#and said friends were each other so it still counts-

[charmedimsure]

Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.

thank you and happy new year <3

*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)

The Three of Us

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.

word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)

warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.

Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."

The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"

The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"

"Class 946, sir!"

Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."

Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."

Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."

All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.

<>

"Time for team selection is up."

You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.

"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."

Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"

You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.

His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"

You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."

You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.

Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."

390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"

You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?

388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."

You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.

390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."

Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"

You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."

390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."

As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.

"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."

You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."

388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."

Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.

You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.

With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."

Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.

Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."

You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.

"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."

You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.

"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."

"Victory at all costs!"

<>

The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.

The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.

The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.

The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.

Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.

"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"

A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.

Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.

"Old hag! What are you doi-"

Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.

You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.

"Rotten bitch!"

All five pieces end up in her hand.

"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.

044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.

A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.

"Oh shit," you say under your breath.

Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.

Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.

It's done! They did it!

The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.

The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.

As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."

You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.

"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"

"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."

390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"

The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.

When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.

You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.

As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"

"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.

388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.

390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."

Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.

He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.

"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"

As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."

You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.

As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"

Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.

"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."

You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.

"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"

You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.

001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.

Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.

Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.

456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."

001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.

You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.

456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.

One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...

You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.

"Pass."

You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.

As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.

The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.

"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."

You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.

As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.

001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"

You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."

Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."

Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.

Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"

You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."

"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."

001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

You nod. "Okay."

"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.

"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.

A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.

You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.

"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."

You smile and nod in thanks.

"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.

Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"

You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.

With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."

"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.

He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."

"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."

Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"

Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."

The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"

"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."

You shake your head. "No, that's okay."

"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."

You thank him as you take the milk.

Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."

You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.

"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.

Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.

<>

"Pass it to me."

The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.

"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.

"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."

"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."

The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.

<>

After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.

He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.

"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"

You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."

Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.

"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."

Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.

"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."

"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."

"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.

"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"

Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.

"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.

The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"

He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."

You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."

He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."

"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."

"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."

You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."

He smiles at you. "Goodnight."

You smile back. "Goodnight."

For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.

<>

You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.

"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.

You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."

"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."

Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

"Let the game begin."

The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.

"Ten."

Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.

Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.

"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"

"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.

Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"

"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.

"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.

You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.

Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.

Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.

"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."

"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."

Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"

You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."

Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.

After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"

Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."

You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.

The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.

Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.

"Now, the final round will begin."

The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."

The platform stops and the lighting dims.

"Two."

Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.

You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.

Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.

The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.

"Can I do something really stupid?"

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"

You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.

For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.

You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."

You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.

The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.

Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.

~

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck

Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!

[grimmsbride]

▗▬̸̎͞/̄͆̅ ̎ ̎̿͞͞͞͞͞͞͞͞ι̚━─ ⠀ NYCTOPHILLIAC ⠀ ⠀ 𑄼ల۫ thanos / reader

getting caught up in thanos’s web was a mistake, especially when it interfered with your sleep.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS unconsensual voyuerism (thanos & reader have sexual relations in her bed while everyone is asleep. even though they are asleep, i still put this warning because i know some people can get uncomfortable). ooc thanos (first time writing for him). oral sex (fem. receiving). porn no plot. mentions of past sexual relations. fingering. dirty talk. unrealistic expectations of quiet sex(?). overuse of pet names (senorita, mama, etc.) etc.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES please heed the warning above as i would hate to make anyone uncomfortable while reading this fic. with that said please enjoy and i apologize for any grammar mistakes or typos.

Despite different games being assigned each day, it all felt the same — as if you had just stepped inside this odd room, surrounded by strangers that held far too many similarities with you. You couldn’t count the amount of times you flinched or teared up as you watched and heard bullets tear people apart, how their strangled cries escaped in a last ditch effort to somehow convince the ruthless guards to spare them. You nearly screamed yourself when blood hit your cheek, tainting the already sweaty area — which you gingerly cleaned up the moment you got time to.

You somehow survived, in just the nick of time too. You wondered if you had any right to be happy for your victory, or you should be remorseful for all the lives lost today. You pondered it for a complete moment before deciding doing so was useless, and not impertinent to your current situation.

Getting out with enough money was of the upmost importance, nothing more and nothing less.

Which is why you were quick to settle into bed the moment the opportunity arose, slipping out of your socks and jacket, pulling the blanket up over yourself, and shutting your eyes. The world around you seemed to cease — aside from the old man’s snoring beside you — your body melting into the mattress. Sleep was the only comfort you could afford to cling to in this situation, anything else was an unnecessary distraction.

Including the one that stood infront of you, taking form as a purple-haired devil.

You never intended to get entangled with any of the other contestants. You could smile and cheer together, but it wasn’t a secret how quickly that relationship could turn sour. Mixing any type of deeper attachments just seemed like a bad idea.

But you fucked up horribly, one thing leading to another, with you in the arms of a man named Thanos, who said just the right words at the time.

You promised yourself that one time was it, you wouldn’t slip up again. You couldn’t afford to slip up anyway.

“Thanos.. go away.” You murmured, courteous of the other contestants around you. You wondered if the two of you were the only ones awake.

Through the dimmed room you could spot Thanos tilting his head, elbow pressing against your bed as he leaned closer.

“C’mon don’t be like that.. just checking on you.”

You rolled your eyes, growing more frustrated by the minute. You desperately wanted sleep- actually, you needed it. You refused to suffer the next morning, especially since your life was literally on the line. You adjusted your pillow, basically staring daggers into the man.

“I’m fine, now, go to your own bed—“

“And.. I’m also cold.”

You blinked rapidly, nearly slapping that stupid smile right off his face. You decided to turn your back to him, ignoring that soft sound of disapproval he released.

“Wear your jacket or something.. hell— steal your friend’s blanket. Just let me sleep.”

You chose to ignore the second sound he released, which seemed to be an unusually pitiful whine, mixed with an obnoxious groan. You wanted to tell him off for his volume, but decided not to— trying to seem as stern as possible so he could finally leave you alone.

But Thanos wasn’t the type to let up, something you quickly learned the moment you met him. Seeing as his fingers began to graze your blanket, rising closer just so his lips were hovering over your ear.

“But you’re right here.. can’t we share some warmth until morning? You wouldn’t want me to freeze, right?”

Thanos’s words were tempting, as usual. Whether you liked to admit it or not, he knew just what to say. Which is why you called him a devil, a sickening demon with that silver tongue.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to fight mind over matter. Not only was this bad for your sleep, you were also at risk for breaking some unknown rule. And if you got shot over cuddling, you would definitely haunt this place like a vengeful spirit.

But in the end you gave in, the reason fleeting at the moment. You could only focus on the fact he would hopefully shut up when he got what he wanted. So, wordlessly, you brought up the blanket behind you; hearing his small giddy voice as he climbed in with you.

At least the man was nice enough to allow most of the blanket to cover you, the rest of your exposed self covered by his larger frame. Thanos made quick work of wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him as his face found your neck.

“You have to leave before morning.”

Whether acknowledging you or not, the man just let out a hum, lips treading across your warm skin in the process. With a shiver you attempted to focus on sleep, admitting to yourself that the extra warmth was comforting. It also allowed you to truly relax, knowing your back was covered— literally.

Your hand found the back of his, fingers spreading along it as your eyes settled shut. You felt your self slipping in slowly, body growing heavier as that relaxation began to reach its peak.

Only to tumble down the moment you felt a thumb play at the waistband of your pants.

“Thanos..”

“Hm?”

You slowly turned your head, tight-lipped and squinting at him through the darkness. “Don’t fucking hm, me— what are you doing?”

The shit-eating grin that developed was telling, his thumb now slithering under your shirt and rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Not a thing.. yet.”

“We’re supposed to be sleeping!”

The man was quick to raise his free hand, placing a taunting finger to his lips. “Don’t wake the others Señorita, that’ll be just plain rude.” The circles on your skin continued, Thanos closer as his lips brushed against your own yet didn’t fully touch.

“This will help you sleep better. Erasing alll your worries in the blink of an eye.” He breathed, eyes flicking low as if attempting to see beneath the blanket. Instead his hand did the seeing for him, fingers breaching your pants and underwear; tips stroking your soft cunt. He couldn’t help the little twitch of a smile the moment he felt you release a strangled breath, using two long fingers to spread you open to his hand.

And when your lips parted to speak, his own covered them; a gentle kiss that caused your mind to grow dizzy. You couldn’t help your legs spreading, hand wrapping around Thanos’s wrist the moment you felt him at your clit. He rolled his thumb so perfectly, applying delicious pressure to the little bud that caused you to see stars.

The moment you needed to breathe you regretted leaving his lips, seeing as you struggled to keep your voice down. He wasn’t even touching you much yet here you were, panting and releasing the softest moan. With a quick raise of your hand, you covered your mouth— teeth biting into the flesh the moment you felt a finger slowly sink into your wetness.

“Wish I could see..” The soft comment made you groan softly, hips rising the moment he began to piston his finger. Within moments a second was joining, scissoring you open and plunging deeper then your own fingers could. Your eyebrows knitted close, the pain of your bite washing away with each thrust of his digits.

“Thanos.. please..”

“Oh no.. keep your voice to yourself— I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear how pretty you sound.”

As usual his words held such a teasing tone, face moving back to your neck to kiss and bite gently. Even with his small request the man wasn’t making the situation any easier, especially when his thumb moved right back to your sensitive clit; rubbing those same dizzy inducing circles.

You felt way too good right now, your body practically shaking with how much you struggled to keep in. The thought of anyone waking up right now with you in this state — under the mercy of a certain purple-haired, tattooed rapper — was a thought you couldn’t even imagine without your heart pounding with anxiety.

The best thing to do would be to push him off before things progressed. You hadn’t a clue how far he wanted to take this, nor did you think it would end in time for the lights to cut on. And Thanos wasn’t a creep, he would listen to you the moment you expressed actual discomfort from the situation. But you weren’t, that pain you felt all day, that anguish; did truly wash away in seconds just from the flick of his fingers.

The thrusts against your velvety, soaked walls were perfect— your eyes rolling to find your skull the moment the ferocity increased. A metallic taste invaded your mouth from how bad you were biting yourself, but you didn’t care; it was a concern for morning [Name], not horny [Name] who was currently being cared for by the hottest contestant in this god forsaken place.

“Oh, all this clenching— you’re close aren’t you? Can barely get my fingers out.”

The smile in his speech was obvious, breath fanning against your skin as he urged you more and more; curling his fingers just right to hear your muffled sounds peak into a small squeal.

Your nails dragged across his tattooed hand, feeling it flex with each movement of his fingers. Your mind was growing cloudy, barely being able to register the words that were being pressed right against your ear.

“How about I get a taste, huh? Wanna come all in my mouth, mama.. it’ll be such an easy clean up.”

Before you could even think to speak Thanos was pulling his hand out from within you. You had little time to protest when you felt him grabbing your blanket, pulling it over his body as he crawled down your own. Your eyes slowly widened, realizing his words and actions; a new sheen of sweat finding your skin. Your nerves were on fine at this point, inner mind screaming to tell him to do anything else but that.

However, the moment you felt him pulling down your pants and his lips finding your pretty cunt, all hope was lost. The back of your head quickly found your pillow, hand going right back to your mouth to bite down even harsher than before. His tongue exited his mouth in a long stride, gliding across your wet center, and parting you easily.

Thanos created similar ministrations with the tip of his tongue like his thumb, circling your bud and slowly pulling it between his lips. There, he began to suck, the sound noisy but muffled by your blankets and other’s snoring.

Muffled gasps pushed against your skin, hips rising and legs closing around his head; bringing him even closer to you. The peak that was steadily approached seemed to pick up speed far too quickly, your mind turning to mush.

No more were you number so-so, victim to madmen and their sick games. No, you were simply [Name], moaning wantonly with little care for the environment around you.

Your other hand slithered under the blanket, finding his hair and tugging the soft tresses; feeling them stick between the gaps of your fingers. Shamelessly you rubbed against his face, desperate for that sweet release. Your pussy convulsed with each struggled breath you took, stars impeding your vision as you got closer and closer.

You felt it before you heard it, Thanos’s sweet urges right into your pussy. His wet words of make me a mess, pretty girl— don’t hold back on me now, causing you to tip over the line.

His mouth latched to you, drinking up your release as if you tasted better than any drug within his cross. It didn’t help he was practically praising your taste, a sloppy groan being delivered right into your pussy. Gingerly, Thanos licked you clean, assuring not a single drop was left.

Only when the man was fully satisfied did he let up, climbing up from the blanket and popping his head out to look down at you.

“See, it helped— you can barely keep your eyes open right now.”

You released a soft breath, a mix of a chuckle and a sigh as you stared up at the man. “You gonna let me sleep now?” You spoke softly, watching his wet lips curl into a gentle smile.

“Of course. Good night, [Name].”

[tmbrstylnsn]

hii! i'm louis, i'm gonna answer all these about my system, the reveromantic system :3

1. which headmates are the iconic couple?

my instinct is to say me and harry, but i know that award goes to tommy and wilbur. theyve been here the longest and founded our system, plus theyre married so bonus points.

2. which headmates are the unlikely couple?

see, this has to go to tommy and wilbur again. me and harry, and liam and zayn, are both popular ships in our source. toms and wil arent, so they win this one again.

3. which headmates were enemies at first but are now best friends/a couple?

i dont think any of us were really enemies, since we formed as pairs. but i do have source memories of liam finding me super annoying before we became best mates, so theres that!

4. which headmate is the most different from the body?

ooh... personality wise, its gotta be harry or maybe liam? i think the others (including me) share traits with our separate DID system, so theres some similarity there. ill say harry, hes really unique <3

visually, ive gotta say tommy for being blonde. thats one hair colour our body has never had and probably never will have.

5. which headmates are city folk?

all of us ahaha, i dont think any of us like the country. maybe tommy would disagree, im not sure. he was real active back when we did live in the semi-country, so maybe hes got attachments to it?

6. which headmates are country folk?

not really any of us, but like i said maybe tommy?

7. which headmates have the most unique music taste?

ooh, i dont know if any of us do. i really like one direction, obviously, and me own music. i love harry and zayn's stuff too, but again our whole body loves that music so its not really unique?

i think we all just like our source music a lot, like tommy and wilbur are both lovejoy obsessed, and me, harry, zayn, and liam are 1D obsessed.

8. which headmates have the most specific role?

none of us have roles! our other sysmates in our DID system do, but we dont because we're nontraumagenic and just exist for fun :3

9. are there any headmates from a different state/city/place than the body?

well, all of us except tommy are british, and from various parts of england. im from doncaster, harry's from holmes chapel, zayn's from bradford, liam's from wolverhampton, wilbur's from london, and tommy is american but i think he was still born in nottingham? could be wrong :P

10. which headmates are emo/punk/goth?

ooh thats a good question. i think zayn probably leans the most like, punk or emo or whatever it is. none of us really do, i think we all just dress like normal lads. i do like me a good black cutoff shirt and skinny jeans, though!

11. what are some pet peeves headmates have about each other?

hm... i dunno if we have any at the moment. other than source memories, like me and liam getting on each other's nerves! but we all get on pretty well, generally.

12. what headmate was the biggest surprise?

definitely liam and zayn. i wasnt expecting them to form, after me and harry i thought it would just be us two, toms, and wilbur. i had no idea our mates would be forming too, but im glad they did! love these lads.

13. what headmate has a skill the body doesnt?

we tend to share skills, but i guess the british accents count? our body can do a british accent whenever, but its usually stronger and feels more natural/comfortable when one of us (bar tommy) is fronting and speaking in our specific accent.

14. which headmate makes the most typos?

gonna take a guess and say either harry or tommy, harry because hes a bit silly and loose with life, and tommy because hes probably talking too fast to fix it.

15. what headmate has the weirdest way of talking/typing?

hm... zayn for talking, me for typing. i say a lot of shit like "me" instead of my sometimes, "babes" a whole lot, stuff like that. it doesnt sound too weird verbally, but over text its quite obvious its me.

zayn for talking because hes got that rougher british accent that sounds distinctly different to the rest of us. cant quite describe it, but if youve heard source zayn talk yknow what i mean.

these were fun to answer!

- louis

SYSTEM ASK GAME!! FOR SYSTEMS OF ANY ORIGINS!! SYSMEDS DNI!!

Which headmates are the iconic couple

Which headmates are the unlikely couple

Which headmates were enemies at first and now best friends and/or a couple

Which headmate is the most different from the body?

Which headmates are city folk

Which headmates are country folk

Which headmates have the most unique music taste?

Which headmate has the most specific role?

Are there any headmates from a specific state/country/etc different from the body?

Which headmates are emo/punk/goth etc?

What are some pet peeves headmates have about other headmates?

What headmate was the biggest surpise?

What headmate has a skill that the body doesn't usually, but when they front the body gets it (or almost gets it)?

What headmate makes the most typos?

What headmate has the weirdest (/pos) way of talking/typing?

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART NINE

paige x azzi

word count: 6.4k

A/N: Alright I’m feeling much better and I’m no longer losing my shit after CD said she wouldn’t call it an injury 🙂‍↕️. Here’s the next chapter! It’s a little rough at the beginning but just get through it trust me . Please leave live reacts if you can, I need a little extra motivation today 😭

—————————————————————————

October 2022

For weeks after their argument, Paige kept her word. She stayed true to her role as Azzi’s best friend and was there anytime the younger girl needed her, it didn’t matter what she was doing, she was there. She did make Azzi stop coming with her to physical therapy though, and Nika had stepped in to take her place. Physical therapy always got a little too intimate when they’d ask whoever accompanied Paige to push on her knee and Paige knew that she and Azzi couldn’t handle that right now. They still spent time together–Paige helping Azzi in the gym here and there, texting during the day, hanging out sporadically, studying–but everything had changed. There were clear lines now. They didn’t flirt, they didn’t touch in ways that meant anything more than friendship. It was as though they were back to where they started, but it was painfully different.

Paige had started hanging out more with Ice, the freshman who quickly became a source of amusement for her. Ice's humor was dry and a little corny, and Paige found herself genuinely laughing more than she had since her and Azzi ended things. If that’s what you would call it. But even with Ice’s company, there were still moments when she couldn’t help but think about Azzi. It wasn’t that she didn’t love their friendship now, but it didn’t fill the large space Azzi once occupied when they were clearly more than friends.

Ice leaned back in her chair, her expression one of pure disbelief. “That’s bullshit. I refuse to believe there was a point when you and Azzi didn’t like each other.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, we couldn’t stand each other. Every little thing she did annoyed me and she hated me honestly.”

Ice raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And now look at you, a full-blown simp. How the tables have turned.”

Paige rolled her eyes, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“So how’d you two even get past that?” Ice asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. “Like, how’d you go from ‘can’t stand each other’ to…” she gestured vaguely, “this?”

Paige’s laugh softened, and she shrugged. “The gym, mostly. We kinda connected over basketball first. That was the one thing we could agree on. At first, we only talked about basketball—nothing else. But once we built a decent foundation of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds, we started hanging out more. It just…happened from there.”

Ice nodded thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Why don’t you just do that again this time then?”

Paige gave her a look. “We don’t need to build a foundation, Ice. She’s still my best friend.”

“Righttt,” Ice said, dragging out the word with heavy sarcasm. “Your best friend that you’re in love with, and you haven’t seen in like five days.”

Paige rolled her eyes again, though a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “We text.”

Ice snorted. “That’s not the same, and you know it.”

Paige shrugged again, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s just… a little hard to be around each other sometimes now.”

Ice narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

Paige didn’t answer, but the grin on her face grew wider, her expression practically glowing with unspoken thoughts.

Ice groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Ew, dude. You’re disgusting.”

Paige just laughed, grabbing a basketball nearby and bouncing it lightly off Ice’s arm. “Shut up.”

But as the laughter faded, Paige’s expression softened, her smile dimming into something more thoughtful. “Honestly though, Azzi just needs some space from me to figure things out, and I’m trying to give her that.”

Ice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Space for what?”

Paige hesitated, her fingers idly spinning the basketball in her lap. She glanced away briefly before answering, her tone careful and measured. “She has a lot of internal things to figure out before she can even think about being with me. I realized it a while ago but I don’t know if she has.”

Ice’s brow furrowed, but she nodded slowly. “That sounds… rough.”

“It is,” Paige admitted, her voice quieter now. “But she’s worth it. So I’m giving her what she needs.”

Ice studied her for a moment, then leaned back with a small smile. “Damn P, you really love her, huh?”

Paige didn’t even flinch. She met Ice’s gaze, a soft but unwavering certainty in her eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

Ice smirked, her teasing tone returning. “You’re still a simp, though.”

Paige groaned, chucking the basketball at her again, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Shut up, Ice.”

November 2022

The next month was much harder than Paige thought it would be. Between missing Azzi and being sidelined by her injury and not being able to start the season with the team, she felt like she was drowning most days. Basketball, her usual escape, was no longer an option. Instead, she found herself in the gym, not to work out but to just sit in the silence, wishing she could push her body for hours on end. But eventually she’d get too frustrated when all she could do was shoot a few flat footed shots and she'd just let herself cry in the empty gym until she didn’t have any more energy. Other times, she’d just sit in her car, staring ahead, trying to calm her thoughts. More than once, she ended up sick at the sight of the back seat—a painful reminder of what, and who, was missing.

Azzi wasn’t doing much better. She’d become a mirror of who Paige used to be, burying herself in the gym day and night, trying to outrun her thoughts. Paige was still there for her, though, which made Azzi feel like even more of an ass, having somebody as sweet as Paige, just waiting for her to get her shit together. When things were a little too hard and Azzi would come to her door with tear stained eyes in the middle of the night Paige always let her in, let her talk about whatever she needed to or just sleep. The first time it happened was a random Tuesday at 3am.

Azzi’s knocks were gentle and tentative at first but it was enough for Paige to stir, her mind still fuzzy from sleep as the knock came again, a little louder this time. She groggily threw off her blanket and shuffled to the door, blinking against the dim hallway light cascading from the bottom of the door.

When she opened it, Azzi stood there, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, as though the weight of the world had poured out of her. There were no words, no explanations, just a look that said everything, Paige didn’t ask, she just stepped aside, letting Azzi into the warmth of the room. Azzi’s shoulders were trembling, but she didn’t speak, her chest rising and falling in slow uneven breaths. Paige closed the door softly behind her, then walked back to her bed, sinking back into the mattress where Azzi now laid, holding one of Paige’s pillows close.

Paige reached over, draping her arm against Azzi’s torso as she pulled her closer but not quite cuddling her. Just enough to let Azzi know she wasn’t alone as Paige’s eyes fluttered shut drifting back to sleep.

After that night Paige couldn’t imagine not being there for Azzi, knowing what she was struggling with. But things weren’t the same. They didn’t text everyday anymore, and their hangouts had all but stopped after it became clear that they didn’t really know how to be just friends anymore. The space between them, once so easy to close, now felt like an endless stretch.

Azzi blamed herself for what happened between them. She was constantly fighting an internal battle that seemed like a losing game. One part of her knew exactly how she felt about Paige, knew she wanted the older girl more than anything. The other half was a constant pull against this thought process. The part of her brain that was telling her she wasn’t the type of person who takes risks like this, she didn’t gamble her future that she had worked so hard for. Constantly in her own ear telling herself she had every right to be scared.

Now, Paige sat alone in the empty gym, her legs stretched out in front of her, a basketball resting at her feet. She knew she couldn’t play much, just dribble around and shoot here and there, so she came here to think, to feel some semblance of peace. The quiet of the gym was comforting, even if it couldn’t heal what was broken, only Azzi could do that.

The sound of the door opening broke the silence. Paige glanced up to see Azzi standing there, her figure framed by the dim gym lights. Azzi paused, stuck in the doorway. The sight of Paige, lost in thought, felt all too familiar, stirring memories of another time they’d both hesitated to bridge the distance between them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, both caught in a whirlwind of emotions and memories. Paige chuckled softly at the irony, breaking the tension, and nudged the ball with her foot, sending it rolling toward Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile as she stepped inside, picking up the ball. She hesitated again, glancing at Paige, before making her way over. She sat down beside her but left enough space between them to keep the air light, uncertain. Neither of them spoke right away, the quiet wrapping around them like a truce.

Paige was the first to break the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness. “You played like shit last game.”

Azzi blinked, then burst out laughing, the unexpectedness of Paige’s comment catching her off guard. “Shit is an understatement,” she admitted, shaking her head.

Paige smirked, leaning back slightly. “What’d you come here to work on?”

Azzi shrugged, a noncommittal gesture. “Anything, I guess.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully as she got to her feet, grabbing the ball. Ice’s words from October echoing in her mind now. She spun the ball between her hands, glancing at Azzi. “Why you been taking so long to shoot lately?”

Azzi crossed her arms, tilting her head. “The passes are all over the place,” she said simply. “I got used to you hitting me in stride so it’s a big adjustment.”

Paige paused, nodding as she processed Azzi’s words. There was a quiet understanding in the air—an acknowledgment of how much they relied on each other, on and off the court.

By now, Azzi had stood up, her eyes tracking the ball as Paige passed it casually between her hands. Paige grinned. “Let’s work on it.”

Azzi raised a brow, confused. “Work on what?”

Paige laughed, her grin widening. “I’m about to throw you some of the worst passes of your life, and you’re gonna work on shooting without taking too much time to adjust the ball.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her feet were already carrying her toward the court.

Before they began, Azzi paused and looked at Paige. “I miss you,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

Paige’s expression softened, and a small, genuine smile spread across her face. “I miss you too, Az,” she replied, her tone equally tender. Then, without missing a beat, she threw Azzi an intentionally terrible pass, the ball veering off to the side.

Azzi barely managed to catch it, quickly gathering herself for the shot, but the ball clanged off the rim.

Paige smirked. “Not bad. Now do it faster and try making it next time.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. They fell into an easy rhythm after that, Paige throwing increasingly awful passes, and Azzi working to shoot without hesitation. Laughter echoed through the gym when the passes were too bad to catch, blending with the rhythmic sound of the ball hitting the hardwood.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like they were back in sync—no words needed, just the game and each other.

The rhythm they had fallen into was effortless, the sound of Azzi’s playlist flowing through the speakers now as they worked on her shot. Laughter occasionally filled the gym, the tension from the past weeks melting away with every pass and shot.

That is, until the music cut off, replaced by the ring of an incoming call.

Azzi, mid-dribble, glanced toward her phone sitting on the floor. “Can you check who it is?” she asked Paige, who was closer.

Paige hesitated for a moment before walking over. She glanced at the screen, the name flashing boldly. Her jaw tightened ever so slightly, but it was enough for Azzi to notice. Paige cleared her throat. “Somebody named Elle,” she said, her tone a little too neutral.

Azzi didn’t miss the shift in Paige’s posture or the way her eyes flicked away from the phone. She didn’t need Paige to say anything; she could see the wheels turning in her head.

“It’s not what you think, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice firm but gentle.

Paige shook her head, brushing it off with a forced smile. “No, Azzi, you don’t have to explain—”

“Paige,” Azzi cut her off, stepping closer. “She’s my partner for a project. That’s it.”

Paige looked down, her fingers grazing the edge of her shirt. “It’s fine if it was something else you know,” she said softly, though the words felt hollow even to her.

“No, it isn’t,” Azzi said firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt in Paige’s mind. “It isn’t fine because I don’t want anybody else. I only want you, Paige. I’ve told you that, and I mean it.”

Paige’s shoulders sagged slightly, guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know it’s not really my place.”

Azzi stepped even closer, her eyes searching Paige’s. “It is your place,” she said, her voice softer now. “So you don’t need to apologize.”

Paige glanced at her, caught in the sincerity of Azzi’s gaze. The tension in the air softened, the weight between them shifting back into something warm and steady.

“Okay,” Paige finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi nodded, giving her a small smile. “Good. Now come back over here—I’m not done getting used to these terrible passes.”

Paige chuckled despite herself, picking up the ball. And just like that, they found their rhythm again, though the words exchanged lingered, a quiet reassurance binding them closer.

After finishing up in the gym, both of them grabbed their things and headed out. Paige made her way toward her car, expecting Azzi to follow. But when she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Azzi strolling casually along the sidewalk.

Paige frowned, stopping in her tracks. “What are you doing?” she called out.

Azzi glanced back with a small shrug. “I didn’t drive.”

Paige’s eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of offense and exasperation flashing across her face. “You thought I was going to let you walk?” she said, her tone incredulous.

Azzi chuckled but didn’t respond, her smile widening as Paige simply muttered, “Unbelievable.”

With a grin, Azzi turned and walked toward Paige’s car. Paige muttered under her breath the whole time, just loud enough for Azzi to hear. “She’s gotta be crazy. Can’t believe she thought I’d let her walk. Who does she think I am?”

When they reached the car, Paige yanked open the passenger door, motioning for Azzi to get in. Azzi stepped in with a laugh, and Paige shut the door with more force than necessary, her irritation over something so small almost comical.

By the time Paige slid into the driver’s seat, Azzi was grinning at her. “I miss how dramatic you are,” she teased, still laughing softly.

Paige shot her a glare as she started the car. “You give me a fucking headache Azzi,” she said, but there was no bite to her words.

When they arrived back at the dorms, Paige’s suite came up first. She slowed to a stop, slinging her bag over her shoulder and turning toward Azzi.

“Night,” Paige said, already halfway to the door.

Azzi nodded but didn’t keep walking. “Paige,” she called, her voice stopping Paige in her tracks.

Paige turned back, raising an eyebrow slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. “I’ve been thinking…can we maybe talk tomorrow?”

Paige blinked, her confusion evident, but she nodded. “Yeah… of course,” she said, her tone cautious.

Azzi’s smile widened a little , though she didn’t offer any explanation. “I’ll text you,” she said simply.

Paige gave her a small smile in return. “Okay. Goodnight, Az.”

“Goodnight, P,” Azzi replied, her voice quiet but warm as she turned to walk toward her own suite.

Paige lingered for a second, watching Azzi’s retreating figure, her mind swirling with questions. Finally, she shook her head and headed inside, her thoughts lingering on the way Azzi had looked at her just now.

…

The next day, around 1 PM, Paige’s phone buzzed with a text from Azzi.

💗: You hungry? Let’s grab some food

Paige smiled at the message, typing a quick reply.

P 💗: Yeah that works for me

It didn’t take long for Azzi to reply.

💗: We’re taking my car.

Paige frowned slightly, shooting back a quick question mark.

P 💗: ?

The response came almost immediately.

💗: I almost threw up in your car yesterday when Steve Lacy came on

Paige let out a loud laugh, immediately understanding what Azzi was referring to as she had her own struggles being in there sometimes. She shook her head, typing back with a smirk.

P 💗: That’s dramatic, even for you

Azzi’s reply was short but effective.

💗: Not taking any chances

Still chuckling, Paige grabbed her things, her mood lighter than it had been in days. Azzi always had a way of pulling her out of her head, even with something as simple as sending a few texts.

They sat down at a corner table, the comforting hum of the restaurant around them as they ate their Chipotle bowls. The familiar, easy chatter filled the space between them yesterday being what they needed to return to the natural rhythm of their friendship, the laughter, and the simple joy of each other's company.

But, as the conversation slowly died down, Azzi looked at Paige, her expression shifting slightly.

“I want us to start over,” Azzi said quietly, her voice soft but serious.

Paige blinked, furrowing her brow. “Start over? What do you mean?”

Azzi took a deep breath, clearly trying to find the right words. “I want us to try this again, but—” she paused, trying to make sure she found the right words. “I want us to do it the right way this time.”

Paige tilted her head, her confusion evident but her tone gentle with Azzi like always. “Azzi, what are you saying?”

Azzi’s gaze was unwavering as she leaned forward slightly, the space between them feeling more intimate. “I want us to date, Paige,” she said, her voice steady.

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before a soft, teasing smile tugged at her lips. “So... you want to be my girlfriend now?”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers tapping gently against the edge of the table. “No…at least not yet,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I want us to go on dates and test the waters. We did things the wrong way, and I want to fix it.”

Paige’s eyes softened as a slow smile began to form on her lips. She leaned forward slightly, clearly proud of Azzi. “Tell me more about it.”

Azzi smiled at the shift in Paige’s expression, the spark of curiosity now in her eyes. “We can go on dates,” Azzi continued, her voice steady as she outlined her plan she thought a lot about. “But I’m not going to let you kiss me until we have a few dates. And we’re not going to have sex for a while, or we’re going to at least try really hard not to. I want us to get to know each other as two people dating, not just best friends who happen to be doing this.”

Paige nodded, as she listened to her. She hadn’t expected Azzi to say something like this when she asked her to lunch today, but it made sense for her. It was a different approach, one that felt like it had the potential to be something more controlled. Something more grounded. Which is exactly what Azzi needed.

“So, where’s this coming from?” Paige asked, her voice low with curiosity but also a touch of tenderness. “I thought you were—”

Azzi cut her off, her gaze soft but unwavering. “Despite what you think, Paige,” she said quietly, “I’m in love with you. These past few weeks have done nothing but show me that. I’m still scared as hell, but I want to at least try.”

Paige swallowed, her heart beating a little faster at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice. She really hadn’t expected this, she expected Azzi to try to mend their friendship, try to get back to their usual routine of hanging out. But the more Paige thought about it she understood. Azzi was always so detailed and plan oriented. She always needed steps and checkpoints to ease her mind, to let her see the progress she was making.

“I’m not asking for anything,” Azzi continued, her voice a little shaky now that Paige hadn’t said much. “I just want to start fresh. I want us to really try.”

Paige leaned back slightly, her arms folded across her chest as she processed Azzi’s words. The weight of everything that had been said, everything that had been left unsaid, hung heavily in the air. She couldn’t help but hesitate, uncertainty creeping in despite the hope in her chest.

“How do I know you’re not just going to change your mind again?” Paige asked, her voice quiet. She wanted to believe Azzi, wanted to dive into this with her, but it was hard to shake that lingering fear of being hurt again.

Azzi didn’t flinch at the question. She just looked at Paige, with a calmness that her voice conveyed when she answered. “You don’t,” she said simply. “That’s the thing I had to get over. We don’t really know what’s going to happen. That’s been my fear this whole time. Not knowing. Not being in control of it. But we never know what’s going to happen at any point in life so.”

