing intervals.

“That’s all Max is. A pathetic little liar.”

“She will do anything for any bit of attention…even whore herself out to all the men in Del Mar.”

“You can get out. And stay out. Since you wanna act so grown all the damn time.”

He became the very thing — or person rather — he sought to destroy. The very person who indirectly, but explicably killed your mother.

And deep down you feared that if you and your stepsister Max don’t get out of that house, you’d both suffer that same fate.

“It's fucking JULY and 90 degrees out!” your sister retaliated. “What do you want me to wear to the beach? Fucking sweats?"

Max was out with friends the night prior. They hosted a birthday bonfire for her at the beach. She broke curfew and got a ride home from a friend. A guy friend. Billy wasn’t having it.

Max always got the short end of the stick. She was an easy target for Billy’s antics. Being the literal carbon copy of the woman he hates the most didn’t make it any better, and neither did taking the bait whenever Billy dealt it to “keep the peace”. Max believes being and acting helpless would get Billy to back down. It was far from the truth. In reality, she was feeding him his supply.

And what a volatile supply it is.

Mom also had another saying: "Anger is just grief with nowhere to go".

So you watched Billy and Max go back and forth with their pickleball tournament-o-insults, shouting at one another to their lungs’ capacity, their dead, black pupils strangling each other mentally while they gathered the physical strength to do so as well. You kept an arm halfway up and torso slightly turned in case you needed to butt in.

“I do this because I love you, Maxine,” Billy insisted. “So just SHUT UP and stop being a little cunt. Okay?”

“You stop being a presumptuous asshole first,” Max fired back. “We’re fighting again — why? Because someone with a penis drove me home? And we broke curfew by 10 minutes? I don’t control traffi-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he dismissed her. “Just say you wanted some dick and call it a night.”

Classic slut-shaming, as if Billy’s Instagram following wasn’t all models, strippers, and OnlyFans girls.

Before you could even process what was happening, the blurbs of their argument skidded to a halt when Max finally broke. Billy watched in subtle amusement as she screamed, her fist meeting the wall repeatedly out of frustration.

Reactive abuse is Billy’s favorite abuse tactic.

“Someone who’s not guilty wouldn’t react like this,” Billy quipped in a sing-song voice, eyeing the new hole in the dry wall that Max had created.

There was no sense in backtracking if Billy already got what he wanted. Max just needed the last word. Before any of you could process it, an acrylic storage box soared through the air, hitting Billy right in the groin. He roared in agony while Max attempted to collect herself off to the side. She still saw red.

That’s when the knife came out.

One slice to the brow and it was over. To ensure the last word was his to keep, Billy ended up chucking a knife at your sister.

“OHMYGOD!” Max shrieked repeatedly, entering the ‘freeze’ stage of her shock. “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, I’M BLEEDING! I’M BLEEDING, THERE’S BLOOD!”

It was then you realized, the little boy you vowed to protect and refused to leave behind was long gone. Dad’s essence had taken his place now.

“You just don’t know when to FUCKING STOP, do you?” you exclaimed, putting pressure on Max’s eyebrow with a washcloth as she wailed. Suddenly it was Dad you were talking to. They had the same apathetic, dead look in their eyes. “I don’t care who said or did what, throwing a fucking KNIFE?”

“Me?” Billy tutted. “You wanna call me crazy, who did that?” He was referring to the hole in the wall. “And who was the one to throw shit first? EXACTLY. EXACTLY.”

While Billy was technically correct, he would never admit to what he did to provoke you two.

“So you can both get out if you’d like. Be my fucking guests.”

You and Max exchanged one look. The look. It was time. You both were ready and now had the green light. Now was the chance to bolt without immediate consequences.

So you and your sister spent several minutes rummaging through your pre-packed belongings while Billy continued to shit-talk aimlessly around the rental you shared. The place soon reeked of cheap bud and gas station gin. Trash bags were soon filled with your favorite clothes and you shoved them into as many of your childhood suitcases as possible. Struggling to see past your tear-coated eyes, you reached for your books, the ones you've hollowed out 300 pages deep to pocket all the tips from your waitressing job, and shoved the loose bills into your crossbody. You’d sort through them later. Lastly, you popped the cap off the bottom of your salt lamp. There was a pre-paid Visa you bought several months beforehand waiting for you. With trembling hands, you grasped it and whispered a gratitude to the Universe before tucking it neatly into the back pocket of your Levi’s.

When it was all said and done and everything was loaded into your car, you focus on the hole in the dry wall one last time.

Never again.

Billy was complacent throughout the entirety of the event. You glared at him while he continued to soothe himself with drugs and alcohol, refusing to own up to the irreversible damage he caused your little family.

“SIS,” Max boomed from outside. “LET’S GO!”

A part of you used to pity Billy, but now his destructive behavior took away any ounce of guilt you felt for leaving him.

You never fought back until you had no other choice. Similarly, and tragically, Billy shared that very sentiment.

Who the villain is in the narrative relied solely on whose lens you are looking through.

It took you by surprise all the time. How could identical twins, who grew up in the same environment, end up so different from one another?

“I love you, though you hurt me so. Now I’m gonna pack my things and go." - Tainted Love by Soft Cell

There are two wolves inside of everyone.

——————————𓇼——————--------

"Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you" - DNA by Lia Marie Johnson

The heart-wrenching ballad by Lia Marie Johnson dissolves as you crank the dial to the left. Music is always depressing when Max has the aux chord.

"Did you hear what I said?" you question her.

Max abruptly sits up and reorients herself, attempting to shrug off the trance “DNA” had put her in for a few minutes.

"No, sorry. What'd you say again?"

"Do you need a bathroom break?"

"I'll go at the airport.”

"Okay, but if you change your mind and decide to take a leak one last time, I'll be happy to oblige.”

Swami’s is also an exit away and you’re just fixing for a hot meal before takeoff. But you don’t directly say that. Besides, Max loses her appetite when she’s upset and may only have room for shitty airplane food.

“I’ll just eat on the plane.”

Stale pretzels and flat soda it is.

Despite the decrease in appetite, Max is holding up well. As well as anyone-who-was-nearly-stabbed-by-her-brother-and-is-now-moving-states-away-from-everything-she’s-ever-known-with-her-sister could be.

It wasn’t your first choice to leave California. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid it. But nonetheless, anyone with a conscious and only $4,000 to their name would make the wise decision to move away to somewhere more affordable.

Enter your online friend, Robin.

Working ungodly hours six days a week to pay the bills took up so much of your time that you had no friends in San Diego — albeit high school friends who would have never guessed how you and Billy turned out. Those friends had happy families anyway. They couldn’t hold space for you. Your online friend Robin, who you met on an art forum, however knew your family dynamic and was there for everything. But she lived in Indiana with her partner and was never able to offer you any physical comfort.

You entertained Robin’s idea of moving to where she lives, a small town in Indiana called Hawkins just 20 minutes southeast of the city. Living under the radar to get your ducks in a row seemed like such a perfect plan, but you didn’t want to do so at the expense of Max losing her only support system she had outside of you.

Moving would’ve also meant pulling her out of school, which wouldn’t be possible because Billy was her legal guardian. Now that she’s graduated high school, and today is her 18th birthday, the game has changed completely.

“Donovan texted me happy birthday,” Max reports, finally disclosing a fragment of her inner conscience. “Thought it was sweet.”

You can’t help but smile. "You thought he wouldn’t?”

She refrains from rolling her eyes and shifts them towards the rocky beach cliffs outside her window.

“You know,” you add. “I really think you two could make long distance work. I’ve never seen so much chemistry between two people before.”

Max scoffs. "Yeah right. Long distance with a guy going to Santa Barbara for college?” She fiddles with the strings of the knit poncho resting atop her lap. “I'd be breaking my own heart."

You bite your lip to stop the waterworks. Max doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to enjoy bonfires with her skater friends, surf all the tubular waves, and go on all the nature hikes without worrying about her stepbrother’s codependent-fits-of-rage waiting for her when she comes home. She deserves to eat fried funnel cake at the county fair and share a kiss with the boy of her dreams atop a Ferris wheel on the 4th of July. She deserves a San Diego summer, not a summer spent in hiding from her abuser in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

Max decides to change the subject.

“So what’s Robin like? Your online friend.”

“She’s very sweet,” you breathe. “Been, uh, telling her about Billy for a long time now. Her arms have been open since day one.”

“And her girlfriend?”

“Vicky’s the best,” you insist. “A match made in heaven for sure. It’s like they’re the same person, just different font.”

You get a giggle out of Max. Her laughter during such a turbulent time is like music to your ears. The non-depressing kind.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get you a gift this year.”

She side eyes you.

“What are you talking about? You quite literally gave me the best gift of all.”

“Did I? What did I give you?”

“You gave me safety.”

And with that, you give yourself a mental pat on the back, confident you made the right choice despite how foreign everything currently felt. The conversation dies down while you and Max ride on, driving further and further away from the Park and Ride you spent the night at, off Coast Highway, and onto the I-5 one last time.

Boarding the plane is a swift process. Your plane is a two-seater, so Max gets the window and you get the aisle. After receiving your snacks and drinks, you decide to play white noise and dissociate for the next five hours. It’s safe to do so, anyways. Liminal spaces were not something you took for granted.

Meanwhile, Max looks out the window, watching as the world she has come to know her whole life shrinks right before her eyes, before disappearing underneath a quilt of soft white cumulus clouds.

“This is 18.”

Goodbye, San Diego.

—————— ✈︎ ———————

Hello, Hawkins.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Robin incites, trudging through the miscellaneous projects that sit at her feet. “As if we weren’t DIY freaks enough, the pandemic really just amplified that.”

The pandemic was a hard time for everyone. You lost your fine dining gig and abruptly switched to UberEats to adjust to the flow of takeout. Billy couldn’t go to the gym, his happy place, and it took a toll on him mentally. Max broke quarantine multiple times to see Donovan, which didn’t sit well with your brother. He of course lashed out on her and also proclaimed that people like her were the reason why America hadn’t opened up yet.

“And I get no time at the gym!” Billy screamed. “So now I have to do this—”

You learned that a decent lamp costed $70 that night.

That wasn’t your first rodeo though. You and Billy grew up replacing furniture all the time. You two would gather up your money and spend it on replacing whatever needed replacing for Mom’s birthday. She always wanted to make your house feel like a home. Feel lived in. You and Billy thought you were heroes doing it, but it dawns on you now that you two were just babies.

“Oh!” Vicky interrupts. “Before we forget…”

You and Max watch her as she scrambles around, looking for something that she seemed ecstatic about.

“Happy birthday, Max!”

“No way, Kate Bush!” Max exclaims as she accepts the gift, an original Kate Bush vinyl record of her album Hounds of Love.

"Wow," you beam, rubbing your sister’s back. “Way to fuel her 80's hyperfixation, huh?"

“We found this at the thrift store,” Vicky boasted. “Knew we had to get it for ya.”

“It’s the real deal too," Robin adds. "Look, printed 1985.”

“It’s perfect,” Max gushes. “Can’t wait to play it on my Crosley.”

She thanks them both and hugs them before running back to the living room to get the rest of your belongings. You listen as she hums some of Kate Bush’s discography along the way.

You then observe Max as she unpacks her things one by one, slightly peppered with remnants of the California sand and the snobby fee it took to ship it all here via cargo. She then proceeds to sit on the new bed to check the springing quality, testing its bounce factor and comparing it to that of her old bed.

You let out a bittersweet sigh.

Suddenly you're eight years old, doing the same thing at the local motel Mom managed to snag a couple nights from when Dad trashed the house.

You turn to look in the mirror atop your new dresser.

Suddenly, you're Mom. Quite literally. You both have the same wavy blonde hair, scattered freckles across your nose that Billy used to call “stardust”, and the same tsunami blue eyes. It makes it no wonder why you and Dad never got along. You are Mom’s spitting image — and Billy is Dad’s.

Funny how life turns out.

You graze the crows feet at the outer corner of your eyes, realizing now how many years have silently passed you by, and then take note of the stress-defined scars in the form of eye baggage from all the sleepless nights that came as a souvenir.

You’ve put up with so much. For so long. The trauma is starting to manifest itself physically.

Robin snaps you back into present day. "So I was thinking we go to Applebee's for dinner, walk around Old Town, get you guys settled and unpacked when we return, Jenga at night, and then-"

She stops when she sees the horrified expression on your face.

“Hey…” the pitch in her comforting, raspy voice heightens. “What’s the matter?”

Your voice breaks. “It’s…” you manage. “It’s been a lot.”

Robin pats your back. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Without looking, Robin snags a few tissues from a box laying around and gives them to you. You blot the tears away, careful not to mess up the makeup you had on with the intention to make you look less…dead.

“Sue didn’t even call and wish her happy birthday. Her own mother.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robin repeats.

“Every day I watch Max store her trauma in the box... and just shove it into the corner where it gathers dust,” you continue. “If she doesn't unpack it..."

You didn’t even want to think of the collateral damage you and your brother caused her. A part of you wants to think Maxine has remained untouched from that side of you, but the dry blood on her outer brow was a reminder that it was far too late to shelter her from that.

"You see yourself in her."

"And my mom in myself,” you admit. “Now more than ever.”

You rub your eyes.

“I’m rambling, I know. It’s just… SO aggravating. Max deserves better.”

“She’s handling it really well.”

“We don’t know that. I know Max. She’s a pro at hiding her feelings.”

“She’s being strong for you, like you are for her. It’s very endearing, whether you both admit it to each other or not.”

She rubs your arm.

“For as long as Vicky and I are here, you and Maxine have a soft place to land. We are here for you. Y’all are safe.”

You two glance over at Max, who is now unpacking your Zen Basics Himalayan salt lamp. She sets it on top your new bedside table, a reupholstered one whose old wood was painted over by an earthy olive green, the old hardware replaced by eccentric shaped, neutral-toned knobs. Her Crosley sits on your floor, now playing a track off Kate Bush's vinyl while she stares out the window. Your new view for the foreseeable future.

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?

Tripping on the water like a laughing girl

Time in her eyes is spawning past life

One with the ocean and the woman unfurled

Holding all the love that waits for you here

Catch us now for I am your future

A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land.

Dinnertime comes fast, but you blame it on the time zone difference. You call shotgun and ride with Robin in the passenger seat, catching up with your best friend while Vicky and Max watch YouTube shorts in the backseat.

Robin gives you a backstory of everything you pass on the way to Applebees, from the schools to churches to family-owned gas stations. She and Vicky seem to know everyone by a first-name basis, naming random people off and knowing exactly who that is every so often. You try to stay engaged, but the only thing on your mind is where you’re going to apply for a job.

Robin drives into a plaza next.

"This used to be a mall, but now it's completely empty," Robin continues pointing to an empty building with remnants of a star symbol etched on it. "E-commerce really turned this strip into a ghost town."

"So basically, if I wanted a job, it would have to be any of these food places, an office of sorts, or an off-brand Blockbuster store?"

"Family Video is closing too," Vicky chimes in. "It's sad. But I guess Hawkins needs yet another overpriced coffee shop."

"You could always work at the gentlemen's club," Max jokes, pointing off to the side.

You turn to where she’s pointing and take note of the matte black rectangular building by the Sizzler’s. It didn’t seem out of place, but the silhouette of an exotic dancer with devil horns gave the sinister establishment away. You couldn’t read the name of the club, but a part of you tries to.

Robin slightly turns and nods in that direction. "Oh yeah. I heard the girls there make bank in tips."

“I made bank in La Jolla doing fine dining,” you point out. “Maybe I can do the same thing here. But at a similar establishment.”

“Fanciest restaurant you’ll get here is Benny’s,” Vicky says. “You’re gonna have to go to the city for fine dining. I don’t think the commute is worth.”

“Guess stripper is your best option,” Max nudges you.

You shoot a glare her way. “Very funny.”

"I know, I was joking," she scoffs. "Billy would kill you anyways."

Billy would literally go insane if you dared to work at a strip club. The slut-shaming would never end. Not that he never slut-shamed you anyway. There was always something for him to be misogynistic and hypocritical about.

Then it hits you. Billy isn't here. And you really need the money since in this day and age, $4,000 meant nothing. You peer over at the gentlemen's club one last time as it shrinks out of view the further Robin drives.

HELLFIRE.

-----------𓆩♡𓆪------------

Dungeons & Dragons.

Of course one of the very few strip clubs in Hawkins has to be the dorkiest.

But you understand the vision. Beyond the cobblestone entrance, the veil between real life and fantasy thins.

As you near the club with nothing but a purse and car keys in hand, you notice that there’s already security by the door. You’re surprised to see a leaner guy, tall and slender with soft blonde hair and a soft grin to match. He catches sight of you and greets you with a nod.

“Good afternoon,” he says. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you nod. You reach for your wallet and give him your ID. Typical screening process. “Yourself?”

“Not too shabby,” he replies.

He examines your ID card. You notice his surprise when his eyes slightly widen before retracting shortly after. You guess that he was wondering why you are here out of all places. You peer over at his name tag while he concludes his screening. Henry.

Upon verification of your identity, the friendly security guard returns your card to you.

“Let me give you a wrist band.”

He motions for you to hold an arm out. You extend your right arm to him and watch as he gracefully pulls a paper wristband out of his pocket, clasping it into place with the side that read “21+” facing upwards.

You take the time to admire the gentleness of this man. The softness of his face. His dreamy gaze.

“Any weapons on you?”

“Uh…” you stammer. “Just pepper spray?”

A laugh escapes from his nostrils. “That’s fine, my dear.”

“I hope I don’t have to use it.”

“Don’t worry, darling. Under my watch, you won’t.”

Henry gently strokes your hand before motioning you inside.

“Enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” you smile politely.

It’s a slow afternoon, but granted no one goes to a strip club at 2 PM. The Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club was comprehensively laced with playful innuendos. The accent wall by the entrance showcases an array of chains and handcuffs. Kukris, nun-chucks, and flails all of different variants and sizes are displayed on the walls, the point of balance being a vintage pulp print of a metal puppeteer. On the print, "OBEY YOUR MASTER" is written in edgy bubble letters.

Kinky.

And there’s a bonus of this themed club: the ladies are dressed in cloaks. You watch as beautiful women from all walks of life strut around the joint, leaving the clients with only their imagination to guess what’s underneath the tantalizing, medieval velvet.

There are LED signs that lit up corners of the space, indicating what they were for. KAS’ KORNER: GRAB A BITE, DRAGON'S BREATH: HOOKAH LOUNGE, and POTIONS — the bar.

You catch a glimpse of the private show rooms, or at least what you think are the private show rooms.

The LED sign to those rooms read, "I PUT A SPELL ON YOU AND NOW YOU'RE MINE."

The general seating area for the main event reads VECNA’S LAIR.

The Dungeon Master of this joint thought of every possible detail he could and ironed it into perfection.

Surely, someone who truly plays would adore every aspect of all the details, but it was evident that everyone came here for the same reason:

Girls, girls, girls.

You walk over to the bar to see two men conversing behind it.

One looked to be in his late 20s, with scruffy chestnut brown hair, some tired eyes, peach fuzz, and a patterned shirt decorated in a kaleidoscope of colors — a shirt meticulously calculated by quite possibly a girlfriend.

The other looked like he had another year left before being allowed to be behind that counter... of course judging by the “Hawkins High School class of 2021” on his insulated water bottle in his hand, a cracked iPhone in the other, and Beats with a small basketball sticker on it.

When you appear in their periphery, the conversation between the two gradually comes to a stop.

“Whoa,” the younger man hums. “New face. Welcome.”

“Hi. What do you recommend?”

“In terms of what?” the younger man questions slyly. There’s a timidness to the young man’s spirit, making his flirtatious demeanor somewhat dorky. The age appropriate bartender nudges him.

“Drinks, hotshot,” you refrain from chuckling. “Drinks.”

“Depends what you’re into,” the younger man replies, the slyness continuing. “If you’re into light liquors, Jonathan can make you a mean Cîroc with pineapple juice. But if you’re more into the dark stuff…”

He gestures up and down on himself.

“Then look no further.”

“That was very painful to listen to,” the older one who you assume is Jonathan cringes. “Can you get anymore corny?”

“Ta-ha!” the younger one tsks. “He said could I get any more corny. Can you get any more bitchless?”

“I have a girlfriend, Lucas.”

“Emphasis on the singular sense.”

“Nance is all I need.”

"Nancy is all you can pull," Lucas chuckles. "With that goofy ass shirt, man. Stop playing with me."

So you weren’t the only one who thought the shirt was absolutely ridiculous. It had "Bad Bitch Repellant" written all over it.

Jonathan whacks Lucas with the cloth that was sitting atop his shoulder. You request a double Tito’s straight on the rocks from Jonathan to which he automatically starts to make. Lucas continues to interrogate you.

“As you heard, my name is Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.” He extends his hands to you. “But my favorite ladies call me 'Dark Chocolate'. You can call me, 'The Man of Your Dreams' though.”

You take the youngster’s hand in yours and shake it. His heavy locker room cologne makes your nose swell, an uneven mix of what you believe is Axe and — is that Dior?

You tell Lucas your name then hit him with a, “But you can call me ‘When You’re Thirty’.”

Lucas laughs at your joke, beaming up at you as he does so. Then he nods to communicate a gracious fair enough. The flirting, you could sense, was in good nature, playful.

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs. “Do you have a younger sister by any chance?”

“Oh in your dreams, mister.”

Jonathan chuckles and rubs Lucas’s back.

"That’s enough man, can you go buss that table over there?"

Lucas gives a thumbs up before putting his Beats on and walking away. You divert your attention back to Jonathan who is now done with making your drink.

“Alright… I got a Tito’s double shot — straight — on the rocks,” Jonathan announces as he slides your vice on over. He studies you as you take the drink and request to keep the tab open. “I’m inclined to ask. Are you okay?”

When you’re not around Billy, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It wouldn’t hurt to trauma dump on a stranger. Especially one who asked.

“Pretty far from okay,” you answer before chugging it. “Can’t you tell? It’s 2PM and I’m consoling…” You slosh the drink around in your hand. “…my man Tito.”

“I see that.”

“It’s been a long day,” you continue. “It’s my second day in Hawkins so I thought I’d scope this place out. Dilly dally for a bit.”

“Second day?” Jonathan questions. “As in…ever?”

“Yeah, just moved here.”

The bartender looks around as if he’s missed something. “But…why?”

It’s a fair reaction. If the welcome sign is correct, Hawkins only has a population of 1,314 people. 1,316 now including you and Maxine.

“My friend lives here and convinced me to make the move,” is what you explain, though it only seems to make Jonathan more confused. “Couldn’t take the heat Cali was dishing out. Hawkins seemed like the perfect place to slow down.”

“Oh man,” Jonathan mutters. “California to here, what a change.”

“You lived here long?”

“Lived here my whole life,” he answers as a matter of factly.

“What made you get a job at Hellfire?”

Jonathan didn’t have to think. “I love booze.”

You laugh together, raising your half-empty class to clink his invisible one.

“I hate 9-5s,” Jonathan draws on. “Working from home ‘bout damn near drove me insane, don’t know how my mom does it with such ease. My boss here smokes me out on occasion and my friends make me nachos.” He smiles. “Can’t think of anything better.”

“There we go.”

"I’ve also just been looking out for women my whole life," he adds. "Bout time I get some financial compensation for it, no?"

“Amen to that,” You chug the last of your drink. “Thanks for your service.”

"Pleasure is mine. Anything else I can do for ya?"

You think. "Hm, probably not you, but maybe the hiring manager can do something for me."

"You're looking to work here?" he clarifies as you nod. "Oh sweet, you're going to wanna talk to Eddie. He's the owner."

"And a dweeb," says a significantly younger looking fellow as he slides into the conversation.

“Here we go.”

In front of you now is a gentleman around Lucas’s age with wild curly brown hair. You watch as he helps himself to a club soda, dunking three large wedges of lemon into his cup as well.

