#I know we have a few more chapters left but those chapters aren’t going to fix anything for me

[bxriles]

I gotta be honest, the ending of JJK isn’t doing it for me. It feels underwhelming. And before anyone freaks tf out and tells me that I “can’t read” or that I “didn’t understand the point of JJK” I can promise you that I did. I understand and I can read between the lines and make inferences. I can also promise you that I know just because the ending isn’t my cup of tea, does not mean that the ending is objectively bad. I get all of that.

And yet, I still think the execution was fumbled and I think that’s a bummer. In a desperate need to be *different* from the rest of Shonen manga, I think the last 10-15ish chapters have felt incredibly similar to the rest of the genre. At least, in my opinion they have.

Argue with the wall if this post pissed you off. I’m allowed to post my opinion on my blog.

[rosamariaa]

my top 5 favorite book wolfstar moments

this is all for funsies. I'm going to be very honest here: I don't really think wolfstar is implied in the books, but I feel like if I put my shipper googles I CAN prove that those two were, at least, a bit weird about each other!

1. Remus "ideals" going askrew for Sirius:

We have two moments in the books where we see Remus being pretty ruthless when it came to the war, he thinks that if there's a way to put a enemy down then you should do it:

prisioner of azkaban, chapter eighteen:

"You should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

deathly hollows, chapter 5:

Lupin looked aghast. “Harry, the time for Disarming is past! These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren’t prepared to kill!”

However, when he was talking to Harry about Sirius reciving the dementor's kiss this is what Mr. Lupin has to offer:

prisioner of azkaban, chapter twelve:

[...] Lupin drank a little more butterbeer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the dementors permission to perform it if they find him." [...] "He deserves it," [harry] said suddenly. "You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

This makes me actually go bonkers like... When he found out it was Peter all along he was full on ready to kill him but when he belived it was Sirius doing the same damn thing then suddenly no one deserves it... christ we see you remus lupin, we see you...

2. Moving in thogeter

I don't even have anything to say for this one just.. *gestures vaguely*

Order of the phoenix, chapter 6:

[...] and Lupin, who was staying in the house with Sirius but who left it for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order [...]

It's so funny cos like... he didn't need to do that... no one else is staying there even though it's the order's HQ.

And we know that as poor as Remus is he does have a house (Sirius stays there for a bit at the end of GOF) so he just... moves in... just because. yea.

a little extra scene that it's kinda funny, imagine finding out your teacher and godfather are dating by calling said godfather and said teacher picks up... lol :

Harry opened his eyes to find that he was looking up out of the kitchen fireplace at the long, wooden table, where a man sat poring over a piece of parchment. “Sirius?” The man jumped and looked around. It was not Sirius, but Lupin. “Harry!” he said, looking thoroughly shocked. “What are you — what’s happened, is everything all right?”

3. Remus is Sirius' good boy

Okay I will try not to ramble about this one but... I can't help it. He quite literally calls Remus a good boy you can not make this shit up.

Order of the phoenix, chapter 9:

Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual barklike laugh. “No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge.”

I think what drives me insane about this one is that even though Remus had the same sense of humor as the other boys (although his was quieter and dry), they were a bit different. Sirius himself says that Remus would make them feel ashamed of themselves sometimes and, of course it depends on how you view Sirius, but to me I feel like he is a person that doesn't really put up with things just to please someone and so I feel like if it were a random person he would just go like "Well if you don't like what we do fuck off I guess" but since it was Remus he doesn't get annoyed at all and it makes it seem like he has a soft spot for Remus:

Order of the phoenix, chapter 29:

“Of course he was a bit of an idiot!” said Sirius bracingly. “We were all idiots! Well — not Moony so much,” he said fairly, looking at Lupin, but Lupin shook his head.

likeee that's his boy!!

4. Giving harry a joint present

You see, this one is very funny to me bc I was watching Sex and the city a few weeks ago and there's a scene where Carrie takes Mr. Big as her plus one to a wedding and of course she asks him to put his name on the present and he just. refuses. He has several commitment issues and even tho they were together for months at that point he thought a joint present "was too much".

And naturally my first thought was "oh wow that's so crazy bc in the children's book series 'Harry Potter', harry's godfather and teacher gave him a joint present without second thought". After moving in together. yea.

Order of the phoenix, chapter 23:

Sirius and Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts, [...]

how does that makes you feel mr.big

5. Intimacy

Last but not least (literally I think this is my favorite?) three moments that I think it shows us just how close those two are. Not even romantically, but in friendship too.

Order of the Phoenix, chapter 14:

[...] said Sirius with a wry smile. “I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her.”

We know Remus is a Nice Guy. He does everything he can to maintain at least a civil relationship with the people around him (save moments of distrees and his little cynical comments in poa, of course). And so the fact that he has a little "can I be mean?" moment with Sirius is just so funny... I just know Sirius supports all Remus' moments of haterism <3

Order of the phoenix, chapter 5:

“Molly, you’re not the only person at this table who cares about Harry,” said Lupin sharply. “Sirius, sit down.” Mrs. Weasley’s lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white

Order of the phoenix, chapter 29:

“I’m coming up there to have a word with Snape!” said Sirius force-fully and he actually made to stand up, but Lupin wrenched him backdown again.

I know people always talks about those 2 moments with the sense of like... oh wow remus asks and Sirius obeys thats hot and I AGREE it's the same thing I said before: If it was anyone else I think he would go "fuck off no" but since it's Remus he just do it unquestioned.

but ALSO. I feel like it does show how close they are... Close enough to push someone backwards etc those two lived together for more than a decade... they are Close and are used to each other and I think that's beautiful :')

[theladybarnes]

CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER TEN

“Could try sticking together at a different house for a change?”

▸ summary: in another time in another place, there’s time for one more night ▸ characters: steve harrington 🩷, ft. Robin Buckley & Dustin Henderson ▸ word count: 9.5k ▸ warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT MINORS DNI(18+) ▸ series masterlist

The hot water flowed slowly down your back. Washing away all the stress and worries that came from today’s recent search. As you leaned against the cool tile, your mind drifted back to the Creel house. At this point it felt like no matter how hard all of you worked to piece together this puzzle, more questions would be left unanswered.

 Pushing your head under the water, you tried to let your mind have a moment’s rest. But the very second you shut down that worry, the look of Steve smiling down at you with cobwebs in his hair came into your head.

 This was stupid. 

 You guys were supposed to be on pause. Thoughts about Steve and his dumb, cute, face could come around later on. When you aren’t trying to evade death by the hands of Vecna. But even if you gave yourself that small break, there was another lingering thought in your head; How was Eddie doing? 

 It’s been days since any of you have properly spoken to him and a big part of you felt guilty for not thinking about him until now. He was your friend! The one who helped lift your spirits after all the heartbreak from last winter. How could you be such a bad friend? Yes, you were working to help solve this and clear his name, but how could you let yourself get this distracted to not have him cross your mind once all day?

 With a sigh, you turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel. The steam clung to your skin. A temporary warmth against the cold air that seemed to follow you around all day. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, shuddering at the sight.

 You were exhausted, both mentally and physically. The worst part was that your body seemed to be taking the major weight of it all. Emerging from the steamy bathroom, the cool air of Steve's house hit you, bringing a slight shiver to coat your body. Lost in your thoughts, you almost didn't see that Steve had been standing there until you nearly collided with him at his bedroom door.

 "Whoa, careful there,” he said, a playful smile on his face as he caught your arms. "I hope you left some hot water for me. I know you like to have the water burning your skin practically.”

 "It’s not that hot.” you chuckled. His eyes darted over your figure, lingering in a few expected spots until he remembered where his main focus was. You felt as your face grew hot. Cheeks flushed as you adjusted the towel around you tighter. “Thanks again, for letting all of us crash here. I know all of us together can be a lot."

 Steve's expression softened, and he leaned against the doorframe, looking at you with those familiar, warm eyes that had your knees nearly buckling under his gaze. "I figured that the Wheeler residence could use a break from the chaos we bring.” he shrugged. “No one’s here anyway. We all could use a good rest for one night. Plus it beats sleeping on the basement floor again.”

 “You’re right about that.” you agreed, knowing your back is desperate for some comfort. 

 “Besides,” he continued, voice a low murmur. “I feel a lot safer having you here in my house. Where I know you’ll be safe.” 

 His words tugged at your heart. They were both comforting and painful. Mostly because you wanted to dive into the meaning behind them and hear his reasons. But you knew better. It was just hard to suppress the feelings you still had for him, but you pushed them down for now, managing a small smile instead. 

 "I always feel safe with you around. Doesn’t matter where.”

 Something about your reply had him inhaling deeply. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. “Goodnight, Trouble.” He eventually got out with a smile of his own.

 “Goodnight, Steve."

 You turned to leave, heading towards the hall to his parent’s room, where you’d be sharing with Robin. But as you walked away, you couldn't help but steal one last glance back at him, catching him as he watched you with an unreadable expression. 

 Once you were inside the spare bedroom and away from his gaze, you wasted no time in getting into fresh clothes. Thankfully, your Aunt did not catch you sneaking in through your bedroom window earlier. If she had, you, Dustin, and probably the others, would surely have been under house arrest. With her paranoia, she’d have cuffed you all together to keep watch of everyone closely.

 The previously occupied bathroom popped open suddenly. Robin, who had gotten dibs in the master bath first, was freshly changed and ready for bed. She waltzed into the room with a content smile on her face as she plopped down on the other side of the bed. You noticed right away that her eyes were glinting with a familiar playful mischief as she caught your gaze.

 “So,” she started, drawing out the word, “How was your little run-in with Steve?” Her smirk was unmistakable, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, holding back the smile that wanted to fight its way onto your lips. 

 “Robin,” you warned lightly, but she only grinned wider.

 “Oh come on, don’t ‘Robin’ me. I was there in the Creel house. I saw how you two were talking.” she reasoned. “There were sparks flying and all that.” She mimicked an explosion with her hands for emphasis, bringing out a small chuckle from you. 

 “I can’t do this with you..”

 “Why do you think I got dibs on the bathroom first?”

 “Because you’re dirty?”

 She gave you a small slap to your arm before pointing over towards the door. “I did it on the chance that you two might run into each other in his room and get to talking again!”

 “Robin, we’re not together,” you reminded her, shaking your head as you finished drying your hair. “I’m not sure he’s told you yet but we’re pausing even discussing that situation until we get this Vecna stuff sorted out. It’s all very complicated.”

 “Yeah, complicated my ass.” Robin snorted. “All week I’ve caught you two a dozen times being a little too close for being just friends. I give it until tomorrow before the two of you are making out in some corner like you’re in the back room of Family Video all over again.”

 Your mouth flopped open as you attempted to think of a comeback. For some reason you were unable to conjure up a clever response. Instead, you threw a pillow at her, which she deftly dodged laughing. “We’re not gonna do... ugh, I’m done. I’m going to bed.”

 Thankfully, she moved with you to climb under the sheets. Giving you a couple of seconds of silence while you both adjusted under the sheets before Robin turned around to face you again.

 Her expression had softened up from the previous smug look she had as she looked down. “I know you’re both sort of stuck on talking things out. But seriously, I think with everything going on... I just don’t want either of you to have any regrets. Or waste time not taking just one second to work something out. Things are getting pretty crazy and I just want to help you both be happy in case something happens..”

 Her words instantly hit home. It was one thing for you to be self aware of the possibility of a limited amount of time. But for your friend to see it too just made the whole situation feel even more real. That wasn’t something you wanted Robin or any of them to have to go through. Especially when they were already worried about this whole Vecna mess already. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you gave her a quick nod, hoping it gave off some sort of relief to her.

  “Thanks, Robin. We’ll work on it soon.” Your words felt forced, but you smiled at her anyway. “Just give us a chance to work things out before you feel you need to ‘help’ again, okay?”

 She gave your shoulder reassuring pat before she flopped onto her back. “Alright, I’ll back off for now, but I’d be more worried about Nancy. She’s more fed up with this weird dance you two are doing than I am.”

 “Thanks for that heads up.” You chuckled softly, reaching out from the covers to turn off the lamp. The room fell into darkness, but the warmth of the conversation still lingered in the air.

 “Goodnight, Robin,” you whispered.

 “Goodnight,” she replied, her voice already drowsy.

 As you closed your eyes, your mind drifted back to previous thoughts. There were some things you couldn’t change right away, but Robin was right. Time was precious, and with the threat looming over you all, there’s no room for regret. Something had to change between you and Steve. 

 But for now, you settled on attempting to get some sleep first. 

 You huffed again, removing the earbuds from your ears.

 It had been two hours since you said goodnight to your friend, and here you were as you listened to the soft sound of Robin’s light snoring. Sleep was not coming for you. No matter how relaxed you attempted to be, your mind was not able to shut off whatsoever. 

 Looking at the clock on the bedside table, you use the little bit of moonlight that peeked through the room from the curtains to read the time. It was nearing two in the morning. You should be sound asleep like all the others in the house. And yet, you were wide awake.

 This wasn’t even a bed you could feel comfortable in. It was too hard and the pillow had a lingering scent aftershave. You glanced at Robin, her face serene and untroubled as she slept. The sight of her peacefulness made your restlessness more unbearable. What you needed was comfort, a sense of safety that only one place could offer.

 Biting your lip, you glanced over towards the clock again. Screw complicated.

 Slipping out of bed, you gathered your cassette player and headphones as you padded silently to the door, careful not to wake her. The floorboards creaked under your weight, a sound that echoed through the quiet house. Steve’s room was just down the hall, and the thought of being near him sent a shiver down your spine—not from fear, but from the cold that only he seemed to be able to take away.

 Pushing the door open a fraction, you peeked inside, hoping to slip into his room without waking him. Over on his bed, he laid on his side, facing towards the door. His chest rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep.

 Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open enough to step inside. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of the cotton sheets hit you. Hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. The summer nights where you crept in to spend the night for sleepovers that weren’t allowed. It was the time in both your lives where you guys thought everything would be okay. That all the troubles were over. 

 You wanted to feel that way again, if just for one night.

 Stepping into the room, you were careful not to let the door creak as you closed it behind you. The floor was thankfully covered in carpet, but you still shivered as you approached the side of his bed. 

 You moved to the empty side about to lift the blanket when you noticed a small photo frame. Picking it up, you used the small light coming from the window to look at it carefully. 

 It was the half torn photo strip you guys took at the mall last summer. You remember the night he stole this half, leaving you to the one back home. It was still taped to your mirror. But this one, you haven’t seen in such a long time. The smile on Steve’s face still made your heart leap and you couldn’t help but smile at how happy you looked then. “I can’t believe you still have this.” you said softly. 

 Steve stirred at the sound of your voice and you held your breath. Hoping you didn’t just wake him up. But nothing happened other than him settling back comfortably. 

 Gently, you lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped underneath, moving slowly so as not to disturb him further. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight as you turned on your side, wanting to face him. The warmth of his body was immediate, comforting in a way you had become desperate for lately.

 As you got comfortable, Steve's eyes fluttered open, making you freeze in place. But instead of accidentally scaring him like you thought you might have, he only blinked, sleepily focusing on you. 

 "Hey," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. There was no surprise in his tone, just a quiet acceptance that made your heart flutter.

 "Hi," you whispered back, barely able to keep the small quiver from your voice. "I couldn't sleep."

 He shifted slightly, making room for you to slide closer, his arm coming around you instinctively. It was such a natural, familiar gesture, shared between the two of you. 

 "Bad dream?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble.

 "I’d have to have fallen asleep in the first place to dream," you muttered, nestled closer to him now. His presence was like a soothing balm. The knot that had been building up in your chest loosened up at just the sound of his voice. “Is it okay, I’m here?”

 His fingers brushed against your arm, a light touch that sent shivers down your spine. "You’re always welcomed here," he said quietly, keeping up with his soothing touch. 

 You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax for the first time in days. You couldn’t pinpoint as to why. Maybe it was the bed, or the smell of his cotton sheets, or maybe it was just Steve. All you knew was that you felt safe, away from the world, in this bed, in his arms. 

 "I missed this," you admitted into the darkness, voice barely audible under the sudden emotions swirling. 

 His arm tightened around you, and you felt as his breath hitched in reaction to your words. "Me too," he whispered back eventually, his voice low and rough. It was only a little concerning, considering that all day he’s acted so confidently around everyone. 

 "Steve," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "Am I hurting you by being here?"

 He sighed, shifting closer. "No, you’re not hurting me. If anything, this is comforting me. I like having you close to me..where I can feel you.”

 You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "I just don’t want to confuse you anymore than I already have.."

 His hand closed around yours, warm and reassuring. "You haven’t. Besides, I know we’ll eventually get to talk things out. I’m okay with waiting until then.” 

 The conviction in his voice is comforting, and for a moment, you almost believed that everything would be okay. But your mind was quick to become frustrated all over again. Not only were you so physically tired from everything, but mentally too. It was as if you were some sappy soap character who couldn’t figure her life out. Everyday was a new brand of guilt and fear and you were sick of it. 

 A finger brushing against your cheek pulled you out of your rant and focused back on Steve who was watching you carefully. “Your thinking face is on.” he mused softly, “Wanna let me in?”

 You moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "What if... what if this was just a normal night? No monsters, no curses, just spring break. What would we have done?"

 Steve sucked in a sharp breath. Probably not expecting that sort of question. “Well,” he huffed, blowing all the air out of his mouth. “I’d have probably convinced you to hang out with me. Even if it was just friends. Put on some movie you picked from work.”

 You smiled at the thought, liking the simplicity of the scenario. "Something you’d pretend to be annoyed by, but secretly love every minute of, right?”

 He smiled back, looking at you with such a tenderness that lured you in close. "Yeah, something like that."

 The moment stretched out, leaving the air thick with heavy lingering feelings. You leaned in, keeping faces only inches apart. The urge to kiss him was so overwhelming. But you stopped, your eyes searching his face for more answers. "And after that? When the night was done and it was time for me to go home? What would happen?”

 For a moment, he didn’t respond, his gaze locked on yours. Then, without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you, and kissed you. It was soft and hesitant, but it held some feelings that you were sure he had been holding back. Like always, you melted into the kiss. His hand reached up to cup the side of your face, keeping you close as he finally spoke up.

 “That,” he whispered against your lips. “I’d do that.”

 You moved to rest your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily now. “I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow,” you whispered, “But right now, I just..I just want to forget about everything. Even if it’s only tonight.”

 He slowly nodded, his eyes glancing down to your lips as you spoke. “Yeah,” he said, gently murmuring his agreement in a quiet tone. “We can forget everything else..."

 With his approval, you placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him so that he was flat on his back. His eyes widened a bit and you carefully threw a leg over his waist until you were able to sit on his lap. 

 Your heart raced as you reached for the hem of your pajama shirt, carefully pulling it over your head until you were revealing your bare chest to Steve. 

 His breathing hitched as his eyes roamed over your breasts before it all seemed to click for him what you were doing. “Am I dreaming right now?” he asked as he brought his hands up to rest at your hips. 

 You placed your hands over his, giving him a shy smile as you shook your head to his question. 

 “This is real.”

 He gave your hips a gentle squeeze as a small shy smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Thank God.” he breathed, shaking his head as he leaned up towards you. 

 You met him in the middle and pressed your lips onto his, feeling the familiar fire start to ignite inside again. His hands released your hips, grazing up the expanse of your sides until he cupped at your breasts, using the tip of his thumbs to brush over the sensitive pebble.

 A wave of heat dropped down between your legs at his touch. Not even a week has passed since you’ve last had sex with Steve but the carnal desire to have every inch of him inside you started to take over. Your hands roamed beneath his shirt. First, only grazing in from his waistline before you broke the kiss to push up the ends, silently urging him to lose the shirt.

 You could hear him chuckle as he reached down to tug the material off, tossing it onto the floor before he laid back against the bed, looking up at you expectantly. 

The pool lights reflected in through his window, creating spots of blue hues to seep in the room. 

 It reminded you of all the summer nights you spent here in the house, and how much they used to ease you during your secret sleepovers. 

 Leaning over, you pressed your lips back onto his as your hands explored. Your nails scratched against his chest, admiring the feel of the hairs that peppered over his pecs. The sensation caused Steve to groan out loud, making the kiss turn hot and opened mouth as you both touched each other.

 He pressed you closer to his body, making your chest flushed to his now. That’s when you felt the cold necklace press against your clavicle and you sat back to press a hand to your neck. 

 You had almost forgotten that you had stolen the necklace from his car the other day. It kept you sane during your trip to Pennhurst. Something you had planned on sneaking back into Steve’s car. But your impatience and needs seemed to ruin that plan now. 

 He broke his focus from your face, doing a double take as he looked down at your hand, leaning close to inspect what you were holding. “You-..you’re wearing it..” he stated, slightly taken back as his gaze flickered back to your eyes.

 “I just wanted to feel right again.” You professed softly, looking down at the gold ‘S’ that sat perfectly over your chest. “I know I should have asked but..” your voice trailed off, unsure how to answer without diving into feelings.

 A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips when he slowly reached up to gently touch the necklace. His fingertips gently ran along the chain while you waited patiently to hear what he had to say. “No, you’d never have to ask..” he assured you. “It’s yours. It’s always been yours.” 

 The tender reassurance caused an ache to spread into your heart. The memory of the night you received the gift bringing in emotions you needed to pause on. Reaching for his hand, you brought his fingertips up to your lips. Placing kisses on each finger lovingly until you pressed it to cup at your cheek. “Are you sure?”

 Steve held his breath for a moment, only staring at your face in his hand before he suddenly leaned up towards you. The look in his eyes had turned dark and familiar. Stirring something in the pit of your belly. Then, he slowly began to nod his head, letting his hand slide down to wrap around your neck. 

 “More than anything.”