Paige’s gaze softened, and she nodded slowly, taking in what Azzi was saying. But Azzi wasn’t done, and she shifted slightly, her hands in her lap as she continued.

“I was talking to my mom the other day,” Azzi began, her voice quieter now, but still with a hint of vulnerability. “And she tried to make me laugh by asking who shat in my breakfast. But honestly, it just made me cry more than anything.”

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly how Katie could be. “Figures,” she said with a soft smile, her heart lifting slightly at the mention of Azzi’s mom.

Azzi smiled too, but the smile was fleeting, and the seriousness returned quickly. “Yeah. But... I told her everything that’s been going on. All of it. How I feel about you. About us.” She paused, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. “Some parts of the story shocked her, honestly. I thought she was going to yell at me, but she didn’t. She just listened.”

Paige’s eyes widened a little, a surprise settling in her chest. She hadn’t expected that. For Azzi to talk to her mom about them already? It was a huge step. It made her heart skip a little—an odd mix of pride and tenderness swelling inside her knowing Azzi had come out to her mom.

“How... how did it go?” Paige asked softly, unsure of how to phrase the question but needing to know. She could sense how much this conversation had meant to Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “It was fine. Perfectly fine, actually,” she said, her voice steady now. “I thought it was going to be hard, but... she already kind of knew. I mean, she’s not blind. She said she could tell something was going on, especially with how much time you spend at our place whenever we’re on break. She thought it was pretty obvious.”

Paige blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought Katie would pick up on that. “Really?”

Azzi nodded, her gaze soft but thoughtful. “Yeah. She’s always been good at reading me, even when I’m not saying anything. We were talking for a while after I explained everything... she said something that kinda struck a nerve.” Azzi’s voice lowered again, a little more humor to it. “She was explaining some stupid metaphor that I could never understand, and she said life is all about taking chances. Usually, the best ones—the ones that really matter—are the ones that scare us the most.”

Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, and there was something raw, something real, in the way she looked at her. “And you scare the hell out of me, Paige,” she said quietly, her words filled with sincerity. “So that’s exactly why I can’t just let us pass by. I can’t keep living in the ‘what ifs.’ I’ve been too afraid, and I’m tired of being afraid.”

Finally, Paige let out a deep breath and reached across the table, her hand finding Azzi’s with a gentle squeeze. “I’m scared too,” Paige admitted softly.

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Paige’s hand in return, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for anything more than what I said. I just want to try, Paige. I want us to take it slow, to get to know each other again and see where it goes.”

Paige’s smile was small but genuine, her heart fluttering at the thought of what could be. “Okay. We’ll try,” she said, the words feeling right. “We’ll take it slow.”

Azzi’s smile mirrored hers, though it was still laced with vulnerability.

…

This is how, a few days later, Paige and Azzi were on their first date.

Azzi had initially tried to take the reins, attempting to plan every detail, but Paige quickly vetoed the idea, claiming she’d been waiting for months to make this happen. Azzi didn’t even try to argue with that logic.

Now, they were on their way to a mystery destination Paige refused to disclose, with music filling the car. The ride was easy, lighthearted, and full of laughter—until Azzi reached out and skipped another Steve Lacy song.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh, glancing over at her. “What? Are we never listening to the album again?”

Azzi shot her a glare but couldn’t entirely hide the amused glint in her eyes. “Not for a long time, we’re not,” she retorted firmly, her voice dripping with mocking distress.

Paige only chuckled as they pulled into a parking lot. Azzi’s curiosity grew as she turned her attention ahead, her brow furrowing slightly until recognition dawned. Her lips curved into a wide grin.

“You brought me to the fair?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

Paige glanced at her, her own smile soft but proud. “Yeah. Dinner’s boring,” she said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious decision in the world.

Azzi laughed, her eyes sparkling as she shook her head. “Of course you’d think that.”

Paige leaned back in her seat, looking out at the glowing lights of the fairground. “Come on, big head,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

…

Their date was going amazingly. Azzi, naturally, made Paige get her a funnel cake, ignoring Paige’s protests as she tore off a piece and practically forced it into Paige’s mouth. Paige grumbled but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.

As the night went on, it became obvious that Paige was annoyingly good at everything. Every time Azzi swore Paige was about to lose a game, Paige proved her wrong. Neither of them wanted any of the prizes, so Paige made a habit of giving them away, handing stuffed animals and trinkets to random kids. The two of them would watch as the kids ran off, bouncing with excitement, leaving Azzi shaking her head at how effortlessly charming Paige could be with all ages.

Now, they were strolling through the fair, Paige’s arm casually draped over Azzi’s shoulder while Azzi leaned into her side, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like the glowing lights of the fairground. But their quiet bubble burst when a small fan recognized Paige.

The fan approached cautiously, smiling nervously. “Hey, Paige, can I get a quick picture?”

Paige offered a warm smile. “Of course.”

After the fan snapped a picture with Paige, they hesitated before turning to Azzi. “Um, can I get one with you too Azzi?”

Azzi blinked in surprise before smiling and nodding. “Sure.”

Once the pictures were taken and the fan left with a cheerful wave, Paige’s attention shifted, her eyes catching sight of something in the distance. “Oh my god,” she muttered, her face lighting up as she grabbed Azzi’s hand.

“What?” Azzi asked, laughing at Paige’s sudden enthusiasm.

Paige didn’t answer, pulling her toward the basketball booth, where a massive Olaf stuffed animal sat on display. “It’s too good to be true,” she said, practically bouncing with excitement.

When they reached the booth, Paige handed the worker some tickets. He explained the rules, telling her she needed to make three out of five shots to win. Paige nodded and stepped up to the line drawn on the concrete.

But the worker held up a hand. “Nah, I know who you are. You gotta scoot back,” he said with a grin.

Paige laughed, stepping back as Azzi chuckled beside her. “Uh oh, the pressures on now,” Azzi teased.

Paige made the first four shots with ridiculous ease, defying the odds of the notoriously rigged carnival game. As she took her time with each shot a small crowd had gathered to watch her, but Paige was unfazed.

The worker let her take the fifth shot just for fun, even though she’d already won. Azzi, standing to the side, couldn’t resist teasing her. “You’re such a show-off,” she said, crossing her arms with a smirk.

Paige, knowing full well Azzi secretly loved it, grinned as she lined up the last shot. Without breaking eye contact with Azzi, she released the ball. The ball going in.

Azzi rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re irritating.”

Paige strolled over to the worker, who handed her the massive Olaf. Without hesitation, Paige turned and placed it into Azzi’s arms.

“This one’s yours,” Paige said with a confident grin.

Azzi looked down at the stuffed Olaf and then back at Paige, her expression softening. “You’re cute, you know that?”

Paige just smiled at her, as she felt a tap on her lower back seeing a little girl with a huge smile on her face.

After Paige and Azzi finished taking pictures with a few fans who had crowded around to watch Paige play the game, she and Azzi resumed walking through the fairground, their steps in sync. Paige’s arm once again draped casually over Azzi’s shoulder, the familiar, comforting ease of their connection returning.

They walked in silence for a few moments, but the air between them was full of understanding. They didn’t need to fill every moment with words—just the presence of each other was enough.

When they reached the car, Paige opened the door for Azzi like always. Azzi smiled, appreciating the gesture every time Paige does it, before sliding into the passenger seat. Paige walked around the front of the car, slipping into the driver’s side. She took a moment to glance over at Azzi, who was still holding the Olaf stuffie, her eyes soft but smiling.

Paige gave a small smirk as she started the engine, teasing, “You’re actually keeping it, huh?”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting the stuffed Olaf on her lap. “Yes, it’s Olaf. I’m keeping it.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head as she pulled out of the parking lot. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence between them as they drove off towards UConn, the glow of the fair behind them, leaving only the warmth of the moment to hold onto.

…

Long after Paige had “dropped” Azzi off following their first date, she found herself wandering into the gym. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about the court always drew her in. Spotting Azzi on the court dribbling, Paige couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself.

Azzi noticed her almost immediately, stopping mid-dribble with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Paige smirked, walking further onto the court. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Azzi shrugged as Paige closed the distance, casually swatting the ball out of her hand. Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Ah, there’s my annoying best friend.”

Paige laughed along, saying. “Ahh, so I’m ‘best friend Paige’ right now, huh?”

Azzi nodded, still grinning.

Paige raised an eyebrow, tilting her head dramatically. “Okay then, tell me something. I heard you went on a date tonight.”

Azzi chuckled at Paige’s antics, her laughter light and easy. “I did.”

Paige dribbled the ball a few times, casually lining up a close-range shot. “How was it?”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Ehh I was a little nervous at first, but I actually loved it.”

Paige glanced at her with a playful smirk. “Nervous? Why were you nervous?”

Azzi’s gaze softened as she shrugged, her voice quieter. “You know why.”

Paige arched an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Humor me.”

Instead of answering directly, Azzi pivoted the conversation. “I went on some dates when we weren’t talking, like you suggested.”

Paige paused mid-dribble, her curiosity piqued. “You did?”

Azzi nodded, fidgeting with her hands. “Yeah... with girls.”

Paige hummed at this as she resumed dribbling, her voice casual but interested. “How were they?”

Azzi shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “They were okay. It’s not like I was trying to figure out feelings for them... more so to figure out myself.”

Paige nodded, her gaze softening with a soft smile. “And?”

Azzi smiled faintly, her tone more serious now. “They helped. The conversation with my mom I was telling you about? A whole lot easier after that.”

Paige paused her dribbling to smile at Azzi, her voice full of warmth. “I’m proud of you, Az.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a small, grateful smile, the sincerity of Paige’s words lingering in the air.

Azzi met Paige’s gaze, her tone playful yet sincere. “There’s a little more attention that comes with going on a date with Connecticut’s version of Jesus though.”

Paige burst out laughing, tossing the ball softly at Azzi, who caught it with a grin.

Azzi continued, her voice shifting to something more serious. “I was nervous at first because I knew people would recognize us—mostly you. It’s a lot of extra attention.”

Paige nodded, her grin slowly growing as she listened.

Azzi tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”

Paige leaned casually against the wall, her grin turning a bit smug. “You know I picked the fair on purpose, right?”

Azzi’s brows furrowed. “No...”

Paige smirked, folding her arms. “It’s far enough from campus that we wouldn’t be recognized as much, but it’s also a Thursday, which means there weren’t going to be a lot of teenagers or people our age there. Just a bunch of kids with their parents or older people. People our age would usually go on Fridays or Saturdays.”

Azzi blinked, processing the thoughtfulness behind Paige’s planning.

Paige stepped closer, her voice softening. “I picked today because I knew anyone who approached us would either be a super-excited kid or an old-school basketball fan who wouldn’t care why it was just the two of us there together. I wanted it to be... easier for you.”

Azzi was stunned, her lips parting slightly as she stared at Paige. “You really thought that far ahead?”

Paige shrugged with a casual air, though her gaze was warm. “I know you, Az. I know how hard this is for you.”

Azzi laughed, her tone light again as she tried to hide how much Paige’s words meant to her. “If you knew what I was struggling with the whole time, why’d you let me make it seem like basketball was the only thing stopping me?”

Paige’s smile softened, her voice dropping just enough to convey her sincerity. “Because I needed to give you time. It’s not a realization someone else can process for you.”

The air between them shifted as Paige leaned casually against the wall, her height slightly towering over Azzi with the way they were standing. The space between them grew smaller without either of them noticing.

Azzi tilted her head up to look at Paige, her expression soft. “I miss your eyes,” she said quietly, almost as if the words slipped out without her permission.

Paige chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s always the first thing you say to me.” Her grin widened, teasing but fond.

Azzi didn’t bother denying it, her gaze unwavering. The weight of her words lingered in the air, pulling them closer in a way that had nothing to do with proximity.

After a moment, Azzi whispered, her tone playful but with a hint of nervousness, “I’m not letting you kiss me.”

Paige’s toothy grin grew, her confidence shining through. “That’s fine.” Her voice was low, carrying just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch.

But Paige didn’t move away. She stayed close, her presence overwhelming yet comforting, as she just took in Azzi standing in front of her.

Azzi didn’t respond, her lips quirking up just slightly. Instead, she shook her head with a quiet laugh, looking away but refusing to step back.

Paige finally stepped back, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. The sound lingered in the air, as she picked up a basketball and started dribbling casually.

Azzi rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag muttering, “I’m leaving.”

Paige’s laugh grew louder as she called after her, “See you later, princess!”

Azzi didn’t stop or turn around, but a faint smile spread across her face. She lifted her hand and stuck her middle finger up in response, a playful gesture that made Paige laugh even harder as Azzi walked out of the gym.

[pitchsidestories]

ex's and snow II Leah Williamson x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 3583

summary: a snow-covered hut in the Swiss Alps with a few good friends and ex-girlfriend Leah Williamson. Can the former lovers find each other again before the snow melts, or are they simply not meant to be together?

author's note: our first fanfic of 2025, we took our time and tried to make it a bit longer than usual and hope you like it.🥰🥰

The laughter got stuck in your throat when you saw your ex-girlfriend in the corridor.

Just seconds before, you were talking to Mariona and Ana Maria about a funny moment in the dressing room when you were all still playing for Barcelona. The short walk from the car to the cozy looking cottage had felt to you like a scene from the Last Christmas music video where good friends were having a good time together in a snow-capped cottage like this one was.

The magic of the enchanting setting was gone when you looked into the blue eyes of your former lover.

“Leah.”, you muttered in utter shock.

The looks she was sending you across the room were cold as the ice: ”You.”

Behind your back Mariona, Lia and Ana Maria stood silently as they watched the drama unfold in front of their eyes.

Both of your heads turned around to shot deadly glances at your mutual friend. “Keira Fae Walsh!”

“I didn’t do anything.”, she clarified, raising her hands innocently.

Slowly you shook your head: “No, you didn’t tell me she was going to be the surprise guest.”

“If I had known she would be here, I wouldn’t have come.”, Leah said spitefully.

The midfielder rolled her eyes in annoyance: “Stop whining, you both wanted to be included so I invited you both. You’ll survive.”

Knowing that there would only be three bedrooms and a sofa in the cabin plus two couples you turned hopeful to your former Barcelona teammate:” Ana we will share a room, right?”

“Sorry, you'll have to share.”, Ana Maria explained, destroying your hope for some peace in the night and nodding in the direction where your ex-girlfriend was sitting with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“What, no way!”, you protested.

A mischievous smile played on the Swiss woman’s lip: “Oh come on, you’ll survive. Keira and Lucy are exes and get along too.”

“That’s different.”, you told her. Their breakup has been smooth with no hard edges unlike yours with the England national team captain.

She quickly commented:” Yeah, they’ve a dog together.”

“Luckily, we never got a dog.”, you countered brusquely. Even though you were aware that ever since Lucy and Keira adopted the West Highland Terrier Narla the two of you dreamed of a dog yourself.

With an amused smile on her face Lia had followed your verbal duel until asking everyone cheerfully: “Before someone murders her ex-girlfriend and turns this into a cozy mystery, would anyone like a hot chocolate?”

“I do.”, Laura announced smiling, holding hands with the Barcelona midfielder. While Keira’s head rested on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Amor, I’d like one as well.”, Mariona beamed at her Swiss girlfriend.

Grinning, Lia kissed the Spaniard on the cheek:” Of course, I’ll make you one.”

Seeing the four being this in love with each other, showed through those simple gestures, was equally heartwarming to you as well as a bit painful, reminding you of your own singleness.

You tried to cover up your own feelings with a half-joke: “I think I’ll need something stronger than that to survive this weekend.”

Without missing a beat, Laura send you a smirk from across the room: “You can put something stronger into your hot chocolate. We came prepared.”

She got up from her seat next to Keira and opened a cabinet, revealing a surprisingly large collection of liquor bottles. Grabbing a bottle of Irish Cream, she came back and poured a generous amount into your hot chocolate.

You didn’t protest. You just smiled mischievously at her: “You’re the best.”

“It’s not my first winter vacation in a cabin.”, she winked back while pouring some alcohol into her own mug.

“I can tell. It’s quite cozy actually, except for that pouting blonde sitting next to your girlfriend.” You nodded towards Keira who had changed seats to sit next to Leah and was now whispering quietly to her.

Laura only raised a knowing eyebrow at you and grinned: “Don’t worry we can spike her drink too.”

“Oh, she’s horrible when she’s drunk. You should have seen her after the Euros final.”, you laughed, thinking back to the summer of 2022.

“Really?”

You nodded: “Yes, I think I’ve never deleted that video of her in our hotel room.”

Pulling out your phone to show Laura the video, you tried to fight back a fond smile. Everything had felt easier and lighter back then, not just because you won the tournament. Now, looking at the footage of a younger, more relaxed Leah pirouetting around the room, your heart started to ache again.

“Oh, that’s hilarious.”, Laura smiled as she watched your phone screen where Leah drunkenly fell over and pulled the curtains of the hotel room down with her. You both had had a few too many celebratory drinks that night and you really thought it was the funniest thing you had ever seen.

“She refused to fall sleep after that. No one slept for more than two hours that night.”, you continued to explain, the memories filling you with a nostalgic kind of happiness.

Laura laughed politely: “I heard some of those stories from Kei. It sounded like you all had a good time back then.”

“We did but then she changed so much… You know, the fame. Everything happened so fast afterwards.”

Your break-up had been like a tornado. It came suddenly and without warnings. All you knew back then was that Leah was busy with fashion stuff and advertisements and suddenly, she wasn’t your Leah anymore.

Lauras face turned serious, her eyebrows knotting together: “Wait, that was the reason you two broke up?”

“Yes.”

“I heard it was super messy.”, Mariona contributed to your conversation, sliding closer to you and away from the rest of the group.

“You can say that again.”, you sighed.

On the other side of the room, Keira and Leah had their own conversation.

“Kei, I’ll never forgive you.”, Leah hissed at her best friend.

“It’s not that bad, Leah.”

The defender rolled her eyes: “Sure, maybe for you.”

Keira groaned with frustration: “You’re so dramatic!”

Suddenly Leah decided: “I’ll lay down before dinner.”

“What about your hot chocolate?”, the midfielder frowned.

She had barely spoken the words when Lia handed the blonde a steaming cup that smelled deliciously of chocolate.

“Oh, thank you, Wally.”, she mumbled gratefully before sipping the hot drink.

With a warm smile the brunette promised: “Drink it, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“Does she magically go away after I finished drinking this too?”, Leah wanted to know from her in a hopeful tone.

Hearing that question Lia chuckled:” No.”

“Sad.”, she pouted, closing her eyes for dramatic effect, wishing you’d somehow disappear like you did in the past.

No complaining about her change since you were gone, no one saying that the fame did change her character not for the better, but for the worse.

Wasn’t the England captain so much happier now? Or did the ACL injury made her slow down again to be in the here and now, forcing her to be more selective of the time she had. If you had stayed with her longer, you’d have witnessed it firsthand. The only thing Leah was certain of was that you were the reason her thoughts were running wild.

Clearing her throat the Arsenal midfielder innocently suggested:” Maybe just try to be open for the situation.”

“I hate you both so much.”, the defender growled.

Still smiling Lia stated: “No you don’t.”

“What are we eating?”, Leah swiftly changed the topic.

Amused the Swiss woman lifted an eyebrow:” Why? Are you hangry?”

“Yes, I’m indeed very hangry.”, she confirmed.

Her Arsenal teammate couldn’t help but to start laughing about her dramatics: “Typical.”

Leah knew she wasn’t known for her cooking skills, so the blonde offered:” I’ll do the cleaning who’s going to cook?”

“I can cook.”, Mariona volunteered.

“I’ll help you with that, Mario.”, you responded, squeezing her shoulder slightly.  Back in Barcelona the two of you often cooked for your teammates, it was a passion you both shared and over the years you became a good team in the kitchen.

“And Leah and I’ll clean.”, Keira threw in.

As always, when the cooked food was on the table, it was eaten up far too quickly, at least you could see from the satisfied smiles on the faces of your friends that they had enjoyed it and the sight of it was what made you incredibly happy.

When the chatting and laughing was over, you all went to bed. As you closed the door behind you, you realized that you had to share the bedroom with none other than your ex-girlfriend, and to avoid her for a while longer, you stayed in the small bathroom for an extra-long time. 

You took a few deep breaths to brace yourself, watching yourself in the mirror as you did. You then changed into a pair of pyjama pants and an oversized shirt before exiting the bathroom.

Leah was already lying on her side of the bed, one hand on her flat stomach: “God, I’m so full.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes: “You never know when to stop.”

“It was too delicious.”, Leah shrugged, unbothered by the judgemental tone in your voice.

You didn’t feel like discussing with her so you just sighed: “I’m going to bed now.”

Leah watched as you climbed into your side of the kingsize bed and turned off the lights.

“Night.”

Sleep came surprisingly easy as soon as you were cozied up under the warm blanket. That was until someone gently shook you awake a few hours later. You didn’t open your eyes, you only managed to groan and bury yourself deeper into the sheets.

“Hey, I think the heater broke down… It’s s-so cold.”, Leah whispered, her teeth chattering with every other word.

“What?”, you yawned, too sleepy to understand anything she said.

“Can I get under your blanket? It’s freezing?”

Still half asleep, you lifted your blanket to let Leah crawl in. “Fine.”

”Thanks.”

Her shivering body pressed against your side, the two blankets laying in a big pile on top of the two of you. Leah felt so cold next to you that you had to pull her in, willingly sharing your body heat with her. “Come closer.”

The defender wrapped her arms around you, her skin icy against yours: “How is your body so hot?”

“Don’t know. You tell me.”, you grinned with your eyes closed.

Leah snorted about that before turning serious again: “No, really. You’re not getting a cold, are you?”

“Not with you warming me.”, you continued to joke.

“Good because Arsenal needs their captain.”

Finally you turned to your side, directly facing her: “Oh, so you should survive and I can freeze to death?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Just that we both can’t get sick right now.”

You nodded slightly: ”Okay, that’s fair.”

The winter break would end soon and neither of you wanted to miss out on training.

You both went quiet for a short moment.

“I saw that… you played a great Champions League campaign so far.”, Leah suddenly admitted quietly into the dark.

You took those words in, unsure what to do with them.

“Are you saying you still watch my games?”

“Sometimes I do.”, she confessed quietly. But the blonde didn't add, because of Keira or Ellie, so you wondered if that included you.

However, you were too afraid to ask her about it and instead teased her about her beloved club: “ I couldn’t get myself to watch Arsenal this season, the beginning of their WSL campaign was so depressing.”

“Excuse me?”, she huffed, her figure looming over you.

Amused, you stifle a smile, it was very easy to wind her up: “Yeah, okay, Keira told me it got better after your female coach took over.”

“Yes, it did.”, Leah confirmed matter-of-factly.  

Even though you could feel her intense gaze on you, you began to feel sleepy: “That’s great for you, you must be very happy right now.”

“Sure, believe that.”, the defender smiled sadly, which you didn’t see anymore because your eyes were already closed.

You slipped softly into sleep.

The next morning, Ana tugged gently on her friend's upper arm:” Come on, Kei. We shouldn't wake them up yet, they look so cosy.”

“Look at how tight Leah is holding on to her. She was totally lying about having no feelings for her anymore.”, the midfielder observed.

Her girlfriend continued:” And the one who’s laying in her arms hasn’t let go off their shared past either otherwise she wouldn’t keep videos with Leah on her phone.”  

“Let them sleep. Let’s go and make breakfast.”, Lia spoke up.

Glancing at the Swiss Woman Mariona’s face lit up while she talked: “I could really need a coffee or two to be fair.”

“Me too.”, Keira replied.

The Spaniard cheerfully concluded: “Time to get the coffee machine going then.”

“On it.”, Lia answered in a good mood.

The smell of ground coffee beans and the golden rays of the sun touching your face and hers woke you both up.

“It smells of coffee.”, you mumbled happily.

Leah shook her head in amusement: “I hope they made some tea as well.”

“Ugh, I’ll never understand how anyone can hate coffee.”, you remarked.

She immediately countered:” And I will never fall victim to the coffee addiction that you all obviously suffer from.”

The two of you made their way to the open kitchen, where your friends were already there. Their faces were illuminated by the morning light, an open window was letting in some fresh mountain air while they were almost done with preparing the breakfast for an adventurous day ahead.

“Good morning, girls.”, the Arsenal captain greeted them smiling, hugging Lia from behind.

The brunette returned her grin:” Morning. I guess that means no coffee for you?”

“Oh, yes is that tea for me?”, she hummed delighted.

“Yes.”, Mariona confirmed as she pushed the steaming mug towards the blonde defender.

Leah took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the tea before she wrapped her hands around it: “Amazing.”

“You’re welcome.”

After taking a sip from her steaming hot drink, Leah looked at the group in front of her: “So what are we doing on our first full day here?”

“Skiing!”, Laura beamed at her.

You saw Keiras eyes widen nervously in the background, and you had to stop yourself from laughing.

“Yes, it’ll be so fun. For the ones who don’t know how to do that we have sledges.”, Lia explained patiently.

You knew exactly what that meant. Laura, Lia and Ana would enjoy their time on the ski slopes while the rest of you were stuck with sledges.

Leah didn’t seem too excited about that plan: “Just great.”

To lighten the mood and to spite Leah, you asked the group: “Sledge race anyone?”

“I’m in!”, Mariona nodded quickly.

Leah rolled her eyes which usually would have offended you if it weren’t for the way the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile: “Such children.”

Mariona and you got up from the table, ready to get dressed for a day in the snow.

In the meantime, Lia leaned over to her teammate and whispered: “You should talk with one of those children later if you ask me.”

“Shut it, Lia.”, the defender replied.

“No, deep down you know I’m right.”

“No.”

“Yes.”, Keira finally said, raising on eyebrow at her best friend.

“Guys.”, Leah sighed with a pleading tone which was deliberately ignored by her friends.

“Just trust us, Lee.”

“No.”

This time it was Keira who sighed with frustration: “I wish you two weren’t as stubborn.”

“We’re not.”, Leah said cooly and got up from the table, ending the conversation abruptly.

No one said anything about it for the rest of the day. You were too busy playing in the snow. The sledge racing quickly turned into a snowball fight which then turned into you all trying to build a snowman together until the sun set.

Your face and hands still felt frozen when you returned to your bedroom in the cabin. With a tired but satisfied sigh, you let yourself fall onto the bed.

“You look pretty done.”, Leah smirked as she pulled her cold, wet sweater off of her body.

You tried your best not to look so you stared at the ceiling: “In my defense, it was a long day and my manager just called to tell me that I have to leave early tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving again?”

You frowned. Was there actually a slight hint of disappointment in your exes’ voice?

You must have imagined that.

“Yeah… I have to go.”, you confirmed.

“Oh.”, she sounded disappointed.

You suspected with a heavy heart: “I bet you’ll be happy to have one day without me.”

Much to your both surprise the blonde revealed: “Actually I was just getting used to you.”

“Used to me?”, you repeated, puzzled.

The England captain shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly:” Yeah. You’re less annoying than I remember.”

“Excuse me? You’re way more annoying than me.”, you quickly corrected her. In a serious tone you reminded your former girlfriend:” You were the one who had to attend every event, take each interview, miss out on date nights and our friends’ parties.”

As she listened to your accusations, Leah wrapped her arms around herself protectively. “Because I had to, not because I wanted to.”, the defender clarified earnestly.

You remembered loudly, the memories of your breakup returning to you in waves:” You didn’t even cry when I left.”

“What would that have changed?”, your ex-girlfriend asked.

Your voice trembled with both anger and sadness: “It would have shown that you cared about us!”  

“I did care!”, Leah hissed back.

You snorted in disbelief: “Sure, Leah.”

“Okay, fine. Believe whatever you want, you’re gone tomorrow anyway.”, she waved it off.

“You were serious.”, you realized.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips: “Of course I was.”

“Do you think we were together at the wrong time and place?”, you questioned cautiously.

The Arsenal player took the time to think thoroughly about your question before replying: “Maybe we were.”

“Who knows, right?”

“Not us. If we could just go back in time.”, Leah begun with a longing expression on her face.

You promptly interrupted her:” But we can’t. It’s impossible until time travel is possible.”

“Obviously.”, she said annoyed.

“Don’t eye roll at me, Leah Catherine.”, you warned her with a half-crooked smile on your lips.

The defender cheekily raised an eyebrow: “Or what?”

“Or I’m afraid I’ll have to shut you up somehow.”, you explained.

Leah nervously ran her hand through her loose hair, which shone silvery in the moonlight. “Somehow? You used to do that by..”, the blonde reminisced.

“Kissing you, yes.”, you ended the sentence for her. The air was full of anticipation.

She moistened her dry lips: “You’re not trying to do that, right?”

“What if I did?”, you boldly posed.

“But what about tomorrow?”, the defender pointed out.

You returned her gaze with the same intensity: “I told you I’ll leave.”

“We shouldn’t waste more time then.”, Leah decided, her face only centimetres from yours.

Before you could reply, her lips were on yours. Your heart skipped a beat and for a moment it almost felt like nothing had changed since the last time she had kissed you like that. Your brain went to autopilot, your body took over. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pulled her closer. Your kisses grew hungrier, more impatient. Despite the knowledge that she was your ex, your body ached for her. You wanted her right then and there.

Apparently, Leah felt the same way when she pushed you back on your shared better, her lips never leaving yours. It was almost muscle memory how your hands slid under her sweater, caressing the body that you knew so well. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it.

The next morning, you stayed in bed as long as possible, sneaking kisses and holding hands on your way downstairs for breakfast. Before you entered the kitchen, you kissed Leah one last time on bottom step. Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched through the ajar kitchen door.

“Girls, look!”, Ana said from her seat on the kitchen table.

“What?”, Lia asked as she appeared in the open door, leaving the scrambled eggs unattended on the stove.

Keira pushed the other midfielder aside so she could see what was going on: “Didn’t she want to leave already?”

“I heard her call her management this morning to tell them we were still snowed in.”, Mariona explained, smiling knowingly into her coffee.

This caused a few gasps in the kitchen.

Only then you realized that you were being watched. You didn’t mind, you already knew that this was their plan all along.

Nobody said anything when you sat down at the table, they were trying their best to act casual and went on to prepare breakfast. You subtly reached for Leahs hand under the table. She smiled at you but your attention was directed towards the snowflakes drifting past the window.

A big part of you was hoping that your lie turned into reality, that the snowfall would be getting worse and you would have a few more days here.

But for now, you were comforted by the thought that you had your Leah back.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/tracksuitlesbian/769781520922755072?source=share

[madamechrissy]

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x F!reader Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Very emotional at first, but then it lightens up and gets sweet. Light angst, heavy at the beginning, forgiveness and trying for each other, a little jealousy and hurt, lots of kissing, fingering, oral (f recieving), lots of sexual tension and feelings

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10k (long one)

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoy- A/N- I attempt to write a song, I am sure I failed be nice abt it lol! ✨️

Chapter Four 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Five

It has been two weeks since you spoke or saw Choso. He finally stopped texting and calling a few days ago, finally stopped showing up at your work every morning with that cup of coffee that you asked your coworkers to take instead. You don't even look or respond to him, it's too far gone, it's too much.

You don't respond to Satoru either, he was clearly there for fun, which is fine but you can't believe what you've done. After being so set on sex being this end all be all, Ino’s dumping you so soon after clearly fucked you up, and hopping in bed with Choso had been the biggest mistake.

You are out with Utahime at the club, dancing together and giggling, enjoying her so much, even as you miss Choso like you live and breathe. It's all too much, and you don't know if you can ever repair what has happened, to undo the tangled mess you both had become.

You're not putting fault all on him, but you're still hurt by him. You didn't go to his concert, you hate yourself for that, but it would hurt too much to see. You sent good luck necklaces to the three of them with a note saying you were sick (you especially hate to let the boys down too) but there's not much hope for it, not when you can't stomach facing him.

If you never kissed him, you maybe could have lived your life just fine, if you never had him look at you that way, if you never slept in his arms, you could have said it was friendship. But now, even your strong, fourteen year friendship is hopelessly gone.

Take a shot.

Dance.

Laugh 

Take a shot.

Take a selfie with Utahime.

Dance more.

Laugh.

Hollow laughter, laughter that rings just wrong, your eyes aren't as bright when you look in the mirror, but you think you can puzzle together the pieces.

Men flirt.

You ignore it.

Have a drink now.

Dance under the strobe lights.

Laugh.

You're almost human, or at least you're pretending to be, and it almost works, buzzed off your ass and dancing with her helps, giggling as you all walk out in your heels to your ride helps. Taking more selfies and giggling at the reacting on Insta helps, you feel good…

Well, almost.

Choso haunts all of your damn thoughts, it’s like you can’t even imagine things before him, like this gaping hole in your chest. You are tipsy when you get home, images flash as you walk through the door, Choso holding you against it, him on his knees in front of you. Then more images of Satoru, which make you sick.

You never thought actually doing something with the guy you had it bad for since forever would bring you down so badly, it made everything snap into place, things that didn’t make any sense in your mind. It was never just sex with Choso, not from the moment he kissed you and called you beautiful, because you know what ‘just sex’ is, Choso was beyond it.

Now there was nothing left between you.

Choso hearts your pictures, and something shifts, something almost makes you sick about it, not talking to him. You crave to just forgive and forget, to act like this friendship is fixable, to act unbothered, but you can’t just go back now. The decision was made when he first kissed you on that couch, when his tongue ring clicked on your teeth, when his big hands brushed against your waist.

You see his IG is Amber free, and hers is Choso free. You don't know what that means but you can't bring yourself to care anymore, you'd tried to make any sense of any of this and have failed. When you think too much about it, about your decisions, you sob so hard your eyes burn, your cheeks sticky.

You wash your face, put your hair up into a bun, you go back to all of your routines, without Cho Bear things don't really bring you the same joy, but finally you think you can let some of the heartache mend. Snatching up a book and your favorite plush, you snuggle on the couch, buzzed and dizzy. Luckily Satoru doesn't bother you, just a dick pic here and there, you roll your eyes at him.