The guy offers you a playful, pearly white grin. “Eddie may own a nice club with some smokin' hot babes, but he's got no game whatsoever."

“Hey Dustin.”

“Sup, man.”

“You think so?" you challenge him.

"I know so,” the boy who you now know as Dustin insists. “Can't talk up a chick to save his life."

"Yeah," Jonathan says, half-jokingly. "He's the bitchless one."

Dustin glances between you both, slightly puzzled.

You shake your head. "No way."

"I wouldn't say he's that bad," Dustin says. "I actually think he's seeing someone casually. But in general, dude's got zero rizz."

"Projecting are we?" Jonathan nudges him.

“HELL. NO.” Dustin booms. You attempt to refrain from laughing. “My game is what got me the baddest gal at science camp. Eddie? Clumsy as hell, stutters on his words, he's got the anxiety level of someone who drinks cold brew on an empty stomach… Now that I say it out loud, I think he does drink cold brew on an empty stomach. Some chicks dig it though, which is good for him.”

Curly was fun to observe. Once he’s done talking down on the club owner, Dustin politely walks over and shakes your hand, bowing to you like you’re a princess of sorts. You later find it that like Lucas, Dustin works as a bus boy and server, and his girlfriend makes sure that he remains in Kas’ Korner at all times. Dustin has about two years left before legally being permitted behind the POTIONS bar, but that doesn’t stop him from using it as his own storage shed.

You watch as he grabs some deodorant and hair pomade from an old shoe box under the counter.

“Anyways, later,” Dustin holds up a peace sign, starting towards the door. “I'm not on today, I'm just hitting the gym with Steve."

“Later, man!” Jonathan calls after him.

“Deuces. Say hello to Dark Chocolate for me.”

Before he could get any further, the loud swinging of a door closeby causes him to halt in place.

“ALRIGHT!” a loud, gruff voice booms from that direction. “Which one of you shitheads forgot to take inventory on the 10th?!”

You can’t help but turn your body towards the ruckus. And to your own pleasant surprise, you don’t regret it. Emerging from the door comes the possible shift lead, a tall and broad man with medium length wavy brown hair, chocolate-colored, youthful doe eyes that contradicted the deep lines on his face, bleach white Chuck Taylor’s, ripped black jeans, and a Hellfire Club baseball tee with the logo smack-dab in the middle.

The man looked to be in his mid to late 20s, with an assertiveness in his stride. His lips, a perfectly formed bow with a smirk-like undertone. The cool rings that rest upon his fingers look icy as they sway at his side, shining in contrast to his dark clothing.

The man is too tunnel-visioned to see where he was going. But that doesn’t stop Dustin from looking absolutely mortified.

“The 10th and the 11th,” the man clarifies. “So for all we know, we might need new kegs and ground chili, which is one more thing I have to d-”

Finally he looks up, with you being the first thing he sees. Proximity taking him aback, he snaps out of his stress-induced trance and softens up at the sight of you. You meet his eyes, big and beautiful with long wispy lashes and you can’t help but mimic the flutter in your heart in the form of a smile.

“Whoa.” He says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Whoa, indeed.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s Eddie’s first day back, he tends to get a little in the zone,” Dustin explains.

Eddie.

Does that mean…

“Are you the hiring manager?”

You didn’t know who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in front of you. He must be proud of himself, having such a successful business so early in the game.

Eddie gathers himself quickly.

“Dungeon Master, hiring manager, manager, owner, sanitations, re-stocker,” Mr. Jack-of-all-trades confirms. “I do it all.” He grimaces at Dustin. "Since you know, some people don't wanna work."

"You said I can have off!" Dustin exclaims defensively. "I worked for you before the weekend already and I wasn’t even on the 10th and 11th, fuck outta here."

All it takes is a scowl his way from the boss and Dustin is radio silent. The look on Eddie's face definitely said "Watch your tone". Eyes are all on you once more soon after.

Eddie’s gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Were you…looking to apply?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “As a dancer. I’d like to perform here.”

“You don’t sound too confident.”

“Some guys like shy girls,” you shrug.

He laughs, a dark honey kind of laugh that just oozed from the back of his throat. “That they do.” His voice deepens drastically. Eddie studies you. “Any dancing experience?”

“Dancing, yes.”

“Stripping experience?”

“None.”

“Hm,” Eddie says. “What do you have experience in?”

“I danced for a bit…I have good core strength,” you explain vaguely. “And I’ve worked in the restaurant industry so I’d say customer service is my superpower.”

Eddie soaks in the information.

“I know how to talk to people,” you continue. “I know the right things to say. Favorite pass time is upselling drinks. And dessert…”

You wait for Eddie to take the low hanging fruit. He doesn’t.

"Any experience with the pole?”

Your cheeks grow hot. You decide to lie.

"No.”

“Kinda essential for this profession, sweetheart.”

"I know," you respond humbly. "I wouldn’t doubt it for a second..." you scan the room. “So uh, do I need a permit to perform here?”

“Nah, Hawkins is a lawless wasteland pretty much,” he sighs placing his hands on his hips. “And my club does things a little different anyways. The ladies also don’t pay to perform, we pay them to.”

Shit. Strippers pay to perform at venues?

“The dining experience is what brings the base revenue in,” Lucas explains, returning from wherever he had been. “The ladies are a luxury.”

“And should be treated as such,” Jonathan chimes in.

“I take it you don’t work at any other clubs?” Eddie questions judging by your wide eyes attempting to take in every bit of information that has been dumped on you. The man sees right through your mask.

“No, but I-”

“I personally like to give everyone a chance,” Eddie says. “So don’t worry babe, you’re good. Even though you don’t have any experience, your energy tells me that you have potential. Wanna show us what you can do?”

Your heart sinks. The handsome club owner called you babe. And you’re also being asked to perform with the little experience you have — in front of girls who had tons of experience.

“Here? Now?”

Eddie nods.

You weren’t prepared to dance today. But with your sister and the mountain of debt on your mind, you are willing to do anything. So you walk over to Jonathan and tell him what song you feel most comfortable performing to and stretch as he takes the time to find it. When all is said and done, you make your way to the icy pillar made of chrome steel that was calling for your attention.

You exhale deeply.

Back to the old stomping grounds. The last time you worked with a pole you were wearing Heeley’s and light up sneakers. Of course in place of the horny spectators there were playground supervisors, and the only “bars” there were monkey bars. Oh, and you were 8, not 28.

The slut-shaming still existed, though. One time a boy told you that you were acting like a ‘hoe’ for trying to do a trick upside down. To Billy’s retaliation though. Before you knew it, the same boy was being shoved down and dragged across the wood chips, acquiring a series of splinters along the way. Admin phoned home. You and Billy got spanked. But, of course, Billy had no regrets. While you both cooled off together, you remember him grazing your hand, telling you he’d beat that kid up “a gajillion times over”.

He kept that promise. Except as you two grew older, it was you he was doing it to. A gajillion times over.

You laugh at the bittersweet nostalgia.

“Whenever you’re ready, babe,” Eddie says.

You give Jonathan a thumbs up to play your song selection. Soon, Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club is filled with the catchy, seductive tune that is Layla by Eric Clapton.

You start with a small stroll around the pole. Then a dramatic dip to flaunt your bouncy golden locks. Soon, the women of Hellfire gather around with the men following soon after to watch you work your magic in Vecna’s crowded Lair.

If muscle memory is in your favor, they are in for a good show.

What will you do when you get lonely

No one waiting by your side?

You've been running, hiding much too long

You know it's just your foolish pride

Eddie claims a seat at a throne directly in front of the pole. He studies your technique, your movements, your facial expressions. You aren’t sure if reality is projecting onto you or if you’re dizzy from all the spinning, but you almost see a slight smile spread across the club owner’s face. It prompts you to keep going.

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

It’s a lot harder, your techniques and tricks. Most likely since you weigh more than 50 pounds now and had to exert more energy to keep yourself balanced an aligned. But nonetheless, you persist.

Tried to give you consolation

Your old man had let you down

Like a fool, I fell in love with you

You turned my whole world upside down

You buck your hips upward from you back arch to go into an upside down position. It earns you some hooting and cheering from the crowd.

“You better work, mamas!” a dancer cheers.

“I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT!”

“YOU GO GIRL!”

“YAAAS!”

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, I'm begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

Eddie watches intently, leaning backwards with his hands clasped forward. You feel his eyes burn through you, from the top of your head down to your toes. You feel as if he’s mentally scoring you like you’re at a competition, but the sisterhood that cheers you on makes you feel slightly less intimidated.

“SHE’S SO GOOD!” comes a high-pitched voice in the crowd. “I FREAKING LOVE HER!”

You turn to look at your own personal cheerleader, a bright-eyed cute little redhead with pigtails with an outfit that looks like an ode to Britney Spears’ “Hit Me Baby One More Time”. She has cherry hair ties that hold her two pigtails at the bottom.

You watch her clap and jump up and down, cheering you on with a beam in her eyes that made you feel like your souls have been friends for decades.

Motivated to attempt more risqué moves, you jump into the splits before kicking your legs around to end on your knees.

Clapping and whistling erupts from the lair. Once it dies down, Eddie stands up, offering you a delighted series of slow claps as he makes his way towards you.

"That was really good, Shy Girl. I like how you finished your set."

“Aw, thanks Eddie.”

He walks around you.

"Go like this?" Eddie does a stretching motion, lifting his hand up.

You imitate him and reach up.

"Okay, and... turn like this? Then pop your ass out a bit more."

The word rolled off the club owner's tongue like it was nothing. It was done in a way that was professional, a hint of respect in his tone with no sort of ulterior motive.

You swallow hard, attempting to internally tame the goosebumps on rising upon your skin. He’s just giving feedback, he’s just giving feedback. This is a professional line of work.

You do as he says as he circles around you, fingers grazing on the cool floor of the stage just inches away from your thighs. He taps them in thought.

"For a beginner you’re pretty damn good,” he says.

“Yeah?” you look up at him and smile.

“Yeah,” his voice deepens. “You’re a natural. All that shyness just went away.”

Well, it’s about to return, you think to yourself.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Not in this specific setting.”

There’s a slight shift in his eyes as his imagination wanders. The dimples at the side of his mouth concave slightly.

“I gotcha.”

Eddie clears his throat. “So uh, when can you start?”

Today is Wednesday. You have tomorrow, Friday, and the weekend to settle you and Max in and make any last minute stops. Then the appointment with the other loan officer and DMV appointment on Monday. Tuesday afternoons are dry — everywhere so that left the earliest you can start as

"Next Tuesday? In the evening?"

A soft snort escapes from the club owner’s nose.

"Driest night of the week," he comments, looking around his club.

He turns back to you.

"But a good time for orientation. Works for me, Shy Girl. Can I call you that?”

You smirk. “So I got the job?”

He nods.

“Then you can call me what you want,” you smile shaking his hand. “In this case I’m Shy Girl Hargrove.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles. He knows you’re flirting. Eddie accepts your hand and shakes it firmly.

“Eddie. Pleased to formally meet you. And welcome to Hellfire.”

You two exchange contact information for professional purposes before he leaves. You study Eddie as he sees himself out, planting a firm, teasing smack on Lucas’s stomach on his way and whispering something to Jonathan as well.

Your cheerleader from the crowd excitedly makes her way over.

“I know a dancer slash gymnast when I see one,” she chirps. “I’m Chrissy. Stage name is Cherry.”

You two shake hands and exchange further compliments with one another. Your heart swells when you realize you’re slowly starting to find community.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Others come and say hello, but you’ve tuned out all the faces because all you can think about is Eddie. His demeanor. The way he carries himself. His presence alone was something so intoxicating that it lingered around the place in his absence.

Your heart flutters.

“Oh, Hargrove!” Jonathan says. “Before you go I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry about the drink.”

“Oh?” you respond. “No?”

“Eddie says it’s on the house.”

You smile and Jonathan returns the favor, making sure you see him when he voids your entire tab. As you wave bye to all your spectators, you release a grateful sigh. You felt very humbled about this new, yet unexpected beginning.

The happiness soon wears off when the events that just unfolded dawn on you. Suddenly, the flutter in your heart moves to your stomach, settling in a way that feels eerie. The unknown is pestering you again. Wrong, but oh so right and necessary.

You take in the area around you. You have a place to call home. You’re a stripper now. Your boss just bought your drink. You’re going to have money coming in. Oh, and YOU’RE A STRIPPER NOW.

Then it dawns on you. You need to go shopping.

[waitimcomingtoo]

SLUT!

chapter seven: if he drops my name, then he had it coming

series masterlist

Peter sat in the library the next day at a table by himself. He was studying for chemistry by himself and couldn’t help but to look up at the empty seat beside him every so often. The very seat you used to occupy. Peter was missing you more than usual today now that Gwen had gotten into his head. He just wanted to know what happened that night at the party since he no longer believed what he saw was the full story.

“Hey, are you using this seat?” Some guys asked as he put his hands on the seat you usually sat in.

“No, you can….” Peter trailed off when he looked up. The guy asking for the chair was wearing the same hockey jersey as the guy Peter caught you in bed with. The guy realized he recognized Peter as well and smiled.

“Oh, hey. It’s you. You’re that nerd Y/n was sleeping with right? That flipped out at the party?”

“I was her boyfriend.” Peter corrected. “Until you came along, anyway.”

“Shit. You guys were actually dating? My bad. I thought you were just another one of her hook ups. I’m Shane, by the way.” Shane said and held out his hand. Peter reluctantly shook his hand and wished this guy would realize that he didn’t want to talk to the guy that broke up his relationship with

“Peter. And I wasn’t just a hookup. But you and I both know she isn’t like that anyway.” Peter mumbled and went back to his work.

“You’re right, you’re right. We’ve all been cracking these jokes about her for so long that I forget what’s real. How did you do it, anyway?”

“Do what?”

“How did you get her? Brads been trying for years. Why’d she go for you?” Shane wondered.

“Well it helped that I didn’t tell the whole school she was a slut. Or harass her for years. I was actually nice to her. After Brad made sure no one else ever was.” Peter snapped before remembering you had told him he was just like Brad. You were right, after all, since Peter called you a slut just like everybody else did.

“Yeah. Brads crazy like that. I mean, look at what he did at the party.” Shane said, pulling Peter out of his pity party. He put his pen down and looked up at him as panic stirred in his chest.

“What did he do at the party?”

“What do you mean? You were there. Remember the prank?”

“What prank?” Peter asked, starting to get angry over the vague answers.

“You’ll have to ask Brad for the whole story.” Shane waved his hand. “I drank too much and passed out while he was planning everything. Pink Whitney and chalupas do not mix, but the way. I didn’t wake up for 15 hours.”

“Wait, what? Did you…did you not sleep with Y/n?” Peter asked quietly.

“Sleep with her? Dude, I’ve never even met her.” He laughed. “Brad and his friends dragged me up the stairs after I passed out so that you would catch me in bed with her. He set her up so you guys would break up. You didn’t know that?”

“What?” Peter said so loudly that the librarian shushed him.

“Sorry dude. I figured she told you that by now.” Shane whispered and hid his face from the dirty look the librarian was giving him.

“Where is Brad right now?” Peter whispered harshly.

“Probably in the gym. There’s a home basketball game today. Why?”

Peter didn’t answer and grabbed his backpack before storming out of the library. He stomped all the way to the gym and threw the doors open. People turned and gasped as Peter marched into the middle of the gym.

“DAVIS!” Peter shouted angrily, making the sound of basketballs hitting the ground and sneakers screeching halt to a stop. Brad stopping dribbling and scoffed when he saw Peter.

“What do you want, dork?” He laughed as his teammates gathered around him.

“What happened at the party?” Peter demanded. Ned, who was watching the game in the bleachers, had a feeling he knew where this was going. He hopped off the bleacher and went up to the coach.

“Hey coach. I think this very civil and mature conversation might take a minute. Would you mind telling me about my chances of making the team next semester?” Ned asked the couch as he led him towards the gym doors.

“A guy like you? Have you thought about football?” The couch asked.

“Thats a really good point. Do you have any other points you’d like to make and explain in great detail right now?” Ned asked as he and the couch left the gym. Once there were no adults around, Brad didn’t hold back.

“Fuck off, Parker. We’re in the middle of a game.” Brad said and threw the ball towards the net. Peter caught the ball with one hand, getting a surprised murmur out of the guys.

“All right. Give me the ball.” Brad laughed in embarrassment and reached for the basketball. Peter moved it away at the last second, making Brad stumble forward. People in the crowd laughed as Brads team mates exchanged looks.

“Give me the ball, loser.” Brad repeated. “Don’t make me take it from you.”

“Can you take it from me?” Peter asked innocently. Brads jaw clenched and he lunged for the ball again but Peter quickly switched it to his other hand. The crowd laughed at Brad, only making him angrier. He tried to grab the ball a few more times but Peter was always quicker.

“Fine. What do you want?” Brad asked and tried his best to sound like he couldn’t care less.

“I want to know what happened at the party. What did you do to her?”

“Fuck you.” Brad scoffed. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Dude, just tell him so we can get back to the game.” Harry groaned. Brad gave him an angry look before returning his attention to Peter.

“Leave, Peter.” Brad demanded.

“No. Not until you tell me what happened.”

“I don’t have to tell you jack shit about what-“

“Brad asked her to come over to talk.” Harry interrupted. Peter looked at him in surprise and then looked at Brad for a further explanation.

“Shut the fuck up man.” Brad hissed.

“Why should I?” Harry asked. “I lost Gwen over this. Half the guys in the team got dumped because of your shit. I’m over it. Just tell the little nerd what you did so we can get back to the game.”

“What happened when she came over to talk?” Peter asked again. Brad looked at his teammates and then at the crowd before looking at the ground.

“I asked her to come over and implied that I was gonna apologize and make peace or whatever. She didn’t know there was a party going on. I knew she wouldn’t show up if she did.”

“Then what?” Peter demanded.

“Then we talked for a little bit and I offered her a ginger ale because I remembered it was her favorite soda from back when we were friends.” Brad said. He didn’t look up as he spoke but Peter could hear the faintest bit of regret in his voice.

“You should’ve seen her face when she realized I remembered, dude. She was so touched. She couldn’t believe I remembered something about her.” Brad laughed sadly as he finally looked up at Peter. There was remorse in his tone and all over his face but Peter could tell that he was trying to fight it. He didn’t want to feel bad for what he did because then he would have to admit it was wrong.

“What did you do?” Peter repeated. Brad looked at the crowd and shook his head.

“I’m not doing this here.” Brad shook his head. “I’m not saying shit.”

Peter threw the basketball at Brad and it hit him in the chest forcefully. Brad looked at Peter in shock and then angrily threw the ball back, which Peter caught.

“Why aren’t you talking, Brad? Did you do something you’re not proud of? Something you wouldn’t want all these people knowing about?” Peter asked as he started walking towards Brad.

“You better shut your mouth before I make you just as sorry as I made your little skank girlfriend.” Brad whispered for just Peter to hear.

“He slipped something in her drink.” Flash spoke up. Brad looked at Flash with betrayal and Flash just shrugged. When Peter heard this, the corner of his vision blackened. His blood felt hot in his veins. It took everything in him to not rip Brads head off right there but he needed to know more.

“I told you not to do it, man. I told you it was too far. But you insisted on getting her back. You couldn’t wait to do it that night so you might as well admit it now.” Flash said and held up his hands in defense. Everyone in the audience was staring at Brad with disgust now and he could feel each individual eye on him. He scanned the crowd and saw all their faces before looking at Peter.

At that moment, Peter snapped and lunged towards him. He grabbed a handful of Brads jersey and pulled him towards himself. Brad felt genuine fear in that moment and Peter could tell.

“You did what?” Peter asked through a clenched jaw. Brad gulped and looked back at his teammates. For the first time, they weren’t looking at him with the respect they usually had. Now, they looked embarrassed by him. Brad was the center of attention in the worst way and hated the way it made him feel.

“Relax, man.” Brad laughed nervously. “I didn’t touch her or anything. Nobody did. We’re not crazy. We were just joking. And I needed her knocked out so I could set her up.”

“Set her up how?” Peter asked and tightened his grip. Brad gulped again before putting on a look of false confidence.

“You two always call me stupid but what I did was actually really smart. I texted you from her phone and told you where she was so you could walk in and catch her “cheating”. You blew up on her like I knew you would and didn’t believe her when she tried to explain herself.”

Peter loosened his grip a little bit when he realized Brad was right. He’d become another one of the people on campus who hurt you by not believing you. When Brad realized he had gotten into Peter’s head, he grinned.

“But you know what I never expected? You calling her a slut. I didn’t think you had it in you, man. But you really delierved. She’s never gonna forgive you for that one. She probably hates you even more than she hates me.” Brad laughed obnoxiously. Peter felt his confidence in winning this argument slipping away the more he thought about what Brad was saying. If Peter had just heard you out, you’d still be together right now. There was no way you were going to forgive him now and he couldn’t even blame Brad for that part. What he could do, however, was get a little revenge for you.

“Did it hurt? When she rejected you all those years ago?” Peter asked Brad loud enough for the crowd to hear. Brads face reddened in embarrassment and he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Right. Obviously.” Peter mimicked. “Did it feel like this?”

Brad looked confused for a split second before Peter kicked him in the balls. Brads knees buckled and he crouched down, giving Peter the opportunity to punch him in the face. Brad fell to the floor and clutched his aching jaw.

“What the fuck? Are you kidding me right now?” Brad asked and tried to get up. Peter kicked him down and climbed on top of him before punching his face again.

“What are you doing?“ Brad shouted as blood ran from his nose.

“Tell everyone what you did!” Peter shouted back. “Tell them the truth about her.”

“Are you crazy? Let me go.” Brad said and struggled to get away from Peter, but Peter was too strong.

“Not until you admit it.” Peter demanded and punched him in the face again. Brads teammates just watched while the crowd pulled out their phones to record Peter beating the shit out of Brad. Peter was seeing red at this point and since no one was pulling him off of Brad, he just kept landing punches.

“ADMIT IT!” Peter shouted and gripped Brad by the shirt to lift his head off the ground.

“Fine! I lied about Y/n. I never slept with her. I made it up!” Brad cried as tears of fear ran down his face. He was finally feeling the fear you felt that day in the gym when Brad first gave you your reputation. It started in the gym and it was ending there.

“Why did you do it?” Peter growled.

“Because she rejected me and l wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me. So I made things up about her and called her names and my friends started it do it too. I do it because they do it and they do it because I do it and we’re all just a bunch of pigs. Is that what you wanted to hear? I call her a slut because cause I hate her and I hate her because I can’t have her. And I never stopped because no guy wanted anything to do with her so I never had to see her with anybody else. Until you. Are you happy now? Did you hear what you wanted to hear? I admit that I’m not a great guy. But you aren’t either. You’re just like me. We both suck and we both hurt ehr. So get off of me.” Brad said and pushed Peter off. Peter panted to catch his breath as he looked up at Brads teammates. He got off the ground and wiped his bloody knuckles on his shirt while staring them down.

“Anyone else have anything they’d like to confess?” Peter asked them. They exchanged looks with each other while Brad groaned in pain on the gym floor.

“I made it up. I never slept with her.” Flash admitted and then slapped one of his friends on the back of his head.

“I lied too.” The guy said. “I’ve never actually met her.”

In the most Mean Girls way possible, other guys on the team came forward one by one and admitted that they had lied about you. A few guys in the crowd did as well and earned themselves dirty looks from the girls around them. As Peter watched them admit the truth about you, he felt a weight lift off his chest. He knew he’d never be able to make things up to you but at least he got to watch you get your name back.

Unbeknownst to Peter, you were standing in the doorway of the gym and watching everything unfold. You had run to the gym when you heard there was a fight going on and were pleasantly surprised to see that Peter was the one doing the fighting. You watched the guys admit that they had lied about you and felt your “slut” label discard itself on the floor next to Brad Davis and his bloody nose. You knew that when you left the gym that day, you’d finally be able to leave your reputation behind. And that felt pretty great.