 You shuddered a bit, finding yourself being flustered by not only Steve’s reassurance, but also from the slight change of hand. Not sure how long you can handle his touch or heated gaze, you took charge and leaned in to press your lips against his again.

 Feeling a new confidence in you that made you start to roll your hips on his waist. 

 A small moan built in your throat as his groin began to press through your pajama pants. Hitting at the spot you were starting to become needy for him to touch. Beneath you, Steve gently groaned into the kiss, moving his body to roll against yours when he felt the direction you were taking things.

 Your mind was becoming more hazy at that. More feral. The familiar desperation to reach your orgasm started to spur inside of you. And from the way he began to stiffen up underneath his clothes, you were pretty sure he was starting to feel the same.

 “Steve..I need you.”

 Your simple whimpered request seemed to encourage Steve as he groaned quietly again, reaching for your hips as he rolled up. “Need you too, Honey. Need you so badly.” he said in short shallow gasps. 

 Carefully, he wrapped an arm around your side and he pressed you close to his body before he flipped you over so that he was able to hover over you now. You held tightly, staring up in shock as he used his knees to push at your legs and allow him to sit between them. 

 Reaching your hands down, you rubbed up his sides until they met in the middle of his waist, where you quickly made do with his pajamas. Pushing the waist of his pants and boxers down while you picked your head up to press a kiss to his lips. 

 He shivered in your hands, only pulling his lips back to hiss down once the palm of your hand made contact with his hardened cock. “Fuck,” he said, licking over his lips. “Keep going.” he begged, hands rubbing up the inner part of your thighs soothingly. 

 The sight of his stiff cock brought a burning desire to pool between your legs. You thought back to earlier in the week when you last had him and how much you wanted to feel that good again and again and–

 “You with me?” 

 The warm touch to the side of your face pulled you from your dirty thoughts and you gave Steve a small smile. He rubbed the tip of his thumb over your lip, which naturally you pressed a kiss to, knowing how much he always liked it.

 And like always, he took charge after that.

 Moving his hands to the sides of your waist, he tugged down your bottoms. Exposing the rest of your body to his pleasure as he still hovered above you. The action sparked something inside and you felt yourself losing your composition in order to give into your needs. “I need you, please.”

 He shifted before you, making the tip of his cock brush against your thigh. Causing him to groan while he adjusted once more to bring his hand between your inner thighs. “Let me have my fun first, Trouble.” He replied back. Voice husky and low with desire. 

 It was one just one finger that brushed through your folds and you were already feeling out of your mind. Your body jolted and turned tense as you reached out to grip at his free arm. He used his thumb to circle over your clit, brushing the sensitive bud softly.

 “Fuck.” you hissed, feeling both frustrated and turned on by his slow pace. You let go of his arm to go for his neck. Letting your fingers get tangled in the ends of his hair, tugging lightly as he rolled over the sensitive bud again. Oddly, the small ministrations were slowly working you up.

 Steve’s eyes looked up at you. He watched you slowly the more you got heated, needing more but still keeping at his pace. He swiped a finger over your clit again, chuckling softly to himself as he bent his head down to you. “Already so close for me? You’re so needy, so perfect, all for me.”

 His whisper nearly made you come right there. It was so dirty and so familiar to how things used to be. You didn’t know how much you needed this until now. “Baby, please,” you whimpered, not even sure how desperate you sounded. “More.”

 You brought your leg up to wrap around his hip, allowing him better actress between your legs as you slowly began to roll again his touch. Needing to do something to create the friction you wanted.

 He cooed amusedly at your impatience. ”I’ll give you anything you want, baby.” he promised, pressing more pressure to your clit with his thumb. “Just keep making pretty noises for me.” he teased, moving his hand down your folds, teasing you slightly until you felt the tip of his fingers at your core. 

 Your eyes snapped open, looking up at the ceiling as you anticipated his next move.

 Little by little he pushed his fingers in, getting you to let out small panting breaths to calm you down until you felt him stop. “Doing so good for me, Honey.” he said, leaning forward to get his face closer to yours. “You’re so wet, just from my hand, it’s so hot.” he said as he pressed a soft kiss to warm your chest.

 “So good,” you whispered, loving how you felt his fingers give into some of the desires you wanted. He pumped his fingers in and out rhythmically as you writhed on the bed, becoming so unbearably desperate for more. God, you couldn’t believe how long it’s been since you’ve felt this way. “Fuck, Steve..” you whimpered as your hands found purchase in his hair. 

 He was being so attentive to you. It was so sweet, sexy, so addicting.

 Steve continued to listen to all of your sounds and whines, giving you quiet praises while his fingers curled, hitting at just the right spot as he increased his pace. Trying to get you to the edge you were teetering on. “C’mon,” he grunted, “Come for me, honey..”

 Your fingers gripped tighter to Steve’s hair, pulling him close to you. “Baby,” you gasped, sucking in air that was leaving too quickly. “I’m gonna— I’m gonna—ah!” 

 In one final push of his hand, your body froze and you felt your wave of pleasure hit over you instantly. It was so hot and so quick, you didn’t even have time to keep yourself in check. Only grinding your hips against his hand to ride out the rest of the orgasm. 

 He had leaned down during your euphoric haze to press kissing against the nape of your neck, Slowly pushing in and out until he gently slipped his fingers out from you “That’s it..just like that..that’s my good girl..” he said, holding onto you until he fell to your side. He reached around to have you closer to him. 

 You were still trying to catch your breath. Feeling so hot and heavy that you felt your head spin for a moment. “God,” you whispered, turning your head to plant kisses on his chest. “I’ll never get over that.”

 Steve hummed happily, seemingly content with having gotten you off. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, sounding pleased by your reaction. “I won’t either..” he said before he reached down for your chin, tilting you up so you were looking at him as he whispered quietly. “You’ve never been so perfect and so sexy for me.”

 The whisper of his genuine words only took your breath away again. 

 Without saying anything, you moved your legs so that you could straddle on top of him. The slight pressure of his still so hard member was pressing lightly against your thighs. You gave a small roll of your hips before looking at him carefully.

 He stared up at you once you straddled his waist. Eyes wide before you rolled over him and caused him to groan loudly. “Honey,” he breathed out in a deep whisper. “You don’t have to–”

 Bending forward, you pressed your lips against his, letting your kiss distract him from saying anything else as you slowly lifted your hips, kneeling at his sides and reached down between you two. Grabbing hold of his member, you carefully lined him up to your core and slowly eased down.

 He pulled away from the kiss as he gasped for air. “God, you’re perfect.”

You’d chuckle at his sweet response if you weren’t too busy feeling the sensation of having him inside of you again. It was like you’ve been waiting all night to feel this full again and you couldn’t help but sigh in contentment from it. 

 Leaning yourself back, you slowly bottom his member out. Feeling as the tip brushed right at the right spot. A soft moan spilled past your lips and you placed a hand down to rest at his stomach, digging your nails into the skin as you slowly started to roll your hips.

 “Fuck, baby, takin’ all of me.” he whimpered. “Like my good girl.”

 A smile broke out on your face, loving his attempt to talk dirty through his whimpers. Beneath you, Steve’s whole body started to tense up. Turning as needy as yours did minutes ago for release. His hands up and down your thighs, trying to find something to hold onto before he gently wrapped hands around your hips. 

 One of your hands reached out to grip at your breast, feeling as the sensitivity ventured all over your body. Steve, who couldn’t help himself, reached out to replace yours. Squeezing and cupping up your breast as he bucked upward into you. 

 “God damn, honey.” he grunted, thrusting upward again. He pulled himself up to reach your mouth with his. He hungrily kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip before he pulled away for a moment. “You don’t know what you do to me..” he whispered, eyes dark as he looked over your features. 

 You used his new closeness as a chance to wrap your arms around his neck. Keeping him in place so that you could pick up the pace in your rolls. Hitting that delicious spot every time. The kiss had already taken your breath away, but you ignored it in favor of attacking his neck next. 

 Pressing loving kisses on all the spots that freckled his skin. “I could say the same.” You said panting against the line of his jaw. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

 Steve gasped out in between your kisses on his neck, holding you close as he moved his hand back to your lower back. Holding you steady as he began to buck his hips up to meet your rolls. Thrusting upwards so fast now that you were practically bouncing on top of him.

 ”I’ve been trying so hard to stick to this whole friend, pausing thing—fuck. But I can’t stop thinking about you like this.” he grunted between short, shallow breaths. “Want you like this all the time.” 

 His thrusts started to hit directly into all the right places, making your next climax approach faster now. You felt yourself shuddering at his words, holding tightly to him as his confession brought butterflies to your stomach.

 “God, Steve.” You whimpered, “All the time?”

 “Every, damn, day.” he answered, thrusting up to match each word he managed to get out.  You could feel your body react to him, clenching tighter around his cock. Needing to hold onto the feeling of him inside of you before he’d hit you again and have you gasping in pleasure. “God, I could do this all night if you’ll have me.” 

 His words made you shudder, and you dug your nails into his shoulders. Pushing against him lightly to lie on his back again while you looked down in his eyes. “You’re all mine?” You asked breath ragged as you rolled your hips again. The brink of your climax just nearly there. “Say it.”

 “Fuck,” he moaned, staring up at you with wide eyes. You’ve never been this possessive with him before but from his slight grin, you started to think he liked it. “I’m yours.” he nodded quickly, licking over his lips. “You have me, Trouble. All of me.” 

 Taking his chance, he gripped tightly to your hips, giving you a slight wincing pain but followed with another wave of pleasure as he used all his energy to buck his hips up to yours, going at a much more brutal pace.

 From the mix of his responses plus the way his hips kept snapping up in the right places, you could barely roll correctly as you felt your edge coming. “I’m so—God, I’m so close.” You gasped, reaching a hand down between you, rubbing your clit in a quick circle to drive you just enough. 

 “Come for me,” he hissed, sweat was beading down his forehead but he kept up his speed, not stopping until he got you there. “Come for me, honey..”

 Your back arched, curling at his command as a sudden wave of pleasure hit you. Every roll caused your core to tighten around him, giving you that blindingly hot sensation that only your orgasm could give you. Specks of white blurred your vision again and you let out a cry of ecstasy.

 Below, Steve held you close, riding out the rest of your orgasm by helping you continue to roll your hips. “Oh God, oh Go–fuck.” he moaned, his body tensing up before finally reaching his release. The sensation of Steve’s cum shooting in you had you shuddering slightly but not as much as the sinful sounds of his moans fought against your whimpers.

 There was a solid minute where the two of you were just there, both taking the chance to roll against each other until finally you started to calm your bodies down. You glanced down to look at him, smiling a little at his face. He was still softly moaning, most likely sensitive as you were right now before he felt your gaze on him. 

 “Hi.” you said softly, just staring at him until you leaned down to place another kiss on his lips.

 “Hey.” he whispered back, now sporting a goofy grin. Though you had the power of being on top, it didn’t stop you from feeling shy from his gaze. Looking away, you peeked over your shoulder to stare at the door before down again.  

 “Do you think the others heard us?”

 He glanced over toward the door, face scrunching up a bit before he shook his head. “Doubt it.” he chuckled, returning back to his former position. “Those little shits aren’t afraid to barge in and bother us if we’re disturbing them, so I think I think we’re in the clear.”

 Nodding your head, you held onto his arms. Using them as leverage to keep you up as you reached between you two so that you could pull him out. A small hiss escaped at the change of pressure before you carefully climbed off his lap and laid down beside him. “That was intense.” you said softly, placing a hand on your still racing heart.

 Steve, who had quickly managed to catch his breath, laid his head down on the pillow. You glanced up to see he was grinning as he stared up at the ceiling. “Intense isn’t the word I’d use..” he shrugged with an amused chuckle. “Now incredible..”

 You couldn’t help but laugh at that, gaining his attention. He slowly rolled to rest his head down against your shoulder, gently brushing his fingers up and down your side. You turned over to face him instead. “You’re incredibly cheesy, Harrington.” you smirked, still feeling like you’re on cloud nine from everything.

 He gave a fake look of shock, nearly clutching his pearls before he reached out to you. Tucking you against him so he could gently nudge your side with his hand. “Me? Chee—what about you, using cheesy lines on me like ‘you’re all mine’?”

 You felt your face heat up. 

 “Yeah, well, I was just taking a page right out from your book of lines.” You shrugged, trying to keep up with a faux bit of confidence.

 That seemed to only amuse him further. Making him let out a light laugh as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now you’re suddenly keeping note of my go to lines?” he asked with a light, playful, voice as he moved onto peppering small kisses over your face. “Thought you wanted to be a lawyer, not a stenographer.”

 “Uhh..” You had a hard time thinking of any clever response as Steve continued his kissing, making you incredibly distracted. He literally just fucked you stupid and thought adding drunkly sweet kisses on top of that would do any good. “..Shut up.” You eventually answered, not even able to combat it at this point.

 Again, he laughed at you. Giving you at least a break from his lips as he pulled back to look over at you. “Gotta admit, I kinda liked hearing you talk so possessively to me. Makes me feel all sorts of special.” he whispered teasingly.

 You sighed in defeat, figuring that while he was annoying in teasing now, he was kind of right. A small part of you felt alive to be holding such a claim on him. Sappy or not, he felt like he really was yours. But you hated the idea of Steve holding that over you right now with his shit eating grin.

 “Shut up.” You said again, slightly teasing, but mostly pouting. The blanket, while a little too warm, helped cover up your slightly sweaty body from the cold that would inevitably take over. You turned yourself to rest on his chest a little, needing to hear his heart while lightly brushing your fingers over his side.

 All this was so beautifully domestic. Reminding you of the calmer nights of the early summer you two had where you were actually allowed to be silly teens who didn’t have school worries or problems from the upside down. Just two people enjoying each other’s company.

 The thoughts of all tomorrow’s worries instantly came into mind. No matter how much you wished it, and how much Steve gave to you, the doubts would always come back to creep in, and the world would find ways to keep you from getting that happiness back.

 Steve adjusted himself to pull you closer to his body, keeping you pressed tight against his chest. Gently letting his hand move to pet over your hair as he softly whispered to you. “I can hear you thinking.”

 A small sad smile couldn’t help but tug at your lips. Steve’s familiar intuition kicked in once again and your body reacted so instinctively to him as you curled more into his side. Seeking comfort against him. You gently drew patterns over the sides of his ribs as you fought to get your words out. 

 “I’m thinking how I’ve messed up my life again..”

 He didn’t say anything at first. Only keeping his hold on you before he finally spoke up again. “Why would you think that?” he asked slowly.

 “I’ve lied to you guys, I’ve kept things that were important..and all for it to come back and nearly get me killed.”

 The reminder of the other day’s events unfortunately seemed to cause a dip in the vibe around the room. Beside you Steve stiffened up, possibly remembering his own emotions from that day. But you couldn’t stop yourself from going on, feeling more guilt pour out of you.

 “I’ve been such a bad friend. I’ve neglected Eddie who’s just stuck waiting for us to help him..he doesn’t even know what’s going on and I’ve just been wasting our time keeping things from all of you. I’m sorr–”

 “You were scared.” he cut in, not allowing you to finish your apology. “You just wanted to keep us safe and keep us focused on what you thought was important, baby. I know you. Not only are you a good friend, but you’re a good person..I’m so tired of having you put yourself down.” he argued, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t know what that asshole is making you hear or see in your head..but you aren’t messing up your life.”

 You closed your eyes, wanting to believe everything he was saying. But all the months of Vecna feeding pain and hurt into you were still lingering. Even if you used your anger to fight back against him, the weight of his words still hung heavily onto you.

 “I can’t unhear his words, Steve. I can’t stop seeing the vision he showed me..”

 “Tell me about it.” he said softly, another kiss now to the side of your cheek as he tried to bring you back down from your spiraling. “Let me in..”

 Sighing, you reached over to grab for his free hand, bringing it close to your chest as you recalled the events of the past few months. Mentioning the times Vecna had attempted to make you feel alone and guilty over things. Whether it was from Billy’s death, the break up, or even the struggle to maintain the relationships you had with others.

 “..it wasn’t until the day he tried to take me..I just knew it was all wrong. Like everything he had been feeding me was just to get me to this point but it wasn’t enough. No one but me got hurt that night. Even as I tried to remember it in detail the only one around was me and the police until my Dad came. But he wanted to use that guilt and feed it into something worse.”

 “But he still has a hold over you..” he pointed out, letting his fingers lace with yours. 

 “I guess, even now it feels sometimes like I’m being lulled into a dream. Which must be a reason why sleep is hard for me tonight.” You moved to place your hand around his waist, feeling the need to hold him again. “What if this is the last night we get to do this? What if I’m pulled in again and can’t get out?..”

 It was scary to think about death easily taking over you. The worst part of it, is that you’d know you were about to die and know that it was your loved ones who would see the horrors of what happens when Vecna finally got his claw into you. 

 Without looking, you could hear as Steve let out a small sigh. He gently kept his hand brushing over your hair, seemingly attempting to soothe you. “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, sounding determined. “Not unless you want me to..and even then, I’m not leaving your side.”

 “I know you’ll be here, Steve. My worry though is will I be?” You picked up your head and peered up at him, trying to focus on the features of his face. As if you suddenly needed to keep them in your memory to remember him in the future.

 “I’m not letting you go.” he frowned, his grip tightening on you. “I know you’re scared, we all are, but there's a fight within us. Okay? We’re not gonna stop until you and Max are safe again. And as far as things between us..they’re far from being done yet. So you can bet I’m not letting anything happen to you.” He let go to reach his hand back to softly cup your face. His thumb gently over your cheek as he kept his eyes locked on yours. “I promise, we’re going to have many nights like this again..” 

 “Yeah? After we’re done pausing our problems?” You said, feeling a little overwhelmed with reality again. There was just always going to be one problem over the other. 

 He turned silent, not saying anything for a moment as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.  “You wanted to pretend tonight was different, right?” he said, locking his serious gaze into yours. “Tonight we’re just two teens, both with feelings for each other, both in this bed after having amazing sex. Let’s keep it like that and worry about tomorrow..tomorrow.”

 Would there even be a chance tomorrow for all this? Or would the two of you just continue to dance around this subject? You wanted to argue against that, remind him of the truth. But you quickly swallowed that thought down when you saw the slight pain in Steve’s eyes. This was not easy for him either. 

 “Okay, tomorrow then.”

 Though he seemed a little skeptical of your answer, he still smiled at you as he laid his head back down on the pillow. His arm wrapped around you now as he gently brushed his fingers lightly up and down your back. “You want to stay like this for the rest of the night?” he asked softly.

 I could stay like this for the rest of my life. You thought. “Yes.”

 There was a soft, relieving, sigh as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. ”Then I won’t move till morning.” he whispered, words sounding more like a promise than just reassurance. 

 Your body relaxed under him and you found that you were now wishing to fight the sleep you were so desperate for in the beginning. Wanting to bask more in the short amount of time you and Steve had together alone. 

 “..and maybe a little bit after that?” you asked, more so wished out loud.

 Steve listened intently, letting you finish your sleepy words as he reached over behind you to grab the cassette player. Seemingly the only one between the two of you to actually remember the problems outside of your little promise earlier. 

 Soon enough the soft sounds of Joan Jett began to play in your ear again and he cuddled you closer into his arms. Tugging at the blanket so it covered you better. The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was the smile that crept back on his face. 

 “..and after that.”

 The small click of the tape ending was the first thing that stirred you awake.

 It would seem that partaking in the rigorous activities the night before was just what you needed for sleep to eventually come its way to you. Something you were thankful for considering this past week so far, you’ve slept roughly around two to three hours a night. 

 Unfortunately, that precious sleep time was over now and soon enough, you’d be forced to get out of bed eventually. A task you found to be harder once you felt Steve stir behind you. Without needing to turn around, you could feel that his eyes were on you. He quietly called out your name, trying to find if you were awake or not. When you didn’t answer back, he leaned in to press a kiss to the back of your shoulder. 

 The tip of hands caressed over the length of your bare leg, admiring the softness before it wrapped around your hips, dragging you back a bit in order to get you closer. After, his hand explored up the expanse of your stomach, curves, and chest until he cupped gently at your face. Again, he pressed kisses to you, only this time to your cheek. That’s when he stiffened up, noticing something, and let you go to reach for the cassette. 

 There was a click again and it quickly started to rewind. He set it back down as he resumed tending to you. Just as you were about to turn around and give into his affections, the sound of his door bursting open interrupted. 

 “Steve! Please tell me she’s in–oh God!”

 “Whoa! Shh!” Steve hissed. “Jesus Christ, Buckley, you ever heard of knocking?”

 “Have you ever heard of wearing clothes?!”

 The sound of Robin gagging followed along as Steve attempted to pull the blanket higher over the two of you. The door closed softly, but you could still feel the presence of your friend. You could only assume she had turned around now, keeping her eyes off of the two of you. 

 "Seriously? Here I was feeling like a bad friend for telling her I’d find you two kissing. But this?” Her voice had that unmistakable mix of exasperation and disgust that reminded you of the summer back in Starcourt. “I nearly had a heart attack, like, five minutes ago and now I think I’m gonna have a bigger one. I almost saw your butt, Steve!”

 “Please stop talking.”

 “Why is she here? You guys are on break.”

 “She couldn’t sleep, okay? She came in, woke me up and–”

 “And you took off your clothes?!”

 “Shh!” he hissed again. “Can you stop? You'll wake her up." His hold around you tightened, almost as if he were shielding you from the interruption.  

 Though you couldn’t see it, you could practically feel the eye roll from Robin. “Look, as happy as I am to see you guys making some sort of move in your relationship, we’re gonna have to cut the honeymoon short. The kids are up and we gotta get a move on. Nancy wanted us to meet her back at her house after breakfast. So, you two need to get dressed.”