He was good at what he did, fuck he was real good, but it was not what you wanted, it was what you thought you had to do, to prove something to yourself, that you were inexperienced and overthinking it. But, you were wrong. Choso pushes you to your worst, and you just can't let it continue, you can’t be that girl.

Choso calls, you go to hang up and accidentally hit answer, cursing quietly, hearing the hope in his voice as he says your name.

“What is it?” You ask, tone soft but cold, you haven't talked and don't want to.

“I know you hate me, and I don't blame you. You should.” You tear up as you hear his voice breaking. 

“I don't hate you, I just can't be in your life. I'm sorry.” You sniffle, hiccuping on a cry when you set your book down.

“Will we ever be friends again?”

“I don't think so, but it's not all your fault. We both fucked up.” Choso sighs over the phone, you imagine him in your mind's eye. Sexy and shirtless maybe? Low hanging sweats? Is his hair loose and long?

“I haven't talked to Amber. I never will again.” You blink now.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does! It does. What I did was horrible to you.”

“It's over now. Don't dwell on this. I have to go.”

“Please, please… anything I could do to make you smile again. I hate that I caused this.” You sigh shakily as you hear his crying over the phone. It almost gets to you.

“I'm okay, I promise. Choso I'll always care, I'll always be rooting for you-”

“Please, please… please forgive me.”

“I do. I'm not angry. I'm sad.” You cover your face, choking on your sobs as he does. “I don't hate you not one bit.”

“I hate myself.” You shake your head and can't stop the sobs from wracking your body.

“I know that feeling well.” You both take a breath, both hating what you've lost. “But I promise I don’t hate you, I couldn’t. Take care, please.” Your voice is just a whisper, but he hears you.

“Please, anything, I will do anything, let me make it up. Let me fix it!? I know I'm stupid, I know I was wrong. Please.” His heartbreak in his voice makes it crack over the phone, you’re devastated then.

“Just let it go, okay? Let it go.”

“I don’t want to let you go. I-”

“Good night.” You hang up quickly, cutting off whatever words could wreck your resolve, your hands violently shaking, you press them between your thighs, staring as the phone rings.

Cho Bear.

Will you miss him forever?

*****

It’s been three weeks since you last spoke to Choso now, he quit calling finally, it’s sort of like it was when you were with Ino, when you two couldn’t keep your friendship, but it’s worse because you know what you could have. God, to have even been able to go on a date with him? To imagine building something so beautiful, but instead you’ve ruined it all.

You’re shocked when Megumi and Yuuji are knocking on your door, you stand there still when Yuuji barrels you with a big hug. You sigh, hugging him back, Megumi snakes an arm around you after as well, you almost tear up a bit, thinking of how close all four of you have been so long.

“I missed you two.” You say softly, shutting the door then. “What brings you all over here?”

Yuuji swipes a hand through his pastel locks. “What did Cho do so bad that it’s been three weeks of you ignoring him?”

“Yuuji…” Megumi says with a sigh, dark eyes looking at you seriously. “What he means to say is Choso misses you, bad.”

“He’s so depressed he won’t even play.” You blink at that, looking away then.

“Won’t play? When has Choso not played?”

“He won’t even leave his room aside from work.” Megumi says, your heart breaks further and further.

“I… we can’t be friends. I’m sorry, you two.”

“What, why!? You’ve been friends almost my entire life? As long as I can remember.”

“Yuuji…”

“Did you two…” Megumi trails off, you blush furiously then. “Oh.”

“Oh what? Did what?” Yuuji’s voice annoys Megumi clearly then.

“Tch, just stop.” He looks at you now, seriously. “Is it that bad?”

You nod quietly, sighing and shutting your eyes. “He wouldn’t wanna see me anyway.”

“That’s not true, not at all. Please, just come over, you don’t even have to hang out with him, just let him see you.” Yuuji begs, yanking on her hand now, pulling you towards him so his hands can rest on your shoulders. “You’re his best friend in the world, you can’t just not be one anymore.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Your tears start running before you can stop them, Yuuji frowns, Megumi brushes a hand up and down your back. “I don’t think me and Cho can fix it.”

“So start new.” Megumi’s voice stuns you. “Start fresh, whatever happened you two can get over it. Have you never had problems, fights?”

“Of course we have. I… I’m scared to even face him.” You cover your face and start crying then, letting the weeks of despair fall out with tears as they comfort you. “Guys I can’t.”

“Just spend time with all of us. I know it would brighten his day, you don’t know how bad it is.” Yuuji’s voice breaks just a bit, and then you realize, Choso must be hurting as much as you are.

“Let me get myself together and I’ll head over.” You say with a small smile, emotional as you think of seeing him again.

Could you all ever go back to being friends, when you are so in love with him… love, yes.

Love.

You’re hopelessly in love with your former best friend, how would you play it casual, how could you even face him?

*****

Choso can’t stand not seeing you, not hearing your voice or your little laugh, god he misses your scent, your presence, your everything. Even if he couldn’t see you, he used to swing by and give you that coffee, and you turned every cup down, not even acknowledging him. The heartbreaking call last week had him finally giving up, realizing he had done too much damage.

How could he hurt you like this?

He thinks back now, to all the signals you gave, to all the clues where he has been so clueless. Choso never got attention from girls, a shy guy, a nerdy guy, it’s been the past couple of years he’s gotten popular with his band. He didn’t realize Amber was that insane over him so quickly, and even so, he saw that hurt on your face before the incident in the car.

He told you one thing but did another, and of course you’re done with him, of course you probably went home with Gojo that night, how could he blame you? There you were, painting things clearly, and here he was, not understanding a thing you meant, like the words couldn’t compute, he couldn’t fathom you felt that way.

Choso has barely left his home for the past three weeks, but for the past week he has barely left his room, guitars unplayed, notebooks left unwritten and sprawled all around his room. He can barely eat or think of anything but you, aching to call you, to see you, but he knows he can’t anymore, he knows he’d just be doing more damage, how could he be so foolish?

The doors open of his room and he grimaces then, as his little brother keeps trying to energetically get him out of the house, to give him all this hope that you two could make up, as if it’s even possible. He blinks and covers his face with his plaid blanket.

“Go away.”

“Cho?” He hears your voice then, making him jump up out of bed, sheets all rumpled and a mess, thinking he’s dreaming.

But you’re there.

You’re here.

Your eyes look just a little puffy, your lips trembling as you see him, he tries to smooth his hair, knowing he probably looks terrible, he hasn’t even showered in days he’s just rotted away. Choso struggles to pull himself together, walking towards you then, and he sees it, you’re trembling, as if you can’t even handle this, seeing him again.

But he was wrong.

When you see him like this, a whole mess and so depressed, it destroys your heart, you can’t take it, even as much as you both had messed up here, he was your closest friend in the world. He was always by your side through your heartbreaks, and you were by his side, and now? You were both suffering alone, and for what, for the fear of not forgiving each other?

Choso doesn’t even know what you’ve done, he doesn’t know you were just as bad as him, maybe worse. No, you two don’t date, but it felt wrong, what both of you did, especially in your heart, you didn’t do it for fun, you did it for some petty sense of revenge, and now it’s hard to face him, but you do. You face your best friend who looks like a mess, with his eyes glimmering with tears.

It’s quiet then, Megumi clears his throat. “Let’s give you both a minute, maybe you can make him shower?”

Yuuji nods. “Please do.”

They leave, shutting the door to Choso’s room, a room the last time you were in that he had sex with you, but was it sex? Or did he make love to you?

How he’d stared into your eyes, cupped your face so gently, how he’d asked every moment if things felt good, if you were okay. The memories make you ache, and not just physically, they make you ache for all of him, for his sweet smile again, for him to just hold you in his arms. You’re just standing there, and so is he, you both open your mouths, then shut them.

He’s clenching his fists, stepping closer now, terrified you’ll just run away, but you don’t. You stay there, looking at him, as he feels emotions in his throat, as the tears begin to fall. He steps a little closer, and you let him, giving him the silent go ahead to approach you further, your chest rising and falling with your breaths as they come faster and faster.

Another step, and your boots are toe to toe with his bare feet, and Choso is looking down at you, his hands hovering just above your shoulders, as if he’s scared to touch you. You feel the sobs building in your chest now, not a word is spoken, but seeing your best friend who you love in tears, along with your own regrets makes you break apart.

“You’re here.” He says your name then, and you break into tears when he pulls you against him for a hug, those tight ones in his strong arms you’ve loved forever, you feel so safe, so right. He’s stroking your hair, pressing you against his chest as your arms wrap his chest. “I didn’t know if I’d… if I’d… see you…”

He’s sobbing out his words, you look up through your tears, seeing him, his stubble, his dark circles as you sniffle. “I’m here, Cho.”

“Feel like I’m dreaming of you.” He squeezes you so tightly, but you crave it, you love it, against him finally.

The room is quiet, aside from both of you quietly crying, sniffling and laughing softly when you look at each other. “You do need a bath, gosh.”

“Hush.” He’s smiling, that heartbreakingly sweet smile you’ve come to love, but you have to pull back a bit, taking a breath, eyes fluttering shut when he cups your face, like you’re precious. “I missed your pretty face.”

“Did you?” You tease softly, opening your eyes, burning from tears.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I am sorry I didn’t listen, that I hurt you.” You feel almost sick now, shaking your head. “I fucked it all up, I did-”

“We both did. I have to tell you something.” He nods then, shoving aside a bunch of things to clear you a seat in his gaming chair, pulling you by it, arms on either side of you as he sits on the bed.

“Anything.”

You take a breath, hoping it will help you, but you feel sick thinking of it. “I was intimate with Gojo.”

Choso blinks long lashes, frowning before nodding. “I figured, that night maybe you slept with him?” He tries to hide the hurt in his voice, but fails.

“I didn’t have sex but… um… oral.” You feel like sinking into the goddamn carpet below you, Choso clears his throat, looking away for a moment.

“I figured so, but was it because you wanted to? Was it because he’s Gojo, an old fling? Was it… for fun? Or… was it because I pushed you there?” His heartbreak is so clear it affects you physically, you’re shifting in the seat, fiddling with your hair, sighing nervously.

“It was my decision, but it was based on seeing her with you, it hurt so bad, but it’s no excuse. I acted on impulse and felt awful.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t feel bad, please.”

“Cho I… we…”

“It’s because of me.”

“It’s not!”

“You always try to defend me, even when I’m wrong, and I was so wrong here. You tried to tell me.”

You’re nodding through more tears, he rests his forehead on yours, as you both take shaky breaths. “I did try to tell you, but now I don’t know what to do, how can we go back to how it was?”

“I don’t know but I’ll do anything, be anything for you.” Your eyes lock, his a glittering violet, dark sooty lashes wet and spiky over them.

“Maybe we should start new?” You ask softly.

“As friends?”

“I don’t know, maybe something else.” Your brace yourself for impact, but his next words fill you with so much hope.

“How about… we go on a date.”

“A date?” You blink in confusion.

“A date, me and you, I am asking you on a date. A real one, a proper one, and we get to know each other as… maybe more.” Your heart races then, you feel it, the giddiness at the thought, but then the guilt.

“You wanna date me? After what I did?” Your voice is breaking, you’re no better than him really, maybe you’re worse? What he did casually, you did in retaliation.

“Oh, sweetie…” He brushes your hair back gently, it feels so good, so perfect then, in his room, with his touch. “You did nothing wrong to me, I think it felt wrong for you though?”

“It felt wrong, so wrong. I hate myself for it.” You’re just a breath away from his lips, but both of you hold that inch apart, you bite your lower lip, his eyes dart to it, but he stays that distance.

“What you did makes sense, I’m just sorry I made you feel you had to. I don’t want games, or hurting each other anymore, please. Let’s just have a date, and if you like me, we’ll do another.” You giggle then, the sound makes his heart swell, it makes him so fucking happy, to see how it lights up your face, even as he brushes tears away, thumbs with faded black polish barely on.

“So we’re going to take things slow?” You whisper, hands gliding up his chest, making him tense then.

“Yes, you deserve slow, you deserve to be treated right, and to choose what you want. If it’s me or not, I think we should try, what’s here, this connection? It’s…”

“Epic.” He smiles then, nodding, thumb brushing against your jaw now.

“I’d die to kiss you but I’d like to earn it, please.”

“It better be something nice, now. And you’re paying.” He grins, you’re wiping his tears now, running your hand through his dark messy locks.

“I’ll pay, don’t worry. Will you wear something that shows off that perfect body of yours?”

“I could be persuaded to. But you’ll be a gentleman.”

He nods, holding your little hand over his chest. “I will be.”

You feel it, the flutters in your tummy, at the thought of something like this, it seems so silly, but you’re giddy, hopeful. “So we’re… gonna go on a date.”

“Tonight.”

“You absolutely need to shower then, I can’t with all this.” You tease, he pulls you against him tightly, kissing your cheek, your temple, hugging you just so, you feel his heartbeat on your cheek.

“I wish you could get in there, fuck I miss every bit of you.” He exhales, you feel his words hit your core, you’re aching now, clinging to him.

“I miss it too.” You look back up now at him, smiling as you both just sit there, quietly. “I’m sorry Choso.”

“I’m sorry, angel. So sorry.” You nod, trying to pull yourself together then, brushing your cheeks with shaky hands. “I will not ever let you down again, even if you hate this date, even if you decide we should be acquaintances, just any part of your life you have me in, I’ll follow.”

“Shh.” You kiss his cheek now, cheeks that tinge pink under the light brush of your lips. “You text the time, and I’ll be ready. Oh, and you better shave.”

“I will.” You smile so pretty at him, as Choso’s mind whirls once you leave. A date with you, he needs it to be perfect.

You came to him, you were real.

Yuuji and Megumi burst in now, and Choso has this silly grin on his face, much to their relief. “You better not fuck this date up.”

“You all were listening!?”

“Just to some of it! Choso!”

Megumi snorts. “He’s gonna kill you, Yuuji.”

*****

Choso pulls up in his little Mustang, you stand there so nervous in the night, having gone over twenty outfits before landing on a little black dress, you figure you can’t go wrong with that. It’s lacy on the chest, it cinches just so in the waist and flares out flirtatious, along with a black jacket since the night has a chill. You see his mouth drop when he gets out of the car, making you flush.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says softly, like he’s in awe, it makes you feel beautiful then, Choso makes you feel so much, like you are so special.

“You look handsome, Cho.” You smile up at him, taking in his black dress shirt and slacks, fitting his muscled frame so sexy. “I’ve never seen you dressed up like this? Where’d you get these?”

“Put away from a wedding.” He admits, you giggle then, the sound brightening his world, as he takes in your gorgeous face. “Your makeup is beautiful too.”

“Oh thank you! Youtube tutorial.” He grins, brushing his fingers along the backs of your cheek then.

“You nailed that shit.”

“I missed the fuck out of you.” He nods, leaning so close, dying to kiss you, but you deserve the night, a night all about you, to take it slow, so he pecks a kiss on your hand, taking it in his. “Gentleman Cho?”

“Mmhmm. My lady.” He teases, your pulse flutters in your throat as he opens the car door for you now, making a show of dramatically bowing. His hand is on your thigh when he’s driving, yours brushes the backs of his knuckles, so much still left unsaid between you, but the comfort of each other overpowers it.

“Where are we going, Sir?” He exhales, not able to handle you calling him Sir because fuck the thoughts going through his head are insane now.

“We’ll be there soon, I think you’ll like it though?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Me too.” He admits, looking at you as the lights of cars drive by, reflecting against your pretty face as he drives you through the night, catching each one of your features just so every time. “Breathtaking.”

“Oh stop.” He hums a bit, big hands squeezing your thigh gently, thumb brushing along your inner thigh now, you shift just a bit. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being so pretty.”

“Whatever, you’re too much.” You roll your eyes and his laugh fills the car. “I hated it, Cho, being apart.”

He exhales now, grip tightening. “God, me too. I couldn’t bear it, not at least seeing you for that one minute in the morning, it hurt.”

You feel the pain in his voice, no matter how much he tries to hide it from you. “I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay, angel. I understand. You’re probably still hurting, but you’re here.”

“I am here. Terrified.”

“Me too.” Choso pulls up now, and you see it, a beautiful boat in the night, making you gasp at it.

“What!? Oh gosh, I expected a movie?”

“I thought we could have dinner here and just… talk? Relax together? Enjoy the view.” You nod excitedly, and soon you’re walking along the planks, alongside couples strolling arm and arm, Choso watches you carefully, as the breeze blows your hair around your face.

You look like art to him.

You are art to him.

“It’s gorgeous here my god!” Your hands are on the railing, looking up at the clear night sky, the gentle waves of the ocean rolling. Choso can’t keep his eyes off of you, when he agrees.

“Gorgeous.” You look to him then, heating up at his insinuation, at the way he’s looking at you so sweetly, so enamored. “I never meant to make you…”

“It’s fine, Cho.”

“No.” He tilts your chin up, with two long fingers, making you look up at him now. “I never meant to make you feel less than. Not good enough, or worthy enough, you’re worth everything.”

“Gonna make me cry right now?” You whisper, lips trembling, he aches to brush them against his, aches to make every part of you covered in his kisses.

“Just know I appreciate this night, even if it's only once.”

“Hush, Cho bear.” The nickname, so silly and cute, hits him with the nostalgia, of all the years you both were the best of friends, giggling and spending every moment together.

“I’ll hush then, let’s go eat.”

You find yourself across the table from him, you’re nervously eyeing the menu, eyes bulging out. “This is too much.”

“Stop it, please? I did really well for myself with the last show.” You hate that mention then, that you didn’t go. “Don’t be upset about it, I get it. We got your gifts which were very sweet you know.”

“I wanted to go so badly.” You look away, taking a breath, then he’s yanked his seat, dragging it across the floor with a screech, next to you, and you love it, his thigh brushing against yours, his sweet smile.

“It’s okay, I understand. I do. I know you have supported me always, I don’t know if I let you realize how much I appreciated it.”

“I can’t cry, I have on eyelashes, stop.” Choso laughs softly, leaning close and pulling up your menus.

“I’ve never gone on any kind of date to a fancy place, I wanted this to be with you, okay? It’s nothing. But…” He whispers then. “I have no clue what any of this stuff is?”

“Me either! No pictures!?” You lean over then to a couple near you, they smile at you both. “Any advice?”

“I picked the filet mignon, at least I knew the word.” She says, you giggle, nodding then and peeking at Cho.

“That one?” Soon you’re giving the waitress your order, and you can’t help but notice that she’s flirting with him, but instead of how he’d usually be sweet and hopelessly clueless, he wraps an arm around your waist, as if showing that he’s here with you.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in one gesture.

Ino picking his ex over you, Satoru having picked random girls over you, and a serious lack of dating has made your shitty limited experience have you extra insecure, something you realized this past month. Choso even just calling you his friend, though it was true, had hurt deeply once you were intimate.

You’re trying to take it slow, one moment at a time, but god he feels so good, against you, with you. He’s cutting at your steak and feeding you little bites, you both sip wine and just enjoy each other as the boat sways through the water. It’s unlike any date you’ve had, you don’t have to get to know him, don’t have to impress him. He’s Choso Kamo, the man you’ve adored forever.

“So it’s a date, what’s your favorite color?” He teases, you snort in laughter, rolling your eyes.

“Oh stop like you haven’t known since middle school, it’s blue. What’s your favorite color, emo boy, black?”

“Emo boy!?” You are both losing it with laughter, with his every little touch, his sweet smile, he carves his damn place further in your heart.

The dessert comes, a chocolate lava cake with a scoop of ice cream, and you laugh at his messy eating, the way he gets chocolate on the corner of his mouth. “You’re so messy.”

“So were you, I remember.” His husky tone makes your mouth drop open, desire clutching you tightly, especially when he licks it off, you can’t help but remember the taste of him, the feeling of his body against yours, the way that tongue just fucking did things.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the thoughts away. “Not gentlemanly, now is it?”

“It’s not, I’m sowwy.” He gives you puppy dog eyes, and you can’t take how cute he is then. You laugh softly, wiping a smudge of chocolate from his face with your thumb. “What’s so funny?” He asks, licking his lips.

“You are.” You reply, unable to stop smiling.

“Am I?” You nod, he’s so close then, his hand on your thigh under the table cloth, you have insane thoughts, what would it be like for him to play with you, right here?

“Shit.”

“Shit what?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, running fingers through your locks now.

“Open up.” Why does everything sound so attractive!? You do as he commands, opening your mouth for him to fork a piece of the chocolate cake, you chew thoughtfully as he watches you with avid attention. 

“Food on my face?”

“N-no. Just so pretty.” He’s blushing now, it takes everything not to completely melt, but you’re still a little scared, a little hurt.

When he’s driving you back and you’re in the car, it also takes everything not to jump him then and there, not to let everything overwhelm you. His hand rests on your knee, smiling over at you when you pull up, the tension is still there, the words so unspoken, you want to say more, do more, but you know you shouldn’t yet.

“Would you like to go to our concert this weekend? I would really love it if you came… I may have a surprise I’m working on.”

“I’d love to, Cho. I miss seeing you guys.”

“Megumi and Yuuji really miss you too.” The guilt eats at you, Choso notices, frowning, dark brows drawn together. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad, they understand somewhat.”

“We fucked up so bad.” You blink rapidly, suddenly the car is too small, your hand going to the handle. “I should say good night.”

“Let me.” Choso is opening your door then, taking your hand in his, and you feel it, those butterflies swirling in your tummy, the desire for him in every way possible, as you give him a little tremulous smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“You can indeed, Sir.” You’re smiling so big you can’t stand it, you both are on your porch now, your hand still in his, which he brings to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. “You’re like an Emo Disney Prince, Cho.”

“A what!?” You’re giggling again and he snorts in laughter, covering his face. He laughs so hard, and soon you’re just both laughing, looking at each other. He cups your face then, making your pulse race, your laughter easing now, as you stare at him. “You look so beautiful like this.”

“Snorting in laughter?” You ask with a quirk to your lips, he nods then, brushing his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

“Much better than tears.” There is so much between you both, a part of you wants to run inside and hide, another part wants to drag him in and kiss every part of him, but your hand goes to his chest, feeling his heart racing just like yours, just feeling him, being with him.

“I love seeing you smile. I can’t believe we ruined it.” Your whisper breaks him, he shakes his head then, leaning even lower.

“We didn’t ruin anything, maybe we… changed things?”

“You think? Can you… forgive me too?”

“Oh angel, there’s nothing to forgive. We both made a mess of this and hurt each other, but I never once was mad at you.” You step even closer now, swallowing nervously, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck now, one of his arms wraps your waist. 

 “Thank you for a beautiful evening, Choso Kamo.” You murmur, a little smile on your lips.

“Thank you for being you.” He whispers, the warmth of his palm seeping through your dress, making you gasp at it, just the brush of his fingers down your back ends you damn near. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath against your skin, waiting for it, waiting for his kiss.

But he just watches you, with your lips pursed, and your eyes shut, his heart fucking stopped now. He knew it, that he loved you, he had suspected it for so long, but then and there he knew he was madly in love with you. Part of him wants to give you a sweet kiss, the other wants to fuck you so good you forget Gojo ever touched you, warring parts in his mind.

His thumb tilts your chin up, and he pauses. “May I kiss you?”

Your eyes open in surprise. “You may.”

As his lips brush against yours, it’s at first sweet and lingering, but then it is like a spark ignites a flame, a passionate desperate kiss that you both crave forms, tongues dancing together, tasting the sweetness of the desert on both of your lips, the tart of the wine, and tasting each other.

Your hands are in his hair, his arms around your waist as he bends over you, you’re both lost in it, lost in each other. His thumbs trace little circles on the small of your back, making you arch into him, his kisses becoming more insistent, more needy. You feel it, the desire coiling in your tummy as he presses you even closer against his hard body, as one of his hands entangles in your hair.

You break apart for a moment, both of you panting, staring at each other, his eyes are full of desire, his pupils blown wide, and you see in his own eyes your face, lips parted, your own eyes lidded with desire. You both ease back, he rests his forehead on yours, desire coursing through his veins.

“It’s taking everything in me not to go inside, to have your taste all over me.” His words end you almost, you’re panting softly, nodding then.

“I know, I want it too.” He kisses you again, softer and easier, taking a deep breath and stepping back, leaving just a couple of inches between you now.

“I want to do things right this time. I want you to feel you’re put first. Please, don’t cry, angel.” You can’t help it, it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed to hear from him, tears streaming silently.

“They’re happy tears this time.” You manage to whisper, he exhales then, brushing them gently, kissing your cheeks.

“I hope soon I can ask you to be my girlfriend.” Your heart stutters then, he tenses as if he’s said something wrong. “Not yet I mean… if…”

“N-no, I’d like it soon. I agree we shouldn’t go further tonight though.” He nods quickly, kissing you once more and standing straight, clearing his throat, he’s rubbing the back of his neck all awkward and cute, the Choso you’ve known forever. “You’re still you, hmm?”

His lips turn up a bit. “I’m still me. You’re still you.”

“I am still me. Text me the details of the concert? I’ll be there.” He beams brightly at that.

“Yeah!?”

“Yeah. Good night, Choso. Thank you.”

“Good night.” After he’s watched you go inside, Choso is covering his face, breath coming so quick, he’s kissed you, and not just as some prelude to sex, no he kissed you after a date.

Everything in him is melting, things aren’t completely lost like he thought, it’s like this beautiful rainbow has entered his world again, illuminating the darkness that losing you had left behind. He’s not even sure he deserves your forgiveness, but he knows he will make sure he earns it properly. He stares at your shut door for some time before he leaves, the longing making him ache.

You’re covering your face, a huge fucking smile on it, as your back is against the door, then you have a hand on your heart, feeling it beat again, for the first time in weeks. You take off your heels, unzipping your dress then, heading to the bathroom to start taking off your makeup, mind whirling. Choso wasn’t lost, and maybe you weren’t lost either.

You try not to get your hopes too high, to not be too quick to think everything will be fine, you both hurt each other deeply, and you have a lot to go, but tonight made the dark bright again, made you realize Choso was your brightness. When you’re in bed, snuggled under the blankets, your phone buzzes and you look quickly to see it, a text from Choso.

Cho Bear: I hope you have a good night, but I have to admit… I’d die to have you in my arms.

His text hits hard, it hits brutal, it was only one night he’d held you like that, but you can’t get it out of your head, how it felt perfect. Like you were supposed to be there, safe and protected, cherished. Even now to think of him holding you brings emotions forwards, the longing in his words matching yours.

You: That would be lovely, I enjoyed that night.

Cho Bear: I enjoyed it too much, especially watching you sleep.

You: Creepy sleep stalker!

Cho Bear: A little bit.

You’re giggling again, eyes heavy now, and he sends the details of the concert coming up while you yawn.

You: I can’t wait, good night Cho.

Cho Bear: Good night, pretty.

You also see a text from Utahime, asking for details, you’re half asleep with one eye open as you text her back that it was so fun. She had encouraged you to go and give it a try, and you’re so happy you did. She gives you a million heart emojis then, making you smile sleepily.

To be in Choso’s arms, you don’t know if you’ll get there any time soon, but in your dreams, there you are.

*****

“She came!” Yuuji exclaims that weekend, you and Choso were back to him bringing you that coffee at work, in fact it came along with a little peck on your cheek every morning. It would make you think of him all day, it would put this goofy smile on your face, but aside from that, you haven’t seen him.

The concert is at a very popular club in the city, and it’s packed, there is Choso’s band and a couple others there, when you walk in and you see them. Yuuji waves excitedly, Megumi gives a little nod, and Choso brightens up, calling your name and waving you up to the stage then.

“You came!” He picks you up in his arms then, a giant bear hug that makes you feel so small as he lifts you up, you hug him around the neck as your feet dangle off the ground, smiling against his cheek.

“Of course I did, I couldn't miss it.” He eases you down as some onlookers come, one including Amber, who makes Choso tense as she strides up.

“Choso, I haven’t talked to you! In forever…”

“Is that your girl?” Another girl asks, Amber laughs then.

“They’re friends.”

You gulp now, panicking as several people come around curiously, and you want to fall into a fucking hole, terrified of what his answer will be, you’re not together yet, so whatever he says…

“No, she’s my girl.” You blink up at him, gasping, he eases you down and wraps an arm around your waist as the whispers start.

“Your girl?” Amber asks, arms crossed with a scowl.

“She’s pretty!” Someone else says, making you flush, snuggling up to Choso, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He looks at you then, shaking his head. “I want to.” He murmurs, pressing a little kiss on your lips in front of everyone, Megumi and Yuuji are grinning as the girls are babbling, and people from the crowd ooh and ahh. But Amber?

“Really? Her?” Choso tenses then, glaring over at her.

“Yeah, her, what’s that mean?”

“Cho, it’s okay…”

Amber stomps up to him then, leaning close. “You forgot the last time we hung out?”

“I’d love to forget. You can go on if you mean to insult her, because damned if she’s not perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Why don’t you go on?” Megumi says then, eyeing a bouncer. “Or we could have you escorted?”

“Whatever.” She grumbles, dragging her friends out with her, and suddenly you can breathe just a bit, looking up at him.

“You didn’t have to say all that, it’s okay really.”

“It’s not okay for her to talk that way. She’s nothing.” He cups your face, forgetting the audience right along with you, until Yuuji clears his throat, and you smile at them, tummy doing fucking flips at how good you feel.

“Thanks Megumi.” You say softly, he shrugs.

“She’s a bitch.” You snort a bit, covering your mouth, looking up at Choso again, who has a more serious expression.

“Is it fine I called you my girl?” He asks, you feel it, his nerves then, you nod with the biggest smile, and he exhales. “Okay, good, because I want it to be true.”

“Maybe it will be, let’s see this surprise.” You tease, pecking a kiss on his lips softly again. “I can’t wait.”

As you’re sipping on a drink you watch them start their set, you’re right up front and center, watching Choso’s finger strum the guitar like they’re made to do it, he leans close to the mic and starts singing. His voice resonates through the entire room, earning everyone’s avid attention, including of course, yours.

You watch him intently, as he performs songs you’ve known forever, you’re cheering and dancing and he keeps smiling at you, keeps looking at you. You feel so special then, more than you can ever remember feeling, the fear dissipating with every honeyed flick of his fingers on the guitar, at moments you shut your eyes and just let it wash through you.

You head to get another drink as they prep for the next song, when suddenly there’s a hushed quiet when Choso speaks, making you turn back around and stare at him.

“This song was written in a rush, these two had to learn it so fast, they probably wanna kick my ass.” He says, the crowd laughs a bit, you’re headed back through them with your drink, smiling up at Choso curiously. “But it’s dedicated to someone special, someone I’ve known forever, but who has become very special to me.”

He says your name then.

You can hardly remember your name before he spoke it, before he looked at you like that, and he’s pointing at you, earning the crowd parting just a bit for you. You feel the heat of everyone’s gaze, hear their murmurs, but you’re too entranced and in shock to really see anything but violet eyes across from you on the stage.

“I hope you… I know you’ll get it.” He says then, hoping the lights on the stage didn’t make his blush show too much, then he begins playing, as do Megumi and Yuuji, a melodic tune that sounds nothing like you’ve heard from them.

A/N: *disclaimer I am no songwriter, be easy on me lol*

When the world fades to gray and all I can see is you,

When the nights blend to days and all I feel is you.

The smile on your face it dances across all my dreams,

Feelings so raw it’s like I’m bursting at the seams.

The melody is soft, it’s not their usual rock music, it’s a ballad so beautiful it brings tears to your eyes, hearing the hoarseness of Choso’s voice as he pours his heart into every word. You sniffle and take a shaky sip, trembling as everyone watches you both in wonder, but it is just you two, isn’t it? Hasn’t it always been?

I’d die to have you in my arms every night,

Oh what I’d do to hold you so tight.

To press kisses along your lips,

To touch you with fingertips.

You’re heating up now, breathless as you continue to watch, utterly enamored, it’s as if you feel these words like a physical touch, overheating your body. You break apart that last barrier of fear, piece by piece, because you can’t just make this up, you can feel it, all of him, in all his sincerity.

In a crowded room all I see is you,

Praying at night for all my dreams to come true.

A girl with a smile that can brighten my heart,

A girl with eyes that tear me apart.

Your eyes are a mess, you’re absolutely sure that there is makeup running down your face, as he melody continues, as he starts pouring his heart to you, as he makes you smile, as he makes you melt. You’re trembling so hard your knees nearly knock, aching to be held by him, for him to never let go. You know you have to take things slow, but at this moment it feels impossible.

Feelings I’ve always known,

Feelings I’ve never shown.

She’s the girl that you write songs for,

She’s the girl that I’ve longed for.

By my side through it all,

Never knew we could fall.

The realization that I have come to,

That there’s nobody but you

At that moment you’re a mess, he ends the song but before he can finish you’ve jumped on the stage, he swings his guitar behind him, and you kiss him, pulling him down to you as everyone claps for him. It’s thunderous, but you don’t hear shit, just your pulse racing, just Choso’s heart thudding, he pulls back with tears in his eyes, breaths coming so quick.

“Choso, I hear you. I feel you.” You whisper, brokenly then, and he kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around you.

“I do mean it, I mean it all angel.” You nod, swiping at your tears and smiling so brightly, he leans close, cupping your face, smiling.

“Finish the set.” You whisper, giggling then as you hop off the stage, everyone is enamored as Choso clears his throat, and they start their usual fare. You head to the bathroom, slamming into Amber then, who scoffs at you.

“You, hmm?” She demands, earning your glare.

“What’s your problem with me? It’s not like you and Choso dated.”

“No? Well he sure had his cock in my mouth.”

You tense now. “And? We weren’t together.”

“Don’t you think…” She leans close. “That if he really wanted you, he’d have been with you this entire time?”

“I…” Your mind whirls with doubt, she smiles all nasty at you.

“No worries, I got Gojo’s number, maybe I’ll take your other guy?”

“Psh, like I care about Gojo. Please do, maybe he’ll quit sending me his dick pics.” You say, smirking at her then, she is furious at you.