Two teachers and campus security burst past you suddenly and rushed to Peter. The security guard grabbed Peter by the arm and cuffed him before leading him towards the door you were standing beside.

“You’re so getting kicked out!” Brad called after him. Peter made eye contact with you as he was being escorted off campus and cracked a smile.

“It was worth it.” He said.

Tag List 💋

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@ilikestrawberriesandwomen @bubblegumholland @starsval @changingdonnie

[toniiswrld]

mx ☆ p.wb - 02

wonbin x fem reader

you bump into a hot guy at a band concert, but what happens when you realize the hot guy is a member of the band?

🎸 cw. foul language

“dude where the fuck have you been? we go on in 15” shotaros already yelling before wonbin can fully walk into the room.

“probably lurking through the crowd again to find his next hookup,” seunghan chimes into the conversation, earning laughs in agreement from sohee and anton.

“ill have you all know i was going to get a drink at the bar, i’m not the slut you guys want me to be so bad” wonbin crosses his arms over his chest, trying (but failing) to beat the slut allegations.

“sure you aren’t wonbin,” eunseok rolls his eyes at the boy, knowing well enough what wonbins true intentions are whenever he’s just ‘going to the bar’

“oh don’t act like you’re better than me, eunseok. didn’t you have some girl over last night?” he scoffs, the attitude he tried so hard to hold back slipping.

“okay first of all, she’s not just ‘some girl’, we’ve been dating for a month now. a concept you wouldn’t be able to understand” oohs can be heard across the room, the rest of the boys suddenly invested in eunseok and wonbins little argument.

“okay mr loverboy, not my fault i don’t wanna be tired down at 22”

“you’re going to let the right girl slip through your fingers if you keep fucking around, wonbin” eunseok doesn’t want to fight, but he is getting tired of his friends bullshit. the amount of girls he’s taken home within the last year was insane, he’s seen some really nice girls lose themselves in wonbin, changing their whole personalities for him, all for him to push them to the side for someone else. wonbin would one day realize his actions have consequences and he’s stopping himself from experiencing romance.

“you guys can argue later, we go on in 5” shotaro sighs as he gathers himself and the rest of the boys to get ready to get on stage. everyone does a quick touchup on their outfits and hair, wonbin keeping his arms crossed up until they get on stage.

eunseok doesn’t know anything, wonbin grumbles to himself as he picks up his bass, squinting as the stage lights turn on and he shakes his thoughts once he hears the uproar from the crowd.

he couldn’t worry about romance when the feeling he got from being on stage was something nothing could ever compare to. he didn’t want to be tied down when he had a crowd to please, and he has endless girls falling at his feet, so why would he stop that to be with just one person?

throughout the show, his mind kept going to the girl he bumped into at the bar. she was so beautiful, her skin glowed in the dim venue lighting and she had this vibe to her that was almost intimidating, but he didn’t want her to walk away. it was alluring, the way you didn’t throw yourself at him like everyone else who likes him, because they knew him already, they know he’s famous. what if once you figured out that he’s part of the band and you lose interest?

he tries to look for you in the crowd, he spots you for a brief moment but your eyes are focused on someone else, and when his eyes travel across the crowd he isn’t able to find you again.

he wishes he had gotten your name, only knowing you by princess, the name he had given you. so all he could do now was hope you would come to more shows, and hope that he would be able to get you alone.

m.list | previous | next

a/n: short little chapter from wonbins pov… actual juicy stuff coming in the next chapter i promise 🫣

taglist: @starwonb1n @drinktaro @kyusqult @murariki @helovalley @miyawakiblossoms @nishimuraii @snoopyana @blooqz @bunni @b-riize @daegale @sunwoosberrie @rosesfortaro

reply to the masterlist or send in an ask to be added to the taglist !

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 24)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris is now High Lord, but the three of you have a serious talk

warnings: Feysand slander, tooth-rotting fluff and adorableness to make up for the emotional last few chapters

word count: 5.5k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: to those of you who thought the last chapter was the end, do not fear! There's still 5-10 more chapters to go. But the poor reader finally gets a break. This is a chill chapter with lots of fluff as a little treat, enjoy

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23

read on ao3

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It had been three days since Eris killed Beron in the dungeons. After it was done, the new High Lord ordered Azriel to take you to your room, where you would be guarded and seen by servants for your injuries. You had protested, wanting to join your mates in dealing with the aftermath of the days’ events, but were quickly shot down.

“Absolutely not.” Eris had said sternly. “You have been beaten senseless and need time to heal. There are going to be lots of angry individuals and people attempting to challenge me, and I will not have you anywhere near that. We will find you when things settle down, I promise.”

Additionally, he had mentioned that he would be blaming his father and brother’s death on Hybern assassins – they had snuck into the castle in an attempt to wipe out the Vanserra bloodline while they slept. The story was that Beron had been slain during his late night walk around the dungeons, the assassins had attempted to kill you as well, but Malgorm died defending you. Hence an explanation for your injuries and a way to keep you sheltered from the chaos of Eris’s transition to High Lord.

The idea that Malgorm would be perceived as a noble hero in the narrative made you roll your eyes, but Eris assured you that there wasn’t a single individual in this court who didn’t know how vile Malgorm truly was. It made you feel slightly better.

You had been bored out of your mind for the past three days. Your injuries were almost fully healed, thanks to the work of the healers. Nesta had come to visit you a few times, brushing your hair or holding you in her arms until you fell asleep again. You yearned for the additional comfort of Eris’s presence, but he was understandably busy. Nesta insisted he was remorseful for his lack of time to see you, but you could feel it through the bond already.

Part of you was still angry with Eris for hiding his knowledge of the bond. Deep down, you knew he did it out of concern for your safety, but even though you had come to terms with the idea of Eris being your mate, the betrayal still stung. You tried to ignore it – Eris had worked so hard and sacrificed so much to help you and Nesta, the least you could do was give him the benefit of the doubt. But with everything that had happened, there hadn’t been a good time to talk about it with him yet.

Lirilla had also paid you one or two visits over the past three days. She had thanked you over a dozen times, tearfully expressing how she owed you an eternal debt for bringing her back at the cost of never seeing your own mother again if you were to die. You had teared up in response, a hundred different emotions running through you. At first, you had expected to feel some faint resentment, knowing your mother’s soul had brought back the Lady of Autumn.

But there was none. In fact, you had an opportunity few others had – to say a proper goodbye to a departed loved one, and have one final moment wrapped in their embrace. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t cried into your pillow several times over the memory, clinging onto it as if it would fade away into the breeze. But somehow, having Lirilla alive and present helped you.

Night began to fall on the third day since Beron’s death, and it took you great effort to pry yourself out of the warm bubble bath a servant had drawn from you. Lavender and mint clung to your scent from the healing soaps you had used to scrub yourself raw, still feeling the sticky sensation of Malgorm’s blood being painted over you. No matter how many times you bathed, it wouldn’t go away.

After putting on a pale grey nightgown, you settled into bed to read when a soft knock sounded at your door. The inside of your chest warmed and fluttered like a cat purring, and you felt the bond glow with happiness. You knew who it was before the door even opened. “Come in, Nesta.” You called out, propping yourself up on the lush green pillows.

Nesta entered your room, still wearing her dark red dress from dinner. Half her hair was pulled back into a braid, the other half cascading down her back in elegant waves. In her hand was a plate of fresh strawberries, the unmistakable rich smell of chocolate coming from the small bowl beside the fruit. 

Your mouth watered. “Please tell me those are for me.” 

“No, I brought them all this way just to make you watch me eat them in front of you.” Nesta said dryly, closing the door behind her. “Of course they’re for you. I snagged them from dessert. Figured you’d want some.”

“Obviously.” You said, shifting more to the centre of the bed and patting the space next to you. The bed was absolutely massive, leaving tons of room for the female to come sit beside you. After kicking off her shoes and sliding under the thick covers, she settled the plate carefully on her lap. Wordlessly, you curled into Nesta’s side, resting your head on her chest and sighing contently. Slender fingers came up to tangle themselves in your hair, gently caressing the locks. Nesta’s free hand reached down and grabbed a strawberry, dipping it in the chocolate before bringing it to your lips. Eagerly, you lifted your head slightly and moaned as warm dark chocolate hit your tongue, along with the sweet taste of the freshest strawberry you’d ever had. 

“Mmm…” You mumbled, swallowing the delicacy. “I could die happy right now.”

With the hand that was stroking your hair, Nesta smacked you lightly. “Don’t you dare even joke about that,” She scolded. “You’ve had too many close calls for that to be even remotely funny.”

“Whatever. Feed me another chocolate covered strawberry and I’ll shut up about it.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but obliged, and you rested your head back on her chest after swallowing. You couldn’t help but notice how different she was now from when you first met her in the House of Wind. Her body had filled out, soft flesh hiding the brittle bones that used to stick out from underneath her pale skin. For Nesta to be relaxed enough to be this close to you as a huge change. She was not on edge, body tense and flinching with every shift in movement. Even when you had tentatively held her hand or brushed your knee against hers while in the Night Court, she seemed afraid of the contact, always tensing before relaxing into you.

Now, she showed no signs of anxiety. You knew that physical touch was not something that Nesta was used to, but you could tell through the bond that she was comfortable doing it with you. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” Nesta asked, noting your silence.

“You.” You said truthfully.

She snorted. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’re different now.” You admitted, choosing your words carefully. 

But her voice was curious, not defensive as she spoke. “How so?”

“I feel like you’re more… you. You’re not putting up a wall anymore. You seem more comfortable in your own skin, that’s all.”

You felt Nesta rest her cheek on the top of your head. “I do. You’ve helped me with that.”

You shook your head. “No, Nesta. That was all you.”

“Perhaps. But you being there by my side throughout all of this has helped.”

You hesitated before asking the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now. “Do you have any regrets about doing this?”

A moment of silence filled the room. Part of you had constantly asked yourself if you were dragging Nesta into your plan too much. As much as you knew she wanted out of the Night Court, to switch courts so quickly after having her entire life uprooted by the Cauldron was a drastic change. 

“No.” Nesta said confidently. “Not for a second. I have no desire to return to the Night Court. While I will always love my sisters, it is clear that they care about their image more than what is truly best for me. I have no place there in their little found family, and that does not bring me any sadness. Now, I am free to make my own decisions free of their scrutiny, and that brings me comfort. So no, I don’t regret taking this journey with you.”

You closed your eyes, the rhythmic stroking of Nesta’s fingers through your hair making you tired. “We have to talk about Cassian at some point. About all of us, about what comes next.”

You felt Nesta sigh. You knew she didn’t want to talk about Cassian, and neither did you. But he was convinced that he is Nesta’s mate, something that could potentially bring a threat. If he invoked a blood duel, Eris would certainly win with his new power as High Lord. But you? You stood no chance against the Lord of Bloodshed.

“You’re right.” Nesta said slowly. “But I think we need to wait for Eris before we have this conversation. It involves him, too.”

“You’re right. When will I get to see him?”

“He said he’d come here after his last meeting. He should be here soon.”

You sat up, reaching for the plate and grabbing another chocolate covered strawberry. You felt a bit of the chocolate smear on the side of your lip as you ungracefully popped the strawberry into your mouth, attempting to keep the expensive duvet free of mess. 

“You’ve got something on your face.” Nesta snorted.

You rolled your eyes at her. “Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you so much for pointing–”

Your sentence trailed off as Nesta reached down and slowly wiped the chocolate off your lip with her finger. You watched with wide eyes as she then took that chocolate covered finger and closed her lips around it, sucking the chocolate off. Her blue-grey eyes never left yours as she did so, making your body tingle.

“That was one of the top five hottest things you've done.” You said, causing Nesta to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, you have a list now, do you?” She murmured, amusement across her sharp face.

You shrugged nonchalantly, but heat flooded your cheeks. Truthfully, everything Nesta did was absolutely mesmerising to you. It was almost impossible to actually think of five moments that stood out. “Maybe.” Was all you mumbled in response.

Nesta simply chuckled, then leaned down and sensually pressed her lips to yours. You moaned into her mouth, melting into the touch. It was different from the tender two kisses you shared previously – ones that were gentle and soft, as if you were both afraid that the other would disappear from in front of you at any moment. No, this kiss was more passionate, sending goosebumps up your arms despite the warmth of the room. She tasted like chocolate and wine, and it took all your self control not to simply melt right there and then.

When Nesta eventually pulled away, she cradled your head back into her chest. You were so comfortable, encased in the expensive fabric of the lush bedsheets and cuddled up against Nesta’s side. A distinct knock on the door snapped you back to consciousness. “Three guesses who that is.” You muttered groggily.

Nesta snorted, but called out, “Come in, Eris.” 

Surely enough, the door swung open to reveal Eris. His red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he was dressed in his sleepwear of a white tunic with long, billowy sleeves tucked into loose brown pants. Despite the casual look, the soft hum of power coming from the male made it hard to mistake him as anything other than a High Lord.

“How’d you know it was me?” Eris asked, closing the door behind him as he sauntered into your room.

“Oh please, you knock like a pampered princess.” You said playfully, popping another strawberry in your mouth.

Eris narrowed his eyes at the delicately placed bowl of melted chocolate on Nesta’s thigh. “Please tell me you’re not getting chocolate on my expensive bed sheets.” 

“You’re High Lord, can’t you just use your fancy new power to remove any spills?” 

“Ugh, please don’t remind him he’s High Lord.” Nesta insisted, rolling her eyes. “It’ll get to that pretty head of his and he’ll become even more insufferable than he already is. Besides, he hardly needs reminding with how much he throws his new title in everyone’s faces every two seconds.”

You laughed, causing Eris to look down at you from where he was standing at the end of the bed, pressing a pale hand to his chest with mock hurt. “Your cruelty wounds me,” He sighed. “I do not know what I did to deserve such treatment.”

“You make it too easy.” You patted the space next to you on your other side. Eris scoffed, but peeled back the covers and crawled under them anyway, sliding right next to you and resting his back against one of the many pillows behind you. You leaned forward and grabbed another chocolate covered strawberry, bringing it up in front of his face. “Here you go, oh mighty High Lord.” You said dramatically.

The male raised an eyebrow, but kept his amber eyes on yours as he leaned forward and gently took the fruit from your hand with his mouth, lips brushing your fingers ever so slightly. You suppressed a shiver at the sensation, trying to ignore Eris’s moan as he savoured the rich chocolate. You straightened up, no longer leaning against Nesta’s chest but instead still keeping your shoulder pressed against hers.

“Delicious.” Eris muttered after swallowing. “And exactly what I needed after today.”

“What did you get up to today?” You asked. “Or any of the past three days, since I haven’t been allowed outside of this room to see for myself.”

Eris shot you a light glare. “As both of us have explained to you several times, you are in here because we need to wait until things settle for a few days. Right now, you are vulnerable. Both physically and in terms of your position as an unwed and unengaged female. While I intend to eliminate anyone with the same mindset as my father regarding females of your status who refuse to change, they might not yet be revealing themselves. Many have tried to challenge me these past few days, and every one of them has been turned to ash. I need to ensure nobody will come after you.”

You sighed, knowing Eris was right. A female like you without ties to a male would be an easy target for those looking to cling to Beron’s ways. You briefly wondered exactly how many people Eris had slain in his first few days of being High Lord, but dared not ask. “Did everyone believe the story about Hybern assassins being responsible?” You chose to ask instead.

“Mostly.” Eris said. “Those who seemed suspicious have been dealt with. But it matters not. I am High Lord now, and the court knows that if they dare question how I came to be in this position, they will not live to see the next sunrise.”

“So what happens now?” Nesta spoke up. “With the three of us, I mean. And we still have the Night Court to deal with, not to mention Cassian.”

“Given your sister’s situation with her pregnancy, I believe the Night Court will be occupied by that for the next while.” Eris said. “She is due soon, is she not?”

Nesta nodded, but said nothing. 

“Can we help Feyre?” You asked hesitantly, feeling Nesta’s turmoil through the bond. While she did not part on good terms with her sister, you could tell she felt anguish at the idea of Feyre dying because of this pregnancy. And as much as you disliked the High Lady, you did not wish such a fate upon her either.

Eris spoke with caution. “I have spoken with our best healers. And to be truthful, yes, we have the means of removing the baby surgically rather than having little Archeron try to deliver the child naturally. But I do not think it’s a question of whether or not we can, but whether or not we should.”

You blinked in surprise, feeling Nesta tense beside you. “What do you mean?” You asked. “If we have a way to save her life, why not use it?”

Eris shifted slightly, turning on his side to face you. “Because it is leverage we can use against them. A bargaining tool. We could promise to save the High Lady’s life on the condition that they leave us alone, permanently. That they are never to enter our court without permission, including the brute.”

You bit your tongue. Nesta was silent beside you, her expression unreadable. “Nesta?” You asked quietly, pressing your arm into her. “What do you think we should do?”

There was a minute of silence before she straightened her spine, grey eyes finally landing on you and Eris as she spoke. “The Feyre I knew who went under the mountain is gone.” She said, her voice like steel. “Once she accepted the mating bond, she changed. Rhys changed her. The Feyre I knew would never just sit by and let her mate make the decisions for her. The Feyre I knew would never have sent me to be locked up if Rhys hadn’t planted the idea in her head first. She used Elain as a bargaining chip to strong arm me into doing her bidding. If she has no qualms about using our lives for her own gain, then I have no issue doing the same with hers. But under one condition. Feyre has to agree to it. Hers is the only opinion that matters. Rhys cannot accept the terms, only she can. It will be her choice, and her choice alone.”

Eris nodded respectfully. “Very well then. Once everything settles further over the next week or so, I will set up a meeting with the Night Court and we can propose our bargain.”

“Cassian can’t be there.” Nesta said suddenly. “I can’t see him. Please.”

“We won’t let him try and take you,” You grabbed her hand, holding it reassuringly. “I promise.”

Nesta bit her lip, worry lining her features. “He thinks we’re mates. I don’t trust him not to try something.”

“Cassian does not stand a chance against us.” Eris said calmly, fiddling with the emerald ring on his finger. “Although I am curious as to why he is acting like a mated male when Estelle said he is not mated to you, Nesta. There’s something else at work here, maybe having him at the meeting will allow us to figure out what it is.”

Nesta hesitated, but exhaled softly. “Fine. Cassian can be there. But the dragons will come to the meeting.”

“They will be delighted.” Eris chuckled. “I am sure they will happily eat anyone who dares protest against our lovely mating bonds.”

You went still, the soft sheets of the bed suddenly stifling. Aside from your brief moment after saving Lirilla, you hadn’t yet acknowledged or discussed your mating bond with Eris yet. With Nesta it was easier, as you had plenty more time together to mull things over. But with Eris, it all happened so fast. The High Lord duties swept him away from you before you could even propose the discussion.

“Eris…” You said carefully after a few moments. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew we were mates?”

At first, the male did not reply. Eris Vanserra usually had a witty reply for everything, a silver tongue that came up with a response within a half second no matter how unprepared he was for the question. So you turned to face him. Eris’s expression was one of regret, tender sadness in his usually stone cold eyes. But the mask was off. He had no need for it anymore.

“There were so many things happening at once.” Eris said slowly. “I did not know how you would react, truthfully. We all needed to be focused, just until we were safe from my father. I did not want to risk compromising what I’ve been working towards for years. It is selfish, I am well aware. But it is the truth. If you knew about the bond, who knows how different things could have been? And if anyone found out, it would be used against us. I could not let that happen.”

The High Lord swallowed thickly, his slender hand gently coming to cover your fingers as he continued. “I know what a breach of trust this was, little fox, especially after you put your faith in me. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it, because I selfishly cannot stand the idea of you hating me for it.” 

You inhaled a shaky breath, wetness lining your eyes. You felt Nesta rubbing your back comfortingly, as if she, too, felt your pain through the bond. “I don’t hate you for it.” You said quietly. “I understand your reasoning, I just wish none of this had to be this way.”

Eris smiled sadly. “I wish that very much, too. Although this path has led me to you, to Nesta. So despite everything, I have no other regrets about how things played out.”

“Me too.” Nesta said from behind you, squeezing your shoulder. “It was all worth it to get out of that situation, to end up with both of you.”

Your heart fluttered as you smiled. Even though the past months have been hell, they lead you to Nesta and Eris. Everything you had been through, it was all worth it to get here. Because you knew that even though the horrors you had endured would keep you up at night, you’d have your mates to ease the pain.

But your smile faded as reality sunk back in. “What about the wedding?” You asked. “If you two are getting married, where does that leave me? I know marriage is a sham at the end of the day, and the mating bond is what truly connects us. But I admit that I will not feel like an equal if you two are wed.”

You felt the bed shift as Eris straightened beside you. A hint of a blush came over his cheeks as he coughed before speaking. “Well, I thought of a solution for that. It’s a bit outlandish, and something that would definitely make the majority of this court lose their minds over it. And don’t be afraid to tell me I am a fool for this, Mother knows everyone else will be–”

“Eris.” Nesta said sharply, cutting off the male’s rambling. “Spit it out already.”

You could feel Eris’s nerves in your chest as if they were your own. You had never seen him so flustered before, so unsure of what to say. 

“Well,” He continued, taking a deep breath. “It is not unheard of in Pythian’s history for a High Lord to take two wives…”

“You’d want to marry both of us?” Nesta said incredulously.

Eris blushed further, his eyes narrowing angrily at the heat of his cheeks. “Well, it would be a good way to ensure you are both protected–”

“Stop.” You cut him off firmly, squeezing his hand. Eris was silenced immediately, doubt flickering in his eyes as if he were afraid this would happen. “Fuck the political scheming and doing everything for the sake of a plan. We’ve made it this far, guys. It’s time to think about what we want, not what we should do. So, Eris, what do you want?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have you both as my wives…”

Nesta snorted. “A heartfelt proposal, Eris. Well done.”

Eris shot a playful glare at the female. “Smartass. Watch it, or I’ll leave your finger without a ring and keep (Y/N) all to myself.”

“Oh, please. You’re too obsessed with me to do that.”

“I am afraid you are right, Nesta Archeron.”

The three of you laughed, the harmony of it echoing throughout the spacious room like a song. But Nesta’s serious tone returned, cutting the laughter off. “But seriously, Eris, are you proposing this because this is what you want, or because of the mating bond?”

Eris shifted as he reached forward, taking each of you and Nesta’s hands in his own. The authority of the High Lord rang in his voice as he spoke, his amber eyes meeting Nesta’s blue-grey ones. “Make no mistake, I am happy about the mating bond. But it does not create this desire from nothing. It merely amplifies what is already there. The desire to marry you, Nesta, began the day we danced together in the Hewn City. I knew then that I wanted you as my equal at my side. I wanted you because you were you, sharp tongue and all, not because a mating bond made it be so.” 

Eris then turned to face you. “The desire to marry you, (Y/N), began the day you came to me with your plan. I saw your resilience, your brilliant mind, and I wanted you. Not for your magic, or your connection to the Mother. I didn’t even know you were my mate then, or that you possessed a unique power, and I wanted you. My desire for both of you did not come from wanting something from you, or because of a mating bond. You asked me what I wanted, (Y/N), and this is it. I want you and Nesta as my equals, my wives, my High Ladies by my side. If that is what you wish, of course.”

You teared up, seeing Nesta do the same. Eris spoke so fiercely, so passionately it pulled at your heart strings. All this time, you had prepared yourself to see Eris and Nesta marry for political convenience, leaving you on the side with your secret ancient vows to Nesta that could never be shared with the outside world. You had prepared yourself to put aside your feelings for Eris, and your feelings for Nesta, to once again make a sacrifice for the ones you loved.

But you didn’t have to do that. Somehow, along the way Nesta and Eris had fallen for each other. And you had fallen for Eris, and he for you. The bond the three of you shared was deeper than any mating bond – it was a bond of survival, of fighting for a better life. A life you now couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone else.