 “Five minutes.” Steve reasoned, not daring to move you anymore. “Give us that and we’ll meet you downstairs.”

 “Fine,” she huffed, “Five minutes. That’s all you guys have before I’m sending one of the others. Let you two traumatize someone else for once.”

 Steve sighed, his voice tired as he quickly agreed. "I'll wake her up, I promise."

 You heard Robin grumble a bit as she opened the door. “God, Steve, you are so hairy!” she said in a hushed tone as she closed the door gently behind her. The sounds of her stomps slowly faded away as she finally left to go downstairs. 

 With the room now quiet again, you finally turned in Steve’s arms to face him. His eyes met yours, and a lazy, contented smile spread across his face. His hair was adorably unruly and you couldn’t help but reach out to run your fingers through it before you brought your hand to rest on his shoulder.  

 “Morning.” he whispered softly, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. It was cut too short and he slowly pulled back to look down at you again. 

 “I see my late night visit got us in trouble.” you whispered back, feeling a little guilty for Robin’s unfortunate timing. 

 “Sort of.” He chuckled a bit, shaking his head at the interaction. “But, she’ll cool off. I think she was just worried when she didn’t find you in the other room.”

 Staring at the door, you hoped that you didn’t worry Robin too much. After her little speech, all she seemed to want was for you and Steve to make up in some sort of way. But after the sex, and confessing to him about your Vecna struggles, you were a little worried you might have pushed that progress even further. “Do you think I’ve just..complicated things with us after last night?”

 Steve inhaled deeply, looking at you with the same concerned gaze before he shook his head. “The only thing I feel after last night is amazing.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, gentle but loving. “Besides, it’s not like you and I aren’t used to complicated, right?”

 You nestled closer to Steve, adjusting so that you could rest on top of him while he moved to lie on his back. The warmth from his body and steady rhythm of his breathing helped soothe you. He wrapped his arms around you again, keeping you close to his side as he savored the moment. 

 As the former silence settled, you focused slowly on Steve’s familiar quick heartbeat. One of his hands moved up to rub up and down your back. Almost as if he were coaxing you back to a peaceful sleep again. 

 "You know we really should get up," you murmured, though there was no real conviction in your voice. The comforting moment was too tempting to let go of so easily. “She’ll probably try to get us back by sending Dustin.”

 He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest a bit. “God, probably. He’ll never let us hear the end of it.” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sort of just..struggling to let you go right now.”

 “Me too.” you whispered, moving a hand up to gently comb through the curls that nestled over his pecs. He brought his other hand up to place over yours, holding it to press against him. From the look in his eyes, you could only see a glint of mischief as he looked down at you. 

 “Maybe we should stay..”

 “We’re supposed to be pausing things again.”

 “True.”

 It’s quiet again and it’s you this time who feels a spark of mischief come through you. “We do have four more minutes..”

 He hummed for a moment and you glanced up again to find that his eyes were closed. He had a small, content, smile on his face, nearly making you reach up to pinch at his cheek. “I know what we could do in four minutes..” he said in a very low, tempting purr. 

 “You are absolutely ridiculous.” you laughed as you tried to scoot out of his arms before you got caught up in his alluring notions. But he was quick, and held on tighter, turning his gaze back to you so he could press more kisses to your head.

 “I’m not hearing a no..” 

 “No!”

 “Make out instead?”

 “The night is over, we’re supposed to be just friends again, remember?”

 “Friends who occasionally make out?”

 You gave him a look, recalling the way you guys got together in the first place. But again, he’s looking at you in such a way, you can’t help but feel your lip turn upright, feeling that spark of desire built up in your stomach. 

 “..Fine. But now we only have three minutes.”

TEN MINUTES LATER

 “Hey Steve, Robin sent me up here to make sure you wer–OH GOD!”

 “DUDE, GET OUT!” 

 “GET OFF MY COUSIN!”

 “DUSTIN, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”

 “OH GOD, I’M GONNA THROW UP!”

A/N: So sorry the middle was so long. But!!! I hope you guys like this update. I had to kinda split it up. I just feel like I wanted to give them a chapter dedicated to just them. Sort of like in my season three chapters. They need one night to bone it out, talk feelings, and then have crazy shit to deal with the next day lol. 

Thanks for all the nice messages and I hope you guys enjoy it. If not, I’m sorry, another update will be hopefully soon.🩷

TAGGING LIST: @cluz1babe, @starofavolonea, @primroseluna, @siriuslysmoking , @bobo-bush, @summerellaz,  @hollandweather​ - Thank you guys for your patience! (also tried to tag some of you I feel are regulars and might want an update.🩷

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Know I’m Bad News (I Saved It All for You) Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence and Gore; panty sniffing; allusions to r*pe

The end of the world was not really an ideal event for anyone, and while surely everyone thought their resulting situation was the worst imaginable, you were truly adamant in your belief that your life was the epitome of disastrous. You had been alone for years, having no one and nowhere to turn while cities crumbled and people died all around you. You had done the only logical thing you could. 

You ran.  

And you kept running. 

You stopped when the hunger pains became unbearable. You stopped when your bladder was so full that it might explode. You stopped when exhaustion was weighing heavily on your body. And you stopped when hiding became necessary. 

You had hidden from them. The group of men that were razing the building as they grabbed anything useful, including your bag. 

“Joe! Joe, look at these clothes!” One of the men grinned while sniffing your underwear. “It’s a woman.”

“And by the looks of it, she was here recently.” The older man��Joe, it seemed—noted while lifting one of the packs of crackers you had been in the middle of looting. You had thrown them down as you ran to hide—the location of the package directing them straight to your hiding place. “Come on out, now.”

Sighing, you uncurled yourself and lowered your legs out of the air duct, hopping down to straighten with your hands held up to show you weren’t armed. “Just take what you want and go.”

Joe gazed around with an abrupt burst of laughter that was echoed by the other men. “Oh, we will.” Stepping toward you, he arched a brow when you did nothing more than square your shoulders. “Woo, boys. This one’s gonna be fun to play with. Claimed.”

He reached for you suddenly, mid-step, his intentions unclear but no doubt nefarious. It didn’t matter. Snagging his wrist, you used his own momentum to not only evade him but to spin him back to face his men, their weapons already being drawn and aimed. 

You were faster. 

With his arm now twisted behind his back and pulled upward, you had strategically pulled your own handgun from the back of your jeans, the muzzle pressed against his temple. 

“Put ‘em down.” You spat. When no one made an effort to oblige, you pulled upwards on his trapped limb and ground the cold metal against his skin. 

“Do it, boys.” Joe’s calmness surprised you, but you were wise enough not to grant them a visible confirmation. “Listen, sweetheart. There’s a lot more of us than you. Those odds just don’t seem fair.”

“Fair to who?” You taunted. 

The man scoffed. “You sure do have some spunk, I’ll give ya that.” He tried to adjust his position but your grip only tightened. He was bigger, stronger, but your weapon gave you the advantage. “There’s only one ending here. Put down the gun, let me go. I’ll make sure they’re gentle.” You curled your lip in a disgusted snarl. “Or they’ll put a few bullets in you and we’ll have you anyway. Them’s your choices.”

Your head tilted, you feigned consideration of his “offer,” laughable as it was. “How about I shoot you, then them, one by one?”

“Lady, can’tcha see how many guns we got on you right now?” Another man chimed. 

“Oh, I see them.” You confirmed. “I also see that one has the safety on, three of you aren’t even holding them right, and all of you can’t stop looking at my tits long enough to even try for a decent shot.” Your laughter startled them, their smiles fading. “This guy’d be dead and I’d have a bullet in each of you before you could hit me with one.”

“Oh, yeah? I say you’re bluffin’.” 

The words had no more than left his lips before the shots rang out. A bullet directly between his eyes, one in each shoulder, and in each knee before he hit the ground. Joe scrambled away from you, his arm now free. You kept your composure, your stoicism schooled in place, practiced from a former life of abuse and difficult choices. 

“Anyone else wanna call my bluff?” You asked, a brow lifted in challenge. 

Joe was helped to his feet, rubbing his shoulder as soon as he was standing. He regarded you silently, the others shifting about nervously. 

“Whatcha want us to do, Joe?”

“Well,” he started, but you were quick to interject. 

“You can turn around and walk out those doors. You go your way and I go mine.” It wasn’t a request. The older man stared, incredulous, before his face broke into a grin and laughter bubbled out of him. 

“Or,” He contested. You rolled your eyes and ground your teeth. He was really starting to get on your nerves. “Way I see it, I’m down a man now since you took out ol’ Billy there.” He waved a lazy hand toward the body. “Why don’tcha just come with us?”

“I thought we established that I have no interest in being your fuck toy.” You hissed. 

“Not like that.” He motioned for the men to lower their weapons. “Join us. We take care of our own.” Wagging a finger at you, he started turning to walk out. “Think you might be a fine replacement.” The men parted to let him pass, his invitation left hanging in the air. “Let’s go, boys.”

“But, Joe, she—”

“Wait.” You called out, lowering your gun, only slightly. “Just—hold up.”

You weren’t the first to notice him, but you weren’t far behind the others, Joe at your side. The man was just sitting, cross-legged, in the middle of the road, his head down, shoulders slumped. Defeated. A crossbow laid at his knee. 

He was a pretty one with an air of danger about him. Your time with Joe’s Claimers made you appreciate the rugged men you’d come across. They were always the most entertaining and fought the hardest against the men with which you traveled. The ones before, however, would always be spouting some cocky, desperate bullshit by now. 

This one hadn’t said a word or even moved beyond looking up at the individuals now surrounding him. You hung back, getting a feel for him and how to—even if you should—approach. Sometimes you were the bait, luring men and women into a false sense of security before the group would pounce. It was one of your many roles. 

You actually startled when the man punched Joe and grabbed the crossbow. He moved so fast. While Joe didn’t seem angry—even told the boys to stand down—he was still in the sights of the stranger’s weapon. 

Oh well. Their way didn’t work, so it was your turn. You weren’t about to let them kill one that you really wanted a chance to play with. 

“Wait!” You called, placing yourself between Joe and the business end of the weapon. You knew what to watch for, the eyes would always tell on them, but while in others, you had seen fear, intrigue, and sometimes even desire, this one only seemed to look at you with something akin to sadness. You took note and filed that away for later. “I know you don’t wanna kill me.”

“You don’t know nothin’.”

Oh. His voice was just as rugged as his appearance. “I know you won’t kill me.” You bravely—or stupidly—put your finger on the tip of the bolt. “Why don’t you put this down,—” you drew out the last word and tilted your head in request of his name. Your fingertip still rested against the bolt. 

The man hesitated, the wheels turning as he scrutinized you. You couldn’t help but be impressed. This was a man who could read people as well as you could. Luckily for you, you were a master at shielding your emotions. After a moment of tense silence, he lowered the crossbow. 

“Daryl.”

“Hi, Daryl. I’m Y/N.” 

Len used the butt of his rifle to drop Daryl at your feet, a wicked smile curving the corners of your mouth. 

“And I’m about to have so much fun.” Looking around at the others, they laughed while Harley reached for the crossbow. With a step forward, you placed a foot on Daryl’s hand and pointed at the weapon.

“Claimed.”

[satcrvz]

CHAPTER SIXTEEN; TWO IDIOTS

navi

“move your bubble butt out the way,” yuuji instantly straightens his back and glares at you.

“yn, please im literally trying to make the house look presentable while you sit on your ass warming yuutas seat”. his comment earned a snicker from megumi, which yuuji made a mental note of.

nobara shuts the fridge and shouts from the kitchen, “you wouldn’t need to make it presentable if you hadn’t invited the whole population over”

you think yuuji may be your number one hater and supporter. clearly he’s trying to help you, but at the same time you feel non confrontational.

“speak your truth. yuuji and megumi are literally the reason the living rooms fucked up”

a few minutes after the four of you finish “cleaning,” if you could even call it that, maki, inumaki, and yuta show up. as they enter the apartment, inumaki glances around the place.

"so did you guys just decide not to clean or what?" this earned him a slide flying by his head, courtesy of yuuji. while almost everyone is engaged in their own banter now, you make your way over to yuta, praying that it's not going to be the awkward interaction that you have in your head.

you smile as you approach him, "did you bring the ice cream?" his eyes slightly widened as he brings his right hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "soooo," you laugh at his awkwardness, "i ended up buying it but my dumbass left it at the house"

"that's not a problem, we could go get it since your house isn't that far?" you suggested. "wouldnt we miss the movie?" his question is genuine.

"nah we have time. it’s not like they’d agree on a movie anyway." he shoots you a smile before grabbing the lanyard that hung out his sweats.

"guys, me and yn are going to get icecream, it won’t take long!" maki shoots him a look that tells him not to fuck it up. yuuji acknowledges yutas statement, "oh, can you get popcorn? there’s like one bag left and i know all of you aren’t willing to share"

"oh we actually weren’t—" you’re cut off by yuta, "we’ll get it, it’s fine!"

. . .

"why’d you agree? i was trying to save you the trouble." he cranks up the car, "it’s fine, besides, do you really wanna be there when they fight over a movie? shit gets ugly." "you’re right," you say in between laughs.

the ride to the store was no more than 10 minutes, most of it consisting of you flipping through songs, due to you not really knowing what he listens to.

after he parks, he raises both of his hands up and looks at you, "do not move." you smirk and raise an eyebrow at his actions, not really knowing what his plan was. that was until you saw him get out the car and go over to your side and open the door.

the smile was evident in your voice, "what are you, prince charming?" as you get out the car, he dramatically bows, "anything you want me to be your highness." this earned laughter from the both of you.

the two of you entered the store and right as the sliding doors opened yuta probably asked the dumbest question you've ever heard.

"we're supposed to be getting popcorn right?" truthfully, he was trying to make conversation after ignoring you for the past few days.

"jeez yuta, you drove us and you don't even know what you're here for?"

he gave you a grin, "i got us here safely, no? thats gotta count for something!"

as the two of you roam isles in search of popcorn, you find yourselves indulging in random conversations from embarrassing childhood stories to things your friends have done. it's effortless, the way you connect with each other, as if you've known each other for much longer than just a few weeks.

you spot the aisle that the item would be in, and reach over to grab his shirt to steer him into the aisle. his eyes widen at the gesture, clearly being caught off guard.

the two of you scan the shelves for a good brand with a reasonable price. you both decide on a box and head to the checkout.

"hey. you aren't slick, i saw you slide those kitkats"

you bring your finger to your chin, "hmm, i don't recall. maybe it's a ghost telling us we need to get them."

the both of you quickly got into the car and drove to his house to get the ice cream he bought. surprisingly it was a really quick stop, he told you to stay in the car and darted into, and back out the house.

by the time the two of you had got back, unsurprisingly, they were still fighting over a movie.

"yn, yuta, please settle this dumbass debate," nobara pleads.

yuuji obnoxiously says that it should be the conjuring, while maki counters and suggests spider-man, but more specifically andrew garfield’s.

"guys.. yuuji may be right for once. conjuring sounds good as fuck right now"

megumi brings his hand up to his hair, clearly stressed you picked opposite of him "dude just get back in the car you’re unwanted." nobara brings her hand to her mouth clearly trying to stifle a laugh, while inumaki has no shame and does it anyway.

"bitch? i hope your 'situationship' unadds you." this nearly made yuta start praise dancing. his thoughts ran wild of "i have a chance oh my gosh" "she just might fuck with me.." "never will i doubt maki again"

your voice brings him out of his chaotic thoughts, "yuta! pick one!" "oh uh, conjuring i guess? never seen it"

bad idea. he felt like he needed a life saving medical procedure, he’d nearly shit himself 3 different times. the only thing that made the movie slightly tolerable was you sitting on his left. yuujis sitting on the floor and whispers, if you could call it that, and asks for some of your popcorn. you respond in a hushed voice, "no! you should’ve thought about that before you put it on four minutes."

yuta must’ve not gotten the hint not to reach in the bowl, because he took a handful of popcorn from the bowl. "oh but you’ll give your little boyfriend some. fine!" he faces back toward the tv, only to be met with a handful of popcorn flying at his face from maki telling him to shut the fuck up.

the rest of the night went smoothly but somewhere in there you found yourself knocked out on yuta. during the credits, inumaki and yuuji were laughing at him for pretty much not moving a muscle.

you woke up to an almost abandoned couch, just maki sitting on the end. you quirked an eyebrow, "where’d the rest go?" "outside."

"i do have a question for you though," the little people in your head are panicking right now, "do you like yuta?"

you sheepishly smile, "uhm. . . yeah he’s a good friend i guess?" she gives you a look that a disappointed parent would give their kid, "you know what i mean."

"i guess? yeah. i probably started liking him when i streamed with him for the first time, he’s really sweet."

she hums in response, and right in time, nobara comes back through the door with toge, and yuuji, megumi, and yuta trailing behind her.

do we fw the chapter.. did not proofread this

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[lxmelle]

Just some thoughts on 270

Yes the end is near.

Yes I almost threw up when I saw that unmistakable hairstyle...

Yes I was a bit disappointed that there were no visible satosugu crumbs - or are there? More on this later... and the it overall just felt a little bit 😔 empty 😪

Nevertheless, I want to just blab about a few things.

First, is it Geto/Kenjaku?

If we think about how Yuta’s copy CT works, Rika would need to consume a viable part of the sorcerer. The only part of Kenny left was his whole brain. He was the brain. The rest is Geto. We have not seen any evidence of Yuta having CSM, so it can be assumed that Yuta did not have Rika eat any part of Geto. Otherwise, it’s be Geto’s CT and not Kenjaku’s body-hopping technique.

Imho: The person with Takaba is not likely to be either Kenny or Geto. Geto cannot function without a brain, there was none “spare” either, so the theory of a spirit entering the body is going to make it alive again - no, it doesn’t. There is no other living sorcerer who can do that - Ui Ui maxed it out with the number of times and there is no other person to swap with. Just. Not. Possible.

And Kenny was seen to have told Mimiko and Nanako that he took Geto’s brains out to inhabit it.

So. My conclusion is that Gege is baiting. Just as he did with the “we have to help Yuta!” And the rude yelling that got so many of us wondering just who would speak to roughly to Yuta and what warranted it. We were all asking: who calls Yuta “Yuta” and not “Okkutsu-senpai” etc. I even thought it was Shoko, assuming that Maki was in the same hallway as the others, but the main culprit was of course the most obvious, Maki herself.

And that baiting thing with the clock theory about 2:21 pm linking with chapter 221 of Gojo’s unsealing - I theorised it’s about having presence (like how spiritualists, and in Shinto, believe that spirit is all around us) despite being dead and his soul with Geto.

And goodness know what other theories there are out there about time and Gojo revival. I’ve said before that I don’t buy into it, but it is interesting.

So is it Geto? Kenjaku? I 80% think not but... yeah, I am worried. To be completely transparent, I’m so scared that it is.

Because I’m in the camp of: please please Gege, please please please let Gojo and Geto be at peace in their eternal afterlife until they’re ready to be reborn and let them find each other over and over and over again.

So rationally, I doubt it is. But I’m worried. I’m worried for reasons like: why aren’t the bodies and resting places of Gojo & Geto still not mentioned?

Next thing to I have some thoughts on are about Itafushi. They’re really good friends and I think it’s also just one of those things Gege is doing because it’s JUMP and he doesn’t want to just pretend the Hana -> Megumi thing is forgotten. It also shows some character growth.

So overall, I’m rather neutral about the Megumi + Hana thing. They’re still kids, and Yuji + Megumi are compatible but they’re also not quite Satosugu, so their relationship will be undeniably different. Friends or otherwise.

It’s nice to see the Megumi is taking initiative and finding novel ways to make new meaning & connections. I wouldn’t read too deeply into it, especially since Hana obviously read too deeply into it and got it all wrong.

I will say that it feels cliche maybe. Again it’s maybe a JUMP serialisation thing shonen mangakas do, since a big portion of the fanbase are young boys too. Gege can’t be doing too much for lgbtq+ too obviously after all.

So it leaves me feeling it is a little reminiscent of the Sasuke and Sakura pairing in Naruto - as if it could become something seemingly out of convenience/settling/making do, but what do I know? Sometimes relationships in life are like that. I’d rather marry my best friend, but you know... different strokes for different folks. As they say.

Now it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t find a way to make it about satosugu. I’m imagining collective groans from people who may be reading this... so please skip if you’re bored of me now, lol. Or read on if you like to be in satosugu delulu brainrot like me.

One of the satosugu-related takeaways from this recent chapter is that it seems to reduce the possibility of interpreting Gojo not allowing Shoko to process Geto’s body as being out of consideration for her.

Her saying that the idiot should have let her process Geto’s body pretty much says Gojo took matters into his own hands. Not only was it protocol… but she also personally thought it would be a privilege. But Gojo did not let her.

We ofc don’t know the details.

So it leaves us with: He did it for his own reasons, or reasons at least relating to Geto. Kenjaku thought it was out of consideration. And Kenjaku is not a reliable narrator, nor was Geto... who tended to think he didn’t matter.

You know, as a person who can quietly just swallow vomit and shit rags without complaint. As a person who could practically transform the filth, negativity, evil, and darkness of the world into power that he could use for good - he was vessel of sacrifice.

Anyway, I digress.

It seems to indicate that Gojo kept his body to himself ... for his own reasons, breaking protocol.

And referring back to 270 again, for Shoko to talk about the afterlife right after preparing the body -> cremation is strange. Does preparing the body and cremating it have anything to do with the afterlife? 🤔 so somehow, prepare body -> cremate -> mourn/afterlife?

Interesting in that Gege is giving us yet another example of how everyone has a different reality / belief. If we believe what we saw in Gojo’s death, then there is one and Shoko will be proven wrong when her time comes like how Gojo was wrong about dying alone.