“He said you’re just friends, you know.”

“Yeah well, I don’t care what he said. It doesn’t matter. We’re not ‘just friends’ any longer, so I expect you to back the fuck off hmm?” You step right to her, damn near nose to nose, and she backs up just a step.

“We’ll see about all that.” She walks off now, leaving you shaky as you peer into the mirror, you feel sick at thinking of them together, once you pull yourself together somewhat you step out, seeing her all clinging to his arm.

Choso shrugs her off though, glaring, and when he sees you he starts walking your way, filling you with so much relief, it’s like you can breathe again. “Was she a bitch to you?”

“Yeah, she’s really salty.” Choso snorts then, kissing you gently for everyone to see. “I hate that you were with her.”

“I hate you were with him.” He murmurs, leaning close to your ear. “How slow are we taking this?”

“Mmm…” You trail your hands down his strong arms. “We said slow…”

“I could eat you out really slow?” Your eyes shoot up to his, god you haven’t been touched that way in so long, and by him especially, you feel his words shoot between your thighs. “I want to feel you cum so badly, watch your pretty face, your last time cumming was…”

“Thinking of you.” You cut him off, surprising him then. “It was playing with myself, thinking of you.”

“Fuck…” Choso kisses you deeper, pressing you against the wall right by the bathroom, his hands on your waist, pressing in. “I’ll take it slow, whatever it is you want to do, I will.”

“You wanna lick me slow huh?” You’re giggling at the thought. “Lick me where, Choso?”

“You know where, you’re so bratty right now.” You can’t stop your giggles, making him desire you even more. “Don’t I owe you a couple orgasms?”

“Maybe you do. Two I think.”

“So I’ll give you two, and we won’t go further… yet.”

“Where?” He exhales now.

“I want you home… I mean… my home.”

“Staying the night is a lot really quick, this is like our second date?” You tease, he smiles shyly then.

“We can just cuddle, we can do anything. Please just come home… over to my home…”

“You’ve said that twice.” He is a blushing mess, it melts you. “I’ll come over for a night cap then.”

“Yeah!?”

You laugh, nodding. Soon you’re pulling into Choso’s home, and it’s a little nerve wracking. Then you remember the last time you were in his bed, you don’t know how you hold back. Choso’s bending down, slipping off your heels, pecking kisses up your thighs then, earning your gasp as you’re dripping wet in your panties.

“Wanna get more comfy?” He asks softly, you nod shyly then, and soon you’re only wearing one of his soft band tees, coming out to see Choso has made you a drink, he hands it to you as you walk in the kitchen, leaning on the counter then. “You’re so beautiful.” He says, brushing your hair back.

“You’re beautiful, Cho bear.” He shakes his head with a little eye roll.

“You always sucked at taking compliments.”

“I know, ugh.” You sip on the drink in the quiet kitchen then, he bends over you, arms on either side of the counter.

“Do you know how badly I wanna fuck any memory out of your head of him?” His words hit you violently, your pussy throbs around nothing. “I won’t yet, but if you think I don’t you’re insane.”

“I… you…”

“I’ll settle for licking the memories out of your pretty head.” You can’t stop the whine from the back of your throat then, only urging him on, he’s got you lifted on his counter then, shocking you. “Let me take care of you, angel, yeah? Just like that first night, when I first tasted you.”

“Please.” Is all you manage, and Choso’s slipping up your shirt, moaning when he finds you bare, sinking to his knees then, he’s so tall it puts him right at face height with your pussy, which his breath alone makes you jerk. “Cho…”

“So fucking perfect.” He swipes a tongue up your slit, your hands enwrap in his dark silky locks, as he shoves your thighs apart, tongue ring hitting your clit. “Mmm… so yummy, fuck.” He huffs now, black blunt nails pressing into the plush of your thighs as he slips his tongue up again.

“Cho!” You whimper, already pathetic, he watches the arousal pool from your little hole, making him throb, cock so hard he can’t take it. He starts drinking you up, the slurping sounds in the kitchen erotic, as his barbell keeps flicking over and over. “Oh my god…”

You’re already close, it’s so quick but he knows you, he knows your pussy, where you like it, what pressure, and when he’s sucking your clit in his mouth, humming on it and watching you, you fall apart. You can’t hold back at all, cumming so much it’s a mess, all over his face, which he eagerly drinks while you’re yanking his hair so hard it hurts, but it makes him harder.

“Good girl, that’s it.” Choso murmurs when he pulls back, you’re blinking vision back, blinded then, taking several breaths as he leans up, slipping a finger in your slick walls, which clench him. “So tight, fuck… soaking me, huh angel?”

“Mnh…” You can’t manage a word, hearing your greedy pussy sucking his fingers so deep. He’s curling it up, leaning to you, lips brushing yours, you lick yourself right off him, hands shaking as you clutch his shirt. “M-missed it… f-fuck…”

“I missed you, missed feeling you.” Choso’s words, his finger curling sends you back over that edge, your eyes roll back, head falling, he kisses down your throat then, slipping another finger. “Feel that stretch, huh baby?”

“Ngh!” You nod, gasping when he’s back down, using his fingers and his mouth at the same time, bringing you higher and higher, all while violet, dilated eyes watch your every expression. Choso’s pulsing himself then, as your walls flutter around him, as your slick pools down his wrist, so slippery now, all while he drinks you, watching you fall apart.

You’re shaking violently, thighs closing around his head as the orgasm washes over you, as the coil in your tummy releases, your scream is so loud your voice breaks in the middle. You’re sobbing when he’s done, it’s so fucking good, gasping for breath, he places a kiss on your pussy then, groaning at it, and you desperately yank him to you, kissing him.

He moans, deepening the kiss, and he feels it then, the sticky hot cum from eating you out start pouring in his sweats, he panics at it, pulling back, and looking at your cock drunk face, eyes dilated so much he can barely see the iris. Your cunt is drooling, he leans down to lap it up again, whimpering as his cock pushes out more cum, picturing it in you.

“Cho, lemme take care of-”

“Ah, no… I already…”

He leans up now, blushing furiously, and your eyes dart down, seeing it now, soaking wet spot on his sweats, sticky white pooling through the material. “I didn’t touch you?”

“You didn’t have to.” He smiles nervously, exhaling. “I’m sorry-”

“No! No… it means you really love it.” You whisper, biting your lip as he eases you off the counter. Choso cups your face carefully, words of love threatening to spill, but he doesn’t know if you’re ready yet.

“Loving it is an understatement, watching you cum? Your pretty face? The way your body shakes? I can’t explain it. And your taste, how wet you get… I couldn’t take it, it just… happened.” You giggle now, earning his glare. “Are you laughing at me? That cruel, hmm?”

“No, I’m just… it’s so cute!”

“Cute? Ugh.”

“I’m sorry it is sweet, and cute… and flattering.” You kiss him over and over, uncaring as his sticky lap presses against your tummy. “I can clean you up?’

“Oh god, I won’t make that right now. No, I want it for you, tonight.”

“Like the first night?”

“Mhmm.” He kisses your forehead now, exhaling. “Let me clean up and we can cuddle, if you want?”

“I want.”

Soon you’re back somewhere you never thought you’d be again, Choso Kamo’s strong arms, he’s got one wrapped around you as you lay on his chest, trailing little circles mindlessly against his bare skin, over his tattoos. You know the story behind them all, you went to him with most of them, but you can’t help but find them incredibly sexy.

His other hand brushes up and down your spine, making you shiver and hum just a bit, you lean your chin up, looking at him then, feeling the words threatening to spill, but not just yet. “I’m still scared, Cho bear.”

He frowns at that, sighing. “I know, angel. I know.”

“I want to say more, but…”

“You can wait, we have all the time, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You kiss him and smile, blissed out from his presence, from the pleasure he brings you.

“How about another date?” You nod eagerly, smiling against his neck as you snuggle up to him.

“I’d love that. I’ll pick it?”

“You’ll pick it.”

“I hope Amber will fuck off by the way?”

“You can beat her up?”

“I could.” He moans at that, yanking you closer.

“Hot.” You both giggle. “I didn’t enjoy it with her. Physical and nothing else? It felt so…”

“Empty.”

“Yeah, empty. But fuck I can’t forget the hurt on your face, and I hate it still, that it made you…”

“Cho…”

“I hate him, I’m sorry. It’s like he knew you were upset and thrived off it.” You wince now, shaking your head.

“He just wanted fun, I doubt it.”

“You’re too sweet sometimes. If I see him? I can’t make promises.”

“You’ll kick his ass for my honor huh?” He chuckles.

“For lots of reasons, starting with high school. Even then, I wish…”

“It’s okay, we have now. Let’s not focus on back then.” He wishes he could change it all though, take away your pain, but he’s so thankful, he nods now, kissing your head and continuing his gentle touches. “This feels so perfect. It’s scary how perfect.”

“It is perfect. Good night, angel.” You yawn, smiling and shutting your eyes, snuggling deeper as you fall into a slumber, the tentative happiness making you sleep quickly, though there’s fear in both your hearts, of what could come between you.

“I… love you. I’m in love with you.” Choso whispers, as he hears you lightly snore, making his heart swell in his chest, hoping one day soon he can tell you.

A/N- I know the last chap was HEAVY with the angst, but they had to go through the worst and a seperation, truly to find each other. The story isn't over, and not done yet, but I hope you're enjoying it even if it got dark for a bit here! I look forward to your comments

Taglist: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @lana18918 @bigbird789  @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff @mysouleaten @city-of-lovers @teddiiursula @flowerbbybananamilk @anna-reader-blog @loveisnanami @nymphsdomain @mollyrocks420 @ilovemrsilver @kitzuuuu @skzynct

perma tags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @cuntphoric

(rest tagged in comments!)

[startaegi]

ON THE RUN, cho hyunju. 【 CHAPTER 01 】

⤑ pairing, cho hyunju x fem!reader

⤑ synopsis, where secret-not so secret lovers, hyunju and yn find each other in the unlikely of places.

⤑ series masterlist, on the run.

⤑ chapter two, coming soon!

⤑ notes, hi welcome to my first fic on here! i haven’t written anything in years but i couldn’t not write something for my girl bcos she deserves all the love. anyways enjoy, i hope it isn’t too bad!! 🫶🏻

⤑ taglist, @etta-huracan (if you would like to be added let me know)

The day seemed to pass slowly. You spent most of it watching the hours tick by. Midnight at Hangang Bridge the robotic voice had said when calling the unknown number two days ago, a number from a card you'd received from a well dressed man in Sinchon station. Your face was still slightly bruised from that interaction, you had never been the best at playing ddakji. It was 30 minutes until 12 and you knew if you didn't leave now, you wouldn't make it on time. As risky as it was you weren't missing out on the opportunity to potentially win life changing money.

You unplugged your phone from the charger and switched off the broken lamp that did nothing to light your room. The apartment was small, all contained in one room minus the bathroom but it was the best you could get with what you have. You slipped on your shoes, eyes scanning the place one last time and eventually landing on the fridge. The note she had left was still there, her messy handwriting followed by little hearts in the corner, you could picture her folded over the kitchen island, a little smile on her face as she doodled her love onto the page. You missed her more than anything.

You quickly pulled yourself together closing the door behind you. A noise to the left startled you, keys almost falling from your hands. The sweet lady who owned the building with her son was hiding herself from view of the streets, the curtains slightly moving from the wind. "Hi, Ajumma" You called.

She turned with a smile on her face, backing away from the window. "Oh hello Y/N love" She replied. 

"Are you okay?" You questioned. It wasn't like her to be roaming around the halls so late in the night especially at her age.

"I don't want to worry you" She said hesitantly. You froze, mind instantly going to Hyunju. Did she finally come by? "Those same men where outside again, no good for nothing they are" She seethed.

Your heart sank. "Oh"

"I've been keeping an eye on them just in case but looks like they're gone now" She said, walking alongside you towards the exit. "You're leaving late? Everything okay?" She asked.

You nodded. "Going to visit a friend for a while, i'll be back in time for rent payments" You assured her, the last thing you needed was to be evicted.

She patted your shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry about that, you go have a nice time" She smiled. "You deserve it"

You paused for a second, words caught in your throat. "If-" You started. "If you see Hyunju can you tell her i'll be back soon? Tell her not to go anywhere, please" You practically begged. It would be just your luck, the moment you leave she would appear again.

Her eyes softened, a look of sympathy flashed across her face. She nodded, caressing your shoulder again. "Of course I will sweetheart. You still haven't heard from her?" She questioned.

You shook your head. It had been 30 days, an entire month since you last seen the one good thing in your life. You were left with a text message, one you'd read more times than you could count, one you could recite by heart if asked. She was leaving but she'd be back soon. At first you were angry, how dare she leave you after everything you'd been through together, with just a message through a screen. Then the days turned to weeks and your anger became worry. Where was she? Why wasn't she returning your calls or texts? You didn't want to expect the worst but in the country you lived as the people you both are, being alone wasn't a good idea. You lost sleep, your headaches not that you thought they could, somehow became worse. Your medication bottles became empty and your pockets just the same. You only hope she'll be back by the time you return and this time you'll have a bank balance enough to get you out of this place.

You finally left the building when another resident entered, distracting the older woman and making your exit, but of course not forgetting to say goodbye. The rain was heavy, bouncing against the cracked pavements. The silence is eerie. The broken street lamps flicker casting shadows on the wet pavements, your jacket doesn't have a hood leaving your hair to get drenched by the midnight drizzle. You scan the roads, no cars or people in sight. An overwhelming feeling of anxiety washes over you, a familiar sensation that mostly greets you in the night.

You don't have time to dwell on it as a beam of headlights approach you. A silver car pulls up beside you, the passenger side window rolls down. You're taken back at the person sat in the driver seat, face concealed by a black mask. They're also wearing a pink suit, their entire body hidden.

"Name?" The masked person questions.

"Y/N L/N" You reply, droplets of rain falling against your open lips.

They don't reply instead the back door clicks open. You quickly slide into the empty seat shielding yourself from the rain. You push the wet hair from your eyes only then noticing other people sat in the seats around you, seemingly asleep.

"Uh, excuse me?" You ask the masked driver. "What's-" You stop mid sentence, suddenly it becomes harder to breathe and a mysterious mist fogs your eyesight. You struggle to move your mouth, your entire body feels heavy. You feel the jolt of the car starting again and before you know it you're being sent into a slumber completely unaware of the hell that awaits you.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Wall

Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: When Cregan is forced to bring his wife to the Wall, he tries to ensure her protection but does not hesitate to defend her honor when necessary.

Warnings: no use of y/n, canon level violence and language, crude language, slight sexual assault, slight smut, men being disgusting, misogyny, cregan being protective, death, killing

Word Count: 8k oops

Masterlist

Rays of warm sun streamed across the Lord and Lady of Winterfell’s chambers, a rare sight in the North so near to winter. An equally rare sight was the lord and lady lounging in bed past sunrise. Typically, the Warden of the North was out of bed before or along with the sunrise. However, longing for his wife of only six months' embrace, he had allotted himself extra time to just be with her.

The two lay, just facing each other for several moments, basking in the warmth and intimacy. Cregan broke the comfortable silence, his hand reaching up to cup his wife’s face. “I am going to miss this sight.”

The girl quirked a brow but smiled nonetheless. “Miss?” she questioned. “Where are you going?” It then occurred to Cregan that his wife was not Northern. She was unaccustomed to the Lord of Winterfell’s duties at the Wall at the beginning of winter, dragging him from the warm embrace of Winterfell.

Slipping a hand down from her face, his fingers found her shoulder, rubbing against the bare skin. “The Wall,” he informed gently. “I forgot you were not raised with our customs. At the beginning of every winter, the Lord of Winterfell must go to the Wall for a few months.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “A few months?” she repeated incredulously. “And I am not to come?”

Cregan shook his head, keeping his calm facade so as to not ruin the soothing atmosphere. However, inside he was incredulous that she’d suggest such a thing. The Wall was no place for a woman, especially one as lovely as his wife. “No, my love, you cannot. It is too dangerous.”

She laughed softly. Her chuckle was not mocking, although dismissive. “I believe I can handle the cold.”

Cregan laughed as well, neither mocking nor dismissive, more so endeared. “As much as I believe you could, it is far colder on the Wall than it is here. But that is not even the concern. You know the Night’s Watch? How a man faced with prison or death may choose the guard the Wall instead?” His wife nodded, her expression slowly being overcome with concern. “Well, that makes them…” he paused, trying to think how to put this delicately, “not the best group of men. Now, when a man joins the Night’s Watch their past is forgotten and forgiven. However, part of being a brother of the Night’s Watch means giving some things up. Including the companionship of women. Now, they are my men,” he assured, “I fight with and for them, but they are not my friends. I do not trust them with the most precious thing to me,” he explained, his hand briefly leaving her arm to cup her face for a moment.

Despite the disheartening answer and explanation, his wife could not help but blush at his adorations. “Should I be concerned with you going there?” she asked, her concern thinly veiled by a laugh.

“No,” he assured. “I trust them in battle with my life. My law gives them another chance at life.”

His wife nodded, still unconvinced. “When do you leave?”

“A fortnight,” he answered, satisfied that the matter of her wanting to go was laid to rest. “And I should like to savor every moment of being home,” he said, his voice gaining a teasing lilt as he leaned over to kiss her. She laughed as his arm encircled her waist, allowing him to pull her body on top of his.

~

Cregan did not think about their conversation again, considering the matter to be done. His wife did not bring up the topic again for a week. Until she strolled into his study lazily one day.

Cregan looked up from the documents on his desk, a smile gracing his face as he saw who the intruder was. “What are you doing here?” he asked pleasantly. Her visits were not uncommon as she sometimes just stopped by when she missed him so he did not expect much of a response from her.

“I just wanted to see you,” she said with a smile, buttering him up. She took a seat across the desk from him, eliciting a furrowed brow from her husband.

“Why are you sitting there?” he asked, feigning offense. “Come,” he waved her over. She complied, rounding the desk. As soon as she was in reach, Cregan grabbed her arm, practically yanking her into his lap. She fell into him with a laugh, allowing herself to settle into him. “There, I much prefer this.”

She laughed again before her expression fell. “Oh, I am going to miss you so much,” she professed, reaching up to cup his jaw.

Cregan’s own expression softened. “I know,” he conceded. “But it is only for three moons.”

Her eyes widened. “But that is half our marriage!” she cried.

Cregan sighed. “I’m afraid I do not know how to comfort you, my love.”

“You could always bring me with you,” she suggested coyly, to which her husband’s expression morphed into disapproval.

“My love, you know I cannot bring you with me.”

“But they are my people too. Or am I not also the Lady of Winterfell as much as you are the Lord?” she challenged.

“You are!” Cregan agreed. “But there are some responsibilities that are mine alone.”

Before anyone could argue further, there was a knock on the door. The lady attempted to stand from her husband’s lap for the sake of whoever wanted to enter. But a firm arm around her waist kept her planted. “Enter,” Cregan called, his grip on his wife’s waist still tight.

As the door opened, revealing Maester Kennet, he paused for a moment at the sight that greeted them. All of Winterfell knew how affectionate their lord and lady were, but he had not expected to enter to find this. After clearing his throat, the man greeted them. “My lord, my lady,” he began. “I’m afraid I bring you regretful news. Maester Alden of the Wall has passed. The Lord Commander is requesting you bring a healer to the Wall with you. He has already requested a new Maester from their Order, but it will be several months until one is sent from Oldtown.”

Cregan sighed, letting go of his wife’s waist to rub his eyes. It seemed there was always a problem. There were no other maesters that he could summon from the north. He could not imagine the uproar he’d receive for pulling a maester or healer from a village no matter how small. And Winterfell could not lose Maester Kennet who had yet to take on an apprentice. The closest thing he had to one was the woman sitting on Cregan’s lap.

The woman in question perked up. “I could go,” she immediately offered.

“No,” Cregan was quick to dismiss.

“My lord, if I may,” Kennet began simultaneously, “your wife is an excellent healer.” Being born a Hightower she was raised under the tutelage of the Order of Maesters who occupied The Hightower alongside the noble family.

“She is not going to the Wall,” he rebuffed, speaking as if she weren’t there yet grasping her waist even tighter than before. He sighed, before looking at the woman in his lap. “I have to speak with Maester Kennet alone,” he said softly.

Despite her wanting to argue she just nodded, seeing just how stressed her husband was. She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before freeing herself from his grasp. As she stood, she nodded to Kennet before taking her leave, both men watching her go.

“Cregan,” the older man began, “I know what you are thinking but she is your only option. I cannot leave Winterfell, especially with you away. And with winter coming no one can afford to lose their healers. Nor could one be expected to travel between villages in the heard of winter.”

“I know,” Cregan mused. “But you have been to the Wall. It is no place for a woman.”

“You entrust her with the guards of Winterfell and bring many of them to the Wall as well. If she is not with you she can always be with them. Besides, the brothers of the Night’s Watch respect and fear you. I am confident they wouldn’t dare hurt her under your watch, or the watch of the guards.”

“But that is precisely my concern. What if she is left alone? You of all in Winterfell know she hates being shackled to someone, a guard or myself.”

“If you tell her protection is the condition of her going to the Wall I trust she will obey your wishes. I know she enjoys breaking the rules occasionally but if you express the importance to you she will listen to them.”

Cregan considered the older man’s words for a moment. He hated having his hand forced, especially when it became personal. The idea of bringing his wife to the Wall made it personal despite the lack of someone to blame. Still, he could not shake the image of the members of the Night’s Watch laying their eyes on his wife, the first woman that many would have seen in years. Gods, he could already predict their thoughts if he were in their shoes and they were not kind. They were the thoughts that only he should have as her husband.

“I will have an answer for the Lord Commander by the end of tomorrow. If I am unable to find another healer, Lady Stark may come,” he conceded. He let out a deep sigh. “Do you think there are any eunuchs that may be able to watch her?” he asked sarcastically.

~

Cregan reluctantly trudged down the hall to his wife’s study. He had spent all day wracking his brain for another healer that could make it to Winterfell in a week but there were none. And no one could even temporarily replace a village healer before the new one for the Wall would arrive. So he found himself reluctantly knocking at her door.

“Enter,” her voice came.

Entering the warm office that she had really just turned into a library, Cregan was greeted with his wife sitting by the fireplace. She turned to see who had knocked, a smile breaking out on her face when she was greeted with her husband. But that smile quickly faded when she saw his tired expression. “What is wrong?” she asked, turning in her plush seat to face him.

Her husband did not answer as he took a seat on the chair across from her, just looking in the fire. “I cannot find a healer to bring to the Wall,” he began reluctantly, the flames dancing in his tired eyes. Across from him, the flames seemed to make the light growing in his wife’s eyes dance. “So, you will come with us.” The lady gasped in excitement at his words but Cregan snapped his head to look at her. “But,” he dampened her excitement slightly, “there are some rules that you must follow if you are to come.”

“Cregan-”

“Don’t protest,” he reprimanded. “I love you, I could never forgive myself if you were harmed by anyone or anything on the Wall. Especially by the men who are sworn to me.”

The lady took a breath, finding the sincerity in her husband’s eyes. She could see just how scared he was of this, just how much the thought of her getting hurt scared him. And she could empathize, as she could not bear the thought of being without him for three moons. Much less that she now understood how dangerous the Wall could be. “Okay, I will obey your rules,” she conceded.

Cregan nodded, “Thank you. I do not intend to scare you but you should know these things. First, that there will be many men of Winterfell coming with us. If you are not with me or in our chambers, you are to be with one of them.” He paused, waiting for a response to which she just nodded in agreement. “Next, you will act as a healer so you will likely operate out of Maester Alden’s turret. Alden was an… experimental healer so do not touch anything unless you are absolutely sure you know what it is. And the Wall is cold, far colder than even here so ensure you bring clothes to keep you dry and warm. If you become too ill to care for yourself then all my men on the Wall are at risk.”

She quirked a brow at him. “Are you truly telling me to bring a cloak to the Wall?” she questioned.

“Well you brought practically nothing here,” he retorted lightly.

His wife just sent him a playful glare before he continued. “And finally, you are not to be in the common areas with the brothers. That includes places such as the dining halls, the practice yard, the brothers’ quarters, the stables, any place where they congregate. And, of course, you may not go beyond the Wall. Is that clear?”

“Cregan, you needn’t treat me like a child,” she chided lightly. But her soft smile wavered seeing his stony expression. “I understand,” she conceded. “I will be careful and stay with those you trust.”

“Good,” Cregan nodded. “I know you think me too protective. But it is my job to protect you, I swore an oath to the gods to it.”

“I know,” she acknowledged.

~~

Cregan grew more and more nervous as the Stark party drew closer to the Wall. Sending a glance to his wife, he found her just behind him, sitting side saddle wrapped in furs and cloaks. Despite the long, arduous journey to the Wall she had not complained once. It got to the point that Cregan was concerned something was wrong. She just dismissed his concerns as not wanting to be sent back to Winterfell.

“Are you alright?” he asked, checking in on her as he often did.

“Yes,” she agreed with a teasing rolled eye.

Cregan nodded, her amusement doing nothing to quell his nerves. “We are approaching Castle Black. Remember, many of these men have not even seen a woman in years. Stick close to me.” The amusement left her features as she nodded. Cregan looked over to one of the guards in front of him. “Garrat, ride ahead. Let the Lord Commander know we are an hour out.”

“Aye, my lord,” the man agreed, not even turning on his horse before taking off.

The rest of the trip was led in relative silence. The only person who had been remotely excited to go to the Wall was Lady Stark but that excitement had been quelled by the numerous grave warnings she had received from her husband and the men who had been.

Soon enough, she was staring up at the peaks of Castle Black as they approached the gates. She observed the fabled Wall she had heard so much about. In stories from her childhood and in preparation of this trip. To say she was underwhelmed was an understatement. She had heard fabled stories of a seven hundred foot wall made of ancient ice. Rather, guarding the fortress that monitored this Wall, were indeed ice walls, but they looked to be maybe fifty feet high at their peaks, along with some man constructed walls that served similarly to the walls of Winterfell, containing the fortress. She would have expressed her disappointment in a jest to her husband but did not for the sake of appearance.

As the gates of the fortress opened she felt just like when she had entered the gates of Winterfell. Compared to Oldtown in the south, Winterfell felt cold and cruel, with the local Northerners’ hard gazes making her skin crawl. But she had found a comfortable home there and made friends with many of the fortress’ occupants. Compared to Winterfell, the Wall was like the seventh circle of hells. Whilst the cold initially felt biting in Winterfell, she had grown accustomed to it. Here, it felt as if the cold was sinking into her bones as the gates closed behind them. She had thought Winterfell to be dirty and barbaric as if it was made for war and war alone. But here, she felt as if she had actually entered a war camp and was now trapped in by its walls and the miles of snow between here and her home. And when she had first felt the curious gazes of the Northern folk upon entering her husband’s home, she had taken them as hungry, sending chills through her body. Now she truly knew what it felt like to be looked at with hunger as their group approached a welcome party of men dressed in black. The lady resisted the urge to pull her hood up to cover her hair that gave her away, but doing so now would look weak.

Instead, she looked to the four men stood in the middle of the courtyard, separate from the rest of them. Whilst three of them kept flickering their gazes towards her, the man who seemed to lead them stepped forward, only looking to Cregan.

“Lord Stark,” the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch greeted him as he dismounted from his horse.

“Carron Vander,” Cregan greeted the man with a smile, shaking his hand.

“We appreciate you bringing your wife,” Lord Commander Vander said in a lowered tone. “Trust that I have told the brothers exactly what will happen to them if they harm her.”

Cregan thanked the man. “Might I get my wife inside? She was born a Hightower after all,” he laughed.

Vander let out a booming laugh, observing the girl wrapped in furs for a moment. “Of course,” he agreed. “You know where your chambers are,” he gestured to the Commander’s house.

Cregan nodded, going over to his wife who was still sat upon the horse. She was sure that if she jumped from this height, with her feet so cold, her toes would break off. Without a word, Cregan grabbed her waist, sliding her off the horse. A movement that for a reason that could only make sense in the minds of sex-deprived men, elicited several murmurs from the men. Cregan gave no indication that he noticed it but his wife’s eyes nervously flickered around the courtyard full of men.

Holding her close, Cregan whispered, “Come, let’s get you inside.” As the couple and their men were ushered in, the brothers of the Night’s Watch received pointed glares from their Lord Commander, First Ranger, First Steward, and First Builder.

As the shivering woman was quickly ushered into the chambers of the Lord of Winterfell, she let the warmth melt the cold from her body. She took a moment to observe the room, finding it constructed of stone with wood furniture and more than enough fur and cloth to keep her warm for the winter. Along with a crackling hearth that made the room warm enough for her to begin stripping off layers. “No windows?” she mused.

“No,” Cregan answered, also shedding his cloak. “The buildings were designed to hold as much warmth in as possible. Windows just allow the cold in.” She nodded, observing the room. Cregan could not help the sigh that left him as his wife wrapped her arms around herself. Going over to her, he wrapped his own arms around her. “Are you okay?” he asked, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Yes,” she dismissed. “Just a bit cold.”

Cregan still held her, unconvinced. “If anyone makes you uncomfortable please come to me or Vander, Weaver, Graen, or Staelle.”

“Who are they?” she asked.

Before Cregan could answer, there was a knock at the door. Reluctantly, he pulled away from his wife to answer the door. Opening it, he revealed the four men that had greeted them outside. The short door made all the men look huge, especially Cregan who stood taller than all four.

“My lady,” they all greeted, bowing their heads as they entered. She could not tell if that was out of respect or so they would not hit their heads on the low doorway.

“This is Lord Commander Carron Vander,” Cregan introduced the first man. Vander stepped forward, reaching for her hand to press a delicate kiss on her knuckles. He was tall, just like the others, with greying hair and a black beard littered with silver. “The First Ranger, Adian Weaver,” he introduced a slightly younger man who repeated the actions of Vander. His hair was cropped short unlike the rest of the men, but his beard was full and held no silver. “He leads the rangers who go beyond the wall. This is the First Builder, Karron Graen, he is responsible for maintaining the wall.” A man with purely white hair stepped up, taking her hand as well, his beard was so long the wispy tip reached where presumably his navel was. “And this is the First Steward, Myle Staelle, he is responsible for keeping this place operating,” Cregan introduced the final man who had no hair but a great bushy brown beard, and repeated the movements of the other men.

“Lovely to meet you all,” the Lady of Winterfell greeted, feeling a bit intimidated. “Thank you for welcoming me. I know you do not typically have women here.”

“We appreciate you coming. Without a healer we are only as strong as our ill,” Vander commended.

“If you need anything do not hesitate to approach any one of us,” Weaver welcomed.

“Thank you. Winterfell truly appreciates all you do. The entire realm does, although I regret that they don’t show their regard.” The men all laughed at her joke. “Although, I must say, I had thought the wall was larger. I never thought it was actually seven hundred feet but-” Her words were cut off by a resounding laugh. “What?” she questioned as the booming laughter died for a moment.

“That wasn’t the Wall you saw as we entered, my love,” Cregan said. “We are on the Wall as we speak. And it is in fact seven hundred feet.” He could not help but be endeared by her confused expression.

Despite the dedication of the four men from the Night’s Watch to their oaths, they could not help but also be endeared by her cute expression. Nevertheless, they pushed their feelings down as their lord turned to them, his arm slung across his wife’s shoulder. “Should we show her the Wall?” he asked.

“Aye,” they all agreed. This woman’s presence was by far the most amusing thing to happen here in a long time.

Throwing his wolf fur coat over his wife, Cregan eagerly steered her out of their chambers. She did not say a word as he led her out of the house, back into the courtyard. Fortunately, most of the men had dispersed, leaving only a few working in the yard. The group led her to a wooden structure that looked to be some sort of tower against the ice wall that formed the back wall of the fortress. Pushing her onto the platform, Graen uttered some words to a few men standing at some sort of crank.

“Lord Husband, what ar-” she began to question when the men started pushing the great pieces of wood. Her worlds halted as they were slowly hoisted into the air. She could only look at the slowly disappearing ground as they were lifted higher and higher into the air.

“This is the lift, my lady. There is one on the other side of the wall. It is how we get up and down it,” Graen explained.

She just nodded, looking at the horizon in awe. It was nothing but the white and green of the snow and the trees. But it became hazier the higher they were lifted. She did not even care about the cold as the wind whipped around them, too entranced by the magnificent scenery.

Cregan could not help but smile adoringly at his wife as she stared in awe at seemingly the entire North. But as the lift stopped, his smile grew wider as he suddenly turned her around, greeting her with the sight of beyond the wall. He actually quite preferred the sight of the North, but seeing just how high up they were would surely shock her mind. And he was not disappointed as she took in the incredible sight, the white of the snow stretching for miles contrasted against the brilliant blue of the sky. But the most impressive sight was just how high they were above the snow.

“Holy…” her awestruck voice came, eliciting chuckles from all the men as her eyes shone with the light reflected from the ice beneath them.

“Seven hundred feet, my lady,” Graen confirmed with a smirk. “It is a grueling trip up and down,” he gestured to a structure that peaked up from a slightly lower edge.

As the lady stepped forward to observe better, her husband kept firm hands on both her shoulders, ensuring she did not get too close and plummet down the wall. “So you do actually climb up and down this wall?” she asked in astonishment.

“Aye, my lady,” the man smirked proudly.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Come,” Cregan said, pulling his wife back to the lift to return, “let’s get you settled in the maester’s turret. That is, after all, why you are here.”

Heading back down the lift and through the courtyards, they all headed to the maseter’s turret. It was in a tower connected to the dining hall and Cregan made a point of steering the in through the main entrance rather than through the hall.

“This was Maester Alden’s workshop,” Staelle explained, glancing around the room. Upon entering the rooms held by the old maester, Lady Stark could not help but wonder what was in the various bottles lining the shelves. She’d have to explore them further without Cregan there. “I’ll show you to the sickroom where you will be treating the brothers,” he explained, gesturing to a door housing a hallway.