“I would like that very much.” You said through tears, squeezing Eris’s hand.

“And I as well.” Nesta said softly. “Although I never thought of being High Lady.”

“You are both free to pass on that,” Eris said. “It would simply be an added bonus. But you both have enough power to be my equal as High Ladies, and you would be free to be as involved or removed from court politics as you wish.”

You glanced at Nesta, meeting her eyes. You knew Nesta had never possessed any ambitions to become a leader. She was content to simply exist in her own life, as long as she had control over it.

But this opportunity Eris was presenting could be used to help people. All you wanted was to make Autumn safe for females in a way Rhysand failed to do with his own court. Perhaps instead of relying on Eris to make it happen, you could do it yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You said.

“Me neither.” Nesta replied, nodding. “If my sister can be High Lady, so can I.”

“Feyre Archeron does not know how to run a court,” Eris snorted. “You’re the sister much better suited to the job.”

“One more thing.” You interjected, turning to Nesta. “Technically, we are already married due to the spell we used to create the daemati bond. But I would like to redo it, with a proper wedding. That way, the world will know that we aren’t just married to Eris, but to each other as well. I want everyone to know you’re just as much mine as Eris’s. If you’ll have me.”

It was not how you could have ever imagined proposing to Nesta, fumbling over your words so casually as if you were suggesting trying a new food for lunch. But it felt right. You wanted to be married to Nesta properly, in the eyes of the world. True, you had known her for less than a year. But you knew in your heart you would want to marry her eventually – why not now while she was already marrying Eris?

Nesta’s lips twitched for a second, as if she were instinctively fighting off her smile. But then her face loosened, and she allowed her smile to stretch across her cheeks fully. “Of course I’ll have you, you fool.” She said softly. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

“In that case, I shall inform the priestess so she can modify the ceremony.” Eris said, grinning in a way that made your heart sing. “If my father could see this, he would lose his mind. As will many members of the court, probably. Having two High Ladies married to each other and me will be a lot for them to comprehend.”

“It’s actually possible, right?” Nesta asked him. “For all three of us to be married?”

“There is no law or religious text that prevents it, my dear.” Eris reassured her. “It will be legitimate, I swear.”

You smiled, another tear of happiness slipping down your cheek. “So this is really happening, we’re all getting married?”

Eris nodded. “Yes, love. We are. And we can take as much time as we want to plan the wedding so it’s exactly how we want it, not how my father wanted it to be. It will be a day about all three of us.”

It was like a heavy boulder had been lifted off your chest. All of the anxiety of the past few weeks was gone, replaced by pure happiness at the idea of marrying Nesta and Eris. Before, the talk of a wedding filled you with dread, a reminder that you were engaged to a cruel male who would delight in torturing you however he could. The idea of a wedding made you feel sick, and sad at the same time knowing you’d have no say in any of the planning.

But with Eris as High Lord and your soon to be new position as High Lady, everything would be different. You would be able to pick out your dress, the flowers, the cake, everything. After months and months of having no control over your life, you were finally taking the reins back.

You wrapped your arms around Eris, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “Thank you.” You muttered.

When Eris pulled away, his amber eyes burned into yours. It ignited something in you, making your blood sing as his voice dropped as he spoke. “I know by tradition I am supposed to wait until the wedding to kiss my brides. But I would really like to kiss you now. Both of you.”

“Fine by me.” You said, your heart racing and drowning out the sound of your own voice.

Eris smirked, his hands coming up to either side of your face to cup your jaw. Towering over you, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your own. Instantly, it was like a tidal wave of lust surged through the bond, as you melted into his mouth. It wasn’t the seductive, claiming kiss you had expected an Autumn court male like Eris to give. It was just as sensual, but softer, like a warm hearth rather than blazing wildfire. It was a kiss of love, of promise for a better world.

Your hands brushed the fabric of Eris’s tunic as he kissed you, and you felt the male shiver beneath your touch. When his lips finally abandoned yours, you let out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” Eris purred, his thumb stroking your cheek. “There will be plenty of time for more later.”

 The High Lord then turned towards Nesta, taking her hands in his own. You watched as he leaned forward, kissing her with the same tenderness he had with you. Nesta’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact, her body relaxing. They were like a scene from a painting. Nesta’s wavy locks contrasting with the fiery straight hair of Eris, their heads angled so perfectly as their lips moulded together with longing. 

As you watched your mates kiss, you felt no jealousy. No anger. No feeling of exclusion. You only felt love – happiness that the two people you cared for most loved each other just as much as you loved them.

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[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Evermore - Part 5

Summary: It's been 7 years since the love of your life left you behind for his career. When he decides to return is it too late to start anew? Will you decide to start over or realize what's been in front of you this whole time?

Chapter Summary: Eddie sees a few old faces and starts to realize that maybe his actions have consequences.

Warnings: Angst. Bad feelings. Per usual, Eddie turns to drugs/alcohol to numb/avoid his feelings. AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

You and Steve had fallen asleep on the couch. The movie ended and the VCR started to auto rewind the tape, the small noise in the otherwise quiet space roused you awake. You were curled into him, head still resting on his chest, arm wrapped around his torso while his was slung over you, hand resting on your hip.

He was leaning back on the couch, mouth slightly ajar from the angle with small snores escaping his sleeping form with his glasses still perched on his nose. He hated the way he looked in them, though you frequently assured him he was still just as devastatingly handsome.   

Looking so peaceful you didn’t want to wake him, but your back was now screaming at you to move from being crouched over in the somewhat awkward position for so long.

“Stevie,” softly speaking his name, shaking him slightly where your hand rested on his stomach. He shifted a bit more toward you gripping your side, pulling you closer to him with a small “hmph” escaping his now slightly parted lips.

“Stevie, wake up. We fell asleep.” You spoke a little more loudly this time. Your voice stirred him awake, only then releasing the death grip he held you in.

Finally able to stretch your achy muscles, moving away from him as he sat up, taking the glasses from his face rubbing his eyes and face.

“Shit, what time is it?” he spoke, while he brought his wrist up trying to focus. “Shit” he muttered again before you could find the clock to answer him.

“I told Robin I’d pick Maddie up 15 minutes ago,” sighing, putting his glasses back on. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to call.”  

You laugh knowing it’s true. Robin is a chronic worrier.

Laying a hand to your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze as he rose. Stretching, with his shirt riding up exposing the sliver of skin below his navel, his dark hair that your eyes drifted to where you know it trailed further hidden beneath his sweats. You looked away before he noticed where your gaze had landed.

“Hey,” looking up at him then, his warm honey hued eyes caught yours, “you’re welcome to come with. You can stay over mine tonight.”

Reaching up for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze as you spoke, “I’ll be ok for at least one night. I’ve got to take inventory since I’m watching Maddie tomorrow.”

He squeezed back, harder than you had. “If, you’re sure.”

“Course Steve, I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He nods, releasing your hand, albeit a little reluctantly, bending down with a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“See you tomorrow,” he gathers his things and heads out the door but not without sparing another disquieting glance your way, chewing his bottom lip just a bit. He looked like he was about to say something, lips parting slightly but instead shook his head lightly, then smiling before closing the door.

You were alone once with your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You were spiraling and this isn’t what you wanted to happen. For the last few hours, Steve served as a nice distraction. You could imagine that Eddie had never shown back up and all was right with the world. You were over him, so why was seeing him today so difficult?

“Nope!” you yelled into the expanse of the empty house. Inventory was going to happen a little earlier than usual.

Eddie had made it an entire 30 minutes in the Hideout parking lot before he was completely bored out of his mind, which by his standards may have been a record for sitting still.

He noticed the coffee shop across the street was open and lively, so he thought he’d grab a cup and stroll around downtown for a bit. Just another couple of hours before he could binge away the day and probably most of the night. He was already planning on leaving tomorrow anyway, why not go out with a bang?

The little coffee shop was named ‘Peaches and Cream’. He supposed it was appropriate, everything else in this God forsaken town reminded him of his failings and regrets.

He walked in as the bell above his head announced his arrival with a small chime. It drew the attention of some of the people sitting around already enjoying their steaming cups. It wasn’t every day they had some metalhead rockstar covered in tattoos and dressed in all black walk into this quiet little shop. His appearance was stark in contrast with the cheery, neutral setting.

“Well, I guess hell finally froze over,” a snarky, all too familiar voice from behind the counter captured his attention.

Snapping his head in that direction, he was met with a fiery red head starring daggers straight through him. Her arms were crossed above the apron that was adorned with the name of the shop. She was older, but still looked the same in many ways and by the sounds of it still had a sharp tongue that could still give Mike Wheeler a run for his money.

“Red.” He stated, sending a small smile her way that she didn’t return.  

“Oh, so you do remember us small town folk.” Cynical attitude on full display, though he thought he rightly deserved it. “What are you doing here? Trying to earn a stalking charge?”

“What the hell is that supposed that mean?” he quipped back, shuffling forward.

“Like you don’t know this is her shop. Get real Munson.” She scoffed and started walking through the double doors that led to the back of the store.

“Wait, Red. She own’s this place?” his voice suddenly felt small. He had made his way up to the counter, and placed both his palms on the cool surface, trying to regain some composure. Wayne’s words coming back to him, “doing real good for herself.”

Max rounded and eyed him wearily.

“You didn’t know?” she questioned, eyebrows scrunching with confusion for a moment before scoffing again, rolling her eyes. “Wow, well, I mean it really doesn’t shock me. Not like you kept in touch with any of your friends. You know when you took off, Peach isn’t the only one you left behind Eddie.”

“Max, just… just cut the shit!” exasperated, he raised his voice, gaining the attention of the patrons around the place once more.

“I just need a black coffee and I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t have the time or patience for this right now.” Time was something he had, patience he very much lacked.

She moved then, grabbing the pot and filling a to-go cup for him, placing it on the counter in front of him, as he pulled out his wallet.

“I should charge you triple,” she mumbled under her breath, as she started to ring up the single coffee.

He pulled out a twenty, laid it on the counter and started to walk away.

“Hey,” Max shouted, looking back up. “I was just kidding”. But he was already out the door.

“Max!” you yelled as you entered the back of the coffee shop.

She poked her head through the doors, “Hey Peach! You’re here early.”

“Yeah, I uh… Didn’t feel like sitting around the house all day.” You joined her up front, probably looking a little disheveled from the nap earlier. You hadn’t taken the time to look in the mirror before leaving, getting dressed and gathering your things as quickly as possible.  

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Munson being back in town, would it?” She eyed you, tilting her head as she crossed her arms, leaning against the back counter.

“Ah, I guess word has gotten around then?”

“I mean yeah, but he also just left about 10 minutes ago. He really looks like shit.” She stated matter-of-factly.

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, he does look a little worse for wear.” She shrugged as she walked to lock up for the day.

She helped you take inventory like she did most Sundays. You and Max had stayed close even after you graduated, you were like the big sister she never had. After Eddie had left, she moved in with you until you had bought the house. She had stayed in the apartment above the Hideout until she eventually moved in with Lucas.

After your work was done, you drove by the Hideout, seeing a black sedan parked there knowing immediately who it was. Did he really have nothing else to do?  

You headed home, ready to rid yourself of the past, you wanted to forget he had ever come back to darken your doorstep. You have made your own life here. He was now an unwanted intrusion. Dreams once shared together now a distant echo of the past.

Does everyone in this fucking town really want to tear him a new one? He left the coffee shop more irritated than when he left your house. At least he knew exactly what he was getting himself into showing up there. The sudden rush he had felt seeing a familiar face quickly faded, feeling cornered all over again lashing out at Max.

He kept checking his watch, counting down the minutes until the Hideout would finally open and he could stifle some of this misery for at least a little while.

He would wallow in his self-pity today and tomorrow he would be back on his way to L.A. There was no place left in your life for him. What did he really expect? You welcoming him with open arms like nothing had ever happened? He must be more delusional than he thought. You’ve always been stubborn. There was a better chance of Hell freezing over than you ever forgiving him. But was it forgiveness he was really seeking? No, he had wanted more. A second chance to make things right.

When 4 PM rolled around, Eddie shot out of the car, hoping whoever was working had opened on time.

He threw open the door, the scent of cheap alcohol and stale peanuts hit him. Nostalgia at its best. At this point, all he could do is ride the wave, there is nowhere in Hawkins that wouldn’t stir some sort of memory or feelings for him.

It still looked relatively the same. He could tell it had a fresh paint job in recent years though the walls remained the same shade of hunter green they had always been. He noted that there were band posters hung around the place featuring more modern musicians. Maybe ole’ Hank was trying to draw in a younger crowd, growing with the times.

The bar top remained the same warm wood he remembered. I bet if he looked hard enough the initials of yours and his he had carved in the surface would still be there.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” you whispered, as he took out his pocketknife, scratching into the wood with ease.

“Shhhh… just keep a look out for your Uncle.” He whispered back.

You were both a little tipsy that night. Hank had let you stay after hours. The boys had a show earlier, but it was just you and him left. Doors already locked for the night.

“He’s going to kill you when he sees that.” You giggle, knowing Hank wouldn’t really care. You scooted closer to him, feeling the warmth his body pressed close to yours provided. Pink tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, a habit he had when concentrating.

“Done!” he sat back a little, as you peeked over his shoulder. He had carved both your initials with a heart around it. “Just a little something for this town to remember us by when we’re long gone.”

 Your hand reached out tracing the letters as he swung his arm around you pulling you in to kiss your temple.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of that imagery. Avoiding that stool knowing exactly where those initials would be, instead opting for the last seat at the end of the bar.

The place was void of any life. He sat down, waiting a few moments before raising his voice a bit, “Hello?”

A younger guy walked from the back room. Eddie thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place him. Probably someone who went to school with him.

“Oh Hi, sorry. Don’t usually get too many folks in here this early.” The younger man smiled warmly.

“Look, I just need you to give me a Jack, with ice. Keep em’ coming and it’ll be worth your while. Kay?” He flashed a few hundreds the young man’s way.

“Whatever you say sir.” He pocketed the money and poured the drink.

The end of the bar gave him a little privacy. It was darker, hidden from the direct eye line of the entrance.

By the time 7 rolled around he was feeling about half as good as he wanted to, it took a lot to get him messed up these days. The bar was a little livelier than when he was younger. Seemed to be more people around his age instead of the older crowd that hung around back when the Corroded Coffin boys were still in school.  

Closer to 9 with blood shot eyes, pupils dilated and speech starting to slur he asked the bartender, Randy, whose name he had finally caught, for another but that’s when the younger man hesitated. He had noticed the way the metalhead started to fade.

“Hey man, think you may have had enough, yeah?”

Eddie shot a pensive look at the man, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t I tell you to keep em’ coming? Huh?”

“You did, but uh… I think my boss would kill me if they knew I were serving you too much.”

“Hank? Nah, I know Hank.” He shot back dismissively with a wave of his hand.

“Hank hasn’t owned this place for a couple of years now. Retired.” Randy stood his ground.

“Well,” Eddie stood then, with a sway, losing his balance but quickly righting himself. “I don’t care who the owner is, I paid you good money to keep the drinks coming.” Feeling a little lightheaded, he sat back down with a thud.

One more drink before him now, nodding and tipping it back.

Not long after, Randy had decided it was time he phoned the local Sherriff before things got out of hand.

Arriving a short time later in a gruff mood, being interrupted from his nice Sunday evening with the family, getting a call that the local celebrity was starting to raise a ruckus in the small bar wasn’t what he had expected.

He slinked up to Eddie and sat on the stool next to him. He never even looked up, eyes trained ahead as if the bar top was the most interesting thing in the world.

Jim wasn’t in uniform, thinking it best to not make it a bigger deal than it may have already been. He would attempt to quietly get them both the hell out of there taking him somewhere to sleep it off until morning.

He waved at Randy, who immediately grabbed him a beer. Sitting it before him with a thump, finally gaining the attention of the other man knocking him out of whatever little world he had been in.

“Hop… Hopper?” he pensively asked. More a statement but came as a question.

“Hey son,” he looked over then, Eddie’s eyes starting to grow heavier. Hopper had been around long enough to tell alcohol didn’t seem to be the only thing in the younger man’s system, but that would need be left for another conversation.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” he started, drawing a cigarette from the new packet he produced from his pocket, lighting it. “I’m going to finish this beer that Randy here was kind enough to get me, then you and I are going to take a little walk.”

Eddie just nodded. Coherent thoughts drowned out by the music and the haze of the alcohol taking full effect. And that’s what happened, Hopper drank as Eddie sat quietly; head hung until he heard him snivel.

The old juke box in the corner kicked up an old song, yet another reminder of the past. “Mmm yeah! Tonight, I want to give it all to you.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he lowly murmured to himself, shaking his head lightly, catching the other man’s attention.

“You know, this was her favorite song.” A moment of clarity in the haze that hung over his mind.

The song continued to play, “I was made for lovin’ you baby. You were made for lovin’ me.” The universe was truly toying with him.

The vivid picture of you dancing around the little apartment rattled around. You had this song on full blast, using a ladle you had grabbed from the counter, singing along. Your laughter bubbling over once Eddie had joined in on the impromptu concert.

Jim didn’t say anything at first, waiting for Eddie to continue but he didn’t, already lost in that thought. He hung his head back down, hair effectively hiding his face and the tears that were threatening to spill, eyes stinging from the sensation.

“I never meant to hurt her like that… I… I fucked up,” he said lowly.

“You ever tell her that?” Hopper asked, as if it was the most sensical thing.

“I tried.” He nodded. Hopper was a man of few words when it came to matters of the heart. Actions always outweigh words.

The older man then paid for his drink and started to help Eddie from the stool, grabbing under his arm to stabilize him.

“Alright Bud, let’s go.”

Randy started to ask, “Do I need to call…?”

Jim cut him off with a harsh glance and shake of his head, “I’ll take care of it.” Then turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Come on kid, let’s get you somewhere you can rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Eddie yanked his arm from his grip with so much force he would have assuredly fell to the ground had it not been for the older man catching his jacket.

Jim just dragged him from the bar without so much as another word or glance back. Once they reached the parking lot, Eddie stopped again, feet planted firmly this time.

“Where… where is she? I… I need ta’ talk to her.” He slurred.

“Look, son, now is not the time to start this mopey sad shit. You’re drunk, I’ll call Wayne. He can get you home to sleep this off.”

“No!” he yelled now, “Where’s Peach? I need ta’ tell her. I need ta’ talk to her. Please man.” He was thinking of what he had done that night. Seemingly taking what he needed and then taking his leave. He never meant it, he wished he could take it all back.

Eddie was staring at him with pleading, glazed over eyes. He started to break down, as he was led to the back of the cruiser. The older man took pity on him, even though he knew it was a bad idea. He was able to get him into the back without much more coaxing, accepting his fate.

He made sure the door was secure and went back into the bar to use the phone.

Hesitantly, he dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Hey, it���s Jim. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

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[pumpkin-spice-whump]

Okay I got a little more confident. Here's the first chapter.

This is a while after Jack had first been kidnapped and sold. This is the first chapter of the book, the other one was a flashback. (Sorry that's confusing. It'll make more sense with the whole thing)

--

Jack bangs his head against the wall. 106. He lazily lifts his neck and drops it again. 107. He decided he was on his way to beat his all time high of 318 a while ago. He only stopped then because he blacked out for a second, and he figured that repeatedly smashing his head into the wall wasn’t the smartest.

Except who the hell cares what the smartest thing to do is when you’re bored out of your mind.

108.

Not ‘oh there’s nothing on TV’ bored. Bored like Jack only has eight books in his cell anyway, and never mind the fact that he’s already read them all so much he’s got them memorized, but also the light has been flickering and if it goes out then he’ll be in darkness for months on end so he might as well just sit in darkness now by choice. So that’s what Jack did. He took a nap. Again. And then sat in darkness and banged the back of his head against the wall because that was better than letting his mind wander.

109.

Jack can never let his mind wander. When it does he always ends up sobbing so hard he throws up, or plots how he can potentially end his own life.

110.

If he lets his mind wander he might think of his mom. He might think that she’s forty eight now, and he missed another Christmas with her. He’ll think about how terrified he was when he was grabbed and thrown into a van. How he never even thought about that happening to him and so he had no idea what to do except lash out and kick his attacker.

He’s still got the scar on the side of his head from the man’s rings.

111.

Jack will think about the times he’s tried to keep track of the days on the wall next to his bed, but he just gave up when he stopped being aware of when was day and when was night. He had a little breakdown that day, when he realized that he’d been there so long he didn’t know exactly how long anymore.

112.

He’ll think about the fingers he lost for trying to run. The way he limps every time he walks and keels over every time he breaths. He’ll think about the part of his ear that--

113. 114. 115. 116.

Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up!

Jack had a TV once. One of those big box TVs with the VHS player attached that he hadn’t seen since he was in elementary school. He played the few tapes he had basically 24/7. They weren’t good movies, he saw Joe Dirt so many times he dreamt about him, but it was something. Human voices to occupy his time. Voices besides his painful memories and… Mr. Reeder.

117.

Mr. Reeder isn’t the man who first took Jack. Once, in a bout of quiet contemplation much like this one, Jack let himself realize that he was in fact a victim of human trafficking. In his mind, trafficking was only for sex slavery or organ harvesting. But he was kidnapped, and then sold. For money. It’s not like he’s got Google on hand, but Jack’s pretty sure that’s the definition.

118.

No, Jack’s actually got no idea who first threw him in the car. He was walking home from a friend’s house. Not even a friend, just someone to hang out with so he wouldn’t be bored.

Man, 15 year old Jack had no idea what boredom was.

It was dark. He had headphones in playing music. He was alone. He was an idiot.

He never heard the car pull up beside him. Someone grabbed his shoulder and he turned around to ask them what the hell, but by the time he understood what was going on he was already in the man’s arms, hand over his mouth and phone tossed to the street. Jack had kicked out, managing to kick his attacker in the shin, but it didn’t stop him. He was thrown into the trunk of the car, and before he could even catch his breath to call for help, he was knocked out.

The whole ordeal probably didn’t take more than two minutes, if that. No time for anyone to hear a scuffle and come looking.

Jack woke up later to his arms and legs tied up, duct tape around his head, and the feeling of blood on his face.

119.

He doesn’t like to think about the early days. The constant fear and exhaustion that took hold of him. That still does if he’s being honest. He likes to think he’s more resigned now. Apathetic, if you will.

It makes stomaching his own existence a little easier.

120.

He lifts his head off the wall once again, but pauses before he can get to 121. Jack is a very very good listener, out of necessity. So despite being a floor down and many walls away, he can always hear Mr. Reeder’s car pulling into the driveway. No matter how many times he heard it, Jack can never stop the way his body tenses, the way his heart rate picks up. He swallows and stares up at the ceiling, waiting for more.

It’s been a few days. Mr. Reeder would leave to go to work every day, and sometimes he’d go somewhere for a night or two. But this has been the longest ever. Jack had woken up and went to sleep eight different times (half were naps, he knew, but even still it was at least four days.) He’s running out of food. Even if he didn’t see Mr. Reeder every day, he at least knew he was home.

Sickening that this is his home.

The door upstairs slams and Jack can’t repress a flinch. He stares up into the darkness, eyes following the sound of heavy footsteps across the floor. The footsteps stop. Jack holds his breath to listen, the only unwelcome sound that of his own heavy heart.

A slamming door is not good. Stomping across the living room is not good. What kind of mood is he going to be in?

Jack gasps and flinches at the sound of Mr. Reeder yelling, a wordless, angry shout, and then something crashes to the ground above him. Another shout and crash. Another. And another.

Mr. Reeder’s throwing things. So it’s safe to say he’s in, what Jack would call, a not good mood.