And it is also interesting in the sense that it’s familiar…

Something about how she said prior to Gojo’s unsealing, about “I couldn’t love either of you like you loved each other, but I was there too.” - am I reading too deeply? Probably. But it’s there for me to read.

Shoko prepared Tsumiki for cremation. She was made her beautiful for the afterlife - even if she was to be cremated, there was something about giving her something (dignity?) before she turned to ash. And those left behind can send them off into the afterlife feeling they did their best.

I think you’d need a certain level of trust for someone to hand your beloved over. Or at least feel like they would mourn the departed like you would. Or faith that your beloved would be happy with entrusting you with that decision. In some cultures, the family wash and swathe their dead in cloth with their own hands where possible.

So Shoko. Shoko could do it for Geto, for Gojo. She was there. She was willing. But. It was almost as if saying that Gojo 1. could not allow someone else to prepare Geto’s body, and neither did he seem to have mourned because 2. Geto was not cremated to be sent into the afterlife. As if he didn’t trust anyone. As if he could not let go.

Again, Rika kept Yuta’s body “alive” too. Parallels are paralleling.

I don’t know how Geto regenerated or if Kenny was responsible for it. Or if Gojo somehow did. But those are just unnecessary details at this point.

And again, Shoko was there but she could not be like what Gojo was to Geto and what Geto was to Gojo.

How complicated.

I’m reminded of that scene where he says to ichiji and Shoko: “There are just 3 of us remaining huh.”

In agreement to Shoko acknowledging that Geto’s body needed retrieving from Kenjaku, it was quite a pregnant pause from Gojo before he goes, “………yeah.”

He seemed surprised Shoko brought it up and decided to just gloss over it.

To me, it collectively implies that Gojo doesn’t let Geto be anyone else’s but his.

His friendship was his one and only. His loneliness was his. His dreams were his. His love was his. His life was his. His body was... his. And his soul was his too. As was his satisfaction.

I think Gege wants us to understand something here. By what he is showing and not showing us.

If I think about the exclusivity that they shared... the whole, “we are the strongest (together)” and “it wouldn’t be bad to be killed by you” or even “I’m jealous but if you were satisfied I’m glad for you.” and then “if you were there to pat me on the back I’d be satisfied.”

It’s a lot like... only YOU can be the one. And therefore I think Gojo kept Geto all to himself. Maybe thinking Geto would only want HIM to touch his body.

It was his exclusive right. And that was mutually shared... because Geto wasn’t really pleased with Gojo getting satisfaction from elsewhere (lol, you know, the “jealous” 妬けるね that got the fandom in a frenzy).

I’ve mentioned it in another post... link: https://www.tumblr.com/lxmelle/758015943938113536/i-love-the-idea-of-mutuality-that-is-deeply-rooted I really do like the idea of Gojo and Geto just teaching each other things. Like selfishness and love. Binding each other to the other. Selfishness and selflessness as part of being human.

Was this an act out of the side of Gojo that was “a little selfish, a little inhuman but a little too human”, and he wanted to keep Geto all to himself? Despite not giving his best friend a proper burial?

When I think about how he normally did what Geto approved of (you can dispute this if you wish) and I think back to how he might’ve really given Geto’s body back to his family- but what we saw in the manga seemed like they didn’t have much involvement either. Surely they’d have wanted Geto cremated?

So it leaves me with the idea that it was Gojo acting out his secret feelings.

Just Gege and how he shields Gojo’s privacy. Secret words. Secret thoughts. You know. Gege being Gege letting Gojo do Gojo things.

I think we might need to accept that Gojo and Geto just have this exclusive thing we aren’t privy to.

That’s all for now. Abrupt ending 🫡

Thanks for reading my rambling if you made it this far 🫶

Feel free to share your thoughts/comments/criticisms 😄

[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE | chapter seventeen !

You’re in the bathroom fixing up your makeup when suddenly lots of giggling girls come in. You know a few of them, mostly because of parties, but its not like you’re their friend. You can barely remember their names.

You’re minding your own business but then you hear Jungwon’s name. And it’s not like you want to eavesdrop, but you’re there, and it seems like they’re speaking loud enough for you to hear. So… you try to pay a little bit more attention to them.

“He’s totally into you.” “Actually, i think he might like me more, i look more like his type anyway.” You chuckle at their conversation. God, do they really think they have a chance with Jungwon? He might be mad at you, but its not like he’s going to forget you any time soon… right?

“And what would his type be?” The bathroom falls silent at that question, and out of curiosity you raise your eyes to look at them through the mirror and yes, they’re looking at you. “Tch.” You sigh, finishing putting on your lip oil.

“Oh… hi Y/n.” You glance at the girl in the center, the one who was saying so proudly how Jungwon might like her more. “You and… You and Jungwon aren’t together, right?” “We never dated in the first place.” They were all so brave behind your back, but now that you’re looking at them they’re acting so awkward.

The girls nod at your answer, and honestly you should leave it at this and just go back to class, but you want to act like a little bitch just a little more. “So.. you think you’re as pretty as me, Jiwon?” You smile at the younger girl, taking a step towards her. “No! No I meant like… we’re the same height, i guess.”

You laugh at that, she’s definitely shorter than you, but that’s not the point. “I’m just kidding.” You say, but you’re a hundred percent serious. You put your lip products back into your bag, getting ready to leave. “I’m done playing with him, you know? You can have him now.”

You walk towards the door, but before you can actually leave you turn around to say one last thing. “I don’t usually love secondhand stuff, but you do you, right?” And with that you finally leave. You sigh, you had imagined Jungwon would be popular once you guys stopped hanging out, but you didnt think it would take so little time, nor that it would’ve affected you this way.

You start walking towards the hallway when you suddenly hear more steps. “Secondhand stuff?” Fuck. You forgot that the boys and girls bathroom were connected. You turn around, Jungwon is standing there with his arms crossed. You dont want to fight again, the last few days’ crying was enough.

You run a hand through your hair, a tired expression on your face, but then you notice the smirk on his. “Do you want to be left alone yes or no?” He chuckles, shaking his head. He’s not too far from you, and you hate how pretty you find him, he still has that annoyed expression, but its not as bad as last time.

“I won’t thank you.” You shrug, its not like you need his thanks. You keep silent, thinking that it will make him go away, but instead he stays there, his eyes on you. Oh you hate this, can’t he just leave you alone? Does he really have to look at you with those eyes, his lips pursed and his brows furrowed.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You almost whisper those words, the desperation in your voice clear. “Like what?” “Like you hate me.” He sighs and you rest your head and shoulder on the wall, he does the same right in front of you. “I don’t hate you.” Jungwon is trying his best to not reach out to you, he wishes he could just put his hand on your waist and kiss you again, but things arent so good right now.

“I’m just disappointed.” Again, you don’t say a word. You know he is, you can see it in his face, in his tone of voice. He doesn’t hate you but maybe you’d feel better if he did. “I’m surprised Minji even lets you talk to me.” “Oh, she doesn’t, in fact, she’d be mad if she were to find out.” He chuckles lightly before you both go quiet again. Your chest is going up and down slowly, you’re still looking at him tiredly, or maybe its sadness. You’re about to say that you have to go, but he speaks first.

“She’d be madder if she knew how much I like you, even after all you did.”

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[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

ROUGH Chapter Snippet

I know I said I was on hiatus- but when inspo hits, it hits, and I mean, I've been feeling it lately- so the chapter might come out later this week)) Maybe. I hope you enjoy lol.

Music filled the air as she felt her finger gently glide against the surface of the now glowing water.

 The warmth of the sun and the water filled her, a wonderful change from the dark and dreary world they’d left behind. To say that the whole ordeal had left her in disbelief would be an understatement, but for now, she was alive and that was all that mattered. 

A sudden movement from beside her caught her attention as she watched fish of all shapes happily swim by them. A few even leaped into the air as the drops of shimmering water cascaded behind them. She chuckled, shielding her eyes from the water as Valentino pleated, gesturing his hoof down towards the side where a whale arose. 

“Whoa,” she whispered, catching sight of her reflection in his eyes before he sprayed water into the air and promptly disappeared into the sea once more.

“Valentino did you see that?!” she excitedly called as the goat nodded. “That was a Fin Whale! I didn’t know they swam by here this time of year! I never realized how big they were in person. Did you see how he looked at us? It was like we were ants!!” Valentino pleated, nodding in agreement with her as the castle and several ships came into view.

She could recognize one of the nearer ones as belonging to Silver’s and judging from the sounds of music and chatter that emerged from it, she was willing to bet that she’d been right.

“We’re here,” she told the dolphin-shaped star beneath her, feeling as he obediently began to slow, allowing her to take in the view once more. 

Against the sparkling sea and golden warm hues of the midday sky, there was no denying how beautiful the scene before her was. A beauty that she’d admitted had been hard to spot in the official’s meeting rooms or the dreary stone walls of her study. 

The star beneath her slipped from her grasp, nearly plunging her into the sea once more, before she’d felt hands hold her up, and the star’s smiling face greet her once more.

“Whoa!” she called, surprise filling her as he easily lifted most of her body out of the water. It was so easy to forget how strong he truly was when he wasn’t that much taller than her. 

He chuckled, gently releasing his hold on her, before reaching to pull off a piece of seaweed that had comfortably settled itself across the bridge of his nose. “Ugh,” he groaned, his face twisting in disgust as Asha laughed, taking his hand as he pulled her towards himself. “It seems as if I’m never safe from seaweed, regardless of where I go!” 

“You’ve had previous encounters with it?” she teased, trying to ignore how warm he had felt and how close they were to each other. 

“Far more than I care to remember,” he sighed, his upper half sinking beneath the water as his hair covered his eyes. But that didn’t stop him from turning towards her as he began, “So-,”

“So what?” she repeated, unsure of why she’d felt her heart skip a beat as she felt his hand wrap around her waist.

“Aren’t you going to admit that I was right? I told you that spending the day with me wouldn’t be bad!”

She frowned, quietly cursing how a strange heat had spread across her face. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Between the discovery of the city and her father’s journals, there was no way she could truthfully say that she was having anything close to what she’d consider a bad day. But that hadn’t meant that she was going to give the already smug-looking star the benefit of knowing he’d been right all along.

So she’d decided to pull a page from the star’s own playbook and quickly change the subject. “Hey Cepheus, you know how you said those buildings in the city were all inspired by star architecture right?”

He nodded, watching as she pointed towards the castle.

“What about the castle? Does it look like it took any inspiration from star architecture?” 

Much to her expectations, the star had shaken his head. “No, no that building is far too young and small for that.”

“Small? I’m sorry- the castle is small to you?”

“In comparison to a star’s castle? Yes. Of course, we have to have different-sized castles to accommodate our true forms, Asha. I doubt a low-ranking member of the court could fit into that castle, much less an alpha star,” he shuddered. “so the ones we have exclusively for stars are far bigger than the ones we build for human visitation and viewing.” 

“You guys let humans visit your palaces?”

He nodded, rising and falling with the tide as he held her. “Yeah. The astronomers who served closely under the alpha stars would frequent there when needed…”

“Were they beautiful?” she implored, looking from him to the sky. “The castles I mean.”

“Very,” he breathed. “And they still are. The alpha stars own several palaces across their domains, but they’re all beautiful.” 

“Have you seen them all?”

“I’ve visited most on occasion,” The alpha stars let star peasants visit their castles on occasion. Hmm, maybe the stars were more progressive than she thought. But then again, she wouldn’t be shocked if the term ‘peasant’ was another thing she could add to her list of interspecies cultural differences. 

“Do you have a particular favorite castle?” she inquired if only to distract herself from her impending questions.

Cepheus hummed thoughtfully as the pinkish-golden hues of his eyes met hers. “Hmm, they’re all beautiful in their own ways, but if I had to pick one, I think I’d give it to the Cerulean court’s castles, or more specifically- the Cygnus castle..”

“The Cygnus castle? Is that in the Cygnus constellation?”

He nodded, a pleasant smile making its way onto his face. “It is. My favorite castle there is the one that sits on the very edge of the domain,” he lifted a hand from the water and pointed to the sky. “You can see the waves from what we call the ocean, gather there. It was a gift from the stars of the sea constellations a few eons back that’s quite sentimental to us,” he sighed, the very edges of his lips quirking upwards in nostalgia. “But It’s always been a very beautiful place to go. Both for its history and its myths.”

“Really? Like what kind of myths?”

“Well…” he started carefully, as he brushed his hair from his eyes. “There’s one that says that if a star wishes to change their fate, they should go and visit those waters…It’s how they believe Deneb, one of the older alpha stars ended up unexpectedly meeting her soul mate when she was promised to another…Personally, I never saw much weight to it…until recently…” 

“Really?” she swam forward, too curious to feel embarrassed as she closed the distance between them even more. “I thought you said you never desired or wanted  for anything more.”

“And I don’t-,” he retorted, evidently not appreciating her question. “I was there for other reasons…sentimental ones if you will, it had nothing to do with what the glowing waters could or couldn’t do for me.”

“Hmm…So, what made you change your mind?” 

His voice trailed off as he turned his gaze upwards into the sky. “Well…I was there right before you wished on me.”

She blinked in surprise. “You were?”

He nodded, this time facing her. “I was.”

“So you think that me wishing on you is an act of fate itself? Really?”

He shrugged, “maybe? But who knows, I didn’t expect anyone to wish on me.” She was silent, as he thoughtfully continued, “One second I was with the others, talking to them, and then the next thing I know, all I can hear is your voice, and it was all that mattered to me in that moment.”

‘Was it?’ she wanted to ask. Of course, it was. He was a wishing star, granting wishes was the sole purpose of his existence, and as soon as he granted her wish he would disappear just as quickly as he came.  That was what she wanted, right? So why had the thought in and of itself, had filled her with an emotion that she couldn’t quite identify? 

She sighed, closing her eyes as she tried to reason. They were from two different worlds. Worlds that by all means were no longer connected. The best they could be was friends. The best she could be to him was a friend, one that she wasn’t sure if he’d remember in a few more years, regardless of- “BAAAAA-,’ screeched Valentino as he leaped into her arms and nearly on top of her.

“Valentino?!” she exclaimed as the star let her go. “What’s gotten into you?!”

The goat pleated before gesturing towards an incoming fin that was rapidly headed straight towards them.

“Shark,” Asha said, her brain barely comprehending what she’d seen until it neared.  “SHARK!?” she screamed, swimming backward.

“Where?” Cepheus asked, turning towards the direction of the incoming shark as it lifted its head out of the water. No sooner had the shark’s eyes met his than she saw the shark come to an abrupt halt before quickly taking off in the direction that it had quickly come from.

Had he-...A shark?!

She exchanged glances with Valentino, who was just as stunned as she was before the star turned back to her, smiling innocently as he’d proudly declared, “Apex Predator.”

“Hahahahahaha!” she erupted into laughter, feeling her stomach hurt as the star neared her, joining in her laughter as well. In all her years at the sea, she’d never seen a shark swim so fast, not even from whales or dolphins that had threatened to kill it. Tears welled in her eyes, as she wrapped her arms around the star. 

Had she not been laughing so hard, perhaps she would’ve noticed that the trio was no longer alone. But unfortunately for her, her discovery would come in the form of a familiar voice cut through the echoes of her laughter, “Asha-,” 

Wait.

Her laughter was cut short as she spun around, facing the familiar sight of Silver’s ship mere yards behind them. The captain stood overhead with the eyes of his prying crew and friends, all looking down to observe the trio as she saw her grandfather frown.

“Asha,” he spoke again.

“Saba?!” she screeched, shoving herself off of Cepheus. How had she not noticed the ship approaching?! Had she been so distracted by the star that-

No. What was she saying?! She couldn’t be distracted by Cepheus he wasn’t even in his star form!

“Saba I can explain, I swear-,” she cried as the sounds of the sailor’s laughter filled her ears. Oh God, how was she going to explain this?!

Her grandfather shook his head, sighing, as Capella pleated from his side, “Yep…my bloodline is doomed….”

[watsittoyah]

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, breeding kink, slight angst…

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate to help…)

Chapter 7- Everything is not what it seems…

It was the last night of your vacation and you really didn’t want to go back home. You were relaxed and well rested.

“Here mi amor. This piece is juicy.” Miguel feeds you a piece of mango and you moan because of the taste and juice. “I am going to miss eating mangos on this hammock.” You say as you sit up.

“I’ll miss it as well, but we can always come back.” Miguel kisses your shoulder and cuts more of the mango and eats a piece. You then remember what awaits you when you get back to Nueva York and you groan leaning against Miguel’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I still have to have that dinner with your ex. Do you think you can get Spider-Man to help me out?” He hands you another piece. “I can see what I can do. Maybe I can swoop in and save the day.”

“Yeah, maybe you can like throw her out a window too.” Miguel shakes his head. “Amor…”

“Okay, okay. I’ll throw her out the window.” You joke. Miguel gets up and he helps you out of the hammock. “Let’s go my little villainess. I have one more thing that I want to do with you before we have to get back home.”

“I thought we were staying in tonight?” You ask as you two walk into the house. “We are and we aren’t. You go ahead and get dressed and meet me in a few. Wear that pretty dress I bought you and wear those gold heels.” Before you could ask anymore questions, Miguel had ushered you into one direction while he goes another.

I guess you’re getting dressed.

You had a few things packed up like your souvenirs, and your clothes you’ve wore and washed. You pull out the gorgeous scarlet red dress that Miguel wanted you to wear. It was floor length and you take out your six inch golden heels.

As you get dressed, you look around the room and smile. This week was probably the best week you’ve ever had. You got to go scuba diving, seen the sights. You even got to eat delicious foods and spent a great amount of time with Miguel. This vacation was well deserved.

You put on your earrings and look yourself over in the mirror. This dress made your body look amazing. It clung to the right places and smoothed out others. You grab your lipstick and carefully put it on, you pull your braids up in a high bun and smile. “Perfect.”

Your heels clack across the floor and on the way out of the room you freeze. Something about this, it seems familiar. “What is up with this feeling?” You take a step forward and find Miguel wearing a suit.

“Miss Valentine. Please come with me.” He holds out his hand to you and you take it, hiking up your dress just a little so you don’t trip.

You hear music playing and you follow Miguel until you see a candle light dinner. “Miguel when did you have time to do this?” You ask as he pulls out your seat for you.

“I’ve had this planned since the first day. You know it’s pretty tricky making sure you didn’t know until now.” He says as he sits down.

On the table were red rose petals and two covered dishes. He nods for you to see and you expect to find food under the tray but instead you see a box.

“Miguel what’s this?” You look up and see him standing. “Just a gift for the wonderful woman in my life.” He picks up the box and opens it. Revealing an opal and rose gold necklace. “Here let me.” Miguel places it the necklace on for you and you immediately get up. “Baby, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You kiss him leaving lipstick marks all over his face. He smiles as you wipe it off. “There’s one more gift. Now close your eyes, and hold out your left hand.”

You frown at the instructions but you do as you’re told. “Mantenlos cerrados, princesa.” He says to you. “Miguel my eyes are closed, come on.” You feel him waving his hand in front of your eyes and you stand still in anticipation.

You then hear a loud alarm and you openly your eyes out of fear. “Forgive me. I need to answer this.” Miguel walks away from you and he speaks into his smart watch. You can’t hear what he’s saying but the look in his eyes he gets looking over at you tells you that he’s going to have to leave.

He walks back over to you after he was done with his conversation and he looked guilty. “What’s wrong?” You ask feeling scared. “It’s nothing serious, but I need to leave for just a few hours. As soon as I’m done I’m coming back to you. I guess you’ll have to wait for your other surprise.” Miguel kisses your cheek and he runs into the house.

“Wait Miguel! Where are you-“ You enter the house and strangely you knew he wasn’t there. “Going… Miguel?” You call out to him but there was no answer. Your hand touches the necklace and you sigh.

This is your life now, dating a hero means you’ll have special moments like this and it’ll get interrupted. Which this was okay. This is what you signed up for. The thing that you didn’t understand was how did Miguel just disappear from the house?

••••

Erica was smothering you with her boobs and telling you to never leave her that long again. “Get your tiddies out of my face!” She lets you go and you scoop up Milo. “Hi baby boy. I missed you.”

“You heifer! You don’t miss me but you miss my cat? Give me my son.” You laugh and give her a side hug. “I missed you too E. I got you and our friends some souvenirs. Let me just go unpack and then I’ll give it to you.”

You put Milo down and he meows and runs to the kitchen. “You’re a whole different breed, T. You’re the only person I know who gets home and immediately unpacks.”

“Who sits there and unpacks weeks or months later?” Erica points to herself. “Normal people.” You roll your eyes at her and she watches you unpack a bit.

“Where Miguel? I figured you two would be joined at the hip and talking about getting married by now.”

“He had to handle some business. So he won’t be spending the night.” Erica studies you and she sits on your bed. “What’s wrong?” You want to tell her the weird feeling you had but instead you bring up the other subject thats on your mind.

“So long story short, I have to have dinner with Miguel’s ex.”

“WHAT!? Explain please I need details, I need to know her name. What does this hoe look like?” You knew Erica was down for whatever and you loved her for it. “I’ll pause unpacking and tell you everything if you grab your laptop, some snacks and something harder than lemonade.”

“Girl shit you ain’t say nothing but a word. I’ll be back on five minutes. Milo! Don’t come in here we’re doing hot girl shit!”

About an hour later, Erica was stalking Dana’s socials. “She had the nerve to say hmm I see he has a type.” You say as you take a sip of wine. “The fuck is that suppose to mean? See she was kinda cute but that was ugly. I see why he dumped her ass. Just a bully.”

“I will say she does look like a model. And she has pretty hair.” You say as you twirl your fingers around one of your braids. “Girl I know a Brazilian twenty four inch bust down when I see one, snatch that bitch off and she’s bald headed. She’s not all that. Miguel upgraded when he got with you. Oop hold up, look at this.”