Still holding his wife close, Cregan nudged her in that direction, leading them through the hall to a door and through to another room. It was large, made entirely of cold stone with two fireplaces on either end of the room working to keep it warm. There were a dozen or so beds lining the walls for men to rest after injury. But most alarmingly was the Winterfell guard suddenly standing up as the group entered.

“My Lord, my Lady, Lord Commander,” he greeted the three most senior in the room.

“Karden will be here in the infirmary at all times. And Drommen will always be outside this door as it leads to the dining hall,” Cregan explained. They were her two primary guards in Winterfell, always stationed outside their chambers or her study.

“Karden, I am so glad you will be with me,” the lady could not help but be overjoyed at seeing a familiar face. She knew they would be coming with them but it was nice to know that one of her most trusted guards was nearly always with her.

“I’m glad I can be of comfort, my lady,” he returned.

The atmosphere was then interrupted by a knock at the door. Drommen opened it without waiting, much to his regret as his eyes opened wide upon seeing his lord, lady, and the commanders of the Night’s Watch all before them. “Oh, my apologies. I had not realized you entered, my lady.”

��No apologies necessary,” she was quick to dismiss. “What is the matter?”

He opened the door wider, revealing a strange man of the Night’s Watch. “My apologies, my lords but I need a healer. You see, my—and I don’t mean to be crass—balls are quite sore and I think I might have an infection or something because my cock is leaking. My lady, if you don’t mind, as the healer, rubbing it to make the pain go away?” he dissolved into laughter.

Vander let out a growl, going over to the younger man, planting a large hand on the man’s head and pushing him out of the room. He then slammed the door shut just as the lady glimpsed Drommen dragging him away from the door. “My apologies, Lady Stark,” Vander began, turning to face her with a tired voice. “Trust that he will be dealt with.”

Cregan’s grip on her shoulder became impossibly tighter as she resisted the urge to shrink into his side. “It is alr-” she prepared to absolve Vander of responsibility.

“It is not alright,” her husband cut her off. “Stay here,” he said to her softly. “I am going to deal with him personally,” he declared, finally letting go of his wife. She just watched as he and the other men of the Night’s Watch all left through the same door Drommen guarded, leaving her with Karden.

She just turned to him slowly, clutching Cregan’s far too large cloak closer to her. Her guard watched her with concern. “Are you alright, my lady?”

She nodded, taking a breath to compose herself. “Yes, just a strange place, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” he agreed. “My first trip to the wall was two winters ago. I admit I did not enjoy it at first but you get used to it.” She just nodded, hoping that by the end of three months she would not be quite so eager to return to Winterfell.

~

At dinner, the brothers of the Night’s Watch all observed their lord sat at the head table. “Fuck, they bring Lord Stark to eat with us so we feel better about being on the Wall but not Lady Stark?” Kerith, one of the brothers of the Night’s Watch cursed.

“You really think they’d let her eat with you lot?” one of the Winterfell guards scoffed. “Especially after that one guy said to her in front of Lord Stark and all of them,” he gestured up to the head table.

“Yeah, well he’s an idiot,” another of the men answered.

“Tell us, what’s she look like under all those layers?” Kerith asked the guard. He just rolled his eyes, continuing to eat. “C’mon,” he begged. “You realize I haven’t even seen a woman in five years right? Tell me, has she got big tits?”

The man from Winterfell just sent a glare to all the horny boys listening in eagerly. “I’ll answer that if you are okay with me telling the Lord Commander you asked such a question.” All the boys just grumbled going back to their meals.

~

The Lady Stark had been up to her elbows in wounds all day. It seemed that ever since Maester Alden died, all training had ceased. And it seemed that, according to her patients, sparring and training was part of what kept the brotherhood of the Night’s Watch going. After weeks of no outlet for conflict, combined with the sudden influx of Winterfell guards who operated by different rules, and the presence of a woman—unbeknownst to the woman in question—things had become quite heated. With several scuffles breaking out in the training yard and the Lord Commander allowing them to occur as a form of catharsis.

Lady Stark had even made Karden into an assistant as he worked to bandage less severe wounds and run interference against the boys who simply wanted to come see a woman.

Venturing over to a bed held by a younger boy, just barely six and ten, she approached him with a kind smile. He had come in so sheepishly, clutching an arm to his chest and looking at her like an angel. “How are you feeling Clarreth?” she asked.

“Better, my lady,” he practically beamed up at her. He had not been at the wall long but it seemed the lack of women had gotten to him as his eyes never left her as she worked through all the beds of legitimately wounded men.

“That’s good,” she smiled, the boy practically melting under its warmth. “Do you feel well enough to return to the barracks? I’m afraid I’ll need this bed for one of the other men.”

Clarreth practically deflated at the suggestion. “But I’m still a bit sore.”

The woman could not help but contain her smile, the situation reminding her when her nephew was not even four years and had developed an affection for her. Yes, this boy was old enough to understand the boundaries he was breaching but at least he was not being disgusting about it as many of the other men had been. Plus, his round face and wide eyes made him look harmless.

She sunk down beside his bed, speaking to him as if he were a child despite being only three years younger. “Clarreth, someone else needs that bed.”

He sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, reluctantly getting out of bed.

He began reluctantly heading to the door just as a large figure entered. Lady Stark’s face visibly lit up as her husband entered the infirmary. “What are you doing here?” the joy clear in her voice.

All the injured members of the Night’s Watch could not resist glaring at their lord as he passed, jealous of his wife’s favor towards him. The only glare that Cregan noticed was Clarreth, but seeing that the boy was so young and unassuming, he did not bother to address it with him. “I thought I should check in on you,” he answered, settling a hand on her waist. “Who was that?” he asked, nodding over to the boy’s retreating form.

“Oh, that’s Clarreth. He was knocked over during sparring and insisted on having a bed. I think he holds some affection for me.”

“My love, all the men here hold some affection for you. Even the Lord Commander,” Cregan stated bluntly. His wife just blushed, especially as he absentmindedly tugged her fichu up, maintaining her modesty. “Well, I can see that you are busy and I am in the mood for some sparring. I will see you at dinner,” he bid, pressing a chaste kiss to her hairline before backing away from her, a grin on his face.

She just stood there, smiling after him for a moment. Her trance was only broken by repeated attempts to get her attention from wounded soldiers.

“My lady! My lady! Lady Stark!” a voice finally caught her attention. Surprised, she whirled around to find a man who she had previously treated lying holding his arm. “I believe my stitches tore.”

“Oh!” she cried, grabbing a rag to begin putting pressure on the wound. She held the man’s upper arm firmly. “Karden, come hold pressure,” she shouted across the room. The guard came running over immediately.

“Are you sure?” the man questioned. “I much prefer you to hold my arm,” he flirted.

The lady just rolled her eyes as she moved to grab some thread and the needle she had used earlier. Crouching by the bed she observed his arm, finding the first three stitches missing rather than torn. With a brow furrowed in confusion, she found bloody clumps of thread on the bed along with the man’s bloody fingers. Her jaw fell slack with disgust and surprise. “Di- did you rip out your own stitches?” she gasped.

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?” he smiled.

The woman looked at him like he had three heads. She took a breath, gritting her teeth. “I will stitch you up one more time and if you rip them out again, or even accidentally tear them, I will leave you to bleed. Is that clear?” she demanded.

The man only smirked. “Understood, my lady,” he smiled before settling back against the bed.

Reluctantly, the woman began stitching before looking to the new injury that stumbled into the room. Quirking a brow, she observed two men entering, one clearly not well as his arm was slung over the shoulder of another man, looking like he was near unconsciousness.

“Take him to bed three,” the healer directed. The man holding him complied, staggering under the weight of his friend. “What happened?”

“Said he wanted to spar with Lord Stark. He got him onto his knees and knocked him out with the hilt of his sword.”

“Mother,” the woman breathed, observing the large welt forming on the man’s hairline. “Here,” she said, grabbing a rag from a freezing bucket of water. “Can you have him hold this against his injury? Get it cold again as it warms but just keep him awake,” she asked.

“Of course,” the uninjured man agreed.

She thanked him before moving to check on the other wounded men occupying the beds. “Karden,” she called over her guard.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Can you bandage him up and kick him out?” she asked, nodding over to the man who had ripped out his stitches. But as she looked at him he winked, blowing her a kiss.

“Of course, my lady. Would you like me to report him to Lord Stark as well?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head, heading over to one of the beds that held a bleeding member of the Night’s Watch, checking on his bandages. She made her rounds as Karden removed the man from the infirmary. Fortunately, he didn’t make too much of a fuss, just a few angry remarks before walking himself out.

After another hour of bandaging up injuries, many of them reportedly coming from Cregan as he seemingly sparred with every member of the Night’s Watch, Lady Stark was exhausted. But it seemed she had settled most of her patients. The men stopped coming as often and those who truly needed to stay in the infirmary were all resting, the rest having been sent back to their duties or the barracks.

Taking a seat at the desk set up in the infirmary, she took another moment to breathe. The door then opened again, revealing the side of Drommen as he allowed another man in. Reluctantly Lady Stark looked up at him with a polite smile. “What may I help you with?” she asked.

Feigning the best hoarse voice he could, Kerith spoke. “I was in the training yard and got knocked down and something feels wrong in my chest,” he rasped, holding his chest.

Genuine concern drew over the healer’s face as she stood. “Go over to one of the empty beds and remove your furs and tunic. I will come check on you in a moment,” she directed. The man nodded before going over to the furthest bed.

After giving him a moment to undress, the lady went over. “Okay, lie back,” she instructed. “I am going to listen to your breathing.” The man complied as she stooped down, placing an ear against his bare chest. “Take several deep breaths for me.”

Kerith did as instructed, his breathing sounding perfectly normal. Confused, the woman moved to his other lung, listening again, but before she could pull away, the man grabbed her head, pushing her down. She let out a yelp of surprise as he shoved her face into his fortunately still clothed crotch. But as she tried to pull away, his fingers grabbed a fist full of her hair, shoving her face further into his body.

Hearing the scream, Karden immediately ran over, a hand on his sword as he grabbed the man’s hand. “Let Lady Stark go,” he demanded. But Kerith just ignored him, savoring the feeling of something other than his own hand touching his cock. Unsheathing his sword, Karden brought it to the man’s throat. “Unhand her or I will kill you right here,” he threatened.

Reluctantly, Kerith let go, releasing the now crying woman who slumped down onto the floor next to the bed. Karden wasted no time yanking the man from the bed, his torso still bare, and marching him out of the infirmary.

Meanwhile, Drommen was rushing over to his lady’s side as the conscious men watched on from their beds. “Are you alright, my lady?” he asked, kneeling beside the weeping woman. She did not answer as she tried to make the tears stop but they just kept coming as she found her breath becoming shallow. “Come, I will bring you to Lord Stark,” he told her, helping her up.

Outside, Karden found his lord in the training yard, standing with the Lord Commander and First Ranger, observing a fight. Knowing that the Warden of the North would not let this transgression pass, he shouted across the training yard, “Lord Stark!”

The crowd fell silent, even the fighters ceasing as the Winterfell guard marched the half naked member of the Night’s Watch to his lord, throwing the man at his feet. “My lord,” Karden began, “this brother of the Night’s Watch has committed a transgression against you and your wife that I will not let go unreported,” he practically spat. “Whilst Lady Stark was attempting to help this man, he grabbed her by the hair and forced her face into his crotch.”

The yard was deathly quiet, no man daring to speak as the Lord of the North processed his loyal guard’s words. Inside, fury burned within Cregan as he stared down at the man like he was scum on his boot. He gifted these men with the thing most cherished by him and they disrespected him in such an egregious way? He could not allow that.

Beside him, the Lord Commander took a step forward to look at his man. “Is this true?” he questioned.

Kerith sat up on his knees, angrily spitting the dirt from his mouth. “Aye. Just because he is the Lord of the North, why should he get to bring a toy just to parade it under our noses?”

By now, Lady Stark had entered the training yard, under the arm of Drommen. Cregan observed his wife’s tear-stricken face, the rage inside him burning brighter but the words dying on his tongue as he looked at her across the yard.

“That is your liege lady,” Vander spat.

“Fuck her titles,” the man spat. “She’s meant to fuck. A man was meant to have the pleasures of a woman and well, she’s the only one around. I say, whoever beats her husband gets to fuck her.”

Several murmurs erupted from the crowd, with a few of Winterfell’s guards stepping forward to detain him. But Cregan just held up a hand, a cruel smile finding its way onto his lips. Stooping down, he got close to Kerith’s face. “You want to fight me for the right to fuck my wife?” he repeated incredulously. “Is that really your proposal?” he dared.

“Aye,” Kerith agreed. “I know we give up women when we take the oath but the way I see it, if I best the Warden of the North, then I am released from the oath and gifted his wife.”

Cregan wanted nothing more than to shove the measly little worm before him back into the dirt but kept his composure. The cruel smile once again graced his features as he stood. “Fine,” he agreed, releasing his cloak from around his shoulders and grasping his greatsword, Ice. “Someone get him a sword,” he called, his eyes never leaving Kerith. “I’ve been making quick work of your brothers all day.”

The murmurs among the crowd returned, louder this time. Next to Drommen and a few other Winterfell guards who had noticed their lady, Cregan’s wife let out a whimper. She moved to step forward but Drommen’s firm grasp halted her. “Don’t,” he warned.

In the center of the yard Kerith stood determinedly, a sword in hand. He had bested nearly every ranger here, surely the lord who spent his days cooped up in a cozy castle was slow and clumsy with a sword as large as Ice.

Cregan circled the man calmly, waiting for him to make the first move. It seemed he was quite slow as Kerith did not strike until Cregan had nearly completed the circle around him. But the Lord of the North saw it coming as the man’s body tensed in preparation to attack. He dodged the repugnant man easily, the flat of his sword swinging around to slap the man’s back, sending him crashing to the ground. Cregan created some distance between the man and himself, allowing him to recover.

Incensed, Kerith made another wild attack at his lord, to which Cregan met with a surprising defensive force. Bringing his sword up, he held strong against the watchman’s attack, his large frame easily pushing the smaller man back.

At the display of strength Kerith began to appreciate the gravity of the situation. The Lord of Winterfell was strong and trained in combat by the best swordsmasters the North had to offer. Perhaps a more erratic approach would throw the large lord off enough to earn him a victory.

So he approached the lord wildly, swinging his sword as if he were merely a boy again swinging a wooden sword. Cregan met it surprisingly well, managing to block all the man’s blows. Whilst he had merely been toying with the watchman before, as he came at him with a new ferocity, Cregan was ready to end the man that had so egregiously violated and dishonored his wife.

He met Kerith’s attacks with ferocity, finally putting his opponent on the defense. That was, until he got in close, giving advantage to the man with a shorter sword that allowed him to barely swipe the blade against his side. It was hardly a slice but a slice nonetheless. But ever the experienced fighter, Cregan did not let it hinder him, rather the rage that this man could defile his wife and then wound him fueled the lord. Drawing his arm down, his elbow knocked into his opponent’s blade before striking up again, his greatsword plunging into the man’s abdomen so far the Valyrian steel emerged from his back.

Cregan watched with cruelty in his eyes as the vanquished man’s eyes grew wide before his legs gave out, sending him crashing to the ground, his body coming free from the blade. The lord looked away from the dead man at his feet towards the men surrounding him. “Would anyone else like a go for my wife’s hand?” he shouted with such ferocity that even if he hadn’t just killed a man, the rest of them would be too frightened to approach.

After several beats of silence, the Lord Commander spoke. “Everyone back to your duties. Go!” his voice boomed across the yard. The men needed no reminder as they all quickly and quietly headed to various buildings.

Finally, Drommen relaxed his grip enough so his lady could reach her husband. She wasted no time ripping out of her arms and going to her husband’s large form, immediately placing a tender hand against his side, careful not to hurt his wound.

“Cregan, oh my gods,” she cried.

Disregarding her gentleness, he wrapped his strong arms around her, crushing her into his side but she was quick to pull away, far more concerned about her husband’s wound than he was. Turning, she found the guards that had surrounded her still standing there, “Prepare Lord Stark a warm bath in our chambers,” she requested before turning back to her husband again.

Cregan practically melted looking at her teary, concerned eyes. “I am alright, I have suffered worse,” he assured. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, although her sniffle was unconvincing. “I am. Come, let’s get you stitched up and in the bath,” she said, pressing herself against his uninjured side, meaning to support him but Cregan just walked with ease like the war tested hero he was.

Once in their chambers, they found a steaming tub of water. “Sit there,” she directed him towards a short stool that had been left.

Cregan complied as he watched his wife fretfully go over to her trunk, pulling out a sewing kit. As she came back over to him, kneeling next to him, he noticed her trembling hands and her distraught face. “Hey,” he stopped her, grabbing her shaking hands in his large, still ones. “Take a breath,” he advised her. She listened, letting out a shuddering breath. “There,” he praised softly, his hand running down her arm. “I do not mean to offend, my love, but I’d prefer if you weren’t shaking when you stitched me up.”

Fortunately she laughed at his teasing, nodding in agreement as she took shuddering breaths to compose herself. Reaching over, she grabbed a fistful of his tunic’s hem, pressing it up. Her husband took the hint, helping her to remove it. She then pressed on his shoulder so he would rest his back against the wall, stretching the wound so he would not be restricted with his stitches. But before he would let her begin, he tapped his fingers against her hip, urging her closer to him. He kept pressing, in a silent request, until she had climbed into his lap, but she moved herself to straddle his thighs, careful to keep her skirts away from his wound. She then sent him a teasing glare to his proud smile as she got to work stitching him up. By the end, he hadn’t complained or even moved once. The only indication that he was conscious as she stitched was his firm grip on her hip.

“Okay,” she said, climbing off of him. “I will bandage you after your bath,” she gestured to the still steaming tub that had probably cooled down to an appropriate temperature.

Cregan didn’t say anything as he stripped his clothes, getting into the bath without hesitation while his wife cleaned up. After he settled, she came over with a rag, intending to clean him but a strong yet gentle grip on her wrist stopped her before she could even begin.

Looking up at her husband in confusion she found nothing but pain on his face. “Please forgive me,” he begged quietly.

Shocked confusion ran through her. “What?”

“Forgive me,” he repeated. “For bringing you here where a man, one of my men, tried to take advantage of you and your kindness.”

“Cregan, it is not your fault,” she was quick to assure, pulling away slightly. “It is no one’s fault but his.”

Cregan looked unconvinced but nodded anyways. After a beat of silence he finally let go of her wrist. “Join me?” he asked. She hesitated for a moment making him think the worse. “If you want to,” he added. “I understand if you are uncomfortable wit-”

“No,” his wife was quick to dismiss her concerns. She just nodded, beginning to strip her layers off and untie her dress until she was bare before him. A sight Cregan had missed between all the travel and cold.

Seeing as her husband occupied the entire tub, she settled on his thighs, just below his hips. His fingers found her womanhood, teasing her in the way he knew made her putty in his hands. She let out soft moans as he tried to coax her to rest her chest against his but she just stayed upright, wary of his injuries.

As her husband’s fingers coaxed her closer and closer to the edge, she reached down, finding his already hard cock, her fingers giving it a few strokes before she moved her hips, making Cregan’s fingers pull away as she settled herself sinking down onto his cock. Her whine matched his groan at the intrusion, both missing the other’s body.

“Gods, Cregan,” she whined, her hips already falling into a smooth rhythm. “Tell me I’m yours,” she begged.

Cregan smiled softly, agreeing without any hesitation as his hips met hers. “You’re mine,” he confirmed, wrapping an arm around her to pull her even closer. “You’re mine,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to her temple before burying his face in her hair again.

Masterlist

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> and for the ghosts that haunt me

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 3.6k tw: anxiety, mentions of bullying, panic attacks, blood, use of slut shaming italics are interviews cut between scenes + english a/n: this is a retelling of a story that is extremely close to my heart. school bullying is NOT a joke, and remember that you're beautiful, strong and that no matter what anyone else says - you define who and what you are. if any of the above trigger warnings trigger you - scroll away, stay safe, and come back for the next one 💓

“Cyana!”

Cyana turned to greet her, a mysterious, faceless young girl whose voice sounded all too familiar. 

“Chloe, hey.” She smiled, a wave of fond memories washing over her as she reminisced about what used to be. “I’ve missed you.”

“We saw each other yesterday, silly.” Chloe laughed, the sound sending sudden chills down Cyana’s spine. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cyana asked, noticing the sinister glare behind Chloe’s friendly smile. “Chloe?”

“You really don’t know, huh?” Chloe chortled, eyes dancing with mirth, relishing in the glory Cyana’s confusion and fear gave her. “God, you really are dense. Just like your mother. Bet you won’t go to university, just like her.” 

“Stop that.” Cyana protested, and a sudden sense of deja vu washed over her. This had happened before. “What’s going on, Chloe? Aren’t we friends?” 

“Psh.” Chloe hid a smirk behind her hand. “You’re way too naive to be sixteen, Cyana.” 

Sixteen? She frowned. She was way past sixteen now. Turning twenty one just a couple months ago had hit her like a truck. She didn’t feel her age. In her head she was still sixteen, huddled behind bathroom stalls and hanging her head low in hallways. 

“Cyana?” A familiar voice spoke out of Chloe’s face. “Cyana?”

She blinked. 

“Chan?” 

The familiar face of her self-proclaimed twin and tour roommate hovered over her, blurred and hazy as she blinked up at him. Gentle fingers placed her glasses on the bridge of her nose, and a worried Chan came into clear view. 

“Are you okay, Nana? You were crying out for something.”

She sat up, nearly bumping into him as she looked around, disoriented. “I- just a dream.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan echoed the words his hyungs used to say years ago. “I used to get nightmares too. Jeonghan always said talking about it would make it easier.” 

She shook her head. 

“Cyana, she-” Dino paused, thinking. “She doesn’t like talking about herself very much. Sometimes I wonder if I really know her at all, and then I shake myself out of it because- she’s my twin. Of course I know her well. There are just some things she’s not ready to share yet.” 

Cyana could feel her hands shaking as she packed for LA. Although she had been mentally counting down the days of tour leading up to it, she hadn’t realized it’d be so soon. 

“Nana-yah?” Joshua knocked against the wall of her hotel room, poking his head in. “Are you all ready? We’re leaving soon.”

She hummed, keeping her head low, scared he’d pinpoint her red eyes and accuse her of crying. “Almost done.” 

Nothing ever got past Joshua.

“Are you alright?”

Cyana really wished people would stop asking her that.

“I’m fine.” 

“Cyana, she-” Joshua let out a breathy laugh. “Her tolerance for things is too high for her own good.” 

Lingering by her door, Joshua’s eyebrows were pulled tight as he watched Cyana continue packing, her hands quivering under the dim lights of the room. A storm cloud was starting to stir within him, something deeply unsettling and worrying hovering just above the horizon - Joshua could sense it. 

“I was never good at weaseling the truth out from others. Or forcing them to tell me. That was Cheol’s job. But he wasn’t there.” Joshua gave the camera a weary shrug. “It was what it was.” 

Wonwoo was the one who found Cyana on the cold tiles of the airport bathroom, ten minutes before their flight to LA. 

Pushing the door open with the brunt of his shoulder, Wonwoo crashed into the single occupant stall, disheveled and frantic as he stared at the girl sprawled across the tiles. 

“Cyana?” He gasped out, catching his breath as he bent down, moving her hair away from her face. “Everyone’s looking for you. What-” Reality hit him like a rock as he realized the severity of the situation. There were dozens, if not hundreds of fans outside, and Cyana was currently lying on the floor, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Where does it hurt?” 

Her blurry eyes looked up to meet him as she took in his features. “Wonu?” 

“Yeah.” His hands hovered shakily over her frame as his mind short-circuited, scared to move her but equally scared to let her stay on the floor. “The floor is unsanitary, Nana.” He mumbled, trying to calm himself as he checked for injuries. “Where does it hurt?”

Her hand moved to her chest. 

“Your-” He paused, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

“I can’t breathe.” 

Ah. Panic attack. Why, Wonwoo had no clue, but at least he was familiar with these.

“Sit up. That’s good.” He braved a smile as he helped Cyana situate herself so she was leaning against the wall. Sitting down in front of her, Wonwoo spread his long legs in an uncomfortable position, but favourable for holding her as close as she needed. “Breathe. Slowly.”

He felt her whole body shake as she inhaled. 

“Breathe again.” He whispered, painfully aware of the time ticking away - a plane waiting to be caught. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

He felt her shake her head, her hair brushing against his chin as she did.

“Please.” 

“I don’t want to go to LA.” 

Wonwoo had suspected so. “Why?” 

Cyana didn’t know what compelled her to tell him everything - but she did, crying on the bathroom floor in some grimy airport, covered in his arms. Wonwoo stayed silent as she spoke, his strong arms holding her together like glue as tears fell from his own eyes, mirroring the ones in hers. 

“Yeah, I knew. I knew everything.” Wonwoo told the camera, revealing the truth after nearly six months. “But once she had collected herself back together again, she told me to keep everything to myself. So that’s what I did.” 

“Cyana, you need to get out of bed.” 

Dino watched from his spot on his own bed, as Joshua gently scolded his roommate. He was confused why an usually active and energetic Cyana had been lounging in bed all day, practically every day since they had landed in LA. 

“Shua hyung’s right, Nana.” Dino quietly voiced his opinion, frowning when Cyana grumbled unhappily. “What’s been going on with you? So grumpy.”

“We’re here for our concert, right? So I don’t have to go outside.” Cyana argued, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. “Please don’t make me go out.”

“We’re here for a week, Nana.” Joshua sighed, exasperated. “You can’t stay here all week.”

Cyana’s lower lip jutted out. “Watch me.” 

Dino watched the whole exchange like a tennis match, his head turning back and forth as he watched them speak, confused by the sudden switch in language. “Nana.” He tried again, thinking maybe she’d be more receptive if it was coming from him. “Please? You said you’d take me sightseeing.” 

Cyana hesitated. She had agreed to Dino’s ask for her to be his tour guide, but that was before - 

“Okay, fine.” She relented, unable to take back her promise. “But only today. And we’re avoiding the popular spots.” 

Dino only got up excitedly, hurriedly getting ready and grabbing his bag. Joshua, on the other hand, frowned at her words. Avoid the popular spots? But why? Even as idols, they could often roam around unfazed, especially in the states, where Seventeen was yet to be a household name. 

“I was already worried then.” Joshua told the interviewer solemnly. “But we had enough bad vibes going around and- I guess I was praying it was all in my head, and that she was actually perfectly fine.” 

“You run away from your past until it all eventually coils up and attacks you all at once.” Cyana let out a defeated laugh. “LA was full of demons- demons I had fled to Korea to avoid. And now- well, tour had brought me right back where I started.” 

Cyana stared out into the vast ocean of fanlights trying to catch her breath. Joshua had told her - moments before running onstage - to just breathe. To ignore everything else around her and to just concentrate on the performance, on them. It was easier said than done because now, looking out into the crowd, all Cyana could think about was the probability of one of those fanlights being someone she knew. 

A small, miniscule possibility - but it terrified her nonetheless. The same kids that had threatened to destroy her could very well be staring up at her from the sea of fans and she felt too vulnerable. 

“Breathe.” 

Wonwoo appeared next to her, waving to the fans in their section but solely concentrated on her. He could hear her harsh breathing through the screams. “Breathe, Nana.” He reminded her gently.

It felt comforting knowing at least one person knew everything she was going through. 

Taking her hand and placing it on his chest, Wonwoo’s eyes fixed on hers, his expression serious but worried. “Breathe - like me. In and out.” 

Cyana did her best to follow the rhythm. “I’m trying.” She gasped out. 

“Good.” Wonwoo smiled, and Cyana basked in the light of it. “You’re okay.” 

“Mhm.” She nodded. She could make it through the concert - concentrated solely on the two of them, the little bubble that Wonwoo’s presence created around her.

Cyana could barely see her own hands as she stumbled offstage, making her way down the stairs the moment the stage screen had closed behind them. Her heartbeat was taking over her senses, drowning out the farewell cheers of the crowd. 

Reaching a hand up to touch her face, she let out a harsh sigh of both relief and disbelief. She was still alive. 

“Nana?” DK’s voice cut through the incessant hum in her ears. “Are you okay?” 

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she flinched away violently. “Don’t touch me.” She yelped out, terrified as she spun around. 

“Okay, I’m sorry!” DK yelped back, equally terrified by her sudden reaction. “You just don’t look so well and I thought- you might need a hand.” 

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine.” Cyana couldn’t believe she had just snapped at DK, who looked at her with hurt in his eyes as she stumbled away towards their changing rooms. 

“She looked almost drunk.” DK confided to the interviewer. “Stumbling around backstage, her hands digging into her neck and ripping out her in-ears. She looked sick. It was terrifying.” 

“I’ll go after her.” Joshua called out towards the rest of the group, who were all frozen, unsure of what to do. 

“Wait.” Wonwoo grabbed his arm, stopping him. “She’s not in her right mind right now. Something must have happened during the farewell ment. I’ll talk to her.” 

“Are you sure?” Joshua eyed the younger boy warily. Since when had Wonwoo and Cyana gotten this close? 

Wonwoo nodded, and Joshua could sense he knew something the others did not. 

Running after her, Wonwoo skidded to a stop as he spotted Cyana sitting, half lying down on one of the makeup chairs. 

“Cyana.” He approached her, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. He didn’t know what mindset she was in at the moment. “Nana-yah.” He reached out a hand to steady her, keeping her upright as she threatened to spill on the floor. “Look at me.” 

“I’m sorry.” She panted out, her eyes unfocused. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” The English felt strange against his tongue, but it got some sort of recognition from the girl as she raised her head to meet his eyes. 

“It’s all my fault.” 

“What is? Cyana, what?” 

“Don’t hurt me.” 

Wonwoo froze. “I’d never hurt you, Cyana.” 

“Chloe.” 

“Is that her name? The girl who hurt you back in school? The reason you left?” The questions left him in a flurry as he kept her upright, her entire body weight against his. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out. “Nana. I know you’re struggling, but you need to get it together. Please. Just until we’re back in the car.” 

Her eyes were glassy and her stare seemed to go straight through him. 

“Please.” He pushed up his glasses to wipe his tears away. Her condition scared him. 

“I don’t know how Wonwoo managed to get me back in the car.” Cyana spoke quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t remember much about that night - after the concert. But the others told me I was a mess. A zombie. Living in my skin but not quite there.” 

Cyana watched from her place on the bed as Dino paced back and forth across their shared hotel room. Wonwoo had deposited her there, promising to be back once he had found Joshua, instructing a worried Dino to look after her in his absence. 

It infuriated Cyana that they were all treating her like glass, even though she knew the emotion was unfair. They were doing their best - and she could feel herself shutting down, her safety mechanisms whirring back into place.

Dino’s footsteps seemed to thud inside her head each time he moved. Her heart was racing as she recalled the familiar face she had seen in the crowd during their farewell ment. How she yelled out her name, and that all too familiar threat. I’ll destroy you, Cyana. She had. She will. 

“Could you stop moving?” She suddenly snapped, startling Dino out from his stupor. 

He looked up from his phone and frowned. “What?” Cyana had never used such a tone with him before. 

“Just- you’re being so fucking loud and it’s actually exploding my head and it’s just- too much!” She yelled out, her hands shaking as she balled them up into fists. “Just-” She forced herself to quiet down, although her body still shook with pent up rage. “Sleep somewhere else tonight.” 

“What?” Dino’s irises shook with pooling tears. 

Cyana looked away. 

“I want to be alone tonight.” Her voice grew weaker. “Please.” 

“Oh.” 

She couldn’t bear to look at the hurt that must be across his face right now.

“Okay.”

The door clicked shut behind him. 

Cyana sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over her as she squeezed her eyes shut, silent tears pooling from the corners. 

She had never felt so horrible. 

“You need to tell me what’s happening.” Joshua ambushed her the next morning, setting a breakfast bun and a cup of milk on her bedside drawer.

“Josh. It’s like seven in the morning.” She mumbled, tugging the sheets closer to her as she rolled away. 

She was tugged back by a stronger but gentle hand. “I don’t care if it’s seven in the morning.You need to tell me what’s going on.” 

Cyana knew he was right. 

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Her shoulders slouched as she sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “There’s too much.” 

“Start at the beginning.” Joshua sat down on the bed and turned to face her. 

“I don’t know what I was expecting, really.” Joshua told the interviewer. “Something about school, or acting, I was sure. But not what really happened. No sane person would’ve expected that. Especially for it to happen to Cyana.” 

Joshua listened as Cyana spoke, her voice strangely calm as she led him through it all - starting brand new in highschool, making friends, feeling included. His expression grew darker and darker as the story progressed, eyebrows furrowing as he imagined little Cyana in the scenarios she was speaking of right now. 

Cyana told him everything. How her close friends- her ride or dies had betrayed her, turning against her all because of rumors a girl had spread to her classmates. How they had bullied her out of school- out of LA entirely. 

“Chloe.” Joshua finally said after she had finished, gently wiping away a lonely tear that had fallen on her cheek. “I heard Wonwoo muttering about that name.” 

Cyana nodded. “She was one of my best friends. You know those people who take your phone and unlock it- and you don’t even bat an eye? Or how you subconsciously hand over your bubble tea for them to try. The first person you call when something good or bad happens to you. She was that for me.”

“And she turned everyone against you?” 

She hummed. It was a strange feeling - to re-explore the past. Cyana had found she never had any trouble when talking about it, because it’d always sound like a story she had made up. She’d forget it had actually happened to her. That is, until the stories become reality once again. “She said she’d destroy me. And she did. I never found out why, why she woke up one day and decided I was no longer a person who could feel anything she threw at me.”

“And being back in LA, like, triggered something?” 

“I guess. I was- it’s silly.” 

Joshua shook his head. “Nothing’s ever silly when it comes to stuff like this.” 

“Well, I- I was scared my classmates would find me at our concert and try to- hurt me. Or hurt one of you.” Cyana looked down at her lap, her cheeks burning. “It’s stupid.” 

“No.” His voice was firm enough to make her look up at him again. “It’s not. Every fear, however irrational you might think it is, stems from something.” 

Cyana nodded. “When did you get so wise, Shua?” 