He tries his best to tune out the sounds above and focus on himself. He needs to calm down before Mr. Reeder gets here, or it’s going to be worse. Freaking out beforehand helps no one, and he ends up being in pain anyway so, you know. What’s the point. Jack closes his eyes (he can’t see anyway) and takes long, deep breaths in through his nose, and out through his mouth. His ribs flare painfully with each inhale, but Jack welcomes it. It grounds him. Lets him know he still exists, in this painful body and dark basement. He still exists.

Unfortunately.

Jack makes himself keep breathing as the footsteps get closer and closer, making their way down the stairs and stopping just outside his door.

It never gets easier. The suspense of waiting for his captor, it just never does. Even if his mind knows it’s going to be the same old same old, his body was terrified. It was tired of being hurt, of being hungry, of being tired and bored.

Sometimes he’s so bored he’s actually excited, not nervous, when Mr. Reeder comes. Oddly enough, this was not one of those times.

The keys jingle. A lock clicks. And Mr. Reeder pushes open the door.

Jack squints against the light from the basement filtering in from the cracked door. He lets out his last inhale and stares down at the heavy boots in front of him. They weren’t originally that dark of brown, but … you know. Blood.

Mr. Reeder just stands there for a moment, staring at his captive. He’s silhouetted against the light so Jack can’t see his expression. Jack waits for him to say something, anything. He doesn’t.

Jack clears his throat. “H-hi Mr. Reeder.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Jack nods, looking at the ground, heart pounding in his ears.

Mr. Reeder’s hand shoots out suddenly, gripping Jack by the hair and hauling him up out of his room. Jack hisses in pain, hands clawing at the fist tangled in his hair. If it was up to him, he would’ve shaved his head ages ago. But Mr. Reeder would never give him a razor.

Jack kicks at the ground, trying his best to get his feet under himself enough to relieve the pressure on his head. His bad leg howls in protest at the sudden actions, but he does his best to push through. As he begins to be dragged up the stairs, Jack grits his teeth to stop from crying out, knee painfully banging against each. Individual. Step.

Each step, Jack is able to brace the pain a little more and become more aware of what exactly was happening.

He is going upstairs. He hasn’t been upstairs since he first got here. The current circumstances are much different than those last time, so why the hell is Mr. Reeder bringing him upstairs?

He begins to fight.

Jack has been doing this a long time. Longer than he actually knows, but he’s positive it’s years. He’s an adult probably old enough to drink. That’s a long time to become a professional at getting your butt kicked. And being a professional victim, Jack knows that the less you struggle, the easier it is. Easier to deal with the pain, faster to get it over with, and easier to stomach your own cowardice… Or resourcefulness. He’s a survivor, that much he knows.

So he only fights back when he’s really scared.

And he has reason to be. When Jack was just a brand new greenie kidnappee, demanding to be let back upstairs, Mr. Reeder had leaned down, close to his face, so close that Jack had to lean away from the smell of the peppermint gum he was chewing.

“The only way you are ever going back up those stairs,” he said lowly, coldly, “is if I want to see your brains on the wall in natural lighting.”

It was the first time that Jack had thought I might not make it out of here alive. It took him a much longer time to accept it.

Apparently he hasn’t accepted it at all, Jack thinks as he wrenches his head out of Mr. Reeder’s grasp and dives to crawl away from him. It was never going to work but he needs to try.

Jack Thatcher was NOT taken away from his mother for years just to be shot in the head by some isolated lunatic. At least, he wasn’t going to without a fight.

Mr. Reeder grabs him easily, yanking him back by his bag leg, stretching it out. Jack can feel poorly healed bones in his knee scraping together, pinching the long disused muscles around them. He let out a shout before Mr. Reeder pulls him by his waist instead, hauling him into a room and slamming the door shut and sitting in front of it, trapping Jack inside.

With nowhere else to go, Jack pushes himself into the corner farthest from his captor, arms protectively shielding his right knee. His chest heaves and he can feel the stupid tightness starting in his throat that happens before he cries. He hates crying in front of Mr. Reeder, but it is continuously unavoidable.

Mr. Reeder sits in front of the door, catching his breath as well. He runs a hand through greasy hair, staring at the ceiling. He sighs heavily, like his life is the one here not worth living.

Tragic.

With his captor temporarily distracted, Jack takes stock of his surroundings. A mattress with no sheets is pushed against the corner opposite himself, some dirty clothes thrown at it’s end. A cracked mirror is attached to a dresser, dust slightly distorting the image of the ceiling. Behind Jack is a window half boarded up, letting a sliver of light into the room, washing over his captor. It looks like it’s golden hour outside.

Jack’s struck with the thought that this is the first time he’s seen the sun since he went down those stairs. Really, since he was thrown into that car as a teenager. He always had a blindfold on, or he was transported at night. The most fundamental, most simple and base thing a human has access to, Jack hasn’t for years. Still just out of reach.

His attention is brought back to Mr. Reeder when he sighs again. He warily looks up at Jack. “You’re lucky you know.” Jack doesn’t move. He’s heard the ‘you should be glad I’m not worse’ speech before. “You have no idea what you’ve missed. No idea… what you’ve been spared. What I’ve spared you from.”

Jack only watches apprehensively. His body is tight, poised like he’s ready to try to run again. Where, with Mr. Reeder blocking the door? That’s for future Jack to find out.

“I didn’t mean to spare you from it,” he goes on. “Heaven knows that wasn’t my intention. I think you could have benefited from being in the middle of it all.” He chuckles and Jack shrinks away even more. “Oh the look on your face would’ve been everything… Oh well. It’s just about over anyway.”

It’s nonsense. Utter nonsense. Mr. Reeder is certifiably insane, no doubt about it. He’s gone on long manic monologues before, Jack’s heard about everything.

He’s never seen Mr. Reeder pull a gun from his waistband though.

He can’t help the sharp intake of breath, the sudden urge to run! Run now! Go! He’s got no idea what to do with it so he just stands up, so quickly it doesn’t even hurt, and backs even further into the corner. Mr. Reeder always threatened that he had a gun but Jack had never had proof until right now.

Mr. Reeder looks at him from under his brows. “Sit down Jack.”

All he can do is shake his head, breaths coming out fast and shallow. The floor is liquid beneath his feet, making his body shake where it stands.

The gun clicks and points right at Jack. “Sit. Down.”

He slides down the wall, hands up. His throat bobs with a swallow, just to do something with his mouth other than sob. Tears fall steadily down his cheeks and his lower lip trembles.

Mr. Reeder, satisfied with Jack’s cooperation, relaxes his grip on the gun, hefting it like he’s simply judging the weight.

“There wasn’t much time,” he says. Jack shifts his focus from the gun to his captor, staring with wide eyes and frayed nerves. “I was trying to think about what to do with you but… I mean there just wasn’t much. I’m not sure I would’ve done anything even if there was. You’ve said it yourself Jack, who wants to die alone?”

His eyes meet Jack’s for the first time and Jack can see… tears. Welling in them. It only terrifies him more. “Mr. Reeder…”

“Shh. Shh sh sh.” He shakes his head, working his jaw. “Do you believe in God, Jack?”

Jack swallows. “I don’t know,” he whispers, voice catching on the words. “I used to.”

“What about heaven and hell? Think those exist?”

Jack can feel the panic claw up his throat, making him want to sob and scream. “I hope so.”

“Hmm… I wonder if hell will be any worse than earth.”

This is it then, Jack thinks. He’s going to take us both out, as a sick end to his sick life. He’s bored of me and now it’s over, it’s all over.

“Mr. Reeder please,” Jack begs, tears blurring him, “please don’t. Don’t do it.”

He furrows his brows, and looks down at the gun. He shakes his head. “See you in hell, Jack.”

[3terna15unshin3]

Touch

Who will be the first to break?

2704 words

warnings: !! 18+ !! smut, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, very minimal editing (sorry)

—

a/n: Not requested but last time i posted smut y’all really liked it lmfao😭😭 I also felt sufficiently inspired to write a mutual masturbation tbsg blurb bc of tdab pt 2 by the iconic @lottiecrabie and also this fic that i love by @wrongendofurcigarette <33333 thank u for the inspo besties ok anyway hope u enjoy love u bye xo

(I wrote an entire 15 chapter fic of this universe! Read it here)

—

Matty was supposed to touch down on the tarmac around half nine. But as a symbol of his amazing luck, weather delays held him back and Este sat at home, impatiently waiting and jittering with anticipation. It was almost eleven in the evening and he still hadn’t arrived.

The months he’d been gone inched slowly by, and she only felt herself missing him more the closer his return date approached. Este started to feel like the floors of their home were colder in his absence. Like the lights were either too dim that she had to squint or too bright that it made her head throb. But sulking about it didn’t help—so she busied herself to make time go by faster.

She went on runs with Keiko. Wrote her weekly pieces twice as fast. Read double the amount of novels. Dipped her right hand into her knickers and thought about Matty. Sometimes alone, and sometimes with his virtual company; always hearing him whine about how much better Este felt around him in comparison to his fist. 

There was usually food ready to satisfy his hungry post-flight state, but because of the late hour, he insisted that Este shouldn’t bother. He didn’t want to waste time eating. If I get hungry then I’ll just eat her, thought Matty during his Uber home.

She was on the brink of falling asleep when Matty sent her a message to let her know that he would pull up at any second. Her body sprung up and ran to wait in the doorway before she could even process the words. There were butterflies pounding at her chest purely at the way the approaching headlights hit the pavement. She leaned on the doorframe and attempted to appear cool and collected. Then, an idea came to mind.

He pretty much tackled Este into an embrace when he finally walked up. They waddled into the house and breathed in each other’s scents. “Hi baby,” Matty whispered, pulling his face away to bring her lips to his. 

But, only millimetres before they could graze, Este inched away. She had on a mischievous smirk instead, letting Matty feel her hot breath on his skin as she exhaled.

Worry grew in his mind. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing at all, love,” Este shook her head, backing away even more to grab the bags his hands gripped to bring them to their bedroom. A smirk still sat on her lips as he cluelessly followed behind her confident steps. “I was just thinking about how long it’s been since you’ve touched me.”

His throat immediately dried up as he caught on to what she was doing. Este knew they were both desperate for one thing—but wanted him to prove how bad he wanted it.

“Yeah, fuck. It’s been ages. So let me,” Matty begged, reaching to caress her jaw. She was quick to dodge.

“But don’t you ever wonder how long we can make it? Before we break?” 

Este’s hips swayed back and forth purposefully as she took the claw clip that sat on her bedside table. In a few swift manoeuvres, she threw her dark hair up and secured it there. He watched her hands work meticulously and adored the way the shorter wavy pieces fell out of the clip and dangled next to her face. What he didn’t adore was that he could now see so much of her neck, and that she surely wouldn’t let him kiss it. 

“What are you doing?” He asked gingerly.

It was a rhetorical question. You know exactly what I’m doing, thought Este.

“Posing a question, ‘s all.” She answered, walking back around the bed to exit their room and head to the kitchen. Matty followed, of course.

Their feet padded down the stairs. “Don’t do this to me, E. Please,” he finally vocalised. 

It took everything in her to leave him hanging for the couple of seconds it took to fetch the bottle of red she’d been saving. She uncorked it and took a swig, repressing the want (more like need) to pounce onto him like a cat. 

“First one to touch loses.”

"Fine. Game on."

—

They brought the bottle of wine over to the sofa and took turns sipping it. To not be as tempted, they even sat on opposite ends. Out of reach. 

It wasn’t until then that Matty realised she was wearing a pair of his boxers as shorts. She had to roll over the waistband a couple of times to stop them from falling off her hips, but they still fit loosely. The way Este was scrunched up—clearly trying to make herself comfortable within the couch cushions—made the boxers tug lower. Matty peered at the skin low on her hips and made the assumption that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. God. If he yanked them down her thighs there would be nothing between him and her cunt.

He adjusted his pants, growing hard at the thought. Not a great way to play if he wanted to win.

Este was just as hot and bothered as him, but was just a bit better at hiding it. She stared at his hand that gripped the remote, flicking through the options on Netflix mindlessly (though he couldn’t care less about what was on the telly). The veins on the back of his hand flexed, and Este’s eyes watched. She then trailed them upwards on his arm and took note of how sculpted they were. Had they always been that big? she thought. Bloody hell. 

As if on perfect cue, Matty scooched himself lower, now almost fully on his back to relax. He threw an arm up and behind his head, hand cradling the back of his neck. The action flicked the bottom hem of his t-shirt upwards, forcing the ink on his skin to be exposed to the air. His hips rose and wiggled back and forth before he sealed the comfy action with a quick yawn. Of course he chose to do it while he saw Este’s head turned to him instead of the television, feeling the burn of her gaze. Any other day, she’d be on his lap in seconds.

Her breathing quickened. It was a bit embarrassing that something so simple could drive her insane—so she briefly used her hands to cover her reddening face. Holding out as a strategy clearly wasn’t going well. So, Este thought of what might speed things up.

“Gonna go for a wee. You know what wine does to me,” she suddenly announced, getting up and running to the toilet. Sure, she really did have to go. But once she finished, she decided to leave the boxers on the bathroom floor instead of pulling them back on.

Walking back into Matty’s line of sight, now only clothed with a black baby tee that hugged her torso and nothing on her bottom half, Este stopped in front of him to bend down and grab the bottle of wine that sat on the coffee table. She turned around to face him and locked her eyes with his as she took a swig. 

His mouth fell open for the few seconds he maintained the eye contact, but soon let his focus fall down her body, ultimately stopping at her bare pussy. He watched the space below her belly button expand and contract as she slowly breathed in and out. He even saw her thighs clench together. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he thought. This is torture. 

“My eyes are up here,” commented Este playfully, breaking the trance he was clearly stuck in, and then returning to her corner of the sofa. 

“Fuck off,” Matty confidently responded with a scoff, though she could tell from the small smile of defeat on his face that she’d caught him off guard. “Didn’t have the balls to leave the shirt behind too, huh? Only my boxers?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, do you want it gone? In that case—”

Matty then watched the small black article of clothing hit the floor, leaving Este completely nude & no more than a metre out of his reach. The same Este he hadn’t touched in nine weeks.

A smug look stared back at him as he thought of ways to one-up her. He couldn’t just copy and strip, like her. It had to be something more. So, he reached into his pants—still looking at her in the eye—pulling his cock out. Why beat around the bush? It was already red and hard, begging to be touched. And since he couldn’t touch her, he touched himself instead.

Este refused to look away. She couldn’t. Her brown eyes were locked onto his fist that tugged slowly up and down his length. Subconsciously, she swiped her bottom lip with her tongue. 

“Look at you, licking your lips. Wishing it was your mouth,” taunted Matty, “You don’t even want me to touch you. You want to touch me, baby. You love it when I fuck your face.”

He watched her writhe and sigh in dissatisfaction, seeing that Este knew he was right. Her hand inched down to her throbbing and exposed clit, finally daring to apply some pressure and whining in relief. 

“You’ve got quite the ego on yourself, Healy,” she squeaked, trying not to moan at her fingers circling her clit with haste. “You’ll be begging to cum in my mouth. Touch me first and maybe I’ll let you.”

Matty’s hips bucked upwards as he matched the speed of his pumps to that of Este’s hand against herself. “Fuck, you’re killing me,” he moaned, closing his eyes in pleasure and fantasy. 

Waiting until she saw his stare reconnect with hers, Este teased her fingertips south to her entrance. It was slick with wetness and desperate to be filled. Siding two fingers in, her jaw dropped open, and her hips rocked upwards to feel them deeper. A gasp escaped her lips. She let out a shaky groan when they bottomed out and yearned for them to be Matty’s instead.

“Mine don’t fill me up the way yours do.”

The sounds of both her fingers moving in and out of her cunt and him fucking his fist radiated throughout the room, overtaking whatever Netflix show Matty settled on. Both moving in sync.

“Come over here and sit on me, then. I can fuck you better than that,” he coerced.

Watching through his half-shut eyelids, he thought, I bet her wrist is tired. She’ll give in soon. But by then it was less of a thought and more of a prayer. 

“But that would mean you’d win,” Este pointed out the obvious. “And I can’t let that happen.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Turn to me, E. I need to see more of you,” commanded Matty. 

She listened and pivoted, spreading her thighs even further. She arched her back off of the sofa when her fingers grazed a certain spot, making her hold back what she knew would have been Matty’s name slipping past her lips. Her thumb rubbed furiously at her clit simultaneously. Surely he’ll touch me if I come, considered Este, chasing her high.

His lip was pinned between his teeth as he continued watching her. Her sopping pussy was in full view, making Matty think of what it felt like around him. The way she’d clench her walls just before he was about to cum and how it would always get him there faster. How easily he could make that familiar sensation a reality if he’d just give in.

Studying Este’s chest, where her other hand sat and fiddled with her hard nipples, Matty saw how quickly it heaved up and down. Her breaths were laboured. A layer of sweat glistened on her forehead and her gaze struggled to pin onto him. She’s close, he discovered.

“You’re almost there, darling. I know that arm of yours is tired. I’d have you cumming in seconds if you just come over and let me win,” he whispered desperately.

Este moaned at his words, speeding up her fingers. “So are you,” she pointed out, “and if you cum in your—fuck, Matty—if you cum in your hand, you won’t get to cum inside me.”

She made a good point. He sped up to match her, thrusting his hips up to meet his hand faster.

“Then come here and sit on me,” whined Matty, still not giving in, frustrating Este. Resentment for her silly game grew. If he wouldn’t let her win now, she had to do more. The visual wasn’t enough. She had to beg for it. Literally.

“Please, baby! I feel so fucking empty. I need you to fuck me now. Riding you won’t be enough. I need you to come over here and hold me down and fuck me—shit! Rail me so hard that we forget our own names. Need to feel you deeper than I ever have. Do whatever you want to me, please, Matty. I’ll do anything—”

Her voice pushed him over the edge. He didn't care about the stupid game anymore.

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever moved so fast in his life; climbing over to Este’s side of the sofa. She gasped when she felt Matty’s hands grip her hips to pull her closer, not giving her any time to adjust before sinking himself into her cunt.

They groaned in unison, the feeling they were chasing hit them even harder after the painstaking period of forbidden touch. She felt every inch of him against her walls, pressing a hand into her lower stomach to feel him there too.

“Is this what you wanted?” he intensely spat at her, beginning to pound into her with no avail.

Matty’s hips slammed together with hers over and over, lighting the fire in Este’s core. Her mind went hazy with pleasure and she struggled to even answer him. Her jaw was stuck agape and the only things he could hear out of her were frenzied and pornographic moans.

“Yes, fuck, yes. Don’t stop, I’m gonna cum,” she cried.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he felt his climax approach too. But he couldn’t keep them shut for long, as he craved the sight of her beneath him, still tirelessly swiping at her clit. Her breasts bounced up and down at the force of Matty’s hips, which now buckled with a messy rhythm. The hair that stuck to her wet forehead was swiped away by a finger of his, getting it out of the way, needing the full view of Este’s face. 

“Cum for me, E. I thought about this every night when I was gone. Couldn’t hold back any longer—fuck—you win. This pussy is mine. So perfect for me,” Matty egged. 

Este let go and the notorious clench of her walls pushed him to do the same. The warmth deep inside her signalled that Matty had shot his hot seed into her, groaning and worshipping her name as he did. She reached up to yank on his curls and saw stars for a moment, the pure euphoria carrying her high in pleasure like she’d never seen before. He gave her exactly what she’d been needing, those nights alone. Nobody could fuck her like him.

Her stomach immediately felt like jello in the aftershock of her orgasm. They both panted into each other's mouths, slick with sweat, giddy smiles on their faces. Matty’s arms gave out, laying on top of her gently, still twitching inside of her. He didn’t have an ounce of extra energy to pull out. Not that he really wanted to, anyway.

“What’s my prize?” Este asked, throat rough from the screaming she’d just done. 

Matty glanced at the TV, where the time was displayed. 00:28. They hadn’t even lasted half an hour at her ‘game’.

“I reckon I can make you cum three more times before we fall asleep?” he suggested.

“Deal,” she agreed, “Or you can fuck my face like you mentioned. Up to you,” finished Este with a giggle.

His eyes widened in shock, hiding his face in her neck as they both laughed.

“Might need a bit of time to, you know, recharge before we get to that. But I am not passing up on that offer.”

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter 16 I Stop, You're Losing Me

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football prodigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Chapter Summary: Reader and Jamie are going through a rough patch and end up in Man City

Word Count: 5.4K

Warning: Angst, tears,

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve 13 14 15

A/N: Thank you so much to @sokkigarden for reading this ahead of time and giving me notes! We have one chapter left after this one!!! Can't wait!

There was something wrong with Jamie. Ever since he came back from the international break things had been different. I’d prepared this whole big dinner for him with sexy lingerie and his favorite meals, and he’d enjoyed the whole night very thoroughly. But the next day, he was distant. Like I’d hurt him or something. I tried to ask him about it but he assured me there was nothing wrong, and that he was fine.

That was a few weeks ago and nothing had gotten better. I was so frustrated with myself. I’d wrack my brain trying to figure out what I’d done wrong, how I’d upset him that night. But nothing came to my mind.

         “It’s like he’s avoiding me,” I whined to Roy, spinning in my chair. I’d moved so I was in his office between him and Trent. “But I don’t know what I did.”

Roy grunted. This was how our conversations usually went. I’d come into his office when Trent wasn’t there, spin in my little chair and complain, and he’d grunt every now and then to let me know he was listening. Or half listening. He ‘didn’t want to get in my business because he doesn’t fucking care’”

         “I just… what if he wants to break up with me,” I whisper the words, finally stilling in my chair.

I’d tried not to consider that possibility, but it was very likely that he did want to break up. I’d obviously upset him somehow. But it was so sudden. We were doing so well. And our love had never been stronger. Maybe he’d gone to Italy and slept with someone else. That sent a shiver down my spine.

         “He doesn’t want to break up with you,” Roy grumbled, putting his pen down. “He’s just a twat that doesn’t know how to express his emotions”

         “How do you know he doesn’t want to break up with me?”

         “Cause he fucking adores you and talks about you all the time on our runs and it’s fucking annoying that’s why,” He shot back.

I smiled softly at the thought of Jamie running along talking about me. He’d become incredibly fit over the season. Not that he wasn’t fit before but now he could run longer, lift heavier, and move quicker.

         “He talks about me?” I checked, looking at Roy hopefully.

He rolled his eyes at me as he stood up and grabbed his jacket. “Yes, he does. Now I have to go to a stupid press conference and sit next to him while they boost his stupid ego after getting player of the month.”

         “He’s barely mentioned that, you know,” I tell Roy, standing to move my chair back to my desk. “It’s weird.”

         “He’s trying to be all humble about it, it’s fucking annoying.” He rolled his eyes and started out of the room. “Stop worrying about it!”

I wouldn’t stop worrying about it. I would continue to worry about it even when Colin, Isaac and Will brought back some kebabs from some Greek restaurant they’d gone to. They were delicious and all I could think about was Jamie’s mopey face as he went into the conference room.

But the real kicker was when Ted brought in a special guest.

         “My name is Dottie Lasso, it’s great to meet you,” Dottie introduced before wrapping me up in a hug.

         “Oh! Wow! Hi!” I greeted, shooting Ted a look. He just shrugged and motioned towards his mother. “I’m (Y/N), it’s great to meet you.”

         “It is such a pleasure to meet you, Ted talks about you all the time!”

I raised my eyebrows as she pulled away, smirking at Ted. “Oh, does he?”

She nodded, chuckling. “He thinks you’re the bee’s knees, sweetheart.”

         “I wasn’t aware bees had knees, but I appreciate it!” I replied, smiling at her.

Dottie Lasso brings in a big fuss as all the boys flock to her, listening to her stories of a young Ted Lasso. It was amusing to watch but Ted apparently did not think so as he watched her prattle on about his first time riding a bike.