You move across the bed and you look at Erica’s laptop. She points and on her Facegram she had posted a memory.

The memory was a photo of her and Miguel at some fancy dinner. The caption says: Here with my date, isn’t he the cutest?

Miguel looked blankly at the camera while Dana was smiling like a child on Christmas.

“Save my boy, Miguelito! He looks miserable.” Erica bursts out laughing and you look at the date. “This was from last year. From today. Why did she repost this today?” You ask out loud. “I don’t know she’s weird. Didn’t you say that Miguel said she had issues?”

You nod and you take Erica’s laptop and look at Dana’s post. You look at her page and see she has a few posts about charity evens and even some posts about vacations, but those were dated months ago.

Why did she repost this picture the day you came back from your vacation? Were you being paranoid? Was there something behind this?

You close the laptop and you down the rest of your wine. “I’m going to keep an eye out on her. There’s something about her that I don’t like.”

“Well I don’t like her period. So when you go to that dinner I’m coming.” You give her a look. “Now how are you going to be coming?” She shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m not letting you be alone with that wanna be Bratz doll. Wait I take that back, I liked my Bratz dolls when I was little. She’s more like a furbie. You know those ugly little things back in the day?” You nod and get up out of your bed.

“I’m getting some more wine do you want some?” Erica yawns and shakes her head. “No, but I’m sleeping in your bed tonight. I hope you don’t mind.” You leave the room and as you get some more wine you see your phone light up on the counter. You check it and see you have a voicemail from Miguel. You go ahead and give it a listen.

“Hola amor. I’m sorry for not seeing you off to your apartment. I’m going to be busy for a while. It’s some lab things and you know my other job. But I want to say again that I enjoyed being with you this past week. And when I am finished up, I want to talk to you about something. Huh? Oh…Tommy mi amor, I love you. I’ll talk to you soon.” The voice mail ends and you smile at your phone.

As you turn to go back to your room, you swear you see something pass the window. You stop and you look at the window.

Something…

Something was at the window but you don’t see it. You walk up to the window even though in your head, it’s telling you to stop. It’s telling you to turn around and don’t look at the window. You cup your eyes and search and-

“T! Can you make sure Milo has water?” Erica calls out. “Yeah sure!” You say back as you turn your back to the window.

You can’t see it, but something was out there…

•••

“Are you sure you can’t kidnap me for the night?” You ask as you look at your calendar as you switch your phone from your left to your right ear. Miguel chuckles over the other end. “Amor, if it’s so bad then just push back the dinner.”

“I did, twice. I can’t push it back anymore. I have to go tonight. Can you stay close by?” You ask him as you grab a pleated skirt and cute shirt from your closet. “I will, but I thought Erica was going to be with you?”

“Her boss is making her work late tonight.” You tell him. “I’ll be close by, amor. I promise.” You groan at your outfit because you wanted to be perfect. You didn’t want Dana to out dress you.

“Amor, I know you. Are you overthinking your outfit? Video call me, and show me.” You two hang up and then you video call Miguel. He answered immediately. You prop your phone on your desk and then you show him your outfit.

“I feel like I look like a school girl in this.” Miguel motions for you to do a spin and you do it. “I see nothing wrong with a school girl look. Maybe you should save that outfit for us later. We can role play the naughty school girl and the horny professor.”

You try to keep the smirk off of your lips but fail. “Miguel I’m serious. The dinner is casual but I feel like it’s a trick somehow.”

“Dana is the type to go against dress code. How about that emerald dress? You know the one that’s thigh length? You can wear the matching heels I had bought you and have your hair down.”

You get the outfit together and you change into the outfit. You hear Miguel clapping. “Yes! Esa es mi chica! You look beautiful. I’m pretty sure Dana will be jealous of your outfit.” Your face warms up and you smile. “Thank you, I should let you dress me up more often. Being your doll is kind of fun.”

“Mm, I prefer undressing you, amor…I wish I could be there. I miss those lips.” You sit at your desk and lean forward, letting him see your chest. “Which pair?” You joke. He stares for a moment and then he look up at you. “Both, if I’m being honest. Life as Miguel and Spider-Man can be very tiresome.”

“It is, but I’m proud of you. I’ve been keeping tabs on you and I clipped some newspaper strips.”

“You sound like my biggest fan. I bet you have a scrap book started.” You raise your brows. “How did you know?” He bursts out laughing. “Because I know you amor. When I’m all done and when you’re done with your dinner, I’ll come over. Draw you a bath and you can tell me about everything.”

“That actually sounds so good…oh I have to get going. Baby, how will I know you’re around?” You ask him. “Well you two are having dinner at the Moore Lounge. I’ll be close by. Trust me you won’t miss me.” You nod as you grab your clutch and your keys. “I’m leaving now, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“I love you too amor.” You both hang up and you tell Milo to be good as you leave the apartment.

You arrive at the Moore Lounge and as you head inside you walk over to the host. “Hello I’m here for the D’Angelo party.” The host gives you a smile. “You must be Miss Valentine. Right this way please.” They lead you further inside and you were brought to the upper level.

They open a private room and there Dana sat. She looked bored until you came in sight. She got up and walked over to you. “Tommie, it’s so good to see you again.” She kisses your cheek and you feel a shiver because her lips felt cold.

“It’s nice to see you as well.” You lie. She takes a step back and she was wearing a mustard yellow form fitting dress. How did this girl make an ugly colored dress look so good? You think to yourself. “You look so pretty, and your hair.” She reaches over to touch it but you move back.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I know how you people get when being touched.”

What the fuck is that suppose to mean?

You ignore that comments and she ushers you to the table. “Miss D’Angelo thank you for giving Mr Stark the opportunity to work-” She waves your comment off. “Please, just call me Dana. I should be thanking you. If I got an invitation from my boyfriends ex I’d be suspicious. But you don’t have to worry about me. I want us to be friends since my father and your boss will be working together.”

A waiter comes in and asks if the two of you are ready to order. “I’ll have a bottle of your finest and I’ll have a steak medium well, shrimp, chilled and a fresh side salad. No dressing please. You can order anything you’d like. Money is no option.”

Why does that remark makes you feel as if she’s trying to be funny?

“Right…I’ll have the chicken carbonara, and a side salad, with thousand island dressing please and just an apple martini.”

The waiter lets the two of you know that your meals will be ready shortly

Dana leans over touching your knee and she smiles. “Again, thank you for coming tonight. I don’t have many girlfriends. The ones that I do have seem to like me for my connections, and not for me.” You nod feeling a bit sad for her.

“Thank you for inviting me. This place is very nice. And I’ve heard the food here is great.”

“I sure hope so, my father gifted me this place last year for my birthday.” You side eyed her as she checks her makeup in the reflection of a butter knife.

Okay spoiled much.

“Tommie, how’s Miguel been these days? Does he still work like a mad man day and night?”

“Well, yes. But he makes time for me. I just love how passionate he is when it comes to his job though.” Dana rests her cheek against her knuckles and she gives a smile. “Oh yes, I remember. There was this one time where we were going out but he had to cancel at the last minute and go to the lab. Tell me has he ever shown you his office? His desk is just so spacious.”

You grind your teeth because how does she know that?

“Yes, but from what Miguel told me you two only went out on one date.” You tell her seeing her eye twitch. “Well, yes. But it was one date in the public eye. Him and I were together for a while. Didn’t he tell you?” You try not to look pissed off and your eyes land out the window where you see movement.

You then see Miguel dressed in his spider suit and Dana moves her head to see what you’re looking at but you scoot in to stop her. “Enough about Miguel, I heard that your family does a lot of charity work. That’s impressive, what charities has your family done?” You ask.

“Oh tons, mostly some for cancer, some for orphans, I think we did one for a school in Africa but I don’t remember. My parents are the ones who does that sort of thing. You know you look really pretty. Like you’re model pretty.”

“Thank you. You’re too kind.” You tell her. “So, how long have you and Miguel have been together?” She asks as the waiter comes back with your drinks. “Oh, for a while.” You answer.

“But how long? Months? Several months? Has he shown you his…other side?” You pause before answering. “What other side are you talking about?” You challenge as you glance at Miguel out the window.

“Oh nothing too crazy. Just…Miguel tends to have a temper. But then again you know what they say about Latin men. And he is Irish. He just oozes red, doesn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t know, he’s only ever been sweet to me.” You say as you sip your drink. “Well aren’t you a lucky, lucky girl.” She says as she pours herself a drink. She sips it and watches you from the corner of your eye.

“Are you mixed? You look mixed.” She asks you. “No, my parents are both black. Why?” She gives a slight shake of her head and giggles. “Mm, forgive me it’s just Miguel dating a woman such as yourself seems so, well you know.”

“No I don’t. But do explain.” You say gripping your glass, thinking about throwing it in her face. “Well-”

The waiter comes in with your food and you couldn’t be more happy. Maybe her chewing will make you not want to jump over this table and knock her teeth down her throat.

As you cut into your food you see Dana looking into her phone. “Ah, did I mention my trip from Italy? It was gorgeous. The food, the culture. The men. All delicious.” She says as she places her phone down and she grabs her fork and knife.

“That’s nice.” You say keeping your replies short. “Tommie, I get the feeling that you don’t like me much. But I’m only looking out for you. You know seeing that we both have been with the same man.” You put your utensils down.

“Dana, I don’t know what sick and twisted things you’re trying to do but cut the shit. Miguel is a sweet man. I don’t know about his past with you and I don’t care-” She tries to interrupt but you stand up. “I’m not finished. You need help, and you need to get over whatever it is. Thank you again but I think I’ll be leaving.” You turn and she laughs.

“Oh sweet little Tommie. I’m only warning you because I was where you were. Miguel isn’t who he says and you deserve to know. And if you’re not careful you’ll become like me, the girl watching Miguel play with his new shiny toy. But you go ahead and play stupid, baby girl. When he breaks your heart. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You fight the tears as you leave the room and you continue walking to the parking lot. You know Miguel is close by but you rush into your car and you peel out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

You don’t even know how you made it to your apartment without breaking down, but you slammed the door and kicked off your heels.

You felt hot all over as you unzip your dress and let it pool at your feet. You snatch the dress up and as you go to your bedroom you hear your window open, but you don’t bother to turn, you know who it is.

“Am-” You shoot Miguel a venomous glare and he takes a step back. “Tommie, what is wrong? What did she say to you?” You ignore Miguel for a moment and you grab a t shirt, throwing it on.

“Miguel, be honest with me. How many dates did you go on with Dana.” You turn to him as you pull your braids into a high ponytail. “Only one-”

“Then why in the fuck does she know stuff, Miguel? She knows intimate things that I know because I’ve been intimate with you!” You snap at him. He walks to you but you place a hand up and take a step back.

“Tommie, I don’t know what she told you but I’m telling the truth. I only had one date with her and I never even kissed her.” You take a deep breath through your nose.

“She made me look st-“ You clasp your hands together as if you were praying and you calm your breathing. “She made me look stupid, Miguel. She told me how you two were together for a long time, she told me about your office. About the spacious desk. She told me about your tempter that I’ve only catch glimpses of. How could she know those details? H..how.” You can taste the tears in the back of your throat.

He pulls you in and you push back. “Answer me!” You lash out. “Amor, I don’t know. But I’m telling the truth. Dana and I have never been intimate. When I left her, I knew she was heart broken but I didn’t think she would lie to you in this way.” You look up into his eyes and there. Right there you can tell he’s telling the truth.

“Miguel just go to your apartment. I want to be alone.” He shakes his head. “No, I’m not leaving you alone like this.” You try to push him back but he was solid. “Then go sleep on the couch. I want to be alone. I want to be alone.” You feel your shoulders shake as the tears you’ve been holding back finally falls.

You let out the tears and Miguel pulls you in, engulfing you in his arms like a security blanket. “I’m here. Estoy aquí mi amor. No te estoy dejando.” Miguel says as he kisses your forehead. You wrap your arms around him and you two stand in your room as you let the tears fall…

After an hour, you were sniffling and Miguel was rubbing your back as you two laid in bed together.

“It’s okay, pretty girl.” Miguel whispers as he wipes the remaining tears from your face. You turn your head so you’re facing your pillow. “I am not pretty right now. My eyes are puffy, my lips are chapped. I probably look like those bums that beg for change at the gas station.” You moan into the pillow.

“Well I’d give you every last cent.” You look over at Miguel after that comment and he leans in. “You’re stupid.” You laugh and he gives a smile.

“There’s my pretty girls smile.” You sit up and sniffle still. “I’m sorry for that. Yelling at you and just crying like a big baby.”

“No, amor. You don’t have to apologize for that. You were frustrated. I’d rather you let it out then bottle it up.”

“Dana just made me so mad. The way she talked down to me and how she talked about you. I was so close to hitting her.”

“I’m glad you didn’t resort to violence. But I think it would be best if you aren’t near her.” He says as he pulls you between his legs. “Yeah, because next time she won’t be so lucky. I have to ask, why the hell did you even date her?”

He gives a heavy sigh. “I did it out of pity and for her to leave me alone. Dana has this thing where she picks and picks until she gets what she wants. She had invited me to a charity event and when we arrived she looked bored. She only perked up when the cameras were around. But she was the most self centered, boring, egotistical woman I had ever met. She was even rude to the waiting staff and I just couldn’t take it. I told her that this wouldn’t work and I broke it off with her right then and there.”

“Hmm, she sounds fun.” You say to him. “She wasn’t my type of fun. But enough of Dana. I want to tell you about tonight, you’re going to love this.” You turn so you’re facing him and give him your ear.

“So there was this group of kids, and the smallest one was trying to catch up but I could tell he wasn’t going to make it across the street in time, so I land in front of him. Casi lo asusto. Poor kid, but he looked at me and he asked if I could help him cross the street.”

“And did you?”

“Of course. Once I got him across the street the other kids all crowded him, treating him like the coolest kid ever. I know it might not sound spectacular like saving people from a burning building, or stopping a mugger. But that smile on that little boys face was, the best reward ever.”

You push him back and get on top of him, kissing his face. “Can I just say that I am so proud of you? You do so much, and no matter the problem you find a way to solve it.” Miguel holds you by the hips and he rubs your lower back. “It’s nothing, amor.”

“Stop being so humble. You can flex a little baby. You deserve it.” You lean down and you kiss his stubbled face. “Oh, that tickles.”

“Debería afeitarme. I’m starting to look like my sperm donor.” You let out a laugh. “Well I think this stubble looks sexy. Makes you look rugged. Like those men who come home after cutting wood all day.”

“Oh, so thats what turns you on? Lumberjack men?” He flips you onto your back, causing you to scream as he tickles you. “Stop! Miguel! Stop!” He gives you mercy and he just looks at you. “What? You look like you have something to say.”

“Can I take you out tomorrow for a bite to eat?” He asks as he rubs his nose against yours. “Of course, I’m sure I can squeeze you into my busy schedule.” You wrap your legs around him and he kisses your neck, and starts kissing down to where your necklace sits. “Miguel, what are you doing?”

“I am admiring you. You are beautiful and before you wave my comment off, you deserve to flex. You deserve to do so, amor.” You roll your eyes. “I know you didn’t just quote me to me, you dork.” You tease as your hands reach under his boxers.

“Ay dios mío, princesa. What are you doing?” You look up at him fluttering your lashes at him. “I’m not doing anything bad.”

“Oh but you are being bad. You’re…mmmm, siendo muy mala. Amor, don’t just stroke me…guide it in.” He moans as he gently grips your throat. You bite your lip smiling at him as you scoot your panties off.

“Awe but Miguel, you called me a bad girl. And if I’m so bad, then why would I…” You rub him against your lips and clit and you watch his eyes flutter closed. “Tommie, por favor deslízalo, amor.” He begs which makes you giggle. “I like this side of you. You begging.” You slide the tip in and he moves his hand and he holds himself up by his elbows.

“Don’t tease me. Por favor, cariño, no te burles de mí.” You bite and pull at his bottom lip and you flick your tongue up as you see his fangs. “I’m a bad girl, remember? Why don’t you just thrust in? It won’t…take much effort.” You guide him a little deeper and in a snap his eyes went from a dreamy hazel to a blood shot red.

He thrusts in and he places a hand over your mouth. “If you were my good girl, then I’d let you moan. But you were a bad one. Now lay there and just take it. And if you let out even a whimper without my permission, I will stop. Me entiendes?” You nod, letting him know that you understand and he thrusts in as he holds your hands above your head.

“Esto es demasiado bueno. This is just too good amor. I bet you want to moan and let me know you want me to go deeper.” You nod and he gives a chuckle.

“Too bad, you’ll get it how I want it. And I want it like this.” He does a quick thrust and he slows down then slides out. “Would you look at that amor. I guess I have to slide it back in.” Without warning he thrusts it back up almost causing you to groan.

“Qué fue eso? Huh? Did a sound just come out of that pretty mouth?” You shake your head and he slides back out almost getting a whimper out of you. “Awe, princesa. I bet you want to speak. I bet you want to moan my name. Don’t you? Go ahead you have permission to answer me.”

“Yes, yes I want to moan. I want to m-” He puts a hand over your mouth. “That’s enough.” He bites your neck which catches you off guard and causes you to let out a loud moan.

Miguel draws his fangs back and he raises a brow at you. “Oh I heard that. But I’m a merciful man, am I not?” You nod and he slides out of you and he pulls you over so you’re on top. “You’ll listen and be a good girl this time, right amor?”

“I’ll be good. I promise.” You tell him as you straddle him and feel his dick resting against your lower stomach. “Buena, now show me how I like to be ridden, belleza.” He places his hands behind his head and you hike yourself up.

You position yourself above his dick and when you slide down he moans. “Oh fuck.” His dick throbs as it stretches you out and you place your hands on his chest to keep yourself balanced.

“No tengas miedo. Show me how good girls ride.” Miguel takes one’s of his hands and he cups your right breast, massaging it. “I’m no…not scared.” You lean back and you rock your hips just how he likes it.

You lean your head back as you look up at your ceiling. You moan out his name as he calls you several pet names in Spanish. Miguel then moves his hips and you lean forward quickly. “I know what those clenches mean, amor. Come for me.” And on command it seems, you grab him upwards and you come as he holds you close to him.

He grabs a hold of your ass and he comes deep inside of you. “I love you, I love you so much.” He moans as both of your bodies relaxes together. You two look into each others eyes and you kiss him. “You are mine, Miguel O’Hara. Do you understand me? Mío.” You say rubbing his stubble with your fingertips. “That is right. I am yours amor. And your Spanish is getting better I see. Let me teach you something. Say this. Eres mi corazón en forma humana.”

“Eres mi corazón en forma humana.” You say perfectly. “Good, you did good, amor.”

“Thank you, but uh what did I say?” You ask as the two of you lay back down together. “Nothing bad if that’s what you’re wondering.” You give a scoff and you look at your ceiling again. “Baby? Can I ask you a question?”

“I hope it’s not about Dana.” You make a face. “Ew, hell no.” You lean up on one of your elbows and you look at Miguel’s profile. “Are there more people out there like you? Like an elite team of Spider-people?”

He chuckles at you question. “You can say that.” You get wide eyed. “Wait for real? Can I be a spider person?” He shakes his head. “Yes for real, but no to you becoming like me. I love you the way you are, and this job is tough. Anyways, what would I do if my heart got hurt?” Miguel strokes your cheek and you hold his hand close.

“I could be your side kick. Spider-Man and his trusty partner in Justice. Spider-Byte.” Miguel gives a yawn and cuddles you. “Maybe we can talk about a different type of partnership later. But for now let’s get some sleep.”

“Alright, good night Miguel.” You kiss his cheek one more time and he inhales your scent. “Good night, amor…”

••••

“Miguel, where are you taking me?” You ask as he drives further down town. Miguel was taking you out somewhere special and you were a bit anxious on where exactly. All you see were a bunch of buildings close to each other.

“It’s a surprise. But the hint I’ll give you is, this place means a lot to me. And to someone I cherish close to my heart.” Miguel says as he parks his car on the side of the street. You look around as you get out of the car and Miguel takes your hand.

He leads you to an apartment and he knocks on the door. A small woman with dark black hair answers the door and her eyes lights up when she sees Miguel.

“Ay! Mi bebe varon!” Miguel leans down and kisses the woman on her cheek. “Hola Mama. Esta es mi novia, Tommie Valentine.” Miguel looks at you and you give a shy wave. “Hello Ms. O’Hara.”

She opens her arms to you and you step in for the hug. “You are so beautiful! Oh! Come, come inside. I have lunch ready. Espero que ustedes dos trajeron su apetito. Miguel, help me in the kitchen. Tommie, please please have a seat.”

She leads you to the living room while Miguel heads to the kitchen. When she leaves you there, you look around and you see pictures of two boys.

One of them looks like Miguel but he had two missing front teeth.

“Oh he looks so cute, the other little boy must be his brother.” You hear Miguel laughing in the kitchen and you walk in to see what’s going on. “Mom, I don’t think we can eat all of this food.”

“Nonsense, you’re skin and bones, niño. I remember when you use to eat three plates of my food. And then take from your brother.”

As you watch the two of them you smile. Seeing Miguel interact with his mother was adorable. “It smells really good in here, Ms O’Hara.” You say to Miguel’s mother.

“Tommie, you don’t need to be formal. You can call me, Conchata. Or mom if that’s easier. Anyways has my son been eating? He seems to have lost some weight.”

“Oh Miguel loves to eat.” You say giving him a side eye. He glares at you but shakes his head with a smile. “Well, mom. Tommie feeds me well. In fact this morning-” You step in. “Here let me make you a plate, you look famished.”

Conchata stops you. “You sit, both of you. I’ll make the plates. Tommie, I have pork shoulder, Spanish rice, some salad. Oh I have chicken and I think the ice tea is cold. Niño please grab it for me. Tommie, you aren’t a vegetarian are you? I should’ve asked.”