Joshua’s lips twitched. “I’ve always been wise.” His expression sterned as he remembered his initial question. “You saw someone, didn’t you? At the farewell ment.” 

She let out a cough, choking on her spit. “How did you know?” 

Joshua let out a dry chuckle. “I think everyone could tell something went wrong during the ment.” 

“I saw her. Chloe. Standing front row, waving a Vernon banner.” 

“What did she do?” 

“She yelled my name, so I turned around and-” Cyana hesitated, as if the words refused to leave her mouth. “She said she’d destroy me. Just like she did in high school.” 

Joshua let out a shaky sigh. “You need to tell Coups. Or management.” 

Cyana’s hand shot out to grab Joshua’s leg. “No!” She protested. “I’m sure it’s just in my head or something. We’re leaving LA soon anyways, it’ll-” She tried pasting a smile on her face, as if to reassure both herself and Joshua it’d be okay. “I’ll be fine.” 

Joshua hesitated before agreeing. “Alright. But if anything else happens-”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Cyana finished for him. “I promise.” 

Joshua stood up, gesturing to the breakfast still sitting on her bedside table. “Eat. You’ve been rotting in that bed for two days. And take a shower after. Nasty.” 

She let out a laugh and Joshua brightened visibly at the sound. 

“She’s better now.” He told Mingyu, who was waiting anxiously by her door as he stepped out, closing it behind him. “Opened up. Laughing even.” 

“Thank god.” Mingyu’s shoulders relaxed. 

“You should go shower too.” Joshua made a face as he walked away. “You’ve been rotting by her door ever since she went in. You too, Dino.” He added, spotting the boy who was sitting on the floor in the hallway, eyes unfocused. “Get some sleep, she’s fine.” 

Cyana could hear all this through the walls, as she slid back into bed, her breakfast lying cold beside her. Her stomach churned at the thought of eating, and her heart weighed heavy knowing she had slighted Joshua. 

Sure, she had told him the truth about what was going on- what had happened. But she wasn’t better. She knew they’d worry themselves sick and be rendered useless the rest of tour if she didn’t get her act together - so that’s what she did. She acted. Thank god for her acting background, or she would’ve collapsed into Joshua’s arms sobbing. She nearly did, but she caught herself.

After all, Cyana was glue. Flexible, strong, hard to get rid of. Whatever broke her down, she’d get back together, she was sure of it. 

“Cyana.” 

She found herself back in her school’s gymnasium, surrounded by fellow classmates all dressed up. She knew this night. Spring Fling night - where dating was overlooked for one night in an all Catholic school. 

“Cyana.” 

She turned, and realized who was behind her. 

“Matthew.” She gasped out. He hadn’t aged at all, his hair was still infuriating lopsided, curls never landing straight, his eyes crinkled up in a large smile. “What-”

“I heard you’re so obsessed with me you wrote me over 200 songs.” His loud mouth split into a nightmarish grin. “Slut. You spread your legs open for anyone, huh.”

“What?” Cyana gaped at him. But- she had heard all this before. 

“Cyana! Look over here!” 

She turned, and blinked as a bright camera flash blinded her. 

“I’m framing this so I can jack off to it later.” The boy who held the camera was faceless. “You let Matthew, so why not me?”

“I don’t-” 

“Cyana!”

“Wonwoo?”

She turned around once again, greeted by Wonwoo, dressed in a pale blue suit, his hair pale white. He smiled at her with his hand outstretched. 

“Dance with me?”

She let out a breath of relief, reaching her hand out to take it. All of a sudden, something came flying towards them, causing Wonwoo to slump to the floor, blood dripping from his side, his glasses askew on his face.

“Wonwoo!” 

“You really thought we’d let you get your happy ending?” Someone laughed from the shadows of the party, the disco lights reflected against shadowed figures. “After I said I’d destroy you?”

She glanced back down at Wonwoo, who was on the floor, his eyes wide and frozen. She stifled a scream. 

“Cyana!”

“Cyana! Wake up!” 

a/n: oof. this one's a heavy one. i really wanted to bring this story into cyana's character - and if you can relate to any part of it - hope her journey to healing can help you in yours. fighting !! and remember: kindness is supposed to be a guarantee, not a "if."

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part two)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: reader recently decided to get a physics tutor...it's time for the first session with jayce talis

notes: walk with me and suspend ur disbelief in the actual physics talk...i have to make it somewhat believable that they're actually having tutoring sessions so i dug into the crevices of my brain for old physics topics that aren't too hard if you know them...if you don't..hopefully jayce makes sense LMAOOOO. but i will try not to do too much physics that it takes you out of it, i just want to build the tension and relationship. just trust me.

again mentions of neurodivergence/adhd references but that’s it really

word count: 1.9k

series masterlist

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Ekko was your longest friend—the closest one you had. He understood your brain even more than Viktor did, which was saying something. Since the day the two of you met in middle school, you became accustomed to one another. You knew each other like the back of your hands—which is why you knew he’d be so upset right now.

Immediately after leaving the student center, you scrambled to the dining hall. You and Ekko had a standing lunch date every day unless one of you said otherwise. There wasn’t always anything to say, but the idea of each other’s company comforted you—comforted him. He had been adamant that even if you two sat in silence, worked on classwork, or simply watched something on your phones, that the time was well spent.

Ekko valued these meetings in particular after his last girlfriend. You didn’t talk about Powder much…but he was devastated when she left town. The three of you had been friends for a long time…she’d abandoned you too. Acknowledging how much harder it may have been for Ekko was hard. You were forced to pick up the pieces and it started with daily check-ins over lunch. They stuck. 

You spotted him sitting alone, sipping on his drink through the glass. You tapped on it softly, getting his attention, waving.

He lit up when you approached the table, “Funny seeing you here.” Ekko looked at his watch dramatically, “Almost thought you couldn’t tell time for a second there.” 

“I am so sorry.” You moved to sit, pulling out the chair across from him. “I got caught up at the student center, needed a tutor for physics.” 

Ekko watched you reach and grab his bag on the table. He rolled his eyes knowingly—you were going for the fries of course. 

You continued, “Viktor recommended this guy, his lab partner.” 

Ekko nodded, “Thats great…but I’m also good at physics ya know?” 

“Oh yes, I totally forgot to ask my best friend to be my tutor. My best friend who knows I cannot stay on topic to save my life…wants me to ask him to be my tutor…so we can definitely not work on physics for the entire session.” You paused, a fry just on your lip, “Besides, I didn’t really have a choice.” 

“Okay first, I would be a great tutor! And second, what do you mean, didn’t have a choice?” 

“Viktor kinda just…led me there?” 

“So you didn’t have a chance to get yourself worked up and find a way to not go…great tactic on Viktor’s part.” 

There was a silence, but never uncomfortable when you were with Ekko. You smiled to yourself at that, and then about how surprisingly well the first meeting went. 

“He seemed nice…Jayce…my tutor.” 

Ekko reached into his bag, grabbing his sandwich. “Am I sensing a but?” 

“No, actually. He just seemed genuinely invested in me not feeling bad when it comes to sucking at school.” You paused, rubbing your hands in a napkin. “He said we could work on making it all seem more interesting…which I liked.” Ekko still hadn’t unraveled his sandwich, listening intently. You watched him observe you, but not speak up. “What?” 

He shook his head, “Nothing…that’s great.” 

The rest of your lunch was spent quietly recounting your days, not much of note happening otherwise. Eventually, you parted ways with an unspoken yet understood promise that you would see each other tomorrow. 

Your first session with Jayce was also tomorrow. That was on top of everything else you had to do. So much to be done…such little time, you thought. 

The following day came just as quickly as the previous had ended. You woke in a frenzy, almost always rushing to and from one class and toward the next. Then, to tutoring. 

You stumbled in, looking for any familiar face. You were met with only one, Jayce’s. He stood quickly, grabbing a folder and his bag before approaching you. 

“Right on time.” He turned, walking you toward a room off to the side. “This will be the office we use, I requested one with a white board.” He glanced back at you for affirmation before speaking again. “If you ever come for our meetings and don’t see me in the lobby, you can just come in here.” 

“Sounds good.” Your lip curled at your voice coming out more weak than you expected. You had to admire your own consistent ability to embarrass yourself, truly. 

He stepped back, allowing you to walk in first, again. “So…I printed these forms out for you.” He opened the folder, taking out some of the pages and spreading them on the table. “This is the basis for everything you’ll need to know about physics. There’s legends here, conversion charts, some of the greek symbols you’ll need to know, circuit diagrams, acronyms…everything.” You slowly sat in your chair, observing the filled pages. Jayce noticed you looking between the table and him with wide eyes. 

“This is a lot of information…” 

He finally sat down. “It is…but we have time to get you up to speed.” 

“But there’s these quizzes.” You looked down at the table, tapping a finger lightly against the wood. “Every week we have to prove we understood the concept and I am already weeks behind so it just keeps building on things I didn’t even understand to begin with. I don’t have time, I have to pass the quizzes so I can pass the class and keep my scholarship. If I lose my scholarship, I can’t pay for school and I’ll have to drop out. And all of this over stupid fucking physics and a professor who seems to want to ruin my life specifically.” You finally took a breath, “I can’t do this.” 

“I think you can.” 

Your eyes snapped up, meeting his. The look on his face seemed sincere—as if he truly believed in the statement. Hardly knowing you at all, he had enough faith that you could, in fact, do this.

“So,” he clasped his hands together. “What’s this next quiz on? What’s the topic for the week?” He got up, grabbing a marker from the white board’s small shelf. He looked at you expectantly, a brow arching as if to ask you again. 

“Vectors.” 

He nodded, “Okay, and what confuses you about vectors?” 

“Well, I feel like I’m pretty good at understanding angles. But as soon as we add in speed or velocity I am just…confused.” 

“Let’s start there.” He wrote the words speed and velocity on the white board in broad strokes, leaving space beneath each. “What is speed? Don’t think about it too hard.” 

“How fast something is going?” 

“Exactly, like a car.” He drew a makeshift car, and an indicator of both miles and kilometers. “Velocity is different.” He sketched a quick graph, a simple y and x axis and an arrow. “Velocity indicates the direction of an object.” His hand followed the trail of the arrow he drew, emphasizing that it was in motion. “So, velocity is the only one that actually would be considered when you look at vectors. Speed is just a number…velocity represents a change in position…which is what vectors do.” 

You grimaced at his attempt to make it make sense for you. The effort was appreciated, truly, but it didn’t stick. You feigned understanding, nodding your head in an attempt to get him to move on and explain more. This was common for you. Something wouldn’t make sense, but you wouldn’t want to hold everyone up, to be a burden. So you would sit in class, half listening, half in another world. After class, you’d be forced to scour videos about the very subject the teacher had spent class time explaining. Unfortunately that was a rabbit hole, too, as you would always end up on videos that had nothing to do with school. 

His eyes narrowed, not believing that your nod was enough of an indicator that you understood. “Come with me.” He moved to grab the papers for you, stuffing them in the folder and sliding them to you. You followed without a thought, trying to match his steady pace. He lead you to a nearby park down the street and sat his bag underneath a tree. You copied, placing your bag down beside his. It was impossible to not feel awkward, and yet, he persisted. 

“Okay stand here,” he pointed a finger to a random spot on the ground. Your feet stood perfect on the space where the asphalt and grass met, one foot on each side. “So just imagine that standing here, you are the bottom of a line graph along the x-axis. He moved his hand side-to-side, palm down, reminding you that this would be the horizontal line. Hotdogs and hamburgers. You remembered the silly phrase from elementary school. 

“Okay, standing here…x-axis.” 

He walked over to the grass side, “Okay, over here…in the nice green grass…this is positive.” He walked over to the asphalt, “I’m on your left now, on the asphalt…this is negative.” 

“…Okay.” 

He walked to mirror your position, one foot on each terrain. Then, he slowly stepped on the grass. “Without thinking about numbers, how would you describe what I just did.” 

“You…” Your brows furrowed, “You walked to the grass?” 

“Right, and that is-“ 

“Positive?” 

“Exactly.” 

In a split second, he darted over to the asphalt. “How bout now?” 

“You ran to the…to the negative?” 

He nodded, meeting you back at center again. He smirked at how quickly he’d even come up with this demonstration. “This is an example of how vectors work. When you think of me running somewhere, picking up my speed, but moving to the quote unquote ‘negative,’ this could also mean that from my original position-“ 

Your eyes lit up, “You moved backwards?” 

“Yup, or even down. On a graph, I mean.” He smiled with each word, amused by how you caught on to his unorthodox teachings. “But if I move slowly and to the ‘positive’ side?” He waited for you to answer.

“You…moved up or to the right.” 

“Just like a point on a graph.” He stood, hands on his hips. 

You were on the edge of every word he spoke, analyzing his every movement. You knew it was inopportune, but it was rather characteristic for you to lose focus right then. Jayce’s eyes were…interesting. Your first instinct was to say that they were yellow. When you looked closer you noticed the border of dark brown, the flecks of hazel and copper. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen. You got so caught up, you missed his hand coming up—leaving it lingering in the air. 

“What,” he questioned, “Do you not like high-fives as encouragement?” 

You chuckled, finally meeting his hand with yours. “I actually prefer snacks as encouragement, but this works.” 

It was his turn to laugh, then. It was short-lived. You followed his line of sight to see the same woman from the resource center, the one he’d been so enraptured by. Rightfully so; she was even more beautiful than you thought. The sunlight hit her skin just right, almost glistening. You gulped, somewhat intimidated by her presence alone. 

She reached you both, immediately giving Jayce a hug before turning to greet you. 

“Hey, how’s the tutoring going?” She nudged the man beside her, looking to you for an answer. 

“It’s going well,” you glanced at your phone screen, shit. “I actually should get going, but today was really helpful, thank you Jayce, bye.” 

You shuffled to grab your things as quickly as possible, avoiding the look of surprise on Jayce’s face. It didn’t really matter, though. 

Ekko was going to be pissed, again. 

part three

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Chapter 5

Fic Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie make some calls and get to know each other a little more.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, one-sided enemies to lovers, one-sided pining, miscommunication trope, anxious-ish!Reader, fem!Reader, Reader is not described, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.4k

Master List

No beta, you all should know better by now.

“You’re old enough to buy your own now, you know. I’m only gonna up-charge you.” 

“What? Can’t a girl just buy some smokes from her friend?” 

“Right. Friends.”

“Fine, then I’m supporting a local business.” 

“What do you actually want, Stacy?”

“I’m just making sure that you two are going to play nice.”

“What the Hell? Shouldn’t you be telling her that?”

“She’s always nice.”

“Right, and I’m the queen of Sheba.”

“Well then, your majesty, just give me my smokes and I’ll be on my way.”

Bev wasn’t too happy that Eddie was going to be coming in an hour and a half later than expected on his Wednesday shift but she waved it off. The Hideout survived without him for god knows how long, the small dive could handle losing a busboy for a few hours on a weekday night. 

He sauntered into Ms. Benson’s classroom a fashionable ten minutes late, and a few dollars richer. You were already sitting at a desk chatting with Ms. Benson about who-knows-what before taking his own seat on top of the desk. 

If Eddie had to be here, he might as well rebel in his own way. He really would rather be bussing tables and trying to convince Bev to give him extra time on stage than do school services with someone who hated him. 

“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Munson.” Ms. Benson said, ignoring the fact that he was on his desk. She pulled out a thick binder and a rolodex that looked like it would fall apart if she didn’t hold it just so. “In here, you’ll find the budget for Spring Day and all of the different vendors and events that we’ve used over the past ten years.” 

Being the smart woman that she was, she placed the rolodex in front of you and dropped the binder on Eddie’s lap. He raised an eyebrow and flipped through it casually, as if looking through the Spring Day binder would provide him with secrets to the school that he could use to force Higgins to let him graduate this year. 

“There’s a phone in the teachers lounge you can use.” She continued, grabbing her own purse. “Let me know what you come up with on Monday.” 

“Wait- are you leaving?” You asked, jaw dropped as Ms. Benson started out of the room. “You’re not gonna help?”

“There’s only one phone. Just get some quotes for vendors. All of the information is in the binder. Just close the door tight when you leave.”  

Your mouth was still agape as Ms. Benson left, which was very amusing to Eddie. It was dead silent before Eddie burst out in a maniacal cackle that echoed through the classroom and made you jump. That also amused Eddie. 

“Well well, it looks like it’s just us in charge of Spring Day.” He got off the desk and dropped the binder down where he had just been sitting. Eddie leaned over the binder and flipped through it. “I’m thinking evil clowns, adding balloon popping back but with knives, and a petting zoo with snakes and goats.” Eddie turned and grinned wide at you. 

“What, no fortune teller to tell you how you’re gonna die a gruesome death?” Your voice was flat, but Eddie could pick up the hint of amusement in your voice which made his grin widen. 

“I’m sure we can dress you up in something covered in stars. I’ll sit under the table and shake it. We’ll make a killing!” Eddie laughed. 

“A killing? Really?” You shook your head at the terrible joke and flipped through the rolodex with a sour look on your face. Eddie hadn’t meant to make a pun, but if it annoyed you he’d keep it up. 

Play nice.

As if Stacy had any say over what happened between the two of you. He barely knew either of you.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to charge for anything, anyway.” you continued, flipping through the cards almost as fast as Doug flipped through long boxes at the comic shop. 

“What doesn’t kill Higgens won’t hurt us.” Eddie pressed, not even fully invested in the idea himself. Something about his talk with Stacy just got under his skin, and the only way he could shake it was by getting under yours now. 

“I don’t think half of these businesses even exist anymore.” you said to yourself as you kept flipping through the rolodex with your good hand. Eddie sighed and figured you were ignoring him until you continued. “This laundromat shut down last year. I heard it was a front for some mafia and there was a shootout.”

Eddie perked up a little, had that been an attempt at playing along? It wasn’t completely in line, but everyone in town knew that the laundromat had just been flooded from the inside when a pipe burst. 

“There’s no mafia in Hawkins.” Eddie said, looking over your shoulder at the rolodex. “Only cults that sacrifice people to the dark forces.” 

You stopped messing with the rolodex, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d said something wrong. You had apologized before, maybe it was too soon to joke about it? 

Eddie was usually good at reading people, but you were harder to understand. 

“So, what’s the budget that we’re supposed to be working with?” You asked, changing the subject. 

“Three pennies and an expired coupon for Benny’s.” Eddie replied, flipping back to the first page. 

“Yeah, that sounds right. I guess there’s no room in the budget when the basketball team needs new jerseys or the cheerleaders need pom-poms.” you rolled your eyes, done messing with the rolodex. 

Eddie was a little surprised at the dig towards the cheerleaders, considering your best friend was one. Had been one. Why the hell had she wanted to buy smokes from him today?

The two of you finally got up and made your way to the teacher’s lounge. Ms. Teedee, the art teacher, gave him a half hearted wave as she finished washing her coffee cup. Eddie liked Ms. Teedee, she didn’t give a shit about his reputation. Art and shop were the only classes he had ever done consistently well in, so when he was saddled with a third senior year he decided to re-take art as an easy A. 

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon calling places and taking down numbers. You did most of the talking, but Eddie took charge when you got up to use the bathroom. 

Eddie was surprised when you came back, well that you came back. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you had run for the hills and left him alone. But you did come back, two bags of chips in hand. One of them was offered to him. 

“Thanks...?” Eddie didn’t mean for that to come out as a question, but it did anyway. How was it that one minute you hated him, but another you were apologizing? You were scandalized to be left alone with him to work on this, and yet came back with food. 

He shouldn’t trust it, but he also wasn’t too good for free snacks. 

“So, what’s your deal?” Eddie asked, timing his question with you shoving a few large chips in your mouth. 

“Huh?” was your graceful reply as you covered your mouth with your hand. He could see that his timing was not appreciated, which made him feel better. 

“Your deal. Which of these fine cliques here at Hawkins Hell do you belong to?” Eddie elaborated, spreading his arms as if gesturing to a crowd when in reality he was gesturing to the table the phone was sitting on. 

You took a moment to finish chewing, giving him a glare as you finally got the chips down. Okay, maybe Eddie felt a little bad for that, as you had been nice enough to get him a snack. 

Play nice.

He was a dungeon master, he wasn’t known for playing nice. He could at least play fair though. 

“I don’t belong to anyone.” you said finally, flipping through the binder and not looking at him. “I got in late, made friends with Stacy and... I don’t know. This late in the game, cliques aren’t exactly taking new applicants. Not this close to graduation when everyone has known each other since elementary school.” 

Eddie looked at your broken wrist again, looking at all the different signatures. For someone who didn’t belong to any group, you sure were on everyone’s good side. 

Everyone had some group they belonged to. That’s how high school worked. The Freaks sat with him, the Jocks sat with their teams, the Science Nerds sat with the science nerds... that’s how high school- no, that’s how the world worked, according to Eddie. 

Your response would normally have you tucked away as “new kid” or “freshman” but neither of those fit you. You knew too many people. You hung out with an ex-cheerleader, but you weren’t exactly jumping around with excitement at the last pep-rally. Stacy still dressed like a cheerleader, and was just as nosy as one but you didn’t look popular. 

Not that there was anything wrong with the way you looked to Eddie, you just didn’t look or dress like the popular crowd. He could tell you apart from the near identical wave of perms and ponytails. 

What was your deal?

When Eddie didn’t respond in an appropriate amount of time for you, you responded with the same question. 

“What’s your deal, Eddie?” His name sounded foreign coming from your mouth. 

“Huh?” he asked, shoving a chip into his own mouth, mimicking you. You rubbed your face and let out a laugh, to his surprise. 

“What’s your deal? Or, I guess what’s Hellfire’s deal?” You clarified. 

“Well, you see, it’s a fantasy game-” 

“Not a cult?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.” 

“Go on.”

You didn’t interrupt him again as he started explaining the bare basics of the game, figuring that you were just looking for an excuse to stop calling people for a moment. That was fine with Eddie, he’d happily sit here and rant about his favorite game in the teachers lounge, tainting the warden’s space with the game that they tried to hide away from the rest of the inmates. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to be listening so intently. You were looking at him, really really looking at him. If Eddie didn’t know any better, and he liked to think that he did, you seemed to be actually interested in the world he was opening up up to you. 

His eyes glanced down at your cast, and the curly signature of Chrissy Cunningham shimmered slightly on the underside of your cast. Eddie could barely make out her last name, but he could assume that the glitter gel pen signature belonged to the cheerleader. 

That reminded Eddie that, popular or not, you were still in a completely different world than him. One where people actually liked you and didn’t sneer at you for bullshit reasons. 

But then why were you looking at him so intensely? 

“So you’re playing make believe with dice and if you roll high you can do things and if you roll low you eat shit.” You said, crumpling up your bag of chips. 

It was a grossly simplified explanation of the game that Eddie had poured hundreds of hours into. 

“Yeah, basically.” At least that had killed a good fifteen minutes. 

“And you’re god.” You added, which Eddie did appreciate. 

“No, I’m Satan, remember?” He flashed you his most charming smile and you just laughed again. 

“You aren’t that bad.” You sounded like you meant that. 

“Tell that to my players, they say I’m worse than Satan.” He said with pride. 

Your conversation was interrupted by the bell, announcing that any clubs needed to pack up and leave. Eddie took that as your cue that you were done. 

You closed the binder and the notes that you two had taken over the past hour and took a deep breath. 

“Wait, shit, Mrs. Benson left. What do we do with this?” You asked, motioning to the binder and rolodex. “Do we just leave it here?”

Eddie wouldn’t have thought twice about just dumping it on one of the tables and leaving. He still had his shift to get to, but... 

“Come on, we’ll drop it on her desk.” he said, and walked out of the lounge before you could protest. 

You caught up to him a moment later, glaring at him for ditching you and leaving you to scramble with your things. Eddie wasn’t sure if he liked you more when you looked like you were hanging on his every word or looking at him with annoyance. Maybe Eddie just wasn’t sure if he liked you. He sure couldn’t tell if you like him at all. 

“It’s locked.” you said. 

“Barely. Make sure no one’s coming.” Eddie squatted down and pulled out a thin strip of plastic from his coat. He could feel his eyes on him and he looked up at you as you gaped. “Not me, look out for anyone else.” he clarified. 

Once you had looked away and down the hall, it didn’t take more than a few seconds for Eddie to jimmy the lock open. He grabbed the rolodex and the binder from you before you knew what was happening. 

Eddie had broken into the classroom, dropped the items off the desk, and slipped back out into the hallway in less than a minute. 

“How’d you learn to do that?” you asked, following him out towards the parking lot. 

Eddie just shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

It was cool outside, the winter weather seemed to finally be on its way out. A small beep signaled you to the sleek car that Stacy drove and you waved at her. Being the good friend that she was, Stacy had offered to drive you home that night. 

“I guess, I’ll see you next week.” you said to Eddie. 

“Same bullshit time, same bullshit place.” he agreed, watching you hop into the car before heading off towards his own van and drive off. 

“Sooooo, how was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date, it was school.”

“Did you make out in the teachers lounge?” 

“No, I gave him a hand job in the janitor's closet.”

“The one by the gym, or the one by the science lab.”

“The gym. Smelled worse but at least there weren’t any dangerous chemicals.” 

“No, really, tell me what happened.”

“We called different places to get quotes for Spring Day. He also talked about Dungeons and Dragons for fifteen minutes.”

“And then you made out?”

“No.”

“But you wanted to.” 

“....Stacy, I’ve never wanted to blow someone more in my entire life.”

Author Notes: Sorry this took so long, I got so brain dead writing this. I really need to visit more of the source material. I love Eddie, but he just hasn't been talking to me much lately. Hopefully when Rise of Hellfire comes out it'll help lol

Tag List: 

 @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

@sp1dyb0y1008 @projectcampbell @emxxblog @thebadbatchfan

@transparentenemypenguin @ghoulsgraveyard @spread-the-hope @exploding-bonbon @paleidiot

@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta

@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld

@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

@amieinghigh @hazydespair

[amorre1989]

strange visit and a date night

pairing: Spencer Reid; reader; Derek Morgan

word count: 3,8k

story?: After Spencer runs to the grocery store to buy some things to have a date night with you, but, to surprise of both of you, agent Derek Morgan suddenly shows up at his door.

"alright so, eggs, flour, garlic, wine and tomato sauce, is that it?" he asks checking on the list you just gave him.

"perfect" you answer smiling.

"alright, I'll be back in a second" he says, kissing you softly while holding the back of your head gently. You smiled and let him get out of his own apartment. While waiting for him, you decided to do a little cleaning, you had already become a master in "Spencer Reid's ethics for deep cleaning a house", so cleaning the way he likes was easy as pi (as he would say).

While you were trying to get rid of a stain of sauce from a plate you heard a knock, honestly you just walked to the door you didn't even think about the knock not being Spence, so you opened it. There, standing in front of you, was a dark skin man, very tall and ripped, and bald.

You smiled and he looked surprised.

"uhm, I'm sorry, I think I got mixed with the numbers..." he said, checking again the number of the door. "mhm..weird"

"are you looking for Spencer Reid?" you asked, then you saw his face changing from confusion to super confusion.

"I am, yes"

"this is his apartment, he went grocery shopping"

"are you?...staying with him? or are you maybe being tutored or something?" "tutored?" you thought.

"no, I'm his... something" you said, you haven't discussed it yet...so it would be better to just leave it there.

He burst out laughing and held himself in the doorframe, you smiled, thinking it was funny.

"sorry, are you his friend?" you asked

"I'm Morgan, yes, I work with him" he said exchanging hands with you.

"oh!" now it all made sense "yes! of course, he always talks about you, come in please, if you wanna wait for him"

"I do! yes, thank you baby".

You closed the door and waited together for Spence while sipping coffee and chatting, being interrogated too "how'd you too meet?, how long have you been seeing each other?, do you live together?, why hasn't he said anything before?". So many questions you didn't know how far you could answer.

Then, you hear the sound of the keys opening the door.

"inflation is crazy, and old women should learn to calm down, that woman thought I wanted her stupid cat sand and we don't even-" he stood still, observing the image, you, his now 6 month old not girlfriend, and his womanizer attractive coworker, sitting on his couch together while apparently have been drinking the coffee he bought for you.

"hey pretty boy" says Morgan smiling "you didn't tell me you have a girlfriend"

"I uhm...what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask you if you- don't avoid my question!" he says standing up, are they gonna fight?, no, he'll finish Spence.

"it's private" he says leaving the bags and looking at you, you just smile, agreeing, it is private...well not so much because everyone knows but it's not like it's official.

"would you like to stay for dinner?" you ask.

"no!" shouts Spence from the kitchen, you and Morgan look at each other and chuckle.

"no, we had a date night planned" he says coming back to you both.

"alright, alright, I'll leave you too alone then...I came because I wanted to ask you where you buy your clothes, I need to wear something like your shirts to an event" he says.

"I'll send you the info later...just leave" he says pushing him out of the house, you laugh.

"goodbye princess" he says and you wave at him.

Spencer closes the door behind him standing with Morgan at the hallway.

"that's a pretty one you have there" says Morgan smiling

"she is, yeah, she's beautiful" Spencer says blushing

"why didn't you tell me?" Morgan asks

"it's just...I wanted to check this was real and not insignificant before saying anything"

"are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?" he smiles, he thinks Spence is such a girlfriend dude.

"I will...yeah, but I need to confirm she wants me to be her boyfriend first" he says

"I bet she'll say yes...so, date night huh?". Spence nods "what will your dessert be?" he asks laughing, Spence blushes but smiles and pushes him towards the elevator.

He waves goodbye to Morgan from outside the elevator and then comes back to you (as usual).

When he opens the door you're the first thing to his sight, taking out the groceries.

"so inflation is crazy?" you ask getting closer.

"yeah, and old ladies" he says pouting. "this was horrible, I never imagined Morgan would come to our house".

You smile at the sound of "our" house.

"let's start cooking for our super fun date night" you say and kiss him.

After Morgan leaves, you too start to cook. Tonight's menu is pasta! which you both love, now you're teaching him how to play with the seasonings and discover new flavors, you've made that since you got into Spencer's life, teach him how to experience, not only in cooking, in sports, your culture, places, and a lot of things Spencer always brought up when talking to the team unconsciously.

Now he's chopping garlic next to you, while you open the tomato bottle and pour it in the pot.

"you know? garlic is a great cleaner for the liver, in women it can help with vaginal infections, bloating from menstruation, it can even help the blood flow and It can help reduce bad cholesterol and triglycerides, and increase good cholesterol" he says while putting the garlic into the pot, you smile and kiss his cheek.

"good for me then, how about for you?"

"Garlic may help reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease, strengthen the immune system, as it contains antiviral, antibacterial and antioxidant properties, It can help fight skin infections, such as athlete's foot and ringworm, as well as intestinal infections" he says smiling at you.

"sounds good, we should eat lots of garlic then" you say and kiss his cheek. He smiles and blushes and starts to chop some carrots and meat. You open the cabinet and give him another board for the meat, then you open the drawer and give him another knife.

"different knives and boards baby" you say while taking the pasta from another cabinet.

"right" he says, not in a bad mood though, in a way that shows he understands and listens to you.

When the pasta finishes cooking you mix it with the sauce together, then you both set the table and he runs to the living room.

You take a peek but you aren't able to see anything besides the door, then he puts a red candle on the center of the table and lights it on, you smile and he smiles.

"how prepared" you say teasingly.

He smiles and kisses you, so sweet and comfortable, his lips are where yours should be stored always.

You have dinner discussing a book you read together and how pretty both of you look tonight.

"your friend Morgan's cool" you say.

"yeah, he's funny" he says. You wipe a stain of sauce from his lips and he smiles, almost spitting the pasta from his mouth as you laugh, then he laughs along.

"you make me nervous..." he mumbles looking down at his plate.

"why?" you ask giggling.

"you just do" he says smiling, he leans and kisses you.

After dinner comes dessert, which was shared ice cream while laying on the couch watching a movie, you interrogate him with questions like "what would you do if..., or what do you prefer?..." which makes him laugh but think.

That's your night, those are your nights, as usual, filled with love and laughs, while he strokes the skin he's able to reach. Once he told you he was a germophobe, now you can't believe it because how can Spence, the man that's all day with his hands on you, when you cook, when you get dressed, when you're brushing your teeth at the same time, when you're sleeping, even unconsciously, be a germophobe?.

Soft strokes on your bare leg, his index finger stroking your thighs, then your calves that he pulled on his thighs, then kisses, kisses on your legs which he says he loves so much. Suddenly he's above you, soft kisses from the ice cream and the warmness from his skin covered in a shirt.

You can hear the credits of the now finished movie, but that's not something that's gonna be the principal of your attention, you focus on his lips on yours, on your neck, then on the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin while unbuttoning your shirt to after feeling him kissing and licking your chest, you focus on thinking about how he's leaving marks on you that say "Spencer was here". Morgan was right, you were gonna be the dessert afterwards.

[emeraldelixirs]

Bloodsport // prologue

bsf! m. riddle x fem!sallow!reader, stepbrother! t. nott x fem!sallow!reader

Bound by Blood, Betrayed by Fate. When you’re dragged to Malfoy Manor under orders from Voldemort himself, you learn the price of your mother’s mistakes: an Unbreakable Vow, tethering your life to the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange. Forced to navigate a web of dark magic, family debts, and impossible expectations, you must tread carefully in a house brimming with enemies—and a few familiar faces. As tensions rise and the lines between loyalty and survival blur, one question remains: will you find a way to break free, or will you lose yourself to the darkness?

content warnings: 18+ dark themes, aged up characters (by a year), mention of y/n, mentions of anxiety and isolation, death, crossover references with HP legacy, canon HP themes involving death eaters, blood status, purity, house prejudice, and underage coercion. let me know what if there’s anything missing!