I watched from my corner of the room, standing near the white board as we all enjoyed our meal and the stories. All except Jamie. He’s the only thing I had my eyes on the whole time as he stared vacantly at the floor. 

That was until Van Damme turned to Jamie with his nose guard on. It look ridiculous, of course, and normal Jamie would have taken the chance to make fun of him, but today, when Van Damme called on him Jamie just shrugged.

         “I think it’s more important to be safe than look cool,” he replied.

The room was silent as everyone stared at Jamie in surprise. I gave Roy a pointed look that said ‘I told you so’ before he rolled his eyes and turned around.

         “Oi! Tartt!” he barked, and the whole room flinched. “Boot room! Now!”

The two of them trudged off into the boot room, leaving me alone with the boys in the locker room. Part of me wanted to follow, to hear what they were walking about, but I knew Jamie needed to open up… to someone if not me.

I sighed and walked into my office where Ted was.

         “Well, it’s certainly been an interesting day, hasn’t it,” I groaned, tying my hair up into a ponytail.

         “That’s one way of putting it,” Ted grumbled back to me. “Say, is Jamie doing alright?”

I shook my head rubbing a hand down my face. “Couldn’t tell you.”

Ted looked over at me sympathetically. “Hey, whatever’s going on between the two of you, you’re gonna figure it out.”

         “I really hope so, Ted, I really do.”

…

I sat on Jamie’s bed that night as he packed. He was silent as he did, throwing clothes into a bag half-heartedly. I watched him, looking over the top of my phone, trying to pretend I wasn’t watching him, but I was.

         “Jamie?”

         “What is it?”  he mumbled, staring at his toothbrush.

         “Are you okay?” I asked, looking between him and the toothbrush.

His head snapped up at me. “Yeah, I’m great, I’m fine. Why? Did Roy say something? Well, he’s wrong, I’m fine.”

I threw up my hands. “No, Jamie, Roy didn’t say anything, you’re acting fucking weird.” He frowned at me, his eyes darting in his head as he figured out how to respond to me. I didn’t let him figure it out though. “Jamie, I’m here for you, please just talk to me.”

         “(Y/N), I promise, nothing is wrong,” he insisted, throwing his toothbrush into his suitcase finally. I slid off of the bed and went to grab his hand, but he flinched away from me.

I took a step back. He flinched. He actually flinched away. I felt the hurt spread over my body like a web, coursing through my veins. Jamie could see it hurt me; I could see it in his eyes. But he didn’t move to comfort me.

         “Okay, fine… I guess I’ll just go then,” I squeaked, grabbing my phone off the bed.

         “(Y/N), wait,” he finally spoke.

         “No, no it’s fine,” I grabbed my jacket that was hanging off the bed. “There’s nothing wrong, you’re fine. I’m gonna go.”

I trotted down the stairs and out the door, trying to hurry so I didn’t change my mind. I could hear Jamie curse from behind the door as I rushed down the driveway. This felt all too familiar. I could see it, last season, just around this time when I poured my soul open to him and left him standing on the field. Except it hurt more this time.

Jamie was fading from me. I could feel it. I wanted to grab on, but he pulled away. He was losing me.

We didn’t speak the next morning or at all on the bus. We didn’t even sit together on the bus. I tried to pretend I was fine, that my heart wasn’t aching as Colin sat next to me instead, wearing a sympathetic look. He didn’t even share his hotel room with me when we got them assigned at the hotel. He just walked off.

The next I heard from anyone was someone knocking rapidly on my door. When I opened it, Roy and Keeley were both standing there in front of me.

         “What’s wrong with Jamie?” Roy asked.

I felt the well building up, about to boil over. I tried to stay calm but just imagining the look on Jamie’s face when I tried to touch him last night.

         “Fuck!” I cried out, the tears welling up in my eyes. I started spinning in place, flapping my hands to let out excess energy. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!”

         “Fucking hell,” Roy rolled his eyes. “You and Jamie emote in very similar ways, you know?”

         “Babe, babe, breath,” Keeley grabbed onto my shoulders. “Roy said that when he talked to Jamie yesterday, he had a complete meltdown.”

         “What?”

         “Listen, listen,” She shushed. “But today I’m going to talk to him. We just wanted to see if you knew anything.”

I looked between Roy and Keeley, two of my closest friends in the world, and all three of us were coming together to help Jamie.

         “Whatever happens, (Y/N),” Keeley continued, rubbing her hands up and down. “we’re here for you, both of us.” She looked over at Roy who nodded minutely.

Roy stuck with me for the rest of the day. Apparently, he was on (Y/N) duty while Keeley was trying to figure out what was wrong with Jamie. Roy kept me occupied with strategy questions and making sure I knew what was going to happen at the game tomorrow.

The next time we saw either of them was at the movie night. Jamie came in and sat in the front, not even looking in my direction. Then Keeley came in and sat next to Roy passing us both buckets of popcorn.

         “How’d it go with Jamie?” Roy asked, taking the popcorn.

         “Yeah, I fucked it. I made it worse,” Keeley frowned, scrunching her nose.

  ��      “You what?” I whisper cried.

She looked at me in an apology. “Sorry I brought up his hair and-‘”

         “You brought up his hair?” I whispered in disbelief.

         “I thought I was comforting him!” Keeley defended herself. “I’m sorry!”

I shook my head, shoving a handful of popcorn in my face. I couldn’t even focus on the movie, which ended much too soon. As soon as the movie ended, Jamie was up, and out the door and I was up and following him. Keeley squeaked and grabbed Roy to follow.

We chased Jamie outside, just catching him as he started walking down the street. Thus began our chase. Through the streets of Manchester that he trekked through easily. It made me think of him as a kid running around playing games. This was his home turf and he knew it well.

Finally, he led us down a tunnel, except when we made it to the tunnel, he was gone.

         “Where the fuck did he go?” I panted, tired from trying to keep up.

         “You said he went down there,” Keeley pointed at Roy.

Roy shook his head. “No. I said he’s in a tunnel, I didn’t say he was in this tunnel.”

They bickered back and forth but I looked around trying for any sign on him. We jumped as Jamie appeared behind us. I whipped around and stared at him. He looked so odd in the darkness with his hoodie pulled over his head. Almost annoyed that we had followed him.

“Why are you following me?” He asked.

         “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy growled.

         “What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked seriously. “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie and I hadn’t taken our eyes off of each other. I couldn’t say anything, just stare at him, begging him to say something, anything. Just talk to me. But he just shook his head and slid between me and Keeley murmuring a ‘come on’ as he did.

It felt cold. He just brushed right past me, he didn’t even take my hand as he did. Keeley put her arm on me, sending me a comforting glance as we went to follow him. He led us through a neighborhood where some kids were kicking a ball, they shot some insults his way but he didn’t seem to mind.

Finally, we arrived at a door and when Jamie knocked, a man arrived.

         “Hey!” He cried when he saw Jamie at the door. “Jamie!” He threw open the door smiling broadly.

         “How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled back at him. “Uh, this is Keeley, that’s Roy, and this is… this is (Y/N).”

Simon’s eyes darted over to me before looking back at Jamie. I felt so helpless in this situation. Jamie wasn’t talking to me, Roy and Keeley couldn’t get through to him and now we’re standing at some random house in the middle of Manchester the night before a really big game.

He let us in and Jamie started walking around the hallway, seemingly looking for someone.

         “Georgie, we’ve got visitors,” Simon called up the stairs.

A voice called back from upstairs. “What was that love? Someone at the door?”

Then a woman appeared at the top of the stairs, letting out a shriek of excitement when she saw Jamie at the bottom of the stairs.

         “Hi, mummy,” He greeted, the smile on his face growing by the second. She rushed down the stairs and hugged him tight.

Mummy? Oh my god. This was his childhood home. I wanted to leave, I needed to get out of here. I tried to back up but hit the closed door behind me.

         “Mummy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley, and this hairy prick’s Roy,” he started, not taking his arms off of his mother. “And back there, is… (Y/N).”

Again, Georgie’s eyes darted towards me quickly, then back to Jamie. “I’d come to give you a hug, but I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie picked her up and carried her down the hall, leaving Roy, Keeley and I reeling in the wake of whatever is going on.

We sat on their couch, cookies in hand as Jamie cuddled with his mother, prattling on about some asshole on twitter who made fun of his hair. I played with the cookie in my hand, trying to look at Jamie but he wouldn’t look at me. Why wouldn’t he look at me?

         “Babes, do you wanna give them the grand tour?” Georgie suggested. “You know, show them around a bit?”

         “Yes!” Simon clapped his hand. “Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka, my laboratory.”

He took us in the kitchen, then upstairs where he let us into a small room. He flicked on the lights.

         “And here’s the main attraction,” he announced. “Jamie’s room!”

My eyes widened as the three of us filed into his room. It was filled with football trophies and ‘A’ papers and other certificates with Jamie’s name on them. I turned around and saw Roy’s poster on the wall. It brought a smile to my face. Little Jamie Tartt who loved football and loved Roy Kent. Now Roy Kent had just followed him around Manchester because he was so worried about him.

Simon closed the door behind him, revealing yet another poster, this one of Keeley. Oh, Jamie… he was going to throw a fit when he found out. I looked around the room, at the posters, at the trophies, at the pictures. At the life that was Jamie Tartt before his father was back in his life. This Jamie was coming back, and he needed help to get there. I couldn’t just leave him now.

         “I should go… I need to… I’m gonna…” I trailed off, opening the door and walking out.

I padded down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. I heard him and his mother chatting in the other room and knew I shouldn’t listen in, but something drew me to listen in.

         “Jamie… your father, he is who he is,” Georgie cooed. “And like it or not, you’ve ended up being who you are so that you can prove him wrong. And you are amazing. You are.” I felt a smile come over my face as I heard her praise him. “When you come on for England? Oh. Jesus, Jamie, I wept. I bawled my fucking eyes out.”

I bit my lip, feeling tears come to my eyes. Jamie had so much love in his life. From me, from Roy and Keeley and from his mum. He was just so afraid to accept it. She went on.

         “And, yeah, your dad will be in the stands tomorrow, pissed out of his head, rooting against you. And it won’t matter. You don’t have anything to prove to that toe rag. You’re not lost, my sexy little baby. You’re just not sure which direction you’re going in... yet.”

I heard them shuffle for a second, probably hugging and I knew I should go.

         “And something tells me, that girl standing in the hall is going to help you,” Georgie finished. My eyes widened. How the fuck did she know? “Come on out, love, you think I didn’t memorize the way it sounds when someone’s sneaking down the stairs.”

I peeked into the room, and saw Jamie still curled up on his mom’s lap. I let out a short laugh but it quickly ended as I took an incredibly shaky breath.

         “Sorry…” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Georgie waived me off, patting Jamie’s shoulder so he’d sit up. “Don’t apologize, dear, the two of you should chat, I think.”  She hopped up off the sofa, leaving Jamie sitting there and came over to hug me. I was surprised by the hug but happily accepted it. She leaned back and kissed my cheek.

         “Thank you,” She murmured. “For taking care of my boy.”

I felt my breath hitch and I nodded. She patted my shoulder before exiting the room. Now it was just Jamie and me. He wouldn’t even look at me, just chewed on his hoodie jacket and played with his fingers. I walked over and sat next to him on the sofa, not close enough to touch, even by accident.

         “Jamie I-“

         “Listen, (Y/N)-“

We both started at the same time, talking over each other.

         “You go first, Jamie,” I offered but he shook his head.

         “No, you, please,” he motioned for me to continue.

I looked at him, begging for him to look at me. I reached out and grabbed his hand, tired of not being able to touch him, and brought it to my lap.

         “Jamie I…” I tried to form the words that I needed to say. “I’ve been so fucking worried about you. And you won’t even talk to me, you won’t even fucking look at me.” I felt that familiar ball in my throat as a sob tried to make its way up, but I swallowed it down. “And… and if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I understand…”

         “What?”

         “But… please just tell me because this is excruciating.” I pushed on. “Jamie, I love you so fucking much it hurts me to see you struggling. I want to help you, to be there for you. But if you don’t want me… that’s okay. You don’t need to want me.”

         “(Y/N), please- “

         “Just let me finish,” I silence, squeezing his hand. “But I do need you to know that, whatever happens, you have changed my life. You have shown me what love is and that will never change. Okay?” Finally, I dragged my eyes up to look at him. His eyes matched the same shiny expression of mine. Unshed tears, brimming in his eyes. “I think you are amazing, okay? And that’s never going to change.”

Finally, I was done. He turned towards, finally, for the first time all night, taking both my hands in his.

         “God, (Y/N),” He sounded breathless. “I don’t want to leave you. God, I need you so bad… I need you every single day and I… I was afraid that I was too much for you. I was waiting for you to turn on me, or hate me, or something because I know I always muck it up.” His hands rubbed over mine gently.

“I knew you were stressed about this game, and I didn’t want to worry yah anymore. But I… I guess I fucked that up as well.” He laughed a bit before pausing again. “Everyone’s expecting something of me. Richmond, Man City, my dad, you. And I’m afraid I’m going to let all of you down then you won’t want me around no more.”

         “Oh, Jamie,” I moved close to him, grabbing his hand with both of mine, moving so our arms were touching. He melted into my touch. “Your whole life, you’ve been playing football for someone else. For your dad, for me, your mum. I think tomorrow, you should try playing for you.” He looked over at me, his eyes big and round. “Because I’m going to be proud of you no matter what, and so will your mum. So, make yourself proud. I think you’ll surprise yourself.”

His eyes looked back and forth between mine, and I smiled at him, trying to ignore the tears that slipped out of my eyes. I brought my hand up to his face, rubbing away some tears on his cheeks. He leaned forward and bumped his head against mine, resting his forehead on my temple.

It felt so nice to feel him on me after not touching him for so long, I pressed my nose into his cheek, taking a deep inhale. I missed him.

         “Just… talk to me next time…” I begged, quietly. “Please.”

I felt him nod against me before knocking my nose aside with his and sealing his lips over mine. I kissed him back readily, eagerly, feeling so at home again. I fight the urge to deepen the kiss and pull back after a moment, laughing breathily.

         “Guess where Roy and Keeley are right now?” I breathed out, smiling giddly at him.

He frowned, looking confused. “Where?”

         “Sitting on your bed, probably staring at the posters you have of them.”

         “Oh, god.”

We made our way upstairs, and when we opened the door to the room, Keeley and Roy flew apart from where they’d obviously been kissing just before we opened the door. Jamie and I looked at each other.

         “Sorry to interrupt,” Jamie chuckled. “But we really should get going.”

Keeley popped up first. “We’re ready!”

Roy however, sat for a moment longer before standing up and stalking out the door, patting Jamie on the shoulder as he did. Jamie stood for a moment longer, staring at his childhood room. I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my chin on his shoulder.

         “You ready, babe?” I murmured, kissing his cheek.

He looked down at me smiling. “Yeah, I am.”

The stadium at Manchester was thrumming with excitement as we walked into the stadium. I paced in front of the bench. This was an important game. If we wanted any shot at winning the Premier league, we needed to win this game. The boys filed out onto the field and as Jamie appeared the whole stadium erupted in boos. This was not going to be an easy game for us.

Man City played dirty, especially against Jamie, constantly knocking him off the ball and knocking him to the ground. I could tell he was getting frustrated, pounding the ground with his fists in anger.

         “C’mon Jamie! Get back up!” I called to him after a particularly hard fall. He shook his head and sprung up off the ground. Then he orchestrated a beautiful goal between him, Bumbercatch, and Colin. It was beautiful, he was so clearly ahead of everyone else when it came to his passes.

But honestly, Van Damme was saving this game. I lost track of the number of saves he made on the goal. So far, we’d been lucky, but our chances were running thin. Then Van Damme got away from the goal for just a second and Man City got in the gap. It looked like an equalizer when Jamie came out of nowhere and basically flipped to block the score.

It was an incredible feat and we all let out a collective sigh of relief as the game continued. But Jamie didn’t get up. I found myself grabbing onto Roy’s arm, my heart stopping, waiting, begging him to get up.

He rolled around on the ground for a minute, Isaac running over to check on him, but Jamie waved him off. He stood up, flexing his foot and trying to push on. He made it about halfway across the field before he fell again, unable to push past the pain. My grip on Roy tightened and I felt him tense as well.

         “Ted, let me go talk to him, please,” I said to Ted as Jamie was helped off the field.

         “No, no, no, no, you’re not going over there, let me,” Ted brushed me off. He was right. I wouldn’t be able to help if I went over there. But I felt my heart racing as I tried to restrain myself from rushing to his side, ensuring that he was okay.

I glanced up at the scoreboard. We were still 1-0 against Man City, Pep stood on the sideline, pacing just as I was.

         “(Y/N), calm down, focus on the game,” Roy insisted. “Jamie knows how to take care of himself.”

He was right, of course, Roy was always right. And as he said that Ted came jogging back towards us.

         “We’re gonna give him a couple minutes,” he told us. “He’s gonna be fine.”

I grumbled, looking over at where Jamie was being worked on by the physio team. Jamie would soldier on; he would make sure he could get out there. I saw him, looking around, watching for any sign of his father who’d been suspiciously missing this whole game.

Roy nudged me, telling me to focus on the game. But the game was bleak. Man City continually putting shots on the goal and Van Damme stopping them each time. Ted made his wave back over to Jamie. I wanted to go with him, just let me talk to him, but Roy held me back.

         “Let Ted do his thing, yeah?” He told me. “Jamie’s a smart lad.”

I nodded, trying to focus on the game. The back and forth as the ball went in and out of possession. I could hear it again, the cheers, the calls, the look as I ran on the field scored a goal. It was right there in front of me again.

         “Here he comes,” Beard mentioned, pulling me from my daze.

Jamie was up, hoping and adjusting his foot. He was going to go out there. He walked towards the substitution area. The crowd booed and jeered at him as he walked past but he just smiled, sticking his tongue out as he patted his Richmond logo. Then he looked over at me. I nodded at him, trying to remain Zen in his moment. He sent me a wink and a cocky smirk as he started out onto the field.

What happened next can only be described as art. Isaac sent the ball down the field where Jamie gained possession of it quickly. He ducked inside and spiraled around several Man City defenders. All eyes were fixed on Jamie as he floated, effortlessly, around the field.

It was astonishing to watch. The way he moved was incredible, moving with his brain three steps ahead of every dribble and swerve. No one could touch him. Then he sent it flying through the air and the world stood still. My eyes on Jamie, not the ball, as the ball made a loud swish into the goal.

The world exploded as the team cheered but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Jamie. I felt my vision get a little blurry as tears crowded in my eyes. The feeling in my chest could only be described as immense pride and joy. I felt my heart trying to burst right out of my chest as the boys tackled Jamie in a hug.  Roy patted me on the back and I looked over at him seeing the same astonished expression on his face that I had on mine.

Shortly after that, Ted pulled Jamie out, not wanting to push him any further. He started to come off the field and something incredible happened. The stadium applauded him. The whole stadium, Richmond and Manchester City fans alike standing and applauding Jamie as he started off the pitch.

I saw the moment he realized it was for him the emotion filling his face as his hometown saluted him. His talent, his ability, his prowess. I covered my mouth, tears of joy springing from my eyes as I watched his emotional face leaving the pitch. He looked over at me as he finally made his way off the pitch. I didn’t want to go over to him, and he didn’t want to come over to me but we both knew. The expression we shared of mutual love and respect that we had for each other spoke more than any words I could say to him right now. I nodded at him, and he nodded at me.

The game was over shortly after that as we won. We celebrated the whole way home, singing and screaming and drinking the whole bus ride back to Richmond. When we got back to the club, I knew I wanted to speak to Jamie but first I had to do something for myself, and I was scared bonkers.

         “Ted…” I ventured, staring at my desk.

         “What’s kickin’, little chicken,” he responded, putting his phone down to face me. I let myself laugh at his greeting.

I looked up at him, rolling my thoughts around in my head. What I was going to ask, what I was risking here. But I couldn’t ignore the sound rushing in my ears anymore.

         "Ted, what if I didn’t coach anymore.”

It didn’t take me long to find Jamie after my talk with Ted. He was sitting in the physio room with his foot in a bucket of ice. Top tier medicine people. I opened the door and he put down his phone when he saw me.

         “Hey,” he greeted, a lazy smile coming over his face.

Seeing him now, alone, just the two of us, I couldn’t help the smile that came over my face.

         “Jamie Tartt,” I said simply.

He reached for me, and I took his hand letting him pull me closer to him. His arms wrapped around my waist, and I brought mine up to hold his face delicately in my hands.

         “You are incredible,” I continued, rubbing his cheeks with my thumbs. “You are just so incredible.” He grinned at me and pressed up to kiss me. I hummed into the kiss for a moment before pulling back. “I am so proud of you.”

         “Yeah?” His eyes were big and wide.

         “Yeah,” I responded, smoothing out his hair.

He kissed me again but pulled back quickly. “And you know that?”

         “What?” I asked, smiling at his mischievous look.

         “I’m proud of me, too” he told me, his face bright.

I was overwhelmed with the amount of joy and pride and happiness I felt in that moment. Jamie spent his whole life trying to make someone else happy and now, maybe for the very first time, he’s made himself happy.

I kissed him this time, hard. He started to lean back onto the table letting me fall on top of him when the door opened behind us.

         “Oi! Get a room,” Roy’s gruff voice called out.

         “Quite literally, we did, grandad,” Jamie shouted back, not taking his eyes off of me. I giggled and sat up to get off him.

Jamie whined, pouting at me but I waved him off. “Welcome to the celebration!”

Keeley and Roy came in with bottles of champagne. My conversation with Ted could wait until tomorrow. Right now, it was the four of us, Jamie’s hand in mine, Roy and Keeley laughing with us. A family. We were a family.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @snubug @rana030 @ems-alexandra @jaymum @imfalling-inlove @littleesilvia @eugene-emt-roe

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil’s Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two

I’ve loved seeing y’all’s comments so far 😈 This is the most evil I’ve ever felt when posting a fic

Warnings: Hotch being a dick (but get used to that bc it’s not stopping); brief non-descriptive smut at the end (the REAL smut comes later dw)

Don’t forget to follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be notified when a new chapter goes up!

Two: Was it obvious to everybody else? — “No Time To Die” by Billie Eilish

Aaron seemed to be doing better after a few more weeks. He settled in more, and got back in the groove of the BAU. You encouraged him to come out for drinks or dinner with the team, and he actually agreed. Probably because you were there, but you didn’t talk about that.

You didn’t talk about how he ended up coming home with you, or vice versa. How most days you woke up next to each other, no clothes separating you. How it really wasn’t appropriate for a boss to date an employee, especially in the FBI.

But you kept things professional in the BAU office. No one knew any different. Even out with the team, you kept your distance. You stood across the table from him most nights at the bars, to exercise restraint when you had alcohol in your system. Never mind the fact that he left first, and you shortly after, but you came in separate cars, so no one suspected a thing.

He was smiling more, laughing just a little. He had his moods, his moments when the grief manifested as irritation that he couldn't hide. His short sentences made their appearances, but they did before.

Hotch really seemed to be doing better, and everyone was relieved, happy for him.

Until the next case.

Everyone saw it. The similarities to what happened with Foyet were downright uncanny. The phone call, the taunting, right down to the husband coming home to find the mother and child murdered before he was murdered as well.

Everyone saw the sudden change in Hotch.

You kept a watchful eye on him as JJ gave the case. You weren’t the only one watching Hotch, but you were definitely the least discreet. And he noticed, locking eyes with you once and returning your concerned gaze with a frustrated glare.

“Wheels up in 15,” Hotch said, standing and scooping up his files. “Y/N, I need to speak with you in my office.”

You followed him, shrugging your shoulders to the rest of the team when they gave you questioning looks. You were sure he was upset that you kept watching him, but considering how things had been going lately for the two of you, you thought he might want…something else. You tried not to let your excitement show.

Hotch stood in his office with his hand on the door, waiting for you. He shut it behind you.