“No, I eat anything except jello.” You joke. She makes you your plate and she places it down and gets started on Miguel’s.

“Mom, ven a comer. I can make my plate.” She waves Miguel off. “Let me do this. It’s not like I get to do this often. You don’t visit me like your brother does.”

“Mom, you know I would come to visit more often but my job keeps me busy.” Miguel tells her as she places his plate down. “And Gabriel is a cop, but he comes and makes time for his mother.” Miguel gives her a look and goes to eat.

“Primero da las gracias, Miguel.” He sighs and takes my hand and his mothers hand. “Thank you lord for this food. Bless the hands who have prepared it. And lord, please let my mother understand why I don’t visit often.”

“Miguelito...” She warns. “Amen.” She kisses his temple and she gets her plate on the table. As you take the first bite you moan from the taste. “Conchata, this is delicious.” You take a few more bites and she gives you a kiss on your temple too. “Thank you, Tommie. You know Miguel has told me a lot about you. I can see why my son is so in love.”

“Mom, don’t embarrass me.” Miguel whines. “No te estoy avergonzando. You are in love, and that is beautiful. You know your brother he’s in love with his girlfriend. You would know that if you came for family dinners.”

Miguel just eats his food. “I know mom, I know.” He mutters as he chews his rice. “Tommie, make sure you save some room for dessert. I made tres leche cake. It’s Miguel’s favorite.”

“Oh, he’s made that a few times for me. Do you make it with lots of strawberries?” She nods. “I do, but lately they’ve become so expensive at the grocery store.”

“Well, my grandmother, she has a garden and she has a lot of fresh strawberries. Maybe I can ask her to give you some.”

“Ay niña, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure my grandmother would love to meet you as well.” As the conversation continues, you hear fire trucks in the distance. Conchata gets up and peeks outside of her window.

“Oh Dios mío! Mr Li’s pizza shop is on fire.” You look over at Miguel and he gives a slight nod. “Mom, I’ll be right back. I just need to use the bathroom.” Miguel gets up and you get up and walk Miguel’s mother back to the table.

“Conchata, can you tell me about Miguel when he was younger?” You ask to keep her distracted. “Miguel he was my sweet boy. Always sticking up for what’s right. He would come home with bruises but he would smile through the pain because he would make sure the bullies knew their place. But I taught him that he can use more than his muscles. He could use his brains. My sweet boy he created so many inventions in the garage I thought the fbi would come by the house at any moment.” She laughs at a memory and you touch her hand.

“Miguel is a brilliant man. I’m just lucky he’s in my life.” She touches your hand as well and touches your cheek. “My son is blessed to have you in his life. And just between us, I think you make him a better man. He was down for a while but when he did come and visit he mentioned how he finally got to talk to you. He said the pretty girl down the hall gave me a chance. Do me a big favor, niña. If he ever forgets himself, remind him who he is from time to time.” She winks at you and you smile. “I will.”

“Are you ladies talking about me?” Miguel says as he enters the kitchen. “No sé de qué estás hablando.” She says to him.

Miguel gives his mother a kiss on the cheek and he sits back down besides you. He holds your hand and that was perfect. “Mom, can we have dessert outside?” Miguel asks. “Sí. We can.”

After lunch the three of you were on the back deck and you feel Miguel hold you from behind as you look at the scenery. “Miguel not in front of your mother.”

“Amor, we aren’t doing anything my mother hasn’t done. Need I remind you she has two sons.”

“Miguel, behave yourself.” Conchata says as she places dessert on the table. “Oh no, I forgot to grab the coffee.”

“Mom, nosotros no lo necesitamos.” She gives her son a frown. “Miguel, tú y Tommie vayan a la tienda y compren el buen café.” Miguel goes to protest but stops. “Don’t take out your money, mom. I got it. Tommie let’s go.” You follow Miguel to the front and as you do you see the firefighters taping off the pizza place.

“How many people did you save?” You ask him. “Six. It was pretty easy, but I’m not bragging.” He says as he holds your hand. “Right, not bragging. So do they know how the fire started?”

You two cross the street and continue to walk. “They said it was faulty wiring. Hopefully Li can get that han-” Miguel stops and looks up. As you do the same you see something in the air flying around. “What is that?” You ask as it’s getting closer.

“Run!” Miguel yells as the green creature swoops down and throws what looks like a pumpkin.

As the pumpkin lands, you hear a high frequency sound and it explodes causing you, Miguel and the few people on the street to go flying.

You can feel your hand being ripped away from Miguel and when you land, you land hard. The wind was knocked clean out of you.

You sit up and all you see is the aftermath of the chaos. You look around for Miguel but he was nowhere in sight. “Miguel!” You call out his name and as you go to stand you wince. You definitely feel that you have a broken rib or two. You see an old woman on the ground. You go over and you help her up. As you check to see if she’s okay you hear laughing in the air behind you.

“Look at what we have here.” You turn and you see a person in what looks like a goblin costume. “Miss, go.” You usher the lady to go elsewhere and you take a step back. You then see a glowing red web and you see Miguel in his spider suit.

He swoops in and he sends a deadly punch into the gut of the goblin wearing freak. You hold your side as you start running to safety.

“My baby! I can’t find my baby! Please help me find my baby!” A woman runs and screams. You run to her to help. “Miss, what does your baby look like?”

“He’s….a small boy, he’s wearing a black panther shirt and-oh my god! Jacob!” You turn to where the woman is looking and you see a small child crying in the middle of the street. Your legs take off running before your brain can figure out what to do next. You see a large concrete slab fall but you swoop in and grab the boy just in time.

You run into a building and the boy was crying. “I want my mommy.” You hold him close. “I know, and I’ll bring you to your mommy. We just-” As you try to leave the building, you see another pumpkin fall and you run back inside. It explodes causing the building to crumble.

You go towards the back of the building and you cover the boys nose because the smoke just smells terrible.

You make it up the stairs of the building and you see a balcony. You wave down below for anyone to hear and you hear Jacob crying harder for his mom.

You set him down and you cough. “Hey, hey you’re Jacob right?” He nods and you hold his hands. “Jacob, I see you like super heroes, well I have a super hero friend. His name is Spider-Man.”

You feel wind past you and there was Spider-man. Jacob hides behind your leg and you kneel down. “This is my friend Spider-man. I know he can look big and scary, but he is going to bring you back to your mom. Is that okay?” Jacob nods and you pick him up and hand him to Spider-Man.

“Hold onto me miss.” You wrap your arms and legs around him as he hold Jacob in his other arm. As he swings through the buildings, you point to Jacob’s mother and he lands. He hands Jacob to him mother and she kisses his face, while telling Spider-Man thank you.

You unwrap yourself from him and you get a strange sensation in the back of your throat.

You bend over and cough out blood. As you wipe your lip you feel your legs give out. He catches you and you notice it’s harder for you to breathe.

“Amor, breathe. I need you to breathe.” He says in a panic as he holds you upright. You try to make your lungs work but they don’t listen. Instead you cough up more blood and you hear sirens in the distance.

“Tommie! Necesito que respires! Come on, baby breathe.” He shakes you a bit and you get tunnel vision as your throat fills with blood. “She needs help!” You hear Miguel scream as you lose consciousness…

Previously, Next

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

-

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

[bg-brainrot]

Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 14: After Defeating Cazador

Chapter 14: After Defeating Cazador

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Act 3, Canon-typical violence, Astarion's coping mechanisms, Astarion's quest, cw: Astarion's trauma

WC: 3.1k words, 14/18 chapters

Summary: Set in Act 3, the conclusion of the Pale Elf questline, Rogue!Tav needs to find just the right moment to support Astarion.

Author's Note: Bringing over my same note from AO3, since this was the chapter, the one that inspired this series all the way back in September.

I, like many, wanted to just jump in and give Astarion a hug. But as someone who relates all too deeply to Astarion, I felt like it was his time to just let it all out. And when a wound is that raw? To me, it’s all about timing. Naturally a disclaimer that everyone heals differently, wants different things, and this is colored a lot by my own experiences/attitudes! I just wanted to explain a bit of my reasoning behind this hug.

Ao3 | [Hug13][Hug15] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

You’ve all but done it. One more well-placed dagger and your team has defeated a vampire lord in his own lair, his cruel ritual stopped in its diabolical tracks.

Or at least you hope it’s been stopped. Astarion is looking at you, eyes pleading with you in a desperate frenzy you've not seen before. “I can do this, but I need your help.”

“Astarion,” you start, his name nearly choking you. You’re not a paragon of good or a champion of righteousness. You’re just another Baldurian rogue who got caught up in this tangled mess of mind flayers and gods. So you weren’t lying when you told your lover you would consider this. You’ve thought long and hard about this, you’ve lost sleep over this, and, ultimately, you know you cannot let him go through with this. “If I help you complete this ritual, these people will all die.”

“These people died years ago, trust me on that,” he says dismissively, as if these lives are just a few gold pieces at the bottom of a stolen pouch. “All that’s left are feral spawn, desperate for blood.”

However, you see these words for the truth of them: he sees himself in these spawn. He hates that he sees himself. When you respond, you can barely hear your own voice through the pounding in your ears, the panic coursing through you. “They don’t need to be desperate nor feral if they’re given a means of survival. They just want to live, like you do.”

Astarion bristles at that, and his next words come out angry, “And if we release them, how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?” 

His questions aren’t meant to be answered, you know that much– He’s justifying his actions, to you and to himself. That doesn’t stop you from answering his line of rhetorical questioning, “You don’t know what they will do, none of us do.”

Your words fall on deaf ears, as his mouth catches up to the arguments he has readily prepared for your hesitation. “If they die and I ascend, I won’t have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I’ll be free – truly, completely free.” Astarion sounds so blissful, on his tongue is a taste of that ephemeral happiness that he’s been so fervently chasing. It tugs at your heartstrings, plucking at them expertly in a way that only a master manipulator like him can. “Isn’t that what you want?” His tone challenges you to deny his happiness, and clarity hits you like a ton of bricks.

He’s reverted back to his old, guarded self. He’s the Astarion you met on a ravaged beach, the man who wanted to leave an entire grove of tieflings for dead to save himself, who tried to seduce you for protection. And you’re not about to let this moment reshape him into someone you know he isn’t. Not truly.

You look into Astarion’s eyes, those ruby pools that have drawn you in so very many times over the last few months. Over your travels, you’ve caught his eyes many times, read his worries, felt his love. These are the eyes you know most intimately, deeply– and as your own eyes dart between them, you see him as genuinely as you ever will.

You see fear, of course– it’s what’s driven him here, it’s as much as he said when you faced Petras. He wants a way to keep himself and you safe. But beyond that you see a ravenous hunger, more than any thirst for blood or craving for gold. That hunger, born of blood, of power, of freedom, is clouding everything else. It’s up to you to dissipate those clouds.

“I know you think this will set you free,” you start, delivering each word deliberately. “But it won’t. It will only trap you. Just like it trapped Cazador.” As if to prove your point, you turn to the pathetic mess of a man on the floor.

Some vampire lord he is now, groveling in front of Astarion, realizing that his poisoned words have done nothing to change his “favorite” spawn’s mind. His body has already been beaten, his face bloodied, his elegant clothing torn to shreds. And his utterly pitiful, earthly appearance says more than words ever could.

Astarion looks down upon his former master, considering your words. You see his eyes glint with steel as he turns back to you, and you hold your breath as you wait for his response.

“You… you’re right. I can be better than him,” he says, and your heart clenches in sheer relief. Turning back to Cazador with his signature wicked smirk, he continues, “But I'm not above enjoying this.”

You watch as your friend, your companion, your lover repeatedly drives Cazador’s own twisted blade against him. Each stab is punctuated by a wrenching, guttural cry, Astarion’s face contorted with a rage even the hells would fear. Cazador’s body grows limp, and Astarion continues to stab. You lose count of how many expertly executed stabs he delivers, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. You need to watch, to witness his blood-stained hands grant his own deliverance.

Releasing one final world-rending scream, he pulls the blade out, stumbling back. You know he’s done, in every sense of the word. Head turned up to the heavens, to the very gods who have never heard his pleas, he cries out– a heart-wrenching scream, mixed with a heavy sob– before his body collapses to the ground.

Your body instinctively moves toward him, your heart screaming to help him, to hold him, to be there for him. But a warm hand clamps on your shoulder and you look back. Karlach’s fiery yellow eyes lock with yours and she silently shakes her head at you. No, soldier, her eyes say. He needs this.

And despite your heart’s protestations, despite your eyes welling with burning hot tears, your head agrees. So you wait.

Astarion’s body trembles, a slow heaving wracking his frame. Sobs build up and burst out in a series of cries, each more painful than the last. Tears stream down your own face as you feel his visceral pain, but you stay back. And even as his cries petter out, you don’t step forward. It’s not your moment to have, there will be time for you to hold him, to cry with him, but not now.

Before that moment can arrive, the spawn around you are released from their magic bindings, Cazador’s hold on them finally worn off. Despite their predicament, they seem no worse for wear. Sweaty, tired, half-naked, but whole. Above all else, they seem… confused. They’re almost too scared to approach the hunched, blood-soaked man kneeling before their former master, but Dal takes the initiative.

“Is… is it over?” she asks, tentatively. “Is he…?”

Astarion takes a few shuddering breaths before collecting himself, rising to his feet slowly. “Yes,” he says, voice thick with lingering tears. “He’s gone.”

Petras looks about with uncertainty. For the first time in decades, he’s expected to think for himself and it’s clearly going to be an adjustment. Concerned, he asks, “What does that mean for us?”

You stand there, watching your lover. So many emotions run through you that you can’t even catch them all. Sorrow, concern, but most of all: Pride. He’s free now, to do whatever he wants, to be whomever he wants. And as his siblings look to him for leadership, he faces them head-on. A lump forms in your throat as you wait for his answer. 

“It means you have a choice,” he says, staring at Petras squarely. “You can hide here, living in the shadows like parasites. Or you can be more than what he made us to be.” Astarion’s voice lightens at the end, his preference clear in his tone. His entire demeanor shifts back to his usual, poised self and he stands a bit straighter, as if he’s making the decision for himself as he speaks. “You can choose differently, of course. But the consequences are on your head.”

Dal looks beyond him, up to the cells where the rest of the spawn sit trapped. “And… what does it mean for them?”

“Ah, now that is a question,” Astarion says, looking down at Cazador’s winding, red staff. He contemplates openly, and you know it’s alright to provide another small push.

“Let’s release them,” you say, clearing your throat a bit as you swallow your last tears. “They deserve the same chance you got.”

“You’re right,” he says, with a nod. Another wave of relief washes over you, as he doesn’t even hesitate to agree this time. “The poor wretches in the cells are innocent. They shouldn’t have to suffer just because I… lured them here.” You merely nod back– you wish you could say that his actions weren’t his own, that he needn’t feel the guilt any more, but you know that’s beyond this moment. That he will need to sit with the events of the day for a while, and that you shall sit there with him as long as he needs.

Astarion grabs Cazador’s staff, inspecting it for a moment before striking it into the ground in one powerful movement. A red, pulsing light emanates from it, filling the room with an eerie glow before you all hear the loud ka-thunk of the cell doors releasing their prisoners. 

You all turn in unison to look, before Astarion speaks to his siblings, “They’ll need someone to lead them. Take the tunnels into the Underdark, find somewhere… well, not safe. But less perilous?”

“What? No, we can’t–” Petras protests immediately.

Astarion raises a bloody hand to stop him. “Just try to keep them out of trouble.”

Dalyria, taking charge in the face of her sibling’s flustered looks, nods and ushers the rest of the spawn toward the cells, the 7,000 newly-released waiting for them. You watch them leave in a solemn silence.

After they’ve climbed the stairs and carried on, leaving your field of vision, Astarion turns back to your small party. “I… I think we’re done here.” he says, setting his face into a hard expression. “Let’s go.”

Your group turns away, allowing Astarion a moment of privacy to put his armor back on, to wipe some of the blood off his hands, to collect himself. 

As he rejoins your party, your companions perk up, sensing their opportunity to provide their support. Karlach claps him on the back softly, looking at him with pure admiration on her face. “Good work, Astarion.” 

He shies away from her, a bit of embarrassment coloring the tips of his ears. “Thank you, I suppose.”

Shadowheart nods to him in approval. “You did the right thing, Astarion. Some sacrifices aren’t worth it,” she says. Her own silver hair is a testament to her words.

Astarion, knowing her place of understanding, nods back wordlessly. It’s the most they will get from him for now, and they set off to lead your path out of this decrepit place.

As you begin to walk, you turn to your lover, still wanting to offer him a modicum of comfort, to embrace him and tell him it will all be alright. But his expression is vacant. When you nudge him gently he only says, “That’s it. He’s… he’s gone.”

You remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“After all these years– these centuries– it’s really over.” The awe in his voice is unmistakable. But more so, the uncertainty, similar to Petras’ own, has settled in. Now that he's back, safe with you and your group, his vulnerability is peaking through.

“How do you feel?” you ask, broaching the subject that’s been worrying you the most.

“I’m… I’m not sure,” he says, honestly. “I feel a little numb.”

An entirely reasonable reaction, albeit not one that you can fix. But you don’t need to fix it, just listen for now. You nod, encouraging him to continue.

“What I’ve lost,” he sounds wistful, but looks sideways at you with a small smile. “What I’ve gained. It’s all so much.”

You smile at him, appreciating that even in this moment, he sees you, he weighs you against all that he’s lost and he smiles. “It’s a lot to take in,” you agree. “Even under the best of circumstances.”

“And gods. All those spawn. Free in the Underdark,” he breathes out and looks ahead at where those spawn are inevitably fleeing Cazador’s lair. “I need some time, I think. Just to let it all sink in.”

As much as you want to hold him, to tell him how proud you are of him, to crush him under your weight for days on end just to make sure he’s here, he’s safe, he’s still himself– you know it still isn’t the right moment. So you just say, “Take all of the time that you need, my love. I’ll be here, you know I will.”

Looking into his eyes, you see the weary gaze of a man whose entire existence was just up-ended. His eyes are still rimmed with red from his tears, and you see more moisture gathering as he turns away. “L-let’s just go.” He continues walking forward, picking up his pace. “This place reeks of death and I want to feel alive again.”

With nothing left to say, you follow him and your companions up and out of the yawning pit of Cazador’s dungeons.

The entire walk, Astarion’s shoulders remain tense, his face guarded and closed off from the world, from you. It’s still not time, you think. 

Before you make your escape, you encounter the Gur once more. You talk to them as you reach the rising platform, and, while he vehemently defends his choices, Astarion still seems so very reserved. In the back of your head, you can’t help but feel like you haven’t done enough. That perhaps the time was right at some point, but you missed your moment to comfort him, to be there for him. Either way, it’s not right now.

You all pile on to the elevator, leaving the bloody mess of Cazador, of Vellioth before him, to be swallowed by the earth. Walking through the mansion’s halls, Astarion remains quiet. You periodically check to make sure he’s still there, but of course he is– he makes his own choices now and he wants to be here. He’s just deeply in thought, beyond you for now. You must wait for him.

The group passes barren walls, each of Cazador’s tacky paintings stolen hours ago– by a much cheerier band of adventurers, you can’t help but think. But you wouldn’t trade places with your past selves for anything, because this group is still together, still has their souls intact. This group will get through this and live to steal many, many more paintings from evil wretches like Cazador. 

After following your own path back to the entrance, you can sense Astarion’s unease building, his body fighting an unseen battle. Turning to look at him, you see that he’s not looking back, not looking forward, rather staring down at the ground ahead of him. 

You hang back, wondering what’s the matter but, before you can ask, he offers, “I hate this place. So why does it feel like my feet are made of lead?”

A hard heartbeat pounds your chest. You don’t know how to respond, or if it’s even your place to do that. Instead you pose a question back, “Do you want me to stay behind with you for a moment?”

He shakes his head harshly. “No,” the word comes out softly, despite the grimace on his face. “I’m just… frustrated. He’s gone, but it’s like I still feel his claws on me.”

Karlach and Shadowheart pause ahead, at the door you entered through on the battlements. “Soldier?” Karlach calls, raising a single eyebrow at you. One of her hands is placed on the doorknob, a simple turn away from the outdoors. 

Ah, that might help, you think. “Could you open the door? It’s rather dark in here, it would be nice to illuminate a path for Astarion.”

The large tiefling woman complies with a grunt, swinging the door open at a brutal force. If you weren’t so focused on Astarion’s face, you might have laughed at her eager show of help. As it is, your eyes are trained on the vampire’s face, reading each line carefully as the door opens. 

Daylight streams in, cutting through the musty halls of Szarr Palace, illuminating the dancing dust particles in the air. Astarion’s head cranes up, away from the ancient carpet he’d been fixated on a moment before. Like he’s been jolted from an uncomfortable slumber, he shakes his stupor off, placing one foot in front of another until he’s crossed the threshold of the place he’d perversely called home for two centuries. 

Something about the way he stands strong, the way his chest puffs out, reignites the pride that wells within you. You follow behind him closely, as if you might protect him from the darkness he’s leaving behind. 

It’s when he’s well and truly in the sunlight outside that you see the markings of the day on him, in blood smeared across his face, the tired creases of his eyes. Infiltrating the palace, finding the 7,000 spawn, facing his tormentor– all of it catches up to him now that he’s left the cold grip of Cazador’s clutches. 

Astarion’s shoulders slump, his eyes close, and his head tilts up to the warmth of the sun, as he takes a deep inhale of the fresh air. Like a cat basking in the glorious remnants of daylight through a window, he looks to remain until there’s not even a sliver of light left.