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: I’ve been keeping this fic held near and dear to my chest for a while, but have been too nervous to post it and wanting it to be perfect aligning the canon, noncanon, potential AUs, etc. Also I’m just a girl with a full time job and life. 🥲 But as I keep adding on to this story, I think, at least, hope others will enjoy it as much as I’ve been while writing. Feedback, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated 🫶🏻

[playlist: no time to die—Billie eillish ]

<< next part >>

The click of your heels against the cold, tiled floor echoed hauntingly through the desolate halls of Malfoy Manor, a sound that mingled with the steady pressure of Fenrir Greyback’s wand digging into the small of your back. Each step felt like an eternity, your pulse hammering in your ears as Narcissa Malfoy led you down the dimly lit corridor. Her movements were calm and composed, her shoulders drawn back with an elegance you envied in that moment. She, at least, did not have a predator breathing down her neck.

“Keep moving, girl,” Fenrir growled from behind you, his voice low and guttural, sending shivers down your spine. “Mistress doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“That’s enough, Fenrir,” Narcissa snapped, her tone cutting through the air like a blade.

Her icy demeanor, usually so measured, betrayed her frustration. You could sense it in the stiff set of her shoulders and the clipped tone of her voice. Narcissa Malfoy hated what her home had become—a fortress for Death Eaters, a cold and dark parody of the life she once knew. But most of all, she hated that the lives of children, her son and his friends included, were being consumed by the dark tide that had overtaken their world.

When Narcissa came to a halt before the double doors of the dining room, her fingers meticulously adjusted the buttons of her blouse, her sharp gaze fixed on the brass knobs. “Leave us, Greyback,” she commanded, her voice devoid of emotion but brooking no argument.

“Mistress said—”

“Do I need to remind you,” she interrupted, turning on her heel with a venomous glare, “that your mistress is *my* sister? This is still my home, and I will not tolerate being undermined in it. Now. Leave.”

Her warning crackled like electricity in the air, but Fenrir relented with a sneer, retreating down the hall. Narcissa exhaled slowly before turning her attention to you. Her cold, pale fingers reached out to smooth your hair and adjust the sleeves of your dress, though you’d ironed them to perfection just that morning. Her dull gray eyes darted behind you, ensuring the hall was empty, before she spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Listen to me, child,” she said, her hand cupping your cheek with an unexpected gentleness that contradicted the steel in her tone. “You go in there with your head held high. Shoulders back. Do not let her see your fear. She will exploit it.”

The lump in your throat grew unbearable, but you managed a trembling nod. Narcissa’s hand tightened on your chin, forcing your watery gaze to meet her own lifeless one.

“Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you murmured, the words scraping against the knot in your throat.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then, with a curt nod of approval, she turned to knock on the doors.

The dining room was frigid, both in temperature and atmosphere. Bellatrix Lestrange lounged at the head of the table like a queen upon her throne, her wild, matted hair framing her pale, deranged face. Alecto Carrow stood beside her, her towering, stocky figure and lifeless gaze only adding to the oppressive weight that filled the room.

Bellatrix’s lips curled into a sinister grin as her dark eyes landed on you.

“This is the girl?” she drawled, rising with an unsettling excitement.

“She will be in her sixth year, like Draco,” Narcissa said coolly, her tone devoid of the pride she’d once reserved for introductions.

Bellatrix let out a high-pitched laugh, tilting her head back as though the very idea of you amused her. “Sixth year! A mere child!”

“She turned 17 in the spring,” the younger sister noted, clearing her throat. She was aware of what Bellatrix wanted, and the idea of a child doing her sister’s bidding stirred the already restless unease in her body.

Your stomach churned as she circled around you, her wand tracing invisible lines along your jaw and down the column of your neck. Her closeness made your skin crawl, but you stood your ground, your face a mask of carefully constructed neutrality. You couldn’t afford to falter now—not in front of her.

“You look so much like your mother,” Bellatrix said, her voice dripping with mockery. “The Veela blood is strong in your family. A pity it didn’t make her smart.”

Your nails dug into your palms as you resisted the urge to react, hearing Narcissa’s earlier warning echo in your mind. Bellatrix’s gaze bored into yours, relishing in delight at your discomfort.

“She’s one of the top in her class, and heavily involved in the school’s extracurriculars.” Narcissa interjected, her voice brittle, though she stood rigid behind you. “I believe she will do well with the tasks you assign her.”

Bellatrix’s twisted smile widened, and she gestured for Alecto to step forward. The red-haired woman stalked closer, her soulless eyes narrowing as she assessed you like one might a piece of meat.

“Do you know why you’re here, Y/n Sallow?” Alecto asked.

“I’m here to finish the business my mother couldn’t,” you recited in monotone, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within you.

“Good,” Alecto purred, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. “And do you know what happens if you fail?”

“I will be executed,” you replied, the words chilling you even as they left your lips.

Alecto chuckled darkly, seemingly satisfied with your response. Bellatrix clapped her hands together, her giddy laugh echoing off the cold stone walls.

“You will not bear the Dark Mark,” Bellatrix said suddenly, her voice gleeful. “No, the Dark Lord has other plans for you. You will be bound to me instead—by an Unbreakable Vow.”

The words struck you like a physical blow. Your mask faltered as you turned to Narcissa, whose own composure cracked for just a moment. This was not discussed–Dark Mark or Unbreakable Vow–you were supposed to be unscathed by any affiliations Theodore Nott Sr, your step father, told you.

“Bella, this wasn’t—”

“Dark Lord’s orders,” Bellatrix snapped, her wand digging into your chin as she forced your gaze back to her. “Take my arm, child.”

I hate you.

With trembling fingers, you obeyed, grasping her sickly pale forearm as she held it out. Alecto began the incantation, her voice cold and mechanical, each word sealing your fate.

I hate you.

The vow burned as it took hold, a searing pain lancing through your arm and up into your chest.

I hate you.

The three words chanted through your brain as the woman laughed maniacally listening to Alecto talk.

In the moment, resentment tugged through you at your mother for leaving you alone in this world to take the weight of her debts. Alecto’s words becoming muffled to a deafening screech of the thoughts that thrummed in your head. The brand of the vow making itself known, threading through the fibers of your being.

And when it was over, you staggered back, Narcissa catching you before you could fall. Bellatrix’s laughter rang in your ears as she clapped her hands again.

“I will call on you soon to prepare for your new role,” she said, dismissing you with a wave of her hand. “There are other matters to take care of.”

Narcissa dragged you from the room, her grip ironclad. The tears you had been holding back slipped down your cheeks as the weight of what had just transpired settled over you. The woman beside you offering icy coles trying to coax the tears to stop.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name stopped you in your tracks. You turned to see Theo, Draco, Enzo, and Mattheo walking toward the dining room. Theo and Draco acknowledged you with stoic nods, while Enzo’s concerned gaze lingered. Mattheo, however, didn’t even spare you a glance.

Mattheo had always been the one to meet your gaze when things got bad. A silent promise shared between the two of you—‘I’ve got you.’ But now, there was nothing. No glance. No acknowledgment. As if the weight of your fate was too much for even him to bear.

The sight of him ignoring you sent a fresh wave of anguish crashing over you. You tore your gaze away, as Narcissa pull you further down the hall, sparing one more glance back at them. Enzo was still turned towards you as Theo tugged his arm to pull him away. You could feel your chest be torn apart as you were carried further down the halls past death eaters gathering.

There had to be a way out of this. There had to be.

A/n: eeeeee it’s out to the world, chapter one will be out soon to not keep you waiting. If you want to be added to the taglist let me know or have suggestions of making it efficient pls pls pls

[blessedbyahuntress]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Eighteen: Nevermind, Curse the Gods for Eurylochus

Prev/Next

Warnings: Like maybe two suggestive lines? Overprotective Eurylochus, fist fight, swearing

Word Count: 1.2k

“What happened?” Eurylochus’s voice was demanding, yet soft at the same time. Polites crashed into you, wrapping his arms around your torso in a hug that nearly strangled you. You patted his back.

“Polites,” you said. “I have to breathe.” 

“Oh!” He stepped back, arms falling back down to his sides. He turned his head to the side sheepishly, revealing the side of his flushed face. “Sorry.”

You chuckled, feeling slightly better about your… discovery; you hadn’t realized how attached you had gotten to Eurylochus and Polites.

“We saw you fall,” the second in command explained, taking a step closer to peer at your face and neck. “How did you even survive?”

You looked to Odysseus who was standing beside you. 

He shrugged.

“Uh…” you muttered, trying to look anywhere but your two friends’ faces as you raked your brain for a lie. You straightened a bit, hand going to rest on the satchel tied around your waist. “That potion Circe gave me. It can mend broken bones and heal wounds beneath the surface.”

“Remarkable,” Polites breathed. 

“But,” you continued hastily. “Uh, I’m still not feeling well, so I’ll just… be below deck.”

Eurylochus opened his mouth, but Odysseus shot him a warning glare. 

“Alright, Y/N.” Your captain gave you a curt nod, gesturing to the stairs. “We’ll see you later.”

You raised your chin, trying to regain the air of confidence you’d once carried as you crossed the deck. It was eerily silent, and you felt many pairs of eyes on you. Your eyes flickered to a man who had just spilt a few boxes of rations all over the deck and weren’t even bending to pick them up- instead staring at you like a gaping fish. 

You sighed and knelt down, grabbing a crate and stacking a few pieces of fruit inside. After repeating the process for a few minutes, you glanced up, annoyance flashing in your eyes. “Stop gawking and help me,” you grumbled.

Instantly, your crewmate dropped to his knees and started helping you. You felt the lingering glances, though, and your frustration was evident in your every move. 

You finished quickly. You shoved the crate back into the man’s arms before storming off.

You weren’t sure why you were mad, but fury swelled inside of you anyway as you stomped down the stairs. 

You’d been given a private room, having insisted that a woman, warrior or not, still did not deserve to bunk with the rest of the crew. Yours was the second door to the left, right beside Eurylochus. Odysseus slept in the room across from you.

You marched in, slamming the door behind you with enough force, it rattled on its hinges. Your room was a comforting sight, something familiar when it seemed as though the rest of the world had been flipped upside down. On one side, there was a table which you used as a desk, but it was much larger than Odysseus’s. Books were piled on top of each other, others scattered across the room. Paper, some blank and some covered in your thoughts, spilled off of the table and onto the dark floorboards. 

Your bed had been shoved to the side for more space to work and pace, the thin sheets made perfectly despite the rest of the rooms’ disarray. 

You hurried to the other side of the room, grabbing a dagger and a hairbrush from the table on your way to your least favorite part of the room: the mirror. 

Stopping in front of the round, shiny piece of metal, you stared at yourself in disbelief. You were… beautiful. 

“No,” you murmured, eyes widening. Why did this goddess thing have to affect your appearance too? You liked yourself just how you were before!

But no, your hair was perfect, every detail of your face prominent and striking. Your eyes seemed to be more noticeable, perhaps bigger. You could see the flecks of other colors swirling around in your iris’s. 

Holding your breath, you stepped back. You were leaner, and- you sighed in relief- your arms were more muscular and toned. “Well, at least it’s not all bad,” you said to yourself.

You had a death grip on the hairbrush as you brought it up to your locks. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tugged the brush in a way that you knew would mess it up. Your old hair would’ve gotten staticy, or at least knotted, but not today. You opened your eyes, and your hair was the exact same, better, even.

You groaned, flopping down on your bed. 

You didn’t even bother changing; you couldn’t find the strength to get up. You didn’t even unbuckle the sword from your hip, nor the satchel that contained the golden liquid Circe gave you.

Above deck, everyone seemed to snap back to reality.

“Whoa,” Eurylochus heard one man murmur to the sailor beside him. “She- I- Did you see?”

“Did I see?” The man answered. “I will see more. Mark my words: I plan on getting into her room pretty soon.”

Eurylochus felt his gaze grow colder by the second. This man would never touch you the way he was suggesting. The second in command would make sure of that.

He started to march over, only to be stopped by a hand to his shoulder. Eurylochus whirled around, fist more than halfway to Odysseus’s stomach before the captain caught it.

Odysseus raised his eyebrows. “Who’s got you on edge this time?”

“All of them,” Eurylochus answered, gesturing to the whole crew. “Y/N shows up with some superhuman beauty, and now they all want her.”

The captain snorted, looking at his friend. “Don’t like the competition?” 

“I hate it,” Eurylochus grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the stiffness. 

And then the same crewmate's voice reached his ears, more suggestive comments getting shot around. Eurylochus’s mouth twisted into a scowl.

“Belerphius,” Odysseus said in disapproval, pointing to the man. He raised an eyebrow at Eurylochus. “If you want to go beat him up… I might turn a blind eye.” 

When the second in command opened his mouth to protest, Odysseus held a finger to his lips.

Another remark drifted into Eurylochus’s ears, this one dirtier. It set him off. 

The captain turned away, acting as if he was about to go below deck. 

Behind him, Eurylochus threw the first punch, fist landing square in the center of Belerphius’s chest. 

The man stumbled back, looking up at the second in command in rage. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He demanded, backing up slowly as Eurylochus took deliberate steps closer to his crewmate. 

Eurylochus grabbed the collar of Belerphius’s shirt, lifting the smaller man off of the ground. 

“Take it back,” Eurylochus said harshly. 

“Get your hand off of me!” Belerphius spat. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Eurylochus threw him to the deck with enough force to shake the floorboards. He planted a foot on Belerphius’s stomach, leaning down with bared teeth. “Someone who knows her better than you do. And she’s not up for grabs.”

Belerphius opened his mouth to retort, only to be cut off by you.

“Stop! Both of you, just stop!”

Taglist: @barrythestrawberry041 @thereigningking @m-carriaga2021 @jackintheboxs-world @fallenh34art @itzkingbo @sabrina-senpai @smartiepants217 @doodle-with-rhy @trashcannotbealive

[luvst4rc0r3]

“Slave”

Jinx x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Minor cursing, Angst, SELF HARM

WORD COUNT: 1607

NOTE: Reader has a grown up too fast. NOT PROOFREAD!!

PT.2

You loved your life. I was peaceful now. Compared to years before. You had Jinx, Isha, and your son, Micheal. Life is good now. You spent years of working 2 jobs to take care of your son and you “old family”

Since both of your parents were gone you had to step up as a parent even if you weren’t the oldest. You took care of every single one of your siblings. You cleaned the house, made food, and made sure you planned events accordingly. You were a mother. But you didn’t want to be. It was forced upon you.

Sure you would have not taken care of Micheal. Sure you could’ve not taken care of the rest of your siblings.

But if you didn’t then they would be helpless, and you were too kind to let them suffer with the loss of both of your parents.

You were happy for a while. But you had a breaking point. You were treated like a slave. You were expected to do everything. To keep everything together like tape. Even so…tape can break.

You were done but you knew you had to keep going on for your son. He was your life, your pride, the reason you’re still here.

You tried so hard to tape your’s and your son’s life but you just can’t. It was too much for you. All of the cooking, cleaning, scolding you had to do. And not even a thank you from anyone. You never heard a thank you from anyone you took care of. From your friends to your son, I mean how can you blame him when he was a baby, he eventually learned to say thank you, but even to your own flesh and blood. Your siblings never said “thank you” just took you for granted. You got used to it. It hurt but what could you do?

Till you met Jinx. You are working for Silco. A debt collector. You collected debt from people and places. You also were a minor nurse. From all the experience as a “mother” you were the perfect fit.

Jinx had a fever and since it wasn’t a major injury, Silco put you on the job to take care of her. So you did, you never expected a thank you. I mean it was Zaun. People don’t have manners. All they know how to do is fight.

But Jinx. She always appreciated you even if it didn’t seem like she did. Since the moment you took care of her. She may have not said “thank you” but you knew you were appreciated. You were right?

She made it her goal to care for you like you cared for her fever. So every time you went out to settle a debt she was right behind you making sure you were never hurt. Even though you can take care of yourself she just wants to be sure.

That leads you to start dating. Micheal liked her. I mean what kid wouldn’t like an adult who built them cool stuff. Can when Jinx had Isha you would be at her hideout 25/8 now that she and Micheal were friends.

You liked this life. Sure it has some bumps. Like you untalked about trauma and her hallucinations. You still love her.

One night though was particularly bad.

You were playing with Isha and Micheal while was…um…doing whatever at her work station. You were worried for her. She hadn’t gotten any sleep recently, also not eating that much.

When Isha and Micheal were getting settled down for just playing cards with each other you decided to go over to Jinx making sure she was ok.

“Hey hun, I recently saw that you haven’t been getting sleep or eating well. Why not take a break? To take your mind off of everything.”

“No not right now, pretty. I'm working on something.” She doesn’t even glance at you; her full attention is on the device she is making.

“Jinx this is not healthy please. I’m begging you take a break” you plead with her

“Doll not right now” she says firmly.

“Jinx you have to-“ before you can finish you hear her yell

“OH MY GOD! Why can’t you mind your damn business for once in your life! You’re hovering over everything I do. Nagging me what to do and what not to do! You’re just useless. Just leave me alone.”

That made you stop in your tracks. Nagging? Hovering? Useless? Jinx never said these words to you. It reminds you of how your siblings treated you. Like trash.

“Fine…” you started, “Micheal we are leaving,” you said firmly. Isha was immediately against the idea, shaking her head no and so was Michael.

“Just let the kid stay the damn night. You don’t have to dictate the kid’s life along with mine” Jinx stated coldly.

…

“Fine”

With that you turned around and left.

Your arrival to your apartment didn’t take that long. But the weight of everything came crashing down the second you shut the door. You came crashing down, sobbing.

You were sick. Sick of everyone treating you like you were too insignificant to waste their breath on. Sick of everyone taking you for granted.

You were just sobbing on the ground. Too tired to get up, too tired for anything. You eventually get up not to sleep, not go to the bathroom, you just grabbed a knife and alcohol then plopped yourself on the couch. You returned to your old habits. Of self harm and booze. You didn’t count how many times that knife went over your wrist and ankles. Too many to count.

You eventually pass out.

When you wake up you go to get Micheal but when you get there he begs (and Isha too) you to let her stay for multiple days since she has done it before. You were too tired to care that you said yes on 2 conditions. You go to the hideout once a day to make sure they were fine and that you would make the meals that they could eat because you doubt that Jinx gave them good food to eat. They agree and hug you before you turn and leave.

The next 2 weeks were spent in this order:

wake up with a hangover and lose of blood

Go over to Jinx’s hideout to make sure Micheal and Isha were alive, then give them food.

Go to work

Go to the bar to drink.

Go to a convenience store to get more alcohol and food for the kids.

Come home

drink and self harm till you pass.

That was your routine for a whole 2 weeks. Never breaking the schedule. You didn’t care anymore. You were too tired.

Since you were too tired you didn’t realize 2 kids were following you. They watched your routine for a couple days seeing that you were done with life and had no hope. They felt bad.

Jinx on the other hand. It looked like she was doing fine but inside she was slowly dying. The voices got to her but she ignored them while working. She never wanted to admit it, she missed you. Missed how you tell her to take care of herself, she missed your voice, your scent, your touch. Her ego was too big for her to admit it though.

Her routine for those 2 weeks were:

wake up

maybe eat something

make sure the 2 kids were alive

start working

Work until she crashed

Eventually the 2 kids realize that nothing would change unless they did anything.

So they convinced Jinx to apologize to you when you came over.

When you came over the next day they dragged you inside where Jinx was looking at her waiting.

she sighs when she sees you then turns to her work while talking “I’m sorry for the way I treated you a couple weeks ago” it sounded so half assed. Like it was written out for her. Wait.

You noticed a paper right next to her. In the children's handwriting it wrote exactly what she said. You were beyond pissed

Your lover didn’t even want to look at you while she talked from a script. You were too insignificant for her.

Everything you had been taping up for the past 2 weeks broke.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Now that got her attention.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you dumb? The the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled not letting her speak.

“You're not even looking at me while you talk from a script that you didn’t even make!”

“So? It's not like you do anything except nag.” She stated, not really caring.

“So? Did you just say so? I don’t do anything?” You were so stunned.

“I work day and night to take care of not only the kids but your ass too!” You continue yelling, “I work so hard to make sure we are fine financially. Not only that I put food on the table, comfort you when you are having a panic attack, take care of the kids when you don't want to, I make sure they eat, sleep, and breathe. I even make sure you eat, sleep, and breathe too!” “You don’t have to do that” “if I don’t do that then who will?! Certainly not you. You can’t even get up to wash your hair some days. You make me do it. Who would take care of the kids?! Not you. You can’t even provide them a decent meal! You can’t even afford one.”

She was stunned. She hates how she knew you were right. How the only reason she is alive is because you have taken care of her. She never even thanked you.

“So I’m sorry…” you started crying, “if I nag and dictate your life. If you don’t want me in it then fine.”

For once you put yourself first. You took Micheal’s hand and walked out, never turning back. You didn’t know if you were even going to get back with Jinx again.

HEYY!!! Guys I wrote this while I was pissed at my brother so idk if I want to read this. BUTTTT if YALL want a pt2 I can do it (I’ll probably do it either way)

But ya.

I want food

[harringtonstilinski]

I Wish You Would - Gator Tillman

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Gator Tillman x Reader Word Count: 9,975 Warnings: fluff, angst, reader gets slapped, but it's not described and there's no signs of it happening, gator being super soft for his girl, Requested: no | yes; Smut: no | yes; car sex, protected (m+f) A/N: Hi, friends! I know I said I would never write for Gator, but I had an idea in my head and I had to get it out. I hope I did Gator justice! Also, he calls reader Dollface, and Roy(gross) calls her Little Darlin'. I've never written anything like this before, so please check the triggers above. Some of these scenes were hard for me to write. BUT, if you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

HIGH SCHOOL, SENIORS, FALL 2009

“Surprise, shitbird.”

You couldn’t help but look up from your book to roll your eyes at the boy in front of you. Shaking your head, you went back to look at the words on the pages before your head popped up again at hearing a kid say, “Stop it, Tillman.”

Sighing, you closed your book and stood, approaching the two males. Tapping the instigator on the shoulder, you said, “Hey. Tillman.”

He turned around to face you. “What?”

“Follow me.” You waited for him to nod his head before you wrapped your arm around his, making sure he was going to follow you. Once you two were truly alone, you turned to him, fire in your eyes. “What the heck, Gator?”

“What do you mean? That’s the boy that wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Yeah. In the first grade! We’re freaking Seniors now, Gator! He’s left me alone since I told on him.”

He just looked at you confused, so you sighed and elaborated, “My mom ended up talking to his mom, who’s married to one of your dad’s deputies. Apparently, his dad got onto him and said that if  he didn’t stop messing with me that he would put him in handcuffs and bring him to my house to let my dad beat the shit out of him while his stood and watched.”

Still confused, Gator said, “But your dad works for mine, too.”

“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “That’s not the point, G. The point is that he’s left me alone for years, so there’s no need to beat the kid up over it.”

Sighing and looking down, Gator nodded. “I’m sorry.” Looking back up at you, Gator looked into your eyes for a second before pulling you into a hug, which you gladly returned. Pulling back, he rested his hands on either side of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing the underside of your jaw. “You coming to the game tonight?”

“I haven’t missed one yet,” you replied. “I’m ain’t gonna start now.” Smiling at him softly, you leaned into his touch, not wanting the moment to end.

You and Gator had been best friends prior to preschool, your dads working together and your moms best friends since the both of you were about two years old. Throughout the years of playdates and outings your moms had planned, you ended up developing a crush on Gator, and he you, but you two obviously never said anything to each other.

“Good,” he said. “‘Cause I’d kick your ass if  you did.”

Laughing, you shook your head, wrapping your arms around his middle for one more hug as the bell for the last class of the day rang. He reciprocated the hug, wrapping his own arms around your neck, gently, before kissing the top of your head.

“Hey, Tillman!” a voice rang out, causing a sigh to sound from you as the person ruined a moment between you and your best friend… one you might not get again after the game.

~~~

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Gator seethed, hobbling around his room on crutches as you laid on his bed on your stomach.

It was a couple of weeks after that game. Gator had gotten tackled pretty badly by another player, a cornerback, and broke parts of his leg. Needless to say, Gator was pissed and still is.

“I’m tellin’ ya, dollface. He’s got it coming.”

“G–”

“He did that shit on purpose,” he said, stopping to face you. “He’s got another thing coming, and–”

“You've got another thing comin',” you sang, giggling at the unamused look on Gator’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“He’s not gonna know what hit him. Literally.”

Rising from his bed, you stood in front of him, looking at him like he’s the only boy left in the world. Whispering, you said, “You can’t get in trouble with Roy again because of you acting on impulse. I know- stop -” Gator sighed heavily, like  he didn’t want to hear your words. “I know the guy hurt you and basically shut down your career, but that doesn’t mean that-” He then tried to look away from you, but you put your hand on his chin to guide his eyes back to your own. “Look at me - that doesn’t mean you go and retaliate.”

Gator sighed and brought his forehead down to meet yours. “I know, but I’m so pissed off that I don’t know what else to do other than hurt the one who hurt me.”

“I know, G.  I know.”

You both looked at each other, something in the air shifting as you both started leaning towards each other. Just as your lips were about to touch, a knock sounded on his bedroom door. “Gator! Take Little Darlin’ home. It’s getting late.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the nickname that Roy gave you as a child. “I hate it when he calls me that,” you whispered. “It’s creepy.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a creepy motherfucker anyway,” Gator whispered back. Bringing a hand up, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Come on, dollface. Let me take you home.”

Once the two of you exited his room and got to his truck, you smiled a little as you got comfortable in the passenger seat. “Thank goodness he broke your left leg,” you said, a smile on your face as Gator put his crutches in the backseat. “Or else the Creep would have to take me home.”

Gator chuckled as he slid into the driver’s seat. After starting the truck, he started the journey to your home, the radio playing quietly as background noise. You loved riding with Gator; just the two of you.

When Gator got his driver’s license, the two of you would drive down all the back roads with the windows down, blaring whatever song or band the two of you were into at the time. It was your favorite thing to do before Gator’s football career got a little bit more serious last year.

Now, as you’re riding with the windows down and listening to the music that’s quietly playing, you closed your eyes, reminiscing.

“What’cha thinkin’ about over there?” Gator asked.

With a smile on your face, all you could do was happily sigh before replying. “Just thinkin’ about how we used to do this all the time before you became super popular last year.”

“Hey. What have I told you about all that? I’m still the same Gator–

“Just a little bit tougher and meaner.” You air quoted the word tougher because to you, Gator was nothing more than a big teddy bear with big emotions. To everyone else, he was the hardass, popular quarterback that had dreams of making it big.

“Only to everyone else. Not to you.” He snuck a glance at you before putting his eyes back on the road, his crush growing tenfold. Sighing, he pulled into your driveway, your dad standing outside on the porch, his cellphone up to his ear.

Since you had your window down, you heard him say, “Yup. They just pulled up. Yup. Will do, Roy,” before he hung up and stood near the steps, his arms resting on the railing as he leaned over just a touch. “Let’s go, kid!”

Sighing, you looked over at Gator, who had opened his door to get out of the truck. “Gator, stop. You don’t need to get out. Not with your leg. Stay. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. He and your father didn’t get along that well. Your father expected more out of him, just like Roy did, and when Gator didn’t deliver to Roy’s standards at home, Roy would tell your father, and well… you get the picture.

“Yes, G. I’m sure.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek which caused him to close his eyes and let out a deep breath, your lips lingering for a moment before softly whispering, “Good night, Gator.”

Opening his eyes, he turned his head to look at you, gently resting his forehead on yours. “Good night, dollface. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, you got out of the truck and walked up the five steps to your front porch, your dad’s voice stopping you as he said, “You can do better than that little lizard boy.”

All you could do was close your eyes, trying not to let the tears you could feel building up fall over your lower lash line. “And mom could do better than you.” You walked into the house without a care in the world, knowing what was to come at that comment.

Later that night, you laid in your bed, silent tears streaming down your cheeks, feeling the remnants of your fathers hand.

The next day at school, you avoided Gator, not wanting to talk about what happened after you walked into your house the night before. You knew he was still sitting in your driveway, waiting for you to enter the house before leaving, and seeing the small interaction with you and your dad. You had also heard that he took a tire iron to the kid that broke his leg, after he promised you he wouldn’t.

You successfully avoided Gator the remainder of the week, knowing that you just sealed your fate of your friendship possibly being over.

~~~

FALL 2019, TEN YEARS LATER

A lot happened in the last ten years since you started avoiding Gator, but you kept up with him through rumors and stories at school, as well as news articles and such through college and most of your adult life.

Now, at the age of 27, you find yourself back on the Tillman Ranch with your father and mother in tow. “Why do I have to do this?” you asked, sitting in the backseat of your dad’s truck. 

“Because we haven’t seen them in a long time,” your mother said. “You haven’t even asked about Gator since your senior year of high school.” Turning to face you, she asked, “By the way, what happened there? You two were so close. I just don’t–”

“Mother, please drop it. It’s not important.” Sighing, you straightened your back before smoothing down your hair. “Let’s get this over with.”

Exiting the truck, your lip curled up slightly in disgust. Roy was standing on the porch, a beer in hand, smiling at your family of three. “John! It’s about time y’all got here!”

Wrapping an arm around you, your father answered, “Had to convenience this one here to get dressed and in the truck.”

You stiffened, remembering the night that everything changed for you and your friendship with Gator. Giving a tightlipped smile, you looked at Roy, and sarcastically said, “Just so happy to be here.”

“Jess and Maude will be happy to know that you’re here,” Karen said, coming to stand by her husband.

Jessica and Maude Tillman, Gator’s half twin-sisters, were born the year after you stopped talking with Gator. You babysat them while going to the local college in the next town over for a little bit of extra money.

Your smile softened a little at hearing the twin’s names. Before you could go and see them, however, Roy directed you all the back of the house, where a long table was set up. “Seems like y’all still do big Sunday dinners.”

“Well, little darlin’, when you’re a Child of God, you gather the family around and have a nice dinner,” Roy said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You quickly moved away and turned to go into the house to retrieve a glass of the stronger liquor you knew Roy had, but seeing a certain person had you stopping dead in your tracks. You knew what he’d done with his life since you “broke up” with him all those years ago. 

He had his hair slicked back with it faded on the sides and the back with two slits on the left side of his head. A black button down donned his chest, a watch on his left wrist and a pair of jeans on his legs, with a pair of boots.

“Damn,” you whispered.

“Hey, dollface,” Gator said softly. “It’s, uhh… it’s good to see you.”

You just stood there, basically gawking at him as he walked down the steps. Snapping out of whatever trance you were in, you said, “Uh, y-yeah.” After the two of you kissed each other's cheeks in greeting, you stood there for a moment, taking in his scent. “Y-you, too, G.”

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he said, “Haven’t heard that single letter in ten years.”

Without missing a beat, you said, “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Gently cupping your jaw, Gator shook his head, brows furrowed. “Don’t apologize for that. I don’t know your reasoning for it, but just know… that I forgive you.”

Leaning into his touch, you smiled softly, replying with that same softness in your voice. “Thanks, G.”

“Anytime, dollface.”

“Gator. Little Darlin’--”

You shivered at the use of those words. “I always hated when he called me that. Still do.”