“Do we have a problem?”

You took a step back, blinking in shock. Never mind on the sex, then. “Excuse me?”

“Do we have a problem?” Hotch repeated. He hadn’t raised his voice, but he didn’t need to.

“No, sir,” you answered. It had been a while since you spoke to him this way, where he was very clearly your boss, Agent Hotchner, and not Aaron who you took showers with. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, which you knew was a lie. “We have somewhere to be.”

You nodded. “Let’s go.”

+++

You sat away from Hotch on the plane, opting for a spot on the couch next to JJ. He was unreasonably angry with you at the moment, and you had no idea why, but you were determined to find out.

When he excused himself to the bathroom, you leaned closer to JJ. “Is it just me, or is he on edge?”

She didn’t need you to specify who he is. She nodded with wide eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on. This case went straight to his desk and he approved it before even showing it to me,” she said. “I don’t even know if we’ve officially been invited in. I’m trying to figure that out before we get there.”

“What?” you hissed. He never did that. “JJ, that’s not good.”

“I know,” she nodded, looking down at her file. Quietly, she mumbled, “It’s so similar.”

You heard the bathroom door open, so all you did was silently nod in reply. The details were too similar, and if he personally approved the case…

He shouldn’t be back at work. You knew in your gut that day that it was too soon. Things were going so well, you thought maybe you were wrong, maybe being back at work was what he needed to stay sane. But this was bad, especially for him.

Garcia said he passed his psych eval, but that means nothing to profilers. All of you know how to answer those questions correctly to get back to work, even if you shouldn’t be back. Everyone has done it at least once after being injured, but the situations have never been as bad as Hotch’s.

He should be retired. You knew it, even though you’d hate to see him gone.

“Y/N, I want you to come with me and Morgan to the crime scene,” Hotch announced, startling you. “It’s a big home, so we’ll need to split up. JJ, set up at the precinct with Reid, we need to know everything we can about this family. Get Garcia to send any and all information over. Emily, go with Rossi to some of the neighbors, maybe they noticed something leading up to this.”

Everyone nodded, knowing their next steps. You kept your eyes purposefully away from Hotch’s, wondering how the crime scene was going to go over with him.

+++

Morgan drove to the crime scene (you were surprised Hotch let him) and you sat in the backseat, able to share glances with Morgan through the rearview mirror.

Out of everyone on the team, Morgan is the most likely to ask the difficult questions, no matter who it is. Hotch wasn’t exempt from Morgan’s curiosity.

So you were not surprised when Morgan voiced the concerns that had been swirling in your head.

“Hotch, listen,” Morgan began, and you knew exactly where it was going. “Are you sure you want to go to the crime scene?”

“Yes,” Hotch replied, quick and sharp. “Why?”

Morgan shrugged, though you both knew the answer. “I noticed some similarities in the case file.”

“To?”

You sighed. His stubbornness was going to make this case unbearable. “To Foyet,” you blurted, ripping the bandaid off. “I know you saw it too.”

Hotch was quiet for a moment. “I did.”

“Okay,” Morgan said. “If it’s too much, Hotch, that’s okay. You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s fine,” he snapped, his temper already rising. “If it wasn’t, I’d be elsewhere. I don’t need to be micromanaged.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Morgan snapped back, becoming just as irritated. “I’m here for you, man. I know none of us understand what you’ve been through, but we’re looking out for you.”

“Thanks.”

You shared a look with Morgan in the rearview mirror, raising your eyebrows at each other.

+++

Aaron stood idly in the living room. The father, Jonathan, was killed there. Behind the couch, a blood stain soaks into cream carpet.

Family pictures decorated the walls, mostly of the daughter, Elise. Very few had the mother, Georgia, next to the father. Marital problems were brewing just under the surface.

A lamp laid across the back of the couch, the shade ripped and crooked. The struggle lasted longer than the police initially thought. Aaron knew it had. He remembered. The fury that ignites when a father sees his wife and son together, dead, mutilated like animals.

Even if Jonathan was never going to win the fight, he was determined to do damage before he went down. To make the unsub pay. Aaron wouldn’t be surprised if the unsub has bruises and cuts at the very least, a broken rib or two at most.

Upstairs, Aaron could hear your and Morgan’s muffled voices and soft footsteps. He remembered how silent the house was when he arrived, when Foyet was hiding. No one moved, no one breathed. The house braced itself for what was to come.

Aaron turned toward the staircase, heard his body tumbling down on top of Foyet’s. The groaning of pain, he thought one of Foyet’s ribs broke then. Or maybe it finally broke when he kicked him.

The glass coffee table was cracked, surprisingly not shattered, but one more hit would’ve done it.

One more hit. One more. Just one more.

Aaron closed his eyes, his face warm with the memory of blood splattering his skin. Knuckles cracking from punch after punch after punch. Foyet had long gone silent, all that was left was the sound of Aaron’s heartbeat pounding in his ears.

His fists clenched. When he got his hands on this unsub…

“Nothing identifiable upstairs,” you said.

Hotch opened his eyes. He didn’t hear you or Morgan come down. You both insisted on taking the second floor, where the mother and daughter were murdered, and Hotch didn’t argue. He wanted to be left alone.

“It doesn’t look like they struggled,” Morgan added. “They might have known him.”

“Or he used a ruse,” Hotch said, his words clipped.

“Or that,” you nodded, not wanting to argue with him. “It doesn’t look like they suffered. Torture was not part of this.”

Hotch didn’t look at you. He knew what you were trying to do. And he didn’t want to hear it.

“The father struggled with our unsub for a while,” Hotch noted, pointing out his observations. “Our unsub is in shape, as was the father.”

“Garcia said the father had a gym membership,” Morgan supplied. Garcia had called while you were upstairs with some extra details and to check on Hotch.

“Both of you go there next,” Hotch said. “I’ll go back to the precinct.”

“Alright,” you said, glad to get him out of the house.

+++

After dropping Hotch off at the precinct, you and Morgan headed straight to the gym where the father regularly went.

Unfortunately, it turned up empty. The manager gave you and Morgan full access to all of the security footage, and you were able to see Jonathan on it, but nothing suspicious. You sent all of the tapes to Garcia to review more closely, but you didn’t think anything would come out of them. (Nothing did.)

Hotch finally told everyone to get some sleep around ten, but to be back at it by seven the next morning. It took some convincing, but you got him to get in the car with you.

“Even if you don’t sleep,” you said. “You can still shower and relax. Get out of the suit for a few hours.”

He smirked. And nodded.

And ended up in your bed just an hour later.

Not a single hint of alcohol was on his lips. His hair was wet from a shower, and his back was still damp. He barely made it out from under the water before throwing clothes on to come next door to see you. And you barely had enough time to register what he was there for before he was hovering over you on the bed.

“Please,” he whispered, toying with the hem of your t-shirt. “Let me.”

It didn’t take much more than that. You had wanted this for so long.

Clothes flung in every direction; you’d find them tomorrow morning at some point, when it mattered. It didn’t matter at the moment. The only thing that did was feeling Hotch’s skin on yours, feeling his fingertips tighten on your hip bones.

All he wanted was to make you feel good, to apologize for his mood in this one way that he knew you’d understand. He didn’t mean it when he got sharp with you, not really. He never wanted to. It always just happened. He couldn’t ever control it.

Somehow, with no words at all, you understood. “I know,” you murmured over and over, threading your fingers through his hair. With every kiss, every thrust, every breath, you knew. You knew what he wanted to say, but was too afraid to utter. You knew. You knew him.

[lixiebokie]

sorry i love you

genre: lee felix x reader, hwang hyunjin x reader college au; dancer!felix x artist!reader x artist!hyunjin, fluff, angst

masterlist

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chapter 1: dorm parties

“do you think everyone has a soulmate?” felix thought for a moment popping another cherry into his mouth.

“i would like to hope so.” he responded eyes not leaving the view of the open city from the small window of bedroom. he watched as the car zoomed past and people walked past. “i hope i have a soulmate.”felix broke his gaze now looking at y/n. “are you serious? ofcourse you have!”

you were 15 then. everything was so different. felix was so different. 15-year-old him would have never threw a house party like this. so full that the wriggle past people was almost impossible or loud booming rave music that you both would make fun of together.

but everything had changed. of course it had you were no longer teenagers, now young adults who had classes tomorrow morning but in lixs famous words ‘deal with it in the morning.’

“excuse me.. sorry..”

“hey move the fuck out the way!” nessa shouted as y/n watching the crowd of people part and nessa walked through. the scene was what she imagine moses would look like parting the sea. she was always so confident but no matter what she never switched up no matter how much attention she got.

unlike felix.

“abit harsh ness.” the other girl rolled her eyes playfully.

“if you want a job done you have to do it.”

y/n still doesn’t know how she manage to land a best friend like nessa kate.

if life was a movie she’d be the it girl. everyone loved her, never afraid to speak her mind yet still able to keep her opinions respectful until it didn’t need to be.

“so, you’re going to find a cute boy to talk to and i’m going to find minho. we’ll meet back in 40?” she watched her hair flick around as she turned as if she was looking for someone.

“minho? why?” y/n asked. it was obvious nessa had a thing for him but that was something only y/n knew. everytime she seen him on campus she’d send him a sweet smile or a shy ‘hi’ if she was feeling confident. usually followed by y/n trying to dodge felixs eyes trying to catch hers. the rest of the group shit on felix for ditching them for him how would they react if nessa started dating him? especially hyunjin..

“i just want to talk to him..” she shyed away looking off to hide her smile.

“hm or kiss h-“

“okay bye love you. ttyl!”

——

felix looked gorgeous tonight. dyed blonde locks pushed back with a few strands hanging over his eyes. black outfit tightly wrapping his tiny figure, his sleeves pulled up that the veins in his arms were visable.

his freckles were y/n’s favourite thing on lixs face. they weren’t as visable as usual but still could be see up close.

he was just.. stunning.

when felix had found y/n’s eyes he couldn’t help but smile across the room to her. he lifted his arm motioning her to come over to him.

“im so happy you’re here.” he shouted over the music close to her ear. she was tense from how close he was and his hands on her arms holding his balance.

“it’s..full.”

“i know. crazy..” the song changed and so did felixs mood. his mouth widened into a smile and his eyes went big showing the blue contacts he’d put in.

“this is my song!” he shouted loud enough that she could hear clearly over the music.

one thing about felix that never seemed to change was the love he had for dancing. the song was familiar, his first or second dance recital he had perform this song with a few of his team mates.felix took a few steps back letting go of y/n’s arms and began to recall the moves. they weren’t perfect, but how perfect could they in a room crowded with people. but almost accurate.

felixs dream had never to be a dancer, it was something he did for fun. just for fun. he wanted to be a baker. open his own bakery on lonely street, the street opposite the beach so he’d have the view of a life time while doing what he loves.

so when he changed his culinary major to dance everyone was quite shocked. something was off about it. that was until he told the others about how his new friends had offered him a place on their dance team. also known as the schools dance team and one of the most talented in the country.

y/n watched as a circle had formed around felix as he kept dancing. he turned to her showing a smile after seeing the attention he’d gained, not missing one move. finally finishing he stuck a pose as people whistled and cheered for him.

“that was good, blondie.” minho wrapped his arm around the shorter boys shoulder.

“thanks min.” minho pulled back now looking towards y/n would still awkwardly stood with them. he was intimidating, leader of the dance team, there was rumours that even if one mistake was made he have a show made of you.

hopefully felix was able to keep up..

“oh, um this is y/n.” goosebump rised where ever minhos eyes landed on her. he looked back up leaning forward to shake her hand. “she’s my friend.”

friend. yes not best friend this wasn’t high school anymore.

his arm slapped the top of his thigh as he pulled back, straightening his back and looking back to felix.

not even a hello?

“i should go find hannie before he tries to swing off anything.” minho stepped back rocking on his heels, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“good idea, i’ll find you later.” felix nodded and the older awkwardly walked off in a swift manner.

“he’s.. nice.” y/n stuttered out trying to make some sort of small talk but also wanting to get that awkward encounter out her mind.

felix turned from back around his shoulder. “he’s just shy.”

“lee minho, shy?” felix nodded.

“believe it or not he didn’t properly talk to me until i joined danceracha. hannie had to do all the talking.”

and the tension was back.

no matter how close her and felix were nothing could stop the thought that they no longer knew each other. y/n couldn’t even remember the last time a conversation was held for longer than five minutes.

felix wasnt like nessa.

he let the attention get to him.

it wasn’t bad at first, puberty hit and he started getting flirted with, going on dates. it was whatever but then he got cozy with the frat boys and switch his major from culinary to dance. two things he loved but something in the way he followed lee minho around campus seemed to be strange. then felix started partying, doing frat things even when he wasn’t apart of it.

he didn’t care for uni anymore it was more of a live life now thinking about it later mentality one felix never use to have. live fast, love dance. the moto of his dance team really reflected his new way of living. none of it affected y/n as much as the others hated it. well except she was slowly becoming more distance with the boy she was in love it.

“i should go find-“

“actually i wanted to ask you something.”

felix interrupted before she could walk off.

yes? she wanted to ask. anything for you felix.

but instead she turned back around and just looked at him, waiting for him to finish what he wanted.

“the girls dance team, you know the one hyunjins sister is in, wants a new logo. i showed them a few of things you’ve drew and they’d love to meet you.”

y/n sighed. does he really expect her to want to do more drawing on top of her uni work?

“you don’t have to but i thought it would be nice. and i’m friends with some of them. it might be nice to get close with some of them, it must be tiring only having nessa for your girl problems.” is he serious right now?

y/n shrugged. “couldn’t you ask hyunjin?”

“you think hyunjin is going to agree to work with ‘preppy bitches’?” felix air quoted hyunjins words before throwing down his hands looking with a dumbfounded expression.

chan: haven’t seen jinnie for a while is he with you?

y/n glanced at her phone then looked back up at lix.

“ill think about it”

“great!” felix answered before walking off to meet minho and the rest of dance friends.

you: no, i’ll go see if i can find him.

it was a surprise hyunjin didn’t end up like felix. he was just as attractive: tall, long healthy brown shoulder length hair, dumpling face with a piercing gaze and great sense of style. but hyunjin didn’t let just anyone get close to him.

he wasn’t shy for say, just not outspoken.

“hey have you seen hyunjin?” y/n asked walking up to seungmin surrounded by his music friends. he shrugged. “check lixs room?”

“oh y/n!” she could tell the voice out. she was caught up to by a few girls on two or so one being yeji, hyunjins younger sister.

the two other girls she recognised as girls on her team.

“felix told us you’re designing our new logo. that’s so neet!”

“well you know me.” she awkwardly laughed with the girls as they looked at one another. she couldn’t believe felix had already told them she would do it. even after minutes prior telling him she wasn’t sure. if he didn’t want to let anyone down no way should that have anything to do with her.

“come get a drink with us?” yeji linked her arm guiding her to the kitchen.

“i really shouldn’t.. im suppose to find-“

“it’s just one, then we’ll let you go. promise.” in the kitchen there was lots of girls all wearing the same dance jacket.

she started to feel nervous as they got closer and the girls all turned to smile at them. their was also a boy, dark hair and small frame. he stood with them but went quiet when they reached them.

“everyone this is y/n. she’s gonna be designing our logo.” the girls all showed her welcome and even a few gave a hug to show their appreciation. there was no backing out now.

she’d rather stress and overwork herself than have 15 angry dancers on her back at all times especially when one was her friends sister and someone she use to be quite close to.

yeji had spent about 20 minutes talking to her about how her uni life was going so far and how she was enjoying everything and her new friends. every other minute she was receiving texts from chan asking her were she was, how hyunjin was. she found other times herself watching felix in the corner of her eye as he spoke to a group of girls. some old one direction song blasting through the speakers next to do the drinks made it almost impossible to hear anyone.

“it’s been so long since we spoke-“

“listen yej i appreciate this but i really need to get to hyunjin.”

“why is something wrong?” he eyes turned doe like and big at the mention of her brothers name. face suddenly filled with worry.

“no he’s fine, just gonna check on him.”

“ahh true, he’s never been a party person. how are we even related?” she laughed looking into y/n’s cup.

“you’ve had barley any drink. want me to go check up?”

she passed her drink to her. “no ill be fine, it was nice catching up.”

——

“found you!” y/n peeked in finding hyunjin sat on felixs small bed. legs crossed with his sketch pad rested on them.

he gave her a small smile as she walked in quietly closing the door.

“just had to escape your sister and her friends.” y/n joked and sat down next to him.

hyunjin rolled his eyes and scoffed. “what about felix?”

“hm? what about him?” y/n peeked up at his name making hyunjin chuckle.

he closed his sketchbook putting it to the side and resting his weight on his arms.

“you spoke to him?”

y/n hummed looking down at the creased duvet. playing with it between her fingers.

“yeah, i spoke to minho aswell. it was terrifying.” hyunjin laughed.

“you spoke to anyone tonight?”

“vanessa.” hyunjin answered pressing at his tiny phone typing a message to someone. “ and chans up my ass making sure i’m okay.”

felixs room was nothing unusual. white walls and laminate floor, a box for his jewellery which stood on top of his drawers of clothes, on the ground next to it a neat folded pile which needed to be put away. but one thing that stood out was a small cork box placed on his desk leant against the wall.

it was full of random shit, a cinema ticket for fast and furious, some photos jotted around of him a dance shows and with the dance team and some of his parents.

not far in front of it stood a framed photo of felix and minho. they were dressed up in one of their dance uniforms. much like the solider uniform cheryl cole wore in her fight for this love music video.

y/n picked it up taking a closer look. felix seemed so happy around minho liked he’d found the older he always wanted but never had.

“what you got there?” hyunjin asked looking over her shoulder.

y/n turned to him not putting down the photo. “you think we were abit harsh on him?”

hyunjin went to scoff but sighed after seeing her sad expression.

“hey i remember this night!” hyunjin avoided and instead pointed to a photo seemly hidden by the photo frame.

she placed it down pulling the photo off its clip.

it was a photo of her. it was from hyunjins eighteenth a night she didn’t remember much of but was one of the best nights of her life. her arms wrapped around felixs neck and his on her waist. both squished together in a big hug but still smiling at the camera. felixs smile wider from his lack of intoxication and eyes red from the flash.

y/n smiled down fiddling with the ends that had creased over time. she felt like she was in that scene from mean girls.

but felix was cady and he wasn’t madly inlove with her like cady was for aaron.

HJ’s 18th

my bff 4 life

was scribbled on the back in felixs swirly writing.

no wonder it had been hidden, felix must have been so embarrassed it wasn’t a good photo to begin with, eyes presented red from the flash and all fuzzy from nessas shaking hands.

y/n felt angry for some reason. it was hidden. the only photo of the group on his stupid cork board was out of sight.

replaced with lee fucking minho.

she threw the photo down making it fly off his desk behind. she didn’t see it land anyway, now truly out of sight.

“i don’t understand why you still like him.“

y/n turned leaning on the desk. what wasn’t there to love about felix? he was kind, and loving. he always put her first, he was ambitious and a great baker. only, only half of that was true now. was she often wondered was she holding onto someone who was no longer there?

“the same way you like nessa.” she shurgged still leaning on the desk behind her.

“except ness isn’t some attention loving-“

the door opened and felix stumbled in. interrupt hyunjin mid sentence.

“please down tell me you were hooking up in my room!” he pinched his nose teasing them.

y/n smiled awkwardly but hyunjin wasn’t as impressed.

he picked up his sketchbook and walked out before felix could say anything else.

felix sighed walking over to his bed to pull out a storage box.

“so, you and hyunjin?”

“it’s not like that..”

felix grabbed rumidged through the box “then what is it?” he asked glancing to her. he grabbed something out the box and pushed it back under the bed. “i thought hyunjin was into ness?” felix propped up his feet so he could hug his knees.

“what are you doing in here?”

“um.. last time i checked this is my room.” he teased rising to his feet. “so?” she sighed. felix had no right to now be interested in hyunjins personal life after bailing on him after 5 years of friendship to play buddies with the dance team.

and hyunjin wouldn’t be happy finding she was going around telling everyone his business.

“i don’t know lix.” felix hummed raising his eyebrow but shurgging off showing he wasn’t as curious as he made out to be.

“oh that reminds me!” he walked to his bedside tide taking a envelope out the drawer.

he came closer to her until he was in speaking distance holding out the card. “happy early birthday from me and the dance team.” she looked to his hand hesitating to take it but she wasn’t going to leave him like that. “i have a comp on your birthday dinner, and i don’t think your friends would want me there anyway.” your friends not our friends. that had just shown felix had completely block the rest of them out of his new stylish life.

it was true, when making invitations to her birthday dinner seungmin had taken felix off the guest list and nessa had to persuade him to put him back on when reminding him of how special her and felixs friendship was but if the group could have it their way, lix would not be there. looks like today is their lucky day.

felix continued on. “but we should go out one night, me and you? to celebrate. not every day you turn 21.”

she nodded taking the card from his hand. “well i better go get this to yeji.” he held up a cropped dance jacket, red with the girls dance team name on the back in diamonds. “she left it last time she was here. so i’ll see you?” and with that felix was gone.

last time yeji was here? excuse me?

🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣

join the taglist!

[blackbeauty15]

summary; He thought you died but he found the women he loved with the sully children, and took her and spider with him. He's not losing you again.

hurt

next chapter

warning; bad writing. angst/hurt. eventual smut in later chapter

Miles stood wide-eyed looking down at his lover from the past, he thought she was dead. but no she was there in front of his face hissing back in hate and in fear for the navi children you were protecting .

Were they your kids ?

he wouldn't be surprised you were everything a man could want. but even after these years he could feel the ivy growing in his chest wrapping around his cold heart and squeezing it.

it's been weeks since you’ve been here. dreamwalkers coming in and asking you the same question ‘ where is jake sully?’ and every time you either hiss or say a smart ass remark in na’vi language.

the general knew you were his past lover and used this to her advantage. she thought maybe if you weren’t talking to anyone else or giving information about jake that miles would be the guy to pull it out of you.

he knew it was gonna be tense and it was , a lot actually.

It made him upset, acting like you don’t know him, like you didn't have an intimate relationship with him.

spider wasn’t any better when being interrogated he would always ask ‘ where is my momma? what are you doing to her?’ He was happy that spider saw her as his mom but hurt that he couldn’t be a part of it, he would never show it though.

snapping out of his thoughts he went to the room he kept you in. you were tucked in a ball in the corner like a scared cat. you hadn’t talked since he found you , well you hadn't been talking english. which made him even more irritated and upset.

slowly stepping into the room miles leaned on the metal table, his tail swaying behind him.

‘ Princess i know you're awake.’ he said smirking, he could see your ears turning to where he was sitting but not your body.

‘ kitten don’t you miss me? the fun we used to have ?’ he said while slowly walking to her.

y/n tensed and slowly raised her head from her knees looking in his eyes . she had not been close to the man she was with in 15 years, of course she missed him but she couldn’t help by feel betrayed by her mind, body and soul for wanting to touch him and wanting him to touch her.

while in thought Miles took advantage of this moment, grabbing her thighs and sliding her legs on the slide of his hips.

y/n hissed ‘ i miss nothing of you’ she said trying to kick her legs out of his grip but he was too strong. miles didn't like that , he didn’t really like what this world had done to you. you used to be submissive and now you wont listen to a damn thing he says.

Miles had enough, ‘ hey, cut that shit out and listen goddammit.’ his voice was stern, the same as you remembered, sending shivers down your spine.

hissing at him again you struggle even more, beating your hands against his chest trying to pull your body from his. ‘ i hate you’ you hissed out.

Miles grabs your wrist , ‘ I know you still know how to follow orders , I said stop goddammit!’

Miles realizes you're not the same person he used to hold, the same person he used to joke around with, you’re not his nerd anymore.he pushes you off of him making you fall on your back , feeling the cold floor.

he stands up quickly ‘ what is wrong with you huh?” pacing back and forwards, stopping when he got no answer.