You turn to Karlach and Shadowheart, who are looking on with unsure expressions. Waving a hand out at them, you signal that you’ll meet them downstairs. They slip away wordlessly, leaving you and Astarion alone, perched atop of the battlements of Baldur’s Gate.

No words pass between you when he finally opens his eyes. They’re even more crimson in the sunlight, and the emotions swimming in them are inscrutable. One thing is for certain though, now is your chance to hold him, to comfort him.

You hold your arms out to him, an open invitation. Astarion looks at them then looks up at you, eyes brimming with fresh new tears. He shuts his eyes closed once more, hot streaks silently running down his face, and steps into your welcoming embrace. Warmth, release, relief– his feelings are your own, as you hold each other. And so, feeling the weight of the decisions you’ve made that day, in the very sunlight he’s given up, you cry in each other's arms.

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Shane Walsh × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury and blood

Chapter: 2.05

You smile at Carol as she hangs up clothes on the washing line she set up next to the tents the rest of your group were sleeping in, only a short walk from the Greene’s farmhouse. Earlier that day, you’d offered to help her prepare dinner for Hershel and his family, but Carol insisted you didn’t need to help since your hands were full with a newborn. Although her intentions were good, it still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Neither Rick or Shane would allow you to help search for Sophia, and none of the other women wanted your help with any household chores. You felt useless.

Scanning the area for Shane, you finally spot him leaning over the hood of a car, scowling as he circles different areas still to be searched. He had left the bedroom before you awoke to get an early start. Sensing someone walking behind him, Shane looks up, his facial expression softening, and says, “Morning, darling, how’s our little guy today?”

“He’s been babbling away all morning.” You place your hand on his lower back and say, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

He nods.

In spite of his dishonesty about what happened with Otis at the school, Shane was the only person you could confide in without feeling as if you were crossing a line. “There aren't a lot of walkers around here.”

“That’s not a question,” he laughs.

Rolling your eyes, you continue, “I think I’ve seen maybe two or three walkers since we’ve been here, and Hershel and his family don’t seem like the type of people to put a walker down. What do you think is happening to them?”

Shane Rubs at his jaw, thinking over what you just said. “You’re worried about the lack of walkers?”

“No, I just don’t understand why there are so few. It’s as if the dead cross this invisible line and just disappear.”

“Do you think we should trust them?” He asks, looking over at the farmhouse.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “They are good people; they saved Carl; they let us stay on their land; they let us into their home. The Greenes are kind people. But regardless, I am worried a horde of walkers is about to crash those fences at any minute.”

“Maybe they are getting picked off one by one before they reach the fences. But if not, it’s still not something you need to worry about.”

His comment irritates you; why the hell wouldn’t it be something you need to worry about? You frown. “Why wouldn’t I worry about it?”

“Because I’m here to protect you, aren’t I?” He snaps.

You didn’t understand why your question had gotten him riled up, “Shane?”

“Keeping you and Jace safe is the only thing I care about. If a horde comes crashing through the farm, then we go; we’re not risking our lives or our sons lives to save anyone else.”

“You don’t mean that.”

He scoffs, “Trust me, I do.”

“What about Carl and Rick?”

“Rick can look after himself.”

“We’ve been over this before; I’m never leaving my brother or nephew behind. And after all we’ve been through, I wouldn’t leave anyone else behind either, not when they have risked their lives to keep me and Jace alive.”

“That’s just your baby brain and hormones talking. If you were thinking logically, and in survival mode, you’d think differently.”

You open your mouth to argue but stop when T-dog and Andrea walk by. You fake a smile and wave to them, all while giving Shane a knowing look. When they are out of earshot, you quietly ask, “You know what scares me more than the dead?”

He lets out a deep sigh. “What?”

“Losing my humanity That’s the only thing that keeps us separate from the dead.” Knowing the conversation wasn’t going to change, you walked away before either of you could say anything else. It scared you that after all this time, Shane still didn’t know you well enough to understand that you’d never leave your brother or nephew behind.

—

“I told him, alive or not, Sophia only matters to the degree in which she doesn’t drag the rest of us down.”

Sighing, you listen to Shane as he rambles on about his ‘long talk’ with your brother while they searched in the woods. Rick had already told you how Shane wanted to stop searching for Sophia. You could see both men’s points, but we’re refusing to get in the middle of them. If it was Jace, you’d never stop looking.

“It’s a heavy burden for Rick to make that call; just give him time.”

As Shane continues to ramble on about Rick not stepping up from his space on the bed, you ignore him, only focusing on trying to get your son to calm down. His scrunched-up face was bright red from screaming and crying so much, and nothing you tried seemed to calm him down. It was moments like this that you were even more thankful the Greenes let you stay inside their farm house because outside, any walkers lurking in the area would be attracted by the crying.

“Give him to me.”

“What?” Shane walks towards you with his arms outstretched, willing to take Jace into his arms, but you’re reluctant to hand him over. Maybe Shane’s comment early in the day really pissed you off, or you took solace in being able to comfort Jace.

“Give him to me,” Shane repeats, his tone softer.

Hesitantly, you hand him over, but smile when Jace momentarily stops crying to stare up at his father curiously before the crying starts again. Poor boy. You wished you could take whatever was bothering him away.

Shane sits on the edge of the bed, rocking Jace gently. “Why are you still standing by the window? Are you waiting on something?”

“Everyone has come back except Daryl.”

“So? He can take care of himself.”

Shane's lack of concern for others was really starting to become a concern. The same question kept gnawing at the back of your mind: how king will it be until Shane starts to turn on your small group?

—

As you approach the RV, you overhear Glenn asking Dale a question that makes you cringe on the inside and outside.

“Uh, Dale, do you think Andrea’s on her period? I’m only asking because it’s like all the women are acting really weird. And I read somewhere that when women spend a lot of time together, their cycles line up and they all get super crazy hormonal at the same time.”

“I’m going to advise you to keep that theory to yourself,” the older man says.

You swing the door open and say, “Yes, keep it to yourself. The next man who mentions the word hormonal to me will meet a grisly end.” You put a small plastic bag full of clothes, blankets, and towels that needed repairs on the table with your free hand before sitting down. “Now, who else is acting crazy?”

Glenn looks slightly sheepish as he sits down across from you, “Maggie.”

“Ahh, Maggie,” Dale smiles.

It was obvious to everyone that Glenn had developed a crush on the brunette. When Jace starts to gurgle, Glenn gives you a look and holds his arms out, silently offering to take Jace from you. Without thinking, you remove Jace from the makeshift sling and gently lay him in the man’s arms so it’s easier for you to start sowing. It gives you pause when you realize that you’re more comfortable with someone else holding Jace than his own father.

“So what did the lovely Maggie do that was weird?” You ask, continuing the conversation.

“She started off being mean to me, then she wanted to have sex with me, and now she’s being mean to me again. And I don’t even want to know what’s going on with Lori.”

Guilt you suspected.

Dale's brows raise. “What’s going on with Lori?”

“Nothing be. I don’t know.”

You had a suspicion. Glenn knew more than he was letting on, but you decided not to press him on it and changed the subject. You weren’t one for gossiping, but you needed the distraction. “How did you know Maggie wanted to have sex with you? Did she tell you?”

Glenn smirks at the question, alluding to the fact that they have already done the deed. You snort, “I hope you used condoms.”

“This isn’t funny,” Dale says in a serious tone. “Did it ever occur to you how her father might feel about this?”

“She’s twenty-two,” Glenn says.

Although he had made a good point and Maggie was an adult, you get the impression that not much happened on the farm without Hershel’s permission. Not wanting to hear anymore lectures from Dale, Glenn gets up and quickly steps out of the RV, with you hot on his tail. “Uh, excuse me, Glenn, my baby?”

“Oh, I wasn’t going far, just sitting outside,” he says, pointing to the swing chair right outside the RV. “I wasn’t going to kidnap him, I swear.”

“I know, I just like to see him at all times,” you smile. “I’ll just grab the sewing kit, then join—”

Andrea cuts you off, yelling, “Walker, walker!”

Glenn hands you Jace before rubbing his hands to grab a weapon. Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Glenn all rush out to the field the walker is walking through with silent weapons. It worries you to see Shane still limping and struggling to keep up with the other men. Hearing the click of a gun, you look up at the roof of the RV to see Andrea aiming her rifle. “Don’t! You could miss the shot and kill someone.”

“Back off, Lily.”

You grabbed a pair of binoculars to see what was going on, because from a distance, it looked as if everyone had stopped running. When you're able to see clearly, you make out the walker is a living, breathing person. “False alarm—”

You jump upon hearing a loud bang, and surpassingly, Jace didn’t seem startled by the loud noise. You glared up at the blonde. Andrea had taken her shot. She was pleased with herself until your brother started to scream.

“You’ve hit someone!” You hand Jace to Dale and take off in the direction the group is in the field. When you get closer, you make out the shape of a body on the ground. You're relieved to see it’s not your brother or fiancé but scared to find out who was possibly dead. You stopped running to catch your breath just as you reached them and saw blood coming from the side of Daryl’s head. “Oh my god, is he alive?”

When Rick and Shane pull Daryl to his feet, he mumbles, “I was kidding.”

You stand in front of Daryl just as he passes out from shock, brushing his hair to the side and saying, “I think it’s grazed the side of his head.” Your eyes travel down, and you notice he’s wearing a necklace of Walker ears. You rip it from his neck, tossing it to the side. “Nobody saw that.”

“Guys, isn’t this Sophia’s?” T-dog asks, holding up a doll.

Shit. Sophia leaving the doll that she clung to behind wasn’t good.

—

“Are you going to do something about Rick and Shane?”

You turn from the sink to look at Lori. “What makes you think I can do anything? They always butt heads. Falling out, then making up. They are worse than teenage girls.”

“This is different from all the other times.”

Looking over your shoulder, you smile at Patrice as he finishes wiping down the extra table they brought from another restaurant so everyone could eat in the dining room since there were too many to sit around the main dining table. The meal Carol cooked was delicious with fresh vegetables that had been grown on the farm, but with tensions within the group, the atmosphere during dinner was uncomfortable. Since you had to excuse yourself to feed Jace, you missed most of the group meal, only coming back down to the kitchen to help clear up.

“They are both stubborn and headstrong, and neither of them will change their minds,” you whisper. “As of now, the search for Sophia is still happening, so there is no need to make this a big deal.”

Lori asks, “How’s Shane coping with fatherhood? I remember how freaked out Rick was when I was pregnant. God, I can only imagine how Shane would have been finding out before the world went to shit.”

You shoot her a look. Hearing Lori say his name sets something up inside you. You had been trying your best to keep what happened in the past, but you're only human, and your pushed-back emotions were starting to bubble over at the surface. “I’m civil for the sake of Rick, Carl, and everyone else, but don’t push it by asking about Shane.”

“Understood.”

You feel guilty seeing her become teary-eyed before walking away, but it was hard enough without being reminded daily of what happened between them.

—

You pushed the door to the bedroom Daryl’s in as quietly as you could, in case he was sleeping. It was late, and everyone else had called it a night. Once you settled Jace down, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease and put it down to worrying about the recently injured members of your group.

“What the hell are you still doing?”

The bluntness makes you chuckle, and you use the sleeve of your jumper to stifle the sound. “I just wanted to check on you. You know, since you almost died and all.”

“Oh, that. I almost forgot until you mentioned it.”

He shuffles over so you can sit on the edge of the bed. Dark circles hung under his eyes; poorly washed-off dirt and blood covered most of Daryl’s face. It was admirable how invested he was in searching for the little girl. “Whatever happens, Carol will never forget how much you’ve done for her daughter.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’m just doing the same as what Rick and Shane are doing.”

“It takes a brave man to do what you did.”

Daryl looks away from you, grunting, facing the wall. He didn’t like hearing kind things said about himself. You lean down to kiss him on the cheek, and at the same time, Daryl rolls back around, causing your lips to lightly brush together. Clearing your throat, you sit upright again and notice how flushed his face has become. Bypassing the awkwardness, you sigh, “You’re a good man, Daryl Dixon, even if you don’t want to believe it.”

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 2

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe's never had too much trouble adapting.

Warnings: NONE HERE.

I'm very sorry this took 3 MONTHS to post... a lot has happened. Hopefully the future will have faster updates. Also, this part is pretty short and I don't really like it, but I I'm reminding myself that it's all just building up. Until next time!

It’s noon when I’m buzzed up to the apartment. Love caught you up on the last minute changes. Still, you open the door with hesitancy and step back without once looking me in the eye. I peel my boots off, taking my time to really look around the living room. There’s nothing of interest here anymore, now knowing this isn’t your place and these aren’t your things. When I make my way to the corner table by the couch, I pick up a frame. Another picture without you in it.

“She had a lot of friends,” You sniff. I turn to look at you. “Left almost everything to them, actually.”

“What a great mom…” I comment and set the picture back in place. “What did she leave you?”

You look around the apartment, gesturing about. I look too, but nothing else catches my eye. Where are your things?

“Garbage.” You respond. You rub your nose then, when I don’t respond, and sniff again. You still don’t meet my eyes.

“This apartment, too?” I inquire, but you shake your head.

“In a way… she left me with the bill. I can’t afford a place in LA on my own, and It’s costing me money I don’t have for this place to sit unoccupied. So, I’m clearing it for new tenants before the month’s over.”

I rub the back of my neck. Your mom sounds like a bitch, but I’d like to stay focused and get the real job here out of the way. “Should we get started?”

“Yeah, uh… First things first,” You start, pointing behind you toward the kitchen. “We have to throw everything edible in the cupboards out.”

“Everything?”

“Everything. It all has to go. I already cleared the fridge this morning.”

You walk around the kitchen island, bend down to pull out a drawer, and come back to the surface with a few plastic garbage bags. I take one, and we begin.

The cupboards themselves seem to be in good condition, until I pulled one open and the knob comes right off. We laughed. You reassured me it had happened to you too, and that you simply pushed it back into place. After throwing the few cereal boxes left inside into my garbage bag, I did the same. The inside of these cupboards are dusty, and the small black pellets left behind look more like mouse shit than they do crumbs. I’ll have to tell Love I was right about the rodents.

I reach over and take a metal tin. Something jostles inside as I bring it to my ear. You peer over from your corner and jump.

“Not that,” you say as you reach over to take the tin out of my hands. “Love made those.”

“And your mom’s been keeping them in her cupboard?”

“No, of course not,” You roll your eyes and start prying it open. “Love gave them to me the other day. They're homemade cookies.”

When the cover comes off, I see six golden cookies spread out. They look good.

I look up at you, wondering.

“You can take one, I don’t mind.” You say.

I reach in and take a cookie, bringing it between my teeth not a moment sooner. I bite.

The flavour is sweet and tangy. Lemon, I recognised it quickly… You can really taste Love in them. But, I can’t help but sulk a little; she doesn’t make me cookies, I think sourly.

“Good, right?” you ask, taking one for yourself before shutting the tin. You split a piece off and pop it into your mouth. I watch the action, chewing away at my bite. I feel cold. Upset. I’m growing bitter at the thought of Love making treats specially for you. I’m jealous, I know. Jealousy and I know each other remarkably well.

Once the cupboards are empty of the numerous snack boxes your mom seemed to endlessly collect, we tie the garbage bags and bring them to the front door.

We spend the rest of the afternoon wiping the surfaces clean, scrubbing the tiles, and making sure anyone could feasibly lick spilt milk off the fucking floors.

As you scrub away at the floors with a brush, I wipe down the inside of the cupboards – rat shit and all. We’ve engaged in small talk throughout – mostly on the subject of your family life since the split. You lived with your dad up until recently. He never remarried.

“How’s Love?” You suddenly ask me. You hadn’t seen her since the dinner… probably the longest you’d gone since the ten years before. I groan, but you don't hear it.

“She’s been good,” I say. “She’s out of town with Forty today.”

“And… you?”

“What about me?” I smile, looking down as you pause your scrubbing. You don’t look up at me as you spray tile cleaner down.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, I’ve just been helping you tidy the place up.”

I watch you smile at that.

“And I appreciate it,” You huff, grabbing a rag to wipe the suds. You look up at me then, and I watch as your eyes shy away the moment you notice me staring.

“I think I’m done with the cupboards.” I state.

“Right,” You acknowledge. “I’m just finishing up here and I think we can call it a day.”

By the time we’re done, two full garbage bags have been tossed in the communal bin outside. The kitchen’s done, clean, as pristine as any of LA’s cheapest apartments can get. I stretch my back as I check my phone. Already 4 o’clock.

“Hey, Will?” You ask as I crack my knuckles and make my way to the front door. “Do you have somewhere you need to be right now?” I turn to look at you. Your lips are tucked in, eyes curious.

“I don’t have to be anywhere in particular, no.” I answer, crouching to slide on my boots. “Why?”

“I was thinking of treating you to lunch.” You say, chewing on your lip as you tear your eyes away. “To thank you for helping out. Would you be okay with that?”

I’m surprised as I tie up my laces unsteadily. “Yeah, sure. I don’t think I’d mind that – Isn’t it already 4 pm?” You could almost make me blush.

“A late lunch, then. Calling it dinner just sounds like a date.” You say, laughing your comment off with a wave. I nod slowly, thinking. Just a treat… and I have nothing waiting for me at home.

“Sure, sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect, let me grab my purse.”

—

We’re seated in the far back of a dingy diner. The waitress sets down two glasses of water before leaving us alone with the menu. You drop your familiar jingling bag right by your side in the booth and lift the glass to your lips. Your hands set it down a moment later, my eyes continue to linger on them while you talk.

“So, how did you and Love meet?”

“Anavrin, can you believe it?” I say playfully.

“Really?” You respond with surprise as you lift your arm, drop your elbow on the table, and rest your chin on your palm. “How did that go?”

If I said I followed her around for a while, got a job where she worked, and she still made a move on me first, would you believe me? I think I’ll just skip to the good part.

“Okay, so… She picks up this peach, and–” Before I can finish, you put your hand out to stop me.

“Wait, let me guess…” You hold off for a few seconds and raise your brows. “She said it looked like a butt?”

“Actually, she asked me if it looked like a butt.” I reply snarkily and you roll your eyes.

“Same difference.” You say as you wave me off.

“Oh no…” I feign a ground-breaking realisation, my gestures playful as I can’t help but smile. “Don’t tell me I fell for an overly used pick-up line…”

“Ah, I really couldn’t tell you how often she used it, if at all,” You take a deep breath before continuing with a smile. “but I remember we had an ongoing joke like that – about peaches and butts.”

“I guess you’ve left an impact.”

“I guess so.” You look around, suddenly sheepish as you take a sip of your water, again. You change the subject. “Know of any good bookstores around here? I’ve been gone for so long that any of the places I can recall have been bought out and replaced.”

“Well, there’s Anavrin. Where I work. With books.” We both crack a smile again and you nearly laugh in my face. I raise my brows and slowly nod my head to really hammer in that I wasn’t kidding.

“Right. I’m not looking for vegan cookbooks or autobiographies.” Cute, you’re trying to be funny.

“Oh, come on!” I grip my chest and feigned a painful jab to my heart. “I’m sure I can get you the book you’re looking for. If it isn’t in stock, I can order some copies.”

“You’d do that for me?” You tilt your head in such a curious way and I feel myself getting warm under my shirt.

“Of course! So, what’re you looking for?”

“I – Nothing yet… I’ll let you know. I’m working on a project.”

“Ooh – If you don’t mind me asking, what’s this project for?”

“Hmm… mostly myself. I don’t have a job so I spend my hours reading and writing.”

“You can make a career out of writing.” I assure you.

“But then it wouldn’t be fun! The moment I have a deadline, I don’t want to work anymore.” You pout.

“I take it you have money set aside?”

“Yes – kind of. I had money set aside, but…” You look away, clicking your tongue as you think. Your lips part for a moment, as though you were ready to say something, but you hesitate. “Yeah. Just a bit.”

“I don’t mean to pry, and – and you can just tell me you don’t want to answer anything – were you close with your mom? Before everything, I mean.”

“No,” You laugh while lacking the joke. “She never liked me. I think she just never wanted kids. Maybe she felt threatened by having a daughter. And, actually, as a testament of her hatred, she left me with nothing but the overpriced apartment.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I frown.

“Oh, trust me when I say you’re already doing more than enough. I’ll be out of there sooner than later, and I won’t have to worry about payments weighing me down.”

You lift your arm and your hand falls to the single laminated menu between us. You look through it slowly. I watch you, and I feel pity.

“You said you like writing,” I begin, opting to change the subject.

“Correct.” You reply robotically before looking up at me.

“Have you ever thought about publishing any of your work?”

“Maybe one day. It’s never been a priority of mine, but I’ve thought about it before.”

“Do you have anything I could read so far? Might be able to give some pointers, advice… you name it.”

“Of course! But – but I’d prefer to read it over again beforehand. I have a strange process; it may not even be comprehensible in its current state.” You laugh and I can’t help but chuckle along.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh ease up on it! I can see why Love likes you so much,” You say. “You’re very supportive.”

I smile at the comment, feeling content. You’re not so bad yourself.

“Know what you’re getting?” I suddenly ask, bringing both of our attention back to the menu. You bounce and look down.

“I was thinking about a club sandwich,” you say, “What about you?”

“I mean, I haven’t looked at the menu yet.” I laugh and realization hits you. The menu is spun to face me as your finger hits the page.

“This is what I’m getting – the club sandwich,” Your finger slides down to the selection below it. “They also have a BLT option,” and below that, “mac and cheese, corn dogs…” and as you continue to talk, my mind begins to blank. My eyes dawdle on the movement of your hands, following where they had been on the sheet as your words drift off into nothing, but your voice remains. I’m thinking about the softness of the way you’re speaking to me, serenely, and I’m entranced by the sound.

“Do you know what you’d like?” I’m snapped out of my daze, my thoughts. My eyes shoot up to look at you and you tilt your head with the question still fresh in the air. I blink.