“Come take your seats so we can say grace and eat.”

~~~

After what seemed like a calm dinner the night before, you and Gator exchanged numbers; you getting a new phone after high school to separate yourself from the town of Lehigh, and Gator because of his multiple run-ins with his coworkers.

You learned that night that Roy made Gator deputy, what with Gator being a nepo baby and all. When your dad offered you a front desk job at the station, you declined and moved out of state to attend college.

Now, as you look out of the passenger side window of your dads truck with your head resting on the window, you find yourself going right back to the Tillman Ranch. 

“The girls are at school, so you won’t be able to see them today,” your father said.

“That’s fine,” you softly replied. Picking your head up, you wondered, “I wonder if they still have Aurora.”

Aurora was a beautiful American Quarter Horse that was gifted to you when you were about 7 years old from Roy. Back before you know big of a big creep he was.

You left her behind when you left Lehigh, and you never stopped thinking about her.

“I wonder if she’d remember me,” you whispered, more to yourself.

“Of course she will,” your dad said. “Horses have great memory. Just go–”

“Slow.  I know.”

Getting out of the truck after your father parked, you slowly made your way to the barn, seeing a man leaning on the gate, a cigarette in hand. Deciding to ignore him, you leaned against the gate, as well, immediately spotting your beloved horse.

She was being led by Roy’s employee, Bowman, into the barn. “Hey, little miss.”

“Hey, Bowman,” you replied, never taking your eyes off your horse. “How she been?”

“She’s been good.” He stopped in front of you with Aurora. “Been keeping her healthy, been getting her exercise.”

“Still giving her apples and carrots?” you asked, reaching your hand out. Aurora sniffed your hand before nuzzling her nose on your palm. A smile graced your face.

“She remembers you,” Bowman said, a small smile on his own face.

“I was afraid she wouldn’t.” You looked up at him, seeing him looking in the direction behind you.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He leaned forward a little to whisper in your ear, “If you wanna ride, she’s all set for ya. Just hop the gate like old times.” He then turned around and walked off, not giving you a chance to reply.

You ignored the footsteps behind you, hearing Roy’s voice not 10 seconds later. “What happened?” he asked.

“You send a man to do a job without all the information, how can the job be done?” the man next to you said. 

Deciding to be nosy, you turned your head over your shoulder, watching as Gator, dressed in a police uniform and black ballcap, stepped forward, asking, “Yeah, what are you?” He hit the man's back before asking, “The Riddler?”

You tucked your lips between your teeth to keep from giggling. The two of you loved the Batman movie growing up; the one with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson.

“You say the woman is a woman, a…” the man said, slightly turning his head your way, looking you in the eyes. “How do you…?”

Since you don’t know what he’s talking about, you shake your head ever so slightly, letting him know you don’t have a clue.

“Housewife.” Turning to face Roy and Gator, he continues, “Never do you mean she is, for real, a tiger.”

“You saying you couldn’t handle some girl? 100 pounds soaking wet? Huh?” Gator asked, hitting the man in the arm.

“G,” you whispered, not realizing you even spoke at all until he looked at you.

The man took a drag from his cigarette as Gator continued, “It was on the wire this morning. This half-wit shot up a fillin’ station outside Beulah. Murdered the clerk. Killed a state trooper. Put a hole in the leg of another.” He chuckled. “And this retard’s partner with a cracked skull and his face half burned off in the morgue.”

All you could do was stand there and look at Gator, wondering what happened to him for him to end up just like his father.

“You say housewife,” the man replied. “So, I bring one guy. You say tiger… that’s a different guy. Cost you three times.”

“Did they take her?” Roy asked. “The police.”

Before you could think about your words and stop yourself, you asked, “Wait. I thought you were the police. Who the hell are you looking for that’s not right here in Lehigh?”

“Dollface,” Gator whispered, causing your eyes to shift from his father’s to his own hazel ones. He looked at you with a look that said he’d either tell you later or to just drop it.

Answering Roy, the man said, “Fled on foot. Possibly home. Possibly to the wind.”

Gator thought it was funny, the man’s riddles, but Roy wanted to stay on topic. “Could you find her?” 

“She could be found.”

“Who’s she?” you asked, more to yourself than anything.

“Where people go, the thoughts they have, these are known to me. Instincts. Who flees, who fights. It’s a question of price. The job it was, not the job you said.”

Looking at the left side of this man’s head, you just now noticed a gash, blood covering the area with some on his temple, going down halfway to his cheek. 

“Pain and suffering.  A man, missing an appendage, self-sewing his own skin. Scarred for life, he’s told. And then this new ask. Hunting a tiger. And it forces the man to ask: why you want the tiger?”

After a few second pause, Roy answered, “She’s my wife.”

“Don’t tell him shit,” Gator quietly said. Walking up to his father, he whispered, “I already said I can handle this. We know where she lives now. Her alias.”

Looking back at your horse, you sighed, running a hand down the bridge of her nose before walking up to the two Tillman men. “If someone could kindly tell me what the hell is going on, I’d much appreciate it.”

Putting a hand on Gator’s chest, Roy pushed him back a few steps, now seeing what the hell happened with Gator. Looking down at you, Roy said, “She made vows to me. A pledge. In sickness and in health.” He looked back at the man, continuing his words. “Consider it a debt unpaid, leaving me in limbo. Husband yes or husband no. See, she hid from me nine, ten years. Interest accrued. Until the debt could no longer be paid with money. Then, one day, there she is, fingerprints in the system. Now the limbo can end, the debt can be collected. Tell me something, friend. If a man is pure, his actions are only ever good. You believe that?”

You looked over at Gator, seeing the bad standing in front of you, but knowing there’s nothing but pure good sitting deep inside his bones.

“I’m a nihilist,” the man replied.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you and Gator asked at the same time.

“I believe in nothing.”

“You believe in money,” Roy said. “Yeah?” At not receiving an answer from this man, Roy said, “Well, thanks for your help. Go on with Gator. He’ll get you paid.” Looking down at you, he said, “Why don’t you go with him, little darlin’? Catch up after all these years.”

“Dad,” Gator said.

“Original plus pain and suffering,” the man said.

Holding your hand out to him, you asked, “What the fuck is his name?”

  Ignoring you, Roy said, “Yeah, of course.” Looking at Gator, he said, “Take it out of the rainy day fund. Fixing place.”

Confused, you looked at Gator, wondering what the fixing place was.

Looking back and forth between his dad and the man, Gator said, “Fixing place. Right.” Landing his eyes on the stranger you still don’t know the name of, he said, “Come on, numbnuts.” He turned his head, looking at you. “Come with me, dollface.”

You walked around Roy, following Gator. “What the fuck, G?” you whisper-shouted. “What the hell happened when I left? What the fuck is the fixing place?”

Grabbing your hand, he laced your fingers together, sighing. “A lot. I’ll tell you everything later.”

Somehow along the way, the man ended up in front of you and Gator. He had released your hand to grab a container from his pocket; that container holding chewing tobacco, also known as dip.

“You dip now?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Shrugging, Gator replied, “It’s better than smoking.”

“They’re both equally bad.”

Gator put the dip container back in his pocket as the man bent over and picked up a cigarette off the ground.

“I’m not saying, but you understand,” Gator said, looking at the man. “I had to rough you up a little back there. You coming up snake eyes and all.”

As the three of you walked, you looked off to the side, seeing a couple men with shotguns through the bushes.

“With her being such a tiny bird, which…” Gator snickered. “Ya’know… they used to be dinosaurs.” 

“Oh, my god,” you whispered. You looked at Gator, noticing that he put his hand out toward you, he silently asked you to stop while he and the man took a few more steps forward. 

The man turned to face Gator with the cigarette in his mouth, the latter spitting out some of the disgusting dip.

“Hundreds okay?” Putting his hand on the man’s arm, Gator forced the man to turn around before turning to face you to mouth cover your ears.

You did as he asked, watching as he took the gun you didn’t notice he had from the holster, holding it out toward the man. Looking through the bushes again, you now saw that the two men were standing in front of the man, their guns at the ready.

“Surprise, shitbird,” Gator said.

The man turned and flicked his cigarette at Gator, who dodged it while pulling the trigger on the firearm, the sound causing you to jump. You watched as the man grabbed Gator’s right arm, hearing his bones crunch before the guy put his hand on Gator’s junk, squeezing, knowing the pain it’s causing your best friend.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you heard Gator’s muffled screams. You continued watching as the guy retrieved a gun you definitely didn’t know he had while pushing Gator back, pointing it over your best friend’s left shoulder and firing off three rounds, Gator’s shouts ringing out in your ears over the shots.

Everything else seemed to happen in a blur. One moment you’re watching the events unfold. Next, you’re kneeling beside Gator, hand in between his shoulder blades as he vomits from all the pain he’s experienced in the last 5 minutes.

“Little Darlin’,” Roy said.

You chose to ignore him, instead focusing on your best friend. “It’s okay, G. You’re gonna be fine.”

~~~

After you took Gator to the hospital to get cast on his broken arm and then back to his house, you drove back to your parents house, trying to get a little of sleep, but as you watched the sun rise with a cup of coffee in hand, you realized that you didn’t get not a lick of sleep.

You went about your day helping your mom around the house before you decided to go see Aurora again, riding her for about an hour before you spotted Gator watching you, a small smile on his face.

When you got off of her, you stroked her neck, letting her know what a good girl she was before Bowman took her back to the stable for some treats and rest. Without a word, you followed Gator towards a man-made hot tub, seeing that Roy was sitting in it.

Since the two of you were a good ways away from him, you looked at Gator, noticing that he was wobbling. “You walkin’ like that ‘cause of that guy grabbing your balls?”

“Be lucky you don’t have these,” he replied. “Hurts like hell.”

You’ve also noticed that since being back in Lehigh, your filter was off because you said, “I know a way to make them feel better.”

Gator chuckled, and you… well, you were mortified. “Glad to see your sense of humor is still there.”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Me, too.”

Silence followed as the two of you stepped closer to the wooden tub. Gator stepped up on it, groaning. You tried to hide your chuckle behind your hand as you walked beside him on the ground, not wanting to be near Roy.

“You gonna make it there, sunshine?” Roy asked.

Since you had stopped to the side of Gator, you watched as he rubbed near his dick and balls, sighing. “Fucker got the drop on me.”

Looking at Roy, you asked with complete and utter disgust, “When the fuck did you get nipple piercings?”

Ignoring you, he asked Gator, “Tell me her name again?”

“Uh, goes by Dorothy Lyon now,” he replied. “Lives in a suburb outside the Twin Cities.”

“Married, you said?”

“Going on ten years. Husband owns a car dealership, some kind of… uh, Korean model.”

“Koreans make cars?”

“I guess.”

“Oh, dear heavens,” you whispered, looking out at the land to your right. “You two need to get out of this stupid town more.”

“Anyway, she’s got a daughter. Names Scotty. She’s about nine.”

Roy took in a breath, one that sounded angry before a man came over the radio, saying, “Roy, we got FBI here.”

Grabbing the radio with a fat cigar in his mouth, Roy said into it, “Let’s send ‘em up.”

“Wait. The fucking FBI?! What kind of shit have you two gotten into?” you asked. Noticing Gator has his hand out a little towards you, you stopped talking to see what was about to take place.

“What do you want me to…?” Gator asked.

“Ahhh, don’t worry about it,” Roy answered, just as two FBI agents walked up the wooden tubs deck. 

Gator walked backwards, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you up on the deck with him, his arm going around your stomach as he pressed your back to his front. “Just go with it, okay?” he asked. His voice was quiet enough to where only you could hear as you softly nodded your head.

“Hard day at the office?” the male agent asked.

“Like the sign says, he’s a hard man for hard times,” Roy answered. “And by he, I mean me.”

Watching as the agent handed a card to Roy, you took in a breath,  feeling Gator’s fingertips lightly rub against your stomach as his father read the card aloud. “Agent ‘Ja-Queen’.” Roy handed the card to Gator, your eyes catching it.

“It’s Joaquin,” the agent said. Gesturing to his partner, he added, “This is Agent Meyer. We’re new in the Fargo office. We thought we’d come by, see why you weren’t enforcing any of our laws.”

“What laws?”

“Oh, you know,” Joaquin replied. “Gun laws, drug laws. Any of the half-dozen other American laws passed and ratified by the US Government that you don’t seem to recognize.”

“Well, Agent Ja-Queen, I think you’ll find that there is no one on God’s green earth who is a greater enforcer of the laws of this land than Roy Tillman.”

You inwardly groaned, tilting your head back to rest on Gator’s shoulder, feeling his lips meet your temple. That kiss that was doing things to the pit of your stomach.

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ here?” Meyer asked.

“But…” Roy said. You could hear the smile in his words. “...what you need to know is that I am the law of the land. Elected by the residents of his county to interpret and enforce the Constitution given to us by Almighty God.

All Agent Joaquin did was hum his answer, which prompted Gator to add, “Freedom.”

Being a smartass, you raised your hand in the air, saying, “Amen and amen. Thank you, God!”

“You know, I hear that word a lot around here,” Agent Meyer said.

“You’re just so nonchalant,” you said, picking your head up. “I wish I could be that nonchalant.”

“I’m curious,” she said, not acknowledging what you just said. “What you think that word means.”

“Agent, if you don’t know what freedom is,” Roy said. “I don’t think me saying the words out loud is gonna teach you.” You watched him from the corner of your eye turn his head towards you and Gator. “Why don’t you two go and do your chores?”

Tapping your side, you and Gator stepped forward, seeing the white card being flung from Gator by your head. Grabbing your hand again, he said, “Let’s go, dollface. Come help me with my chores.”

~~~

“Come help me with my chores, he said. What he failed to fucking mention is us actually getting into his fucking cop car to drive to the fucking hospital.”

“Dollface–,”

“Don’t you fucking dollface me, Gator Tillman,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not the one keeping fucking secrets here. You told me you’d tell me what was going on and you fucking haven’t.”

Taking a deep breath, he twisted in the passenger seat of the truck another officer was driving, turning to face you. “You wanna know what’s going on? I’ll tell ya. When you left, I was torn apart. I wanted to follow you, but Roy wouldn’t let me; told me I had to stay here and help run the Ranch. You know how tough it was for me growing up. My mom dying when I was young, Dot coming in and then leaving, and now Karen and the twins. I got into some messed up shit over the years. All I wanted was to know that you were safe. All I wanted was–”

He stopped himself as you felt tears build on your waterline. “All you wanted was love and validation from your father,” you whispered. “That’s all I ever wanted from you, and all I ever wanted from mine as well. G, we both had shitty lives, but that doesn’t mean we follow in our father’s footsteps.”

“At least you got out.”

“But I also came back and stayed,” you whispered. “I was supposed to leave after dinner last night, but all I could think about was my best friend and how much he might need me to stick around.”

“I’m glad you did,” Gator whispered back.

It was silent for a moment before you heard him take a breath. “We were looking for Dot, and we found her. Dad’s on this hellbent… whatever you wanna call it… to get her back at the house.”

“Why’d she leave?”

“The abuse, dollface. She knew if she stayed–”

“She’d die by the hands of Roy.” You sighed, deeply, not knowing what else to say. “What about you? Did you go through the ranks at the station or did your dad just appoint you Deputy ‘cause of you being his nepo baby?”

That made Gator chuckle. “Uhm, I guess a little of both?”

“Well,” you said, knowing your filter is forever gone. “The uniform and baseball cap is a good fucking look on you.”

“Let’s go, babe,” he said. “We gotta ask a patient a few questions.”

~~~

As the two of you walked down the hallway in the hospital, you could hear a male’s voice and female’s voice grow louder as you drew closer. With your hand in Gator’s, you suddenly felt nervous.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Gator said, his voice soft. Stopping his steps, he turned to look at you, and you him. “I’m gonna have to be hardass, so… just…”

Sighing, you said, “Let you do your job.”

Nodding, Gator released a breath. He kissed your forehead before turning back to take a step forward, but stopped himself and looked back at you with his head tilted a little. “I need that filter back on, though. Can’t have you fucking up my job.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. “Okay,” you whispered, letting him lead you into the hospital where a man sits up in the hospital bed, a woman standing at the end in a police uniform.

“What do you know?” Gator said, stopping for a second before looking down at you. “It’s a party.”

You quietly giggled before he walked the two of you to the end of the bed right before the female officer started speaking.

“Indira Olmstead, Scandia Police Department,” she introduced, shaking Gator’s hand.

“Ah,” he said. Looking back at you, he said, “Look, baby. A city girl.”

“Well, we prefer women these days.”

“He’s old school,” you said, wrapping your hand around his upper arm to look over at her. With a smile on your face, you added, “There’s no getting him out of that mindset.”

“Well, the rest is accurate.”

“How can we help you, stranger?” the man asked.

You couldn’t help but feel extremely bad for him, seeing him laying in that bed. A thought ran through your mind; is the persona Gator brought up the day before? The one with the hole in his leg?

“Sheriff’s Deputy,” Gator said. “Stark County.”

Because you felt bad for this man, you quietly said, “He just needs to ask you a few questions.”

“Sounds like you had a mix-up in my neck of the woods last night, which–”

“They run a pretty tight ship, so…” you interrupted. Feeling Gator squeeze your hand, you squeezed back while rubbing your hand up and down his arm, trying to let him know that it’s okay. “He takes it personal when bad people show up.”

“This job will grind you down if you take it too personal,” the man said.

“What can I say?” Gator said. “I like being on the right side of a gunfight. Especially for my girl here.” You two looked at each other before he took a breath and looked at Officer Olmstead. “Heard you say you had a picture of the perps?”

“Uh, victim,” she said. “Female.”

“Right. Saw something about, uhh, a woman got taken. Or escaped or something?”

You inwardly groaned, realizing that he was bad at playing dumb.

“We think these fellas grabbed her up in Minnesota,” Indira stated. “Taking her to points west when the trooper pulled them over.”

So, now some more pieces were falling into place. Dorothy, who you now know is Dot, was taken by who you think is the man that was in the barn speaking in riddles. He and his partner, whoever that is, stopped a gas station where all hell broke loose. This man in the bed in front of you was caught in the crossfire and now has a hole in his leg, most likely from being shot.

“She killed one, the recidivist Donald Ireland, I think they said,” the man said. “The other one got away.”

“Sounds like a real Comanche, this female you’re hunting,” Gator inquired.

“Like I said, I got a photo,” Indira said. Gator reached over and took her phone from her hand. “Excuse me.”

“G,” you whispered to only where he could hear. You watched him as he scrolled through her photos.

“So, what, she some kind of criminal, also?” he asked.

“What are you doing?” you asked, still in that same super quiet tone.

He clicked on a photo, their voices dying out as you looked at a photo of Dot, holding a mugshot sign at a police station. You watched as he deleted the photo, Indira not even looking in your direction.

“Oops,” Gator said, bringing you out of your own moment. “What’d I do? Babe, what’d I do?”

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. I zoned out.” Which wasn’t a total lie.

“What’d’ya…” she asked, taking her phone back.

“I must’a, I don’t know,  I pressed something,” Gator responded.

“Darn it,” she quietly exclaimed. “You deleted the victim, her photo.”

“Yeah, this man here and technology never saw eye to eye,” you said. “I used to sit beside him in computer class, teaching him how to open up a writing document.” You chuckled. You did have to do that once, so, again, it wasn’t a total lie.

“Especially now,” he added. Bringing up his hand, he said, “This wrist-breaker,” while shaking his hand, a small groan passing his lips.

Dumbass.

“No, no, it’s my fault,” Officer Olmstead said. “I’m not sure what I was thinking bringing the one.”

“Mistakes happen,” you said. “Happens to all of us.”

“Well,” the man said. “I hope you find her. “If it was her, saved my life, I think.”

“Oh, no, she’s home,” Indira said. “A little worse for wear but intact.”

Looking at Gator, you saw him quickly move his eyes towards her, his hand squeezing yours like he got the answer he wanted. 

“Strangest thing, though,” she continued. “Despite all evidence, she’s claimin’ it never happened.”

“Never… what now?” the male asked.

“Says nobody broke in, says she wasn’t taken. Just went for a wander for ten hours and then came home and cooked breakfast.”

“Cry for attention, sounds like,” Gator muttered. “Drama queen trying to make her husband sick.”

“Who said she has a husband?”

Again, you squeezed his hand, a little harder than before.

Chuckling, you said, “He’s just assuming, ya’know.”

“Description said 30s in the police report, so…”

“Well, all I know is, the woman I met broke loose like somebody who knows how small the cage can get,” the man said. “Wish you had that picture. Like to meet that woman again, thank her.”

“For what?” you asked.

“Far as I can tell she’s the one got you shot in the first place,” Gator said.

“Oh, the job got  me shot,” he said. “She was just… trying to get free. But you know what they say; protect and serve.”

Gator chuckled before he said, “Yeah, I’m down with protect, but…” He looked down for a moment before looking back and saying, “I ain’t in the service industry. I’m in the kicking ass and taking names business.”

He pulled out a vape that you didn’t know he had, inhaling the chemicals and blowing the smoke out, the scent of the vape filling your nostrils. 

“You two have a nice day,” he added, tipping his ball cap at Officer Olmstead before looking at you and saying, “Come on, dollface.” 

You followed him willingly back down the hallway. Deciding not to question where he was leading you, you found yourself in the alleyway, another one of Roy’s officers standing against the wall. Gator helped up into the backseat of the truck before getting into the passenger side. He looked at the officer, a smirk on his face as he said, “Consider that bitch flummoxed,” as the truck started moving in reverse.

Oh, Gator, you thought to yourself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

~~~

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep until the sounds of This is Halloween from The Nightmare Before Christmas met your ears, not to mention it being dark outside. You moaned, the ache in your neck causing you some uncomfort.

“G,” you groaned. “I’m hella thirsty, and I want a snack.”

“Okay, dollface. Hey,” he said. “Pull in here. She’s wanting something inside, and I gotta take a piss.”

You heard the inhale of breath before smelling that flavor of the vape. Something has shifted between you and Gator since those agents showed up. He’s held your hand, called you baby or babe, your arm wrapped around his as you two stand in silence. It’s something you can’t quite pin, but you know something has definitely shifted.

The officer driving the truck pulled up to the door as Gator turned in his seat to face you. “Stay here, okay? Don’t move.”

Not wanting to take that chance, you nod your head and lean back against the seat, observing Gator as he asked the officer if he wanted a pop, to which he said no and got out. Your eyes shifted out of the window,  watching as Gator gets out and walks to the door just as a guy walks backwards out of the store, hands full of items he’d just bought.

You tapped on the window, yelling out “G!” before he could do something irrational, watching as he disappeared into the store. Not five minutes later, you jumped at hearing a thud on the window on the driver’s side of the truck, seeing a body before hearing gurgling noises.

“Oh, my god,” you whispered. “Gator, please hurry.” Tears sprung to your eyes as you watched the officer’s body slide to the left of the truck right before you heard Gator’s voice say, “I got us some jerky, dollface,” before ripping the top off with his teeth. “Well, me. It’s the spicy kind.”

Getting into the car, he added, “Better keep these windows down. You know what spicy foods do to me.” You could hear munching coming from the front seat, silent tears falling down your face.

“Oh, here,” he said, reaching back to hand you your $3 water and bag of chips. You tentatively took it from his hand, setting it down in the seat beside you as you heard Gator say, “Fuck, that’s hot,” and the tale tell signs of a soda bottle opening.

As he took a swig from the bottle, you saw him from the corner of your eye looking back at you. After swallowing the liquid, he asked, “Dollface, you okay?” before turning back to the front, asking himself, “Where is this guy?”

“G-Gator,” you said, voice shaky and quiet.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Outside.”

“Wh–” 

You guessed he looked out the window at the side mirror because he quickly ducked down in the seat, saying, “Baby, get down.” You did as he said, not wanting to get yourself killed like that officer that was driving the two of you.

Gator kept repeating, “Oh, my god,” as he got out of the truck, but not before saying, “Stay in the truck.”

“Gator,” you cried, not listening for even a second.

The two of you walked to the back of the truck, your hands covering your mouth as you squealed, seeing the guy laying dead on the ground, a cardboard sign stabbed into his chest that read YOU OWE ME.

Gator, with his gun drawn, looked around, breathing heavily before saying, “Oh, shit,” before looking down at the guy and repeating his words.

“Gator, call your dad,” you said. When he didn’t make a move, you shouted, “Gator, call your dad!”

Hearing the desperation in your voice, he holstered his gun to grab his phone, calling his father and asking him to get your location as quickly as he could.

Gator ushered you into the truck before dragging the man into the bed. When he got into the driver’s side, he drove off to a dark spot of the lot, not wanting to be seen by any passersby.

Roy pulled up about 15 minutes later, the two of you getting out of the truck.

“Called you directly,” Gator said, walking toward the back of the truck. “Didn’t want this going out on the wire.”

“Little Darlin’,” Roy said in surprise. “Why are you here? Why is she here?” The last question was directed at his son.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you gestured toward the bed of the truck. “G didn’t know what to do with him, so he stuck him back there.”

Roy looked at the dead man before exhaling. “Then where were you?” Looking at you, he asked the same question.

“I was draining the snake,” Gator replied. “Two minutes in and out.”

“I-I was in the backseat. I saw it happen. Just… too shocked to call anyone.”

“Did you get a look at the tape?” Roy asked, looking dead at Gator.

Gator sighed before saying, “State cops took the whole system last night on account of the other thing.” Scoffing, he looked over at you, disappointed with himself at bringing you along in the first place. Looking back at his dad, he said, “Can you believe this guy? Coming back to the scene of the crime? Like that?” He gestured to the dead man. “Talk about big balls.”

“Yeah, well, I bet yours shriveled up a little bit on account of him getting the jump on you,” Roy said. Looking at his son, he said, “Again.”

Letting his anger get the better of him, Gator took off his cap and threw it to the ground, exclaiming, “Son of a bitch!” before yelling out into the air, leaning back a little. 

“Alright, are you done?”

Scoffing, you couldn’t believe that Roy was treating his son this way. 

“Tell me again where you found this Munch guy?”

“I-is that really his name? Munch?” you asked, voice still shaky.

“He says it,” Gator said. “Ohh-lah, and I-I, I didn’t find him. I found his partner.”

“What, the guy with his head in the toilet?” Roy wondered.

Sniffling, you looked at each Tillman man. “W-Wait. There’s a guy with his head in the toilet?”

“Dead,” Gator said, quickly turning his body towards you for a moment before looking back at his father, who he nodded his head at.

“Alright, well, first order of business,” Roy said, sighing. “Little Darlin’ needs to go home. Second order of business, we need information, find out who this guy is. Priors, known accomplices, known hangouts. Then we smoke ‘em loose.”

“If he comes for us again?” Gator asked.

“Oh, believe me, he’s coming,” Roy snapped. “Sleep with your hammer cocked is my opinion, if you sleep at all.” He looked away from his son, muttering, “Jesus.” He picked up the sign and looked at it for a moment before placing it back on the tailgate of the truck. “Alright, the truck goes in the ditch. Alvie behind the wheel. Tell Bruno to report the cause of death as accidental. Then… go to his fiancee’s and break the news.”

“What are you gonna do?” Gator wondered.

“Don’t worry about what I’m gonna do, alright?”

Incredulously, you looked up at your best friend’s father, releasing a quick breath to show your emotion. “Excuse Gator for being a little worried about his fucking father!”

“Doll, it’s okay,” Gator whispered.

Completely disregarding you, Roy spoke to his son. “You’re oh for two here, kid. How do I teach you how to be a winner, you keep losing all the time?”

Your anger started to bubble to the surface, all the adrenaline you were feeling from seeing a murder starting to take shape.

Gator, wanting to impress you still after all those years, says, “I swear to God, him versus me, man-to-man, I’d wipe the floor with him.”

“Yeah, right. Like High Noon? Only happens in the movies, son. Real life, they’ll slit your throat while waiting for the light to change.” He walks away back to his truck, starts it and takes off while Gator walks up to the tailgate and lifts it to close.

“I’d like to slit his fucking throat,” you muttered.

~~~

When Gator finished the tasks that his father had set for him, he started to drive you home in complete silence. Once you noticed that you two were almost at your never-ending driveway, you looked at Gator, and said, “I don’t want to go home. I don’t think I can be alone after what happened tonight.”

He didn’t say anything; just kept on driving. You had wished he played the radio so that he couldn’t hear your soft cries, but you felt his hand on your thigh, you knew had heard you.

Sighing, he squeezed your leg softly. “Doll, I’m–”

“No,” you said, sniffling. “Please don’t. Not right now.”

“Okay,” he whispered. He never moved his hand from your thigh; the placement feeling like… home to him. It felt like home to you, as well. You never wanted him to move it.

“Hey, G?”

“Yeah, dollface?”

“Back in high school–”

“Oh, shit. Here we go.”

Chuckling at his reaction, you looked over at him before your quiet laughter died out. “Uhm… did you hurt that one kid with the tire iron after you told me you wouldn’t?”

Gator went dead quiet, not wanting to say a word. Of course he did, but he didn’t tell you because you had stopped talking to him and hanging out with him. “Why you askin’?” “Because I heard a rumor that you did, and I want you to be straight with me and tell me the truth.”

Sighing, he lightly squeezed your thigh before parking the vehicle in his designated spot. It was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head and said, “Yeah. I did.”

“Gator–” you sighed.

“Listen, I wanted revenge on the little fucker. I coulda gone all the way if he hadn’t broken my leg. Woulda had–”

“A better life?” you asked.

Gator nodded, turning his head to look at you. “I felt like I didn’t have a choice.”

You turned in your seat to face him, cupping his face. “You listen to me, Gator. You always have a choice. Even now, you have a choice. Just because you’re 27 doesn’t mean your choices stop. Your whole fucking life is full of choices. You just have to make the right ones.”

“Can I make one now?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said, brows furrowed.

Without so much as another word, he leaned forward and pressed his lips on yours, giving you the kiss he’d been wanting to give you since you both were sophomores in high school. A kiss that you reveled in, and returned with great passion.

You hadn’t even realized that you climbed over the middle console to straddle his lap. Breaking the kiss for a moment for some much needed air, you breathlessly asked, “Are Karen and the girls home?”

Looking around you, Gator roamed his eyes across the yard, not seeing her car. “I don’t see her car, but she could’ve parked somewhere else.”

“Feel like moving this one somewhere else? Don’t want anyone seeing us, right?”

“Seeing us make out?”

Leaning your head down on his shoulder, you sighed out his name, feeling his shoulder shake from laughter.

“I don’t care if they see,” he said, lifting your head. “I’ve been waiting for this fucking moment since I saw you the other day. Ya’know, other than the times when we were teenagers.”

“You wanted to fuck me then?” you asked, his answer coming out as a nod. Lightly hitting him in the shoulder, you smiled and said, “Why didn’t you ever say anything? I would have!”

“Well, we can now,” he said. “Get your beautiful ass in the back.”

Giggling, you awkwardly made your way to the back seat, watching as Gator also made his way into the back with you, hitting his head on the vehicle’s ceiling a couple of times. Looking up at it, he muttered, “Motherfucker,” before wrapping his arm around your back to guide you to lay down as he kissed you.

You grabbed as his vest, doing your best to take it off before growling in frustration. “Get this fucking thing off, G. It’s pissing me off.”

He chuckled, sitting up the best he could without hitting his head… again. You watched him expertly take off his vest and accessories, biting your bottom lip. Reaching forward, you grabbed the bottom of his shirt not tucked into his pants and pulled up, removing the shirt off his torso. 

Leaning back over you, Gator kissed you with more heat than before, his cock starting to strain in his pants. Pulling back, he kissed your cheek and jaw, working his way down to your neck. “I can’t wait to fuck this pussy. I’ve been dreaming of it for years, dollface.”

“Fuck, Gator,” you whispered. Closing your eyes, you let your senses heighten at the feel of his lips  on your neck, whimpering when you felt him suck on your sweet spot, his tongue licking over the mark he just made.

“That’s to let everyone know that you’re mine, doll. No one else’s. Am I clear?”

Nodding, you opened your eyes, looking him dead in his. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Growling, he lifted you  up to remove your shirt and bra, his eyes going straight to your breasts before going back to your own eyes. Laying you back down, he caged your head between his forearms, gently brushing your hair back. 

“What?” you whispered, gently brushing your hands up and down his sides.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered back.

Looking down at the patch of hair on his chest, your reply of, “You’re only saying that because I’m topless and you saw my breasts.”

Gator put his finger under your chin and raised your head the slightest bit to look into your eyes. “Yes, your breasts are beautiful, but you, dollface, are more beautiful.”

Tears filled your eyes as you took in Gator’s words. You valued being called beautiful more than any other adjective people use to describe someone’s looks. “So are you.” At the look Gator gave you, it made you laugh.

“You’re, like… handsomely beautiful,” you added.

“Okay then,” Gator said, softly. Placing his lips on yours, he decided then and there that he was going to make you his, no matter what. Pulling back just a little, he whispered, “Just so you know, dollface, I won’t go slow. I will risk tipping this fucking truck over as I pound that pussy of yours.”

“O-Ooooohhhhh, shit,” you stuttered, watching as Gator unbuttoned and unzipped your pants.

He guided the material down your legs along with your panties, taking off each shoe to make it easier. Once you were completely naked underneath him, Gator did his best to finish undressing himself before reaching into the front of the truck to retrieve a condom from… wherever he was reaching, you couldn’t see.

As your eyes met his, you watched from your periphery as he rolled the condom onto his hard cock before leaned back over you, placing his lips on yours as he slowly, but not so gently entered you.

“O-o-o-o-oh, ffffffffffffffuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkkkk,” you moaned, reaching up to grab the back of his head. True to his word, Gator started to pound your pussy with just force that the truck, indeed, started to shake. “Just like that, G. Oh, my god, don’t stop!”

To better balance himself above you to look into your eyes, Gator placed his palm on the window, adding to the shakes of the truck. “God, you’re incredible!” he moaned, cupping your face.

You’d dreamt of this moment since your senior year of high school, just months before you stopped talking to Gator. You had thought about breaking your own silence with him by asking him to have sex with you, but you refrained, sticking to your guns, especially after he broke his promise to you.

Gator leaned down and kissed your lips with such fervor, you almost forgot how to breathe. “Yeah, yeah,” he moaned. “Almost there? Almost there?”

You couldn’t speak, this moment with him feeling in-fucking-credible. “I’m almost there, Gator. Don’t stop! If you do-” Moan. “I’ll cut your fucking dick off and feed to you.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. His chuckle turned into a full on laugh when he heard pounding on the window above your head.

The both of you looked up, seeing none other than Roy Tillman standing there with your father, a look of shock on your face that quickly turned into one of pleasure as you felt Gator’s finger touch your clit.

“Fuck, Gator,” you moaned, not caring that your father was watching you get fucked.

“Gonna fuckin’ come for me, dollface?” Gator asked. “Gonna fuckin’ come all over this cock?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “I’m gonna come all over your cock. Oh, my god, I’m coming. Gator, I’m coming. I’m-” Your words were cut off with the loudest moan you’d ever done, loudly whimpering as your climax washed over you, your core turning sensitive. “Gator, I’m getting sens-”

“I’m almost there, dollface,” he groaned, dipping his head into your neck. Letting out a loud moan of his own after a few more thrusts, Gator was spilling into the condom, the both of you wishing it was you he was spilling into instead of the condom.

Gator decided to voice his thought, saying, “Fuck, that was amazing, dollface.” Looking up at you, he added, “But I wish I had come inside of your pussy rather this fuckin’ condom.”

Laughing, your hands cupped his cheeks, bringing him down towards your lips in a sweet kiss. 

Before the two of you could sit in the post-sex bliss, the knocking on the window sounded again, this time Roy’s voice coming through the window as he asked, “You two done?”

Looking from Gator to Roy, you replied, “I wouldn’t mind round two.”

“Get the hell out of the truck,” your father said, walking off. 

After your father and Roy walked off, you looked at Gator for a brief moment before the two started laughing, almost hysterically. “Come on, doll,” Gator said. “Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed.”

About ten minutes later, the two of you were dressed and walking into the house, ignoring both of your father’s stares as you walked through the kitchen and to the stairs, where Gator had stopped you just to kiss you.

Pulling back, he looked at you, a slight smile on his face. “I’ve always loved you, dollface. Did you know that?” With a smile on your face, you leaned up just the slightest, a smile on your face as you replied. “Yes, and I you, Gator Tillman.”

Pushing a piece of hair behind your ear, Gator said, “Now, here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna take you into my bedroom, eat this pussy until you’re coming all over my face, and then I’m gonna make the sweetest love to you before I pound that pussy once again until us and my sheets are covered in cum and sweat. What do you say?”

“I say…” You stepped up a couple of steps, now standing a little higher than Gator with a playful smirk on your face. “What are you waiting for, G?” Turning your back to him, you started walking up the stairs before looking back at him, squealing as you watched him run after you before you, too, bolted up the steps and into his room, ready for round two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! this is probably the longest standalone fic i've ever written, lol. let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: as i stated above with the triggers, i've never written anything like this before. some of these scenes were hard to write. if you did read and you were triggered by it, please do not send me any hate comments or messages in my inbox for something of mine you read knowing what the triggers were. i just let my imagination run and this is what it came up with it.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Gator Tillman Taglist: @ali-r3n​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines and plot, aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Noah Hawley.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on January 4, 2025