‘ ANSWER’ he yelled from across the room.

‘ YOU LEFT US’ you yelled staring at him with tears and hurt in your eyes. lowering your head ‘you left us.’ now your voice was nothing but a whisper.

miles ears lowered and looked at the ground. ‘ well you betrayed me.’ he said with hate on the tip of his tounge.

‘ you left us, you didn't even care. you left spider , your own child. you where selfish thinking of no one but yourself. I raised him , I loved him , I fed and washed him. HE CRIES AT NIGHT THINKING ‘ WHY DID HE LEAVE US, WERE WE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HIM’. you shouted standings slowly from your spot and slowly walking to him.

‘ YOU BETRAYED ME. YOU LEFT WITH JAKE , YOU HELPED THOSE BLUE FUCKS. I DIDN'T PLAN TO DIE Y/N , I DIDN'T PLAN TO GET AN ARROW IN MY HEART Y/N.’ at this point it was a shouting match. Both navi’s breathing uneven , chests heaving up and down glaring at each other.

‘ you left us.’ you said regaining your breath looking at him with tears in your eyes.

‘i know’ he says he says sighing taking a step forward

‘you left him’

step

‘i know ‘

‘you left and it hurt’

step

‘ i know’

‘but yet you did it ‘

by his last step you guys were nose to nose.

he rests his head on top of yours slowly wrapping his hands around your waist , he notices you how you leaned into his chest with you cheek against him . he took a huge breath hoping that even though there is pain in this moment it could last forever.

‘ I know but i'm here now, ill make it up to you. i'll make it up to him. ill fix this .’ he said kissing your forehead a and rubbing your back letting you cry all the pain he caused you the last few years. he says with tears in his eyes burying his face in her braided hair.

‘ i hate you’

‘i know ’

@shelbythequeen

so what did you guys think ? should i write a second part ?

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part |Chapter 16

Chapter 15 Chapter 17

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 16: Ya know I hate lies, don’t ya?

Summary: Winter is coming, food is scarce and everyone have their own dramas. Y/N can’t stay out of her family’s problems and Daryl have to take some measures at his own hands.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, family issues, emotional abandonment (?), food deprivation (no eating disorders related). Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 2,444

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love.

It was one more of those cold days, if it wasn’t winter already it was close and you had yet to find a place where all of you could be safe and warm during winter. You were all managing things, the group was starting to be on sync, people had stopped doubting Rick and you were glad about it, he could be a little out of his mind, but people should never doubt he was going to do what’s best for you.

Things were a little odd after everyone learned he killed Shane, and you had to admit that even with all his bullshit it hurt to know he was dead, but you’d rather have him dead than Rick again. You were shocked that Carl had to kill his walker self, but you knew that if he didn’t Rick and him wouldn’t be alive. You wish Lori had understood it before their marriage went to shit and that Rick would stop being so stubborn and not letting her close again.

You were never pregnant, but you knew how lonely it must be for a woman to not have her husband giving her attention, touching her belly or even just talking to the unborn baby. It pained you to see Lori and Rick hurting like that. You tried to help her the maximum, but you knew it wasn’t the same as if Rick was doing all of that. On top of that, you had to go from one to another telling what they wanted to tell each other, but wouldn’t because they weren’t talking.

Daryl had found some small fruits and distributed around the group, the hunt wasn’t good that day. You probably needed to move elsewhere. Not only because of the food, but because after a group of walkers surrounded the old house where you were at, you didn’t stop anywhere like this again. Damn, you needed somewhere to pass the winter. The day was almost over and you’d have to sleep all piled up inside the cars or outside around the fire.

You had your portions of fruits in hand and went to Lori to see if everything was ok. You had had two small berries and thought that was enough, you could go longer without much food, the important thing was to drink water. You approached her and Carl sitting on a log. “How are you? Do you need anything?” You were always asking her this, sometimes she even get annoyed with you, so you would send Carol or Maggie to check on her.

“I’m good Y/N/N.” She said a small sad smile on her face.

“Here, I brought some more fruits for you.” You put the fruits on her lap.

“What about you? You need to eat.” She worried, now was the part you lied to her, it had become easy for you.

“I already ate, this ones are some extras I found. Eat, this is the baby portion.” You smiled, and caressed her showing belly lightly. “If you need anything just tell me, ok?”

Daryl and Rick were talking on some distance, they were where they could watch the camp, but where no one could listen to them. Probably planning the next step, Rick probably expressing his worries to the hunter since he didn’t want the group to panic. You walked in their direction and when you arrived they stopped to talk.

“Were you talking about me? Why did you stop talking?” You asked playfully. You knew they were probably talking men shit that Rick didn’t feel comfortable talking with you, in fact both of you had distanced a lot since the farm. It seemed that he forgot what you said about not keeping things to himself and sharing with you. At least, you thought, he seemed to be sharing with Daryl. You were almost jealous of him being closer to Rick than you. “I’m kidding, ok.” You raised your hand in surrender before they thought anything bad, especially Rick.

“She needs anything?” Rick asked and you almost rolled your eyes, as much as you loved taking care of her you were tired of going back and forth between them doing amends and sending messages.

“Just her husband. Do you think we can get that to her?” You answered seriously. “I know things are shitty but you two should make up. For the sake of Carl and the baby.”

“You don’t understand Y/N. You should stay outside of this.” Gosh, it was so stressful those days. You were not very distant from exploding.

“Yeah. I don’t, I’m just your messenger. That shouldn’t be my job.” You were tired, maybe overreacting and stressed as fuck. “I feel as my parents are ignoring each other and I need to stay in the middle mending things, the thing is, you are not my parents and our parents never did this shit.”

You knew Rick and Lori wasn’t good before the shooting and all, but at that time you remembered Rick was trying everything. He tried to ignore the bad things and be a good husband and father, make things better, but now it was as if he didn’t want to try, his only goal was for everyone to be safe and find a safe place so Lory could have the baby. Feelings or softness were put aside, you couldn’t barely recognize him. You left the two men and went to the road, kicking every small stone you found in your way. People were a little further in the woods close to the fire, you wanted to be alone, that’s why you went to the road.

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. You wanted to break something, but you had nothing to do it and you couldn’t do it to any of the cars. You put your hands on the truck and bended stretching your spine and trying to breath in and out the anger inside of you. God, being in an apocalypse was bringing so many sides of you that you didn’t know before.

“What was that?” You jumped at the archer’s voice right beside you leaning on the car.

“Fuck. Stop being so silent!” You stood up, your heart threatening to jump outside of your chest.

“Why did’ya just go to Lori and then came to us just to fight with Rick?”

“I didn’t. I… it wasn’t like that.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“Yes, it was. Ya could have just answered him something and let it be” he wasn’t the best person to say anything being the biggest hot head you knew, but when he wasn’t the mad one he could see things well from outside.

“I’m tired of this whole situation and I don’t know what to do, so they can be good again.” It was consuming your thoughts for months already. “This is so stupid, they’re acting like kids!”

“Ya should stop worrying so much. Ya can care for them and don’t get involved, ya know? It’s bad for you, I can see it.” Daryl normally was the one needing to be talked to calm down, so this was new for him. He already saw you loosing your temper with Shane, but never with your family.

“In few words, what are you trying to say?” You couldn’t even think straight given to everything you were feeling.

“Mind your own business. Let them solve on their own, or not.” It was simple for him, if someone asked for your advice, you could give, but you shouldn’t let it affect you so much.

“Easier said than done.” You replied your back leaning on the car and looking at the sky in hopes a solution would fall from there, or maybe a lightning would strike you.

You knew he was right, you were too into their problems and it wasn’t making you any good. But you couldn’t help yourself but try to solve everything, you just wanted them well and happy.

Daryl was quiet now, there was other thing he wanted to talk to you about, but it was annoying him so much that he thought he would burst at any moment and the last thing he wanted was to fight with you, but you were asking for it.

Instead, he shoved his hands on his pocket and took a cloth that wrapped something. He opened it and extended his arm in your direction. “Eat.”

You looked down and saw some of the fruits he distributed around your temporary camp. “I already ate.”

“Ya know I hate lies, don’t ya?” He asked and he didn’t even expected an answer you knew it. “And it isn’t a harmless one.”

“How can you even know?” He gave you that look that said ‘I always know.’ and you just rolled your eyes impatiently. Normally, you were the one putting some sense into Daryl and not the opposite. “We’re low on food, I’m worried the baby don’t get enough nutrients to grow healthy.”

“If there’s a little for each of us, you eat your ratio. I’ve been watching you for days and today I knew for sure that you aren’t eating.” You thought about making a joke, but you knew he was really holding to not outburst on you just like you did with Rick. “I always give a bigger portion to her, because of the baby, Carol too. So stop depriving yourself of eating.”

“I’m not hungry.” As soon as you finished saying your stomach betrayed you rumbling as loud as possible.

“Eat. Am I going to need to feed ya so ya eat something?” He rolled his eyes as soon as he heard your stomach complaining.

“Would you?” You raised an eyebrow teasing him.

“If you didn’t have your hands, yes, but this isn’t the case. Start eating. Now.” He commanded his arm still in front of you with the fruits.

“Ok, dad.” You mocked him. In moments like this he thought he had really spoiled you, you were so carefree about joking with him, and at the same time he thought that maybe you were changing him.

You took the cloth with the fruits from his hand and started to eat, his gaze never leaving you. “From now on, we’re going to eat together.” You stopped munching on some to look at him a little bit annoyed. “Dun gimme this look. ‘m gonna make sure ya eating. If we run into trouble, I need ya in condition to fight and protect the group.”

“What about you? Ain’t gonna eat?” If he separated equal portions to everyone, you were probably eating his.

“I have more food in my stomach than ya had in the last week, so ya can knock yourself.” He was a little proud of himself, because if all of this were in other times he’d tell you to starve to death and throw all the fruits on you. “I ate while I was collecting, those ones I kept in case ya didn’t eat. Again.”

You continue to munch on your humble meal savoring all sorts of flavors this fruits had, but that your organism was very thankful you were finally eating. While you ate you hummed some song you didn’t even know and would pout while chewing it all. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes of you, he was angry at you some minutes prior and now he felt like he wanted to kiss your pout and feed you the fruits. You had this power over him.

“What are you looking at?” You asked when you noticed he was staring.

‘Ya being adorable.’, he thought. He cleared his throat and said instead, “Ya need to stop caring too much about the others and start caring about yerself. I admire yer altruism, but ya’re important too.”

“I’ll eat from now on.” Suddenly the cloth in your hand was very interesting. “I’m sorry, didn’t want to worry you.”

He walked till he was in front of you, sometimes you forgot how tall he was and how small you felt close to him. It could scare you in the past, but you always felt safe with him. “Just eat.” He caressed your head, his fingers running on your hair.

You looked at him and was surprised on how soft he could be after lecturing you about not eating. You pursed your lips and looked at him waiting for something. “What’s this?” He asked a smile almost slipping.

“Kiss me.” You pointed at your lips. He snorted and put one hand on each side of your face.

“I dunno… Dun think stubborn girls get to be kissed.” He teased, he didn’t think he would be able to deny you anything. Unless you were risking your life.

“But I did what you said. I ate everything.” You showed him the empty cloth. “Kiss me.”

“Since you were a good girl, ‘m giving you one.” He lowered his face and gave your pouted lips a peck.

“Thank you…”

“Nah, I kissed ya because I wanted to.” He mocked you.

“Not for the kiss asshole! For everything, for telling me when I’m wrong and for taking care of me…” You circled your arms around his waist.

“Ya weren’t wrong, but ya should let people solve their own problems. And ya need to eat and keep yerself healthy.” He said, his arms resting on your shoulders his hands crossing on your back. “I can’t have ya fainting or weak and becoming walker food. I need ya.”

You stared into each other eyes for what seemed like an eternity, but none of you wanted to look away. Damn, you could get lost in him. Both of you had so much to say, and you could see so many feelings into each other’s eyes. You wanted to say how much you loved and appreciated him, but it never seemed like the time. You felt as it wasn’t an issue anymore, telling him about your feelings, but you’d rather show him with your actions than voice the words.

“None of these things are going to happen to me. I’ll be here, with you.” You tiptoed and pressed your lips against his in a chaste and pure way, just to say with no words how you appreciated him.

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[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 5)

A/N: I have so many ideas so i’ve been getting these chapters out like clockwork !!

—

Once Belly got home, she ripped the boys a new one which was hilarious. Conrad just stood there and took the beatings while Jeremiah tried to reason.

Now, it was 1am and I couldn’t sleep. I could sleep if I really tried. My brain was swirling. I needed a drink. I rushed downstairs but didn’t make any noise. Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone.

I went to go turn around, in hopes the shadow hadn’t seen me.

“You can stay.”

wow, thanks for allowing me to.

I spin on my heel to face their silhouette. “I didn’t mean to bother you..”

“It’s basically your house too, yn.” He doesn’t say this with sincerity or kindness, he says it cold. Like It was obvious. Fuck him. Honestly.

I place my hands on the island and sigh, “Why are you such an ass?”

He takes a swing at his beer bottle and then groans, “First Belly, and now you too? Fuck off.”

I felt my heart drop, not just to my stomach, but out my body. So far out I didn’t even want to look at him.

The boy that had been my best friend since I was ten, the first person I ever let see me cry, the boy who taught me how to dance when no one else would. Just looked me in the eye and said that. I felt like fucking throwing up.

“No wonder Aubrey broke up with you.” I said. He looked at me confused and I knew I had gotten him there. Me and Conrad didn’t talk for most of this year, and if we would’ve, then I would know about Aubrey.

I was listening to Steven on the phone a couple of months ago when I found out he had a girlfriend. Then I found out he broke up with her a couple of weeks ago.

He laughed a little, “Grow up, yn.”

“I hate you.”

I saw his face drop for a split second but then return to the cold face he had worn since I had gotten here.

“Okay, that’s great.”

I shook my head and stomped my way upstairs. I didn’t even want to be in the same house with him anymore.

—

Last Summer, Age 15 (Almost 16)

“yn?” I heard him call my name, but I just groaned. He closed my door and then sat next to me on the bed, keeping the lights off.

“Go away, Con.”

He giggled and brushed some hair out of my face. “Please, I wanna go to the beach.”

That’s when I opened my eyes. “Conrad, it’s like 3 in the morning.”

“But it might rain out, I’ve always wanted to see the beach while it’s raining.”

He was right, it never rained in cousins.

Don’t give in.

“Con—”

“Please?” He leaned in close to me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

I felt my cheeks burn, for reasons I couldn’t decide. Not right now.

“Fine. Only because you won’t stop till I do.” No, I did it because he was my best-friend. Maybe even more.

He was still in his suit from the night before, we had all gone to a dinner and came home at 1am. Which was only two hours ago. His hair was ruffled and he looked really cute.

Once we got to the beach it was actually really cold. I was only wearing a shirt and plaid shorts because I thought it would be hot, but I was wrong. Just as we got there, I felt rain drops hit me.

That’s when I felt Conrad lace his fingers in between mine and before I knew it we were kicking each other in the sand. The rain started pouring and I couldn’t see much but I could see him. Always.

For some reason I thought of Belly, and then felt extremely guilty but pushed the thought out of my mind.

The rain stopped within minutes and then it became extremely humid. Soaked, we laid down on the beach, the sand sticking to both of us.

We were close. Really close. Not just like best friend close.

“Thanks for coming with me.” He whispered. I could tell he was embarrassed because he wouldn’t look at me.

“Of course.” I smile, “But you owe me.”

He smirks and I didn’t even realize he was still holding my hand. I didn’t pull away though.

When I woke up the sun was just starting to rise, and neither of us had brought our phones. I was guessing it was around 6am.

When we walked back to the house, it was silent. Not a bad silent though, like a really good one. A smile kept creeping up on my face as I caught Conrad look at me a couple of times. I even let a laugh slip.

“What?” He says through a smile.

“Nothing.” I begin, “This was just crazy..”

Our hands brushed against each other and before I knew it we were interlocked again. The summer house was silent and Conrad shushed me playfully as we walked in, trying not to wake anyone.

“Where have you two been?” A voice says and I immediately pull my hand away from Conrad. We were both smiling and It was hard to hide it.

“Uh, early morning walk on the beach I guess..” I lie.

“mhmm..” Susannah says through a smirk and Conrad’s cheeks go red.

I look at him and my heart is pounding, “I’m gonna.. go upstairs or something.”

“Yeah, you should do that or something.” He says while smirking.

I quickly rushed away and once I got to my room I slammed the door shut. I fell on my bed and texted Frankie that she needed to call me asap.

This felt different. At this moment I didn’t know If i wanted him like a best friend. Had I ever?

—

Present day:

Nothing could top my raging headache. I would bet a thousand times it was because of Conrad. If he had just left me alone, none of this would have happened.

But Conrad never left me alone, even if he tried.

I tossed on a pair of spandex and a cousins shirt, making my way down the stairs, I didn’t bother to bring my phone.

I needed to be at the beach, it calmed me.

As I walked down the steps to our private stretch, I saw the one and only, sitting in the sand. I thought about walking away but he didn’t own the beach, so I kept moving.

He noticed me but then quickly turned away, and I think he was embarrassed. I suppressed my smile and then sat down next to him.

“When did you get out here?” I ask.

“10 minutes ago.”

“Oh.” I say quickly.

We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes before he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his head half buried in his arms. He said it like a little kid who got caught stealing candy.

“For what?” I say, acting oblivious.

“Last night. I didn’t mean it.” He stammered the words so quick almost like he didn’t want me to hear it, of course, I heard.

He pulled his head out of his arms and grabbed a joint and began to light it. I decided to ignore this action.

“I’m sorry too.” I whisper.

I saw his eyes widen for a second but then return back to normal, then he put his joint away and gulped.

“Don’t be.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t want you too.”

For some strange reason I started laughing.

“What, what’s so funny?” He says.

“This is all so crazy.” I say, out of breathe. It was, everything was so crazy when it came to me and Conrad.

Conrad didn’t say anything because I knew he was thinking the same thing. About that night. Times like these I thought we would be okay, and that we could work everything out, but then I remembered everything, and Belly. I can’t do that to her.

—

Conrad went to go and grab some muffins, and eventually I went back to the house. Jeremiah was downstairs alongside Steven, Belly, Laurel, and Susannah.

Susannah turns to me once I walk into the kitchen, “Where have you been?”

I smile, “At the beach.”

Jeremiah looks around, “Hey, where’s Conrad?” I felt everyone’s eyes peer on me and I groan. “How would I know?”

“I bet you he’s smoking pot.” Steven blurts out. We all let out a laugh when all the sudden Conrad, of all people comes through the door with muffins.

“Anyone want some?” He perks up.

“Yes man! First muffin run of the summer.” Steven says, patting the counter in front of him. Conrad places the muffins on the counter.

Conrad looks at me and sends me a half smile, and I could tell that Susannah noticed. She knew.

Belly was happy, and she didn’t seem to notice me and Conrad’s interaction. It was probably because it was her birthday tomorrow.

I grabbed the blueberry muffin, and I slightly frowned when I didn’t see a birthday cake muffin. I felt a head lean over my shoulder and close to my ear.

“They didn’t have any, sorry.” Conrad whispered.

He had read my mind. He still remembered. Jeremiah looked at us weirdly and then continued to eat his muffin. Belly noticed this time. She frowned.

“It’s okay.” I mumble. I could feel his breath touch my ears.

Jeremiah sighed, “I gotta get to the club.” And with that, him and Steven were gone within minutes.

Susannah send a half smile to Conrad, “Connie, don’t you have to be at the marina soon?” Lessons with Cleveland. I had heard about that.

“Besides, I wanna paint you when you come back.” Susannah added.

Conrad scratched the back of his head, and suddenly looked nervous. “Okay.”

After he left, me and Belly were the only ones at the house. I suddenly had the crazy idea to go for a swim. It wasn’t exactly crazy, but it was still something.

So here me and Belly were in the pool, taking laps and occasionally stopping to talk. It was then when she asked me out of the blue, “Have you talked to Conrad recently?”

I felt tense, “Um, I mean not much since we got here.”

“Okay.” She replies. We sat their silent for a minute, and then she said. “He just seems off. And this morning I kinda got a vibe from you guys like you had talked.”

I suddenly felt annoyed. Now i could even talk to him? At one time we had been best friends, and now their were rules? I hated it. It was all ruined.

Breaking the silence, susannah rushed outside, “Girls!We have to go Debb dress shopping!”

Thank God for you, Susannah.

—

Debb shopping was pretty boring. The whole time I thought about me and Belly’s interaction in the pool. We were sisters. Cousins by blood, but sisters at heart. I loved her. I always will. So i’m lying about Conrad, about everything, to save her.

“That was beautiful.” Susannah said as Belly laid out on display for everyone like a doll. She looked great, but it wasn’t Belly. Belly liked simple, I was just picky.

Now it was my turn. My turn to show off. I didn’t want to, but here I was on display for everyone, just like Belly was mer minutes ago.

Belly smiled, “You look so beautiful.”

I looked into the side mirror. It was a beautiful silk white; with straps and not really much design. I loved it though, it was really flattering.

“This is a maybe, we can look for others.” Susannah said. But I loved it. Laurel could tell and so could Belly. All of the sudden I thought about dancing with Conrad. Then I just felt guilty.

—

Conrad’s Pov:

I walked back to the house after giving Cleveland lessons. I saw my mother out on the porch, ready with her painting brushes and canvas. I didn’t want to do it, but I did it for her.

“Sit, Connie” She said, smiling. I suddenly felt sad. But I sat anyways.

She began to paint me, but she had this smug look on her face that only Susannah could make look sweet.

“So, me and Laurel went dress shopping with the girls.”

I nodded my head, “Nice.”

“yn looked beautiful in her dress.” She basically spat out in a loving but flirty manner. I knew what she was doing.

“Belly, too.” She added, attempting to cover her tracks.

“Mom, i’m not doing this with you.”

“What? I cant question you a little bit? You and yn were so close.”

I felt the heat pool in my body.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Tell me at least what happened?” She pleaded.

“We grew apart.” I said, angrily. More than I had intended and then I just felt horrible because Susannah nodded and continued.

Great fucking job, Conrad.

—

That night, I wanted to swim again. But alone.

I got on my bikini, it wasn’t fancy or anything just a plain blue, I kinda blended in with the water.

I wasn’t as good as Belly, I wouldn’t take laps like her. Sometimes I would just dunk my head under the water and sit there. I used to pretend to be a mermaid when I was younger. Under the water all my problems went away, and I would even pretend like I was in the ocean.

I dunked my head under the water, and then came up for air after a couple of seconds. I jumped when I saw him there.

He was sitting on the edge of the pool, dipping his ankles in. “Conrad, you scared me.”

He smiled a little, but it wasn’t a innocent one. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine” I said awkwardly. I dipped my head back under to fix my part, because suddenly I was self conscious.

When I came back up, he was smoking a joint. I rolled my eyes. “You really need to stop that.”

He scoffed, “Why?”

“It’s not good for you, you know that.”

He smirked, “The only reason you knew that is because i told you. I taught you that.”

I felt my cheeks burn a little but it quickly went away, what was he playing at?

“I still think you should quit though.”

Then, he looked up at me and with this smug look on his face, he said, “What will you give me if I do?”

I wasn’t even under the water, but I felt like drowning.

I fucking hate him. I love him at the same time.

“Quit for yourself, jackass.” I dunked my head back under the water, but when I came up he was gone.

If I screamed, would anyone hear?

Tomorrow was Belly’s birthday, my sisters birthday. A day about her. No one else. Conrad could play all these games, but he would only be playing with himself.

Not me. Not anymore.

—

AHHHH guys I promise we’ll get to the drama soon! Anyways susannah knows something guys ;) what do you think happened with Conrad and yn? Next one out sooooon

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