I… like……

I look back down and point at something simple. Quite frankly, the options at local diners tend to be, for a lack of a better term, just as expected.

“Fries?” You ask and I blink a few more times. I wasn’t really thinking, actually.

“Yeah, I mean. What a great lunch, right?” You laugh and ask me again, but I reassure you a plate of fries is just fine.

When the waitress makes her rounds, we place our orders. She refills our waters and we meld back into simple conversation.

As we spend the next few hours talking, even when our food arrives. I watch you pick at your plate. You’re slow to eat because you talk so much. You’re opening up like never before, and I’m slipping into a familiar feeling I hadn’t expected. When you finish your fries, you ask. “Can I pick off your plate?” and I let you because you gave me half of your sandwich to try. I watch the way my fries slip past your lips and, when you swallow, I watch that too. I swallow too, too.

I need to fuck Love.

—

“Hey, Will,” you inquire on our walk back to the apartment. The chit chat was nice, even if the lunch was unappetizing. Fries alone don’t sate much. “Would you be able to stop by tomorrow? To help a bit more?”

“Well,” I laugh. “I work tomorrow,”

“Right,” You close your eyes and tuck your lip, nodding. “I just–”

“I can come over on my next day off, if you really need the extra set of hands.”

“That would be really helpful,” You sigh contently, shoulders dropping. “Thank you.”

“How does Tuesday sound? You think you’d be free then?”

“Oh, I’m free,” You assure me. “I don’t have much else to do in the city.”

Your phone rings – the sound like the chime of a bell – and you fish it out of your purse to answer it.

“It’s Love,” You tell me as you accept the call and put it to your ear. We stop our promenade and you turn away, no doubt to feel like you have a crumb of privacy.

“Hey, Lovey,” You sigh. I can practically hear the smile on your lips as you step around distractedly. I rub my nose and watch you. I can’t hear Love from this distance.

“Actually, I – I already ate,” You laugh, pushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear as you turn around. You’re watching your shoes as you languidly pace, suddenly unaware of the world moving around you as you listen to the call. I take hold of your forearm and pull you to the side when someone walks by. You’re a little surprised at first, but nod at me appreciatively. I can hear Love from here, beside you, tucked closer to the buildings and out of the way of passersby.

‘With Will?’ I hear Love say.

“Yeah, with Will. It was a, uh… a thank you for helping out. He didn’t have to, you know? So…”

‘See! He’s not so bad,’ When you glance up at me, I move to look around, observing the sidewalk across the street. I can’t help a smile from creeping up.

“You’re right,” You huff. “But, um… We’ll talk again later, okay? Will and I are still walking back to the apartment.”

’Sure thing, babe,’ I bite the inside of my cheek, but my smile doesn’t falter. ‘Lunch tomorrow?’

“Yeah, tomorrow. Hope things went well with Forty today,”

When you hang up, I turn my head to look at you. You look forward, defeated.

“Good?” I ask.

“Yeah, good.” You reply, already continuing our path back to the apartment. I follow while you lead ahead.

“I’m not so bad, eh?” I throw in, and you glance behind to roll your eyes at me. I laugh and catch up to you, nudging your shoulder. You huff and finally laugh along too.

"Not so bad at all," You shake your head and huff.

We part ways in front of the building, exchanging lazy waves as you hop up the steps.

"See you on Tuesday," I say.

I watch you the way I had that other night, clumsily twisting your key, pushing on the door too soon. When the door's unlocked and finally opens, you turn to look at me one last time, waving again.

"Tuesday!" You confirm, slipping through the crack.

I turn away, making my way back to my car.

[pimosworld]

Por la mañana

Pairing-Santiago Garcia x f!reader

  Summary-  A drunken love confession leads to a fun morning for you and Santi. 

  CW- 18+ MDNI Fluff,angst, dry humping,mentions of sex,mentions of heavy alcohol consumption

  Word count-2.3k

  A/N-tf boys and reader are friends.Written in reader and Santi’s pov (friends to lovers). I was gonna write this in one go but decided to split it up. No smut in this chapter.

Not beta read

part 1,part 2

Your head is leaning against the window in the backseat of Frankie’s truck. You can’t help that pleasant floating feeling as the alcohol buzzes through your veins. You're listening to the soft tunes on the radio as you watch the street lights go by. 

 

Sweet wonderful you

You make me happy with the things you do

Oh, can it be so

This feeling follows me wherever I go

  I never did believe in miracles

But I've a feeling it's time to try

I never did believe in the ways of magic

But I'm beginning to wonder why

  I never did believe in miracles

But I've a feeling it's time to try

I never did believe in the ways of magic

But I'm beginning to wonder why

  Don't, don't break the spell

It would be different and you know it will

You, you make loving fun

And I don't have to tell you but you're the only one.

  You’re only slightly comfortable as you're reminded of the heavy body that is Benny leaning against you desperately trying to get comfortable. 

  “Frankie.” You gently whisper to not disturb Benny. “I think I won.” Frankie glances in the rear view to see Benny sprawled out between you and Santi. 

  Santi had placed bets on who would pass out first due to the drinking game he goaded the two of you into at the bar. 

  He chuckles to himself “Good job hermosa, he owes you groceries for a week.” 

  “M’still awake.” Benny slurs against your collar bone. 

  “Oh good since you’re still awake can you get your big body off me.” You huff and shove him into Santi seated on the other side. 

  “The children are fighting.” Santi leans in between Frankie and Will in the front seat. 

  You know he’s only kidding, you and Benny aren’t that much younger than the rest but they love to tease. You met Benny your freshman year of highschool,you two were inseparable until he went to the army. The day he left was the worst day of your young life. Over the years you grew closer with his brothers in delta force and now this was your second family. 

  “We are not children!” You both chime in at once,

Ben looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes and you both burst into a fit of laughter. 

  “Hermosà I’m taking you to Santi’s, I don’t want you by yourself tonight.”

  You shoot Frankie a knowing glance in the rear view mirror. You may have let it slip to him a few weeks prior that you’ve been harboring a crush on Santiago for quite some time. He said that was good news but didn’t divulge any further information. You’ve been spiraling for weeks wondering what that meant. 

  You knew Santi was a flirt so you never thought anything of it when he would compliment your clothes or your hair, he would practically eye fuck you when you wore a sundress. Still you never thought anything of it, he was your best friend and nothing more. That was until he started picking you up for your casual drinks with the guys, saving you a seat next to him for your weekly movie night, letting you spend the night when you’d had too much to drink or been too tired to go home. 

  Maybe the guys didn’t notice but you had when he stopped taking random women home from the bar,or the last barbecue at Wills when his date left halfway through because he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Maybe you were reading too much into it, he’s never made a move past innocent flirting.

  “Sleepover at Santi’s!” You’re pulled from your thoughts as Benny bellows in your ear. Will turns in the front seat so he’s fully facing Benny. “As much as I would love to not deal with you tonight,you are not sleeping at Pope's house.”

  “Why not? You don’t think he can handle both of us?” Benny winks at you and you can hardly contain your laughter. 

  “Jesus Christ Ben, know when to quit.”Frankie is always the one to end these innocent family quarrels.Santi is oddly silent throughout the interaction which is very unlike him during a moment to tease the younger miller. 

  “Frankie I’m perfectly fine on my own tonight,I’m a big girl I can take care of myself.” You refuse to look to your right knowing whose eyes are on you. 

  “Ok big girl, where’s your purse?” You’re suddenly scrambling in the seat,trying to remember the last time you had it. 

  “I swear I had it when we left.” It doesn’t help your growing frustration that everyone including Will seems to have a case of the giggles. 

  “Cariño we would all feel better if you weren’t by yourself, you know you’re always welcome.” You finally look to your right to see Santi holding your purse up in his left hand. You reach to take it from him but he switches it to his right hand, you concede instead and mumble a barely audible thank you.

  Frankie drops you and Santi off first, you lean in between the front seat and place a kiss on Will and Frankie’s cheeks as a silent goodbye. You go to open your door and hear someone clearing their throat. Messing with Benny will never get old for you. You lean in and place a kiss on Benny’s cheek followed by a playful slap. He grabs you by the waist before you can jump out and hauls you into his lap. “If I’m not invited to the next sleepover we’re going to have words sweetheart.” He all but growls into your ear. If you both weren’t so drunk you might call this a tinge of jealousy, but those are thoughts for another day. 

  Santi takes your hand and leads you into the house like he’s done a thousand times but suddenly it feels like the first time. You enter the house and notice the faint scent of lavender and vanilla, you jokingly bought him a wall scent  awhile back because you thought his house smelled too manly. You didn’t think he would actually use it.

  “It smells nice here.” You say as you make yourself comfortable on the couch. He raises his eyebrows at you and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Someone said it was manly in here so I decided to give that thing you gave me a try.” 

  He’s still standing over you with his arms crossed and those chocolate brown eyes are staring directly at you. Even in your drunken state this man could be so intimidating. You both stare in silence for a brief moment waiting for the other to speak when he finally breaks the silence. 

  “Why are you on the couch?” The dramatics of your long exasperated sigh are not lost on him. You always do this song and dance, you refuse to take his bed and then he insists and it’s back and forth until you finally concede. You don’t have the energy for it tonight so you opt to stand and trudge towards his bedroom down the hall. 

  You can hear his footsteps behind you as you make your way to his room, he always gives you his Metallica shirt to wear to bed and tucks you in, the man was nothing If not consistent.

  He heads towards his closet and you toe off your vans and sit on the edge of the bed patiently waiting for your shirt. He tosses you his green army shirt with black lettering and you're staring at it as if it personally offended you. He starts to exit the bedroom and you throw the shirt at the back of his head. 

  “What is that?” You say as you lean back on your elbows on the bed. He slowly turns and faces you with complete and utter shock on his face. He’s trying hard to keep his eyes on your face but fails as they trail down to your slightly open blouse. He clears his throat trying to regain some composure. 

  “First of all I’ll let that slide since I’m partially the reason you’re so drunk, Secondly the Metallica shirt is in the dirty clothes.” 

  “Excuse me, you wore my shirt?” You’ve been a brat before but the tequila has taken it to another level. He stalks towards you and you think he’s probably had enough of your shit tonight. He leans down over you, placing his hands on either side of your hips. His lips are a breath away from your ear and if you weren’t seated your legs would give out at the close proximity.

  “Sweetheart, it’s my shirt and I choose when you can and can’t have it.” His stubble brushes your cheek as he stands  and you think you could’ve come from his voice and the contact alone. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he turns to leave again. 

  “Where are you going?” You’re a little breathless and it came out more rushed than you intended. He turns again confusion written across his face. 

  “First I don’t get my Metallica shirt and then you don’t tuck me in?” You’ve been reduced to whining at this point but he can only blame himself. He was the one after all that got you accustomed to this princess treatment and is now uncharacteristically not holding up his end of the deal. 

  He turns around and picks up the army shirt and tosses it to you. “Get dressed and I’ll tuck you in.” As you begin to undress he turns toward the door,

A gentleman he always is. You pull back the covers and relish in the silk sheets. He chances a glance and you both lock eyes as if you’ve never done this before. He makes his way towards you and pulls the covers up just above your chest. 

  “This...is...all...my…fault.” He punctuates each word with a tuck and you can’t help the giggles that escape you at the sight of this man obliging your request.

   He places his hand on either side of your head on his pillow and you are breathless again. He leans in and stops as though he’s hesitating. Your lips are practically touching but it’s not enough even as you share the same air. He places a soft kiss on your lips but doesn’t pull away. You're certain he is kissing you but your brain can’t register that it’s actually happening. He senses your hesitation and begins to pull away but you chase his lips as your body comes back to you. 

  He places his hand behind your neck and you're moving as though you’ve done this a thousand times. You part your lips to allow him entry and his tongue slowly slides into yours. He bites down on your bottom lip as you pull away to raise yourself into his lap. His hands ghost up your exposed thighs and grab onto your waist hauling you into his chest. You’re on each other again,lips pressed together in a bruising kiss. 

  He begins to trail kiss along your jaw as he helps you grind your hips down on his lap. You can feel his hard cock straining through his jeans against your clothed core. The whimpers and moans from both of you have your slick slowly coating his jeans. You slowly run your fingers through his hair causing a low groan from him. He slowly begins to lift your shirt when he stops just before your breast. 

You're both desperately trying to catch your breath. 

  “Why did you stop?” You say between breaths. 

  “I can’t do this.” He looks as though he’s staring through you, directly at the sent letters on your shirt. It feels as though the blood has drained from your body when you go to stand and grab your clothes. You can’t stay here after that if he’s regretting this. 

  You beginning to dress snaps him from the trance he was in. He charges you from behind, wrapping one arm around your middle, pulling you into his chest. “I didn’t mean it that way.” You try to pry from his grip but he tightens around you. 

  “Let me go.”

  “No…please just listen to me.” He’s pleading at this point and you loosen your grip on his arm. He takes a deep breath and you can feel his hot exhale on the back of your neck. 

  “I want this, I want this with you so badly it hurts.” You shudder and try to calm your breathing not wanting to ruin this rare moment of vulnerability for Santiago Garcia. 

  “I’ve wanted you for so long and I wanted to wait until the moment was right to tell you. I wanted to talk to Benny and the guys because that’s how important you are to me. I don’t want to screw this up like I always do.”

  You’re not sure what he’s referring to but you stay silent. “I don’t want you to make this decision drunk, that’s why I had to stop. I love you.” 

  You blink your eyes and the tears that were threatening to fall while he spoke spilled down your face. He places a soft kiss to the side of your neck. 

  “If you want this with me…tell me in the morning.” He releases his grip around your waist and exits the room.

  You’re left standing in the middle of the bedroom trying to replay what just happened. 

  Por la mañana

Part 2

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[cease-your-release]

They're Lucky to Have You

While on your lunch break, you see a familiar face. Mark Hoffman is the detective responsible for solving the murders that, unbeknownst to him, you're the one doing. (810)

Hello! This is the first chapter in a series, but since I'm horrible at slow burn, we'll have a bit of buildup and then pretty much blast right into a relationship, then have more buildup to the next steps. I may go back and add more stuff in between chapters when it's done, but hopefully y'all are okay with a fast burn instead! Also, for future chapter reference, the reader is mostly gender neutral, but is described as having wider hips, wears a dress at one point, and there are a handful of mentions of dysphoria. I'll be honest and say this series is rather self-indulgent, so may not be for everyone.

Part 1 of "Conundrum of Carnage" Part 2

Also on A03!

You find yourself sitting on a short cement ledge outside of your usual coffee shop on break, halfway between full consciousness and spacing out while looking off into the distance. In your partially-aware state, you swear you notice an oddly familiar face standing just a few feet away, though you can’t place why. After a few seconds, you still haven’t realized that you’re staring at him.

The man looks at you through the corner of his eye a few times, and eventually turns to you with a raised eyebrow. His long black coat sways a little in the subtle breeze of New Jersey’s Autumnal streets. “... Did you need something?” 

You blink a few times in response to the sudden call out, then quickly avert your gaze back to whatever’s in front of you. “Nothing.” You say with a slight shrug, furrowing your brows. “I thought I might’ve seen you somewhere before, is all.”

He stares at you with some suspicion on his face for a few seconds, his eyes analyzing you before he speaks again.  “I don’t think we’ve met." He says as he steps closer, his gaze narrowed. You also seem familiar to him, some part of his mind far back getting a sense of déjà vu from the sight of your face, the sound of your voice.

“Obviously not..” You mutter, glancing at how he’s getting closer through the corner of your eye. There’s something about his walk, the sound of leather shoes on pavement…. Then, you turn to him.  “You’re with the police, aren’t you? You must’ve been at my work when all those cops showed up to ask about those… um, murders.”

“Oh, was that you? I think I remember now.” he says, stopping his approach just about a foot away from you. “You work at that vet clinic, right?” he says, his tone lowering slightly as he speaks the last few words.

You nod, the day flooding back at the confirmation. His name is Hoffman, if your memory serves you correctly. Mark Hoffman, right?  “I’m a tech there, yeah.” you answer, eyes then falling to look him up and down. “Still sorry we couldn’t be of any help. It’s a shame, all those poor animals left without an owner.." You say, which to any regular person would be a bit odd, to mention the pets but not the people.

Mark raises an eyebrow at the comment about the pets, his expression remaining stoic as he processes what you have just said. “Yeah, really is,” he says, with his usual blank expression and tone, “Say, how long have you worked there?”

“Oh, god, it must’ve been.. five years now?” You say thoughtfully, lifting your hand to rest on your cheek as you consider it. “And then those incidents started happening only earlier this year.. I damn near quit out of fear, I’ll tell you what.” You remark with a slight laugh at the end.

He listens intently to your reply, thinking over the information you’ve just given him.  “Why didn’t you?” His voice lowers as he speaks his next line, his stance shifting slightly, tilting his head while he eyes you.

“Well, you know how the job market is right now.” You relent with a sigh, shaking your head. “Besides, they gave everyone a pay raise when the news broke. I guess it was to try and stop people from leaving, and it worked for the most part.”

“So you stuck around for a raise? Sounds like you think the risk is worth the reward.” Hoffman lets out a dry laugh as he leans back on his heels, his eyes continuing to study you, like they’re searching for something. “Then again, why are you guys even still open at all?” he says, “I mean I would’ve never stepped foot in there again after something like that happened.”

You turn your gaze back up to him, your expression as genuine as your voice when you speak. “We’re the only veterinary office for miles, we can’t just close.” You respond, furrowing your brows a bit. “People, and their animals, need us. You of all people should know what that’s like. Right, detective?”

“Yes, I do.”  He nods, and the tense atmosphere that was filling the air dissipates slightly.  “You’re right. People need their vets, and if you are one who has devoted themselves to saving their pets then they’re lucky to have you.”  He replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well.. thank you.” You say in response, almost hesitant or unsure as you speak.  Just then, you get a text from your phone. He watches your expression change. “Ah, I have to get going. It was, um… nice talking to you?”

He shifts his weight, putting his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, you too,” Mark says, nodding once and giving a small, slightly forced smile, “Drive safe.”

[deathbystero]

'cause we're just kids who grew up way too fast

in which Ponyboy struggles to come to terms with everything. a/n - here's the full chapter y'all. lemme know if it's worth carrying on with and if you have any ideas on what I can do to extend the plot, feel free to request or give me some ideas

It’s only been a few weeks since that night—coming on three, to be exact. I don’t think things will ever go back to how they were; how could they? With Johnny and Dallas gone, everything feels off-kilter in some way. Like a loose thread just waiting to be pulled, ready to fall away and leave nothing but a gaping hole in its place. 

Home doesn’t feel like home anymore. Not really—not in the same way it was before. Things are a lot quieter. A lot emptier. I don’t think Darry minds all that much; an empty house is a peaceful house, even under all the unsettling tension. 

The gang feels a lot closer now, too. I suppose that’s one good thing about all of this, but nobody is quite themselves anymore. There isn’t as much energy in the air; there aren’t many laughs around anymore, and nobody smiles as often as they used to. It's like everyone is carrying around a weighty cloud on their shoulders, or maybe they’re just trying to keep their minds busy with something else. But we never talk about those days anymore; no one does. The topic makes us uncomfortable, like a wound that can never be healed. 

Maybe it’s just me who can’t get used to living without them. 

The nightmares still come every once in a while, more now than they used to. Sometimes they’re pretty bad—Johnny and Dallas making frequent appearances, their faces blurred, their voices distorted. Sometimes, I realise that I’m starting to forget the little things about them: the way Johnny would tilt his head a little to the left (or maybe it was to the right) when he was talking; the way Dallas would bite his lip when concentrating hard on something, even if he didn't seem to notice himself doing it. Everything seems to be slipping through my fingers faster than I can grasp, trying desperately to hold onto the memories, begging them not to fade away into the background. 

Maybe that’s why they haunt me so often: because I'm afraid—afraid that someday I won't remember them at all. 

Darry slept on the floor in my bedroom for a little while after that night, too scared to leave me alone after everything. He’s been doing that a lot lately, constantly checking up on me, even when I'm only in the next room over. Sodapop says it's because he's scared I’ll disappear again, which is ridiculous; I’ve got nowhere to run to, and even if I did, I doubt I’d want to anyway. Without Johnny to keep me company, I might as well be right here in Tulsa forever. 

There was never anything in the papers about Johnny and Dallas—at least not anything good. They don’t write editorials for “murderers” and hoodlums. Nobody would read them anyway. It would be a waste of ink, a waste of print, and a waste of paper. It’d just be another story about another couple of kids from the east side who wound up dead. No one would care. No one would even know what happened to them, not until somebody started asking questions, and even then, the truth would be twisted. Nobody knows what happened. Nobody but me. They can try to understand, just like Sodapop, Two-Bit,  Steve, and Darry have tried, but they won’t ever see it the same. Not like I do. 

For a long time after the incident, I tried convincing myself that Johnny wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be; you don’t just lose your closest buddy in one night. That doesn’t just happen. And yet, it had happened to me. 

To be truthful, I still don’t really believe that Johnny is dead. It’s stupid, irrational, and childish, but I can’t help but cling to that notion like my life depends on it. Maybe I'm losing it a bit, growing a little delusional. Darry seems to think so. Not a day goes by where he isn't telling me to “get my damn head out of the clouds” or to “get my act together."

I’m trying, really, I am, but sometimes it gets hard. The truth hurts too much. So I decided it was better to just pretend that it hadn’t happened. Pretend the entire mess never went down. That’s easier than confronting reality, even though I know there are some aspects of Johnny and Dallas’ deaths that are very, very real. Too real to be ignored. And it’s not like I can ignore it, can I? It’s part of me—a piece of me—a piece of my memory that I can never fully forget. I’ll just have to live with it.

That’s easier said than done, though.