#brett dalton x reader

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔙𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱

Mike munroe x male reader

A request that I received from a really nice person here on tumblr: a small idea I liked for a fic if you like the idea as well. Nothing too big, just a fic about Reader and Chris being brothers and constantly nagging each other about their crushes on Ashley and Mike.

I expanded the request a bit, sorry if I went overboard with it. Hope you enjoyed it.

Tags: set before the event of the game. Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Chris and the reader are brothers. Some very quick shifts of pov between characters. Jealousy. Mike and Jess/ Emily are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Mike is a flirt.

Words count: 4000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 Part 2 of it

For anyone interested, I took inspiration from this clue that you can find while playing as Chris.

The music thumps in the background, a mix of bass-heavy beats and voices blending into a dull roar. You and Chris sit at a small, round table near the back, well out of the action but with a good view of everyone mingling.

"So," Chris says, taking a long, dramatic sip. "You actually spent the whole night staring at Mike. Dude, seriously, you're lucky your eyes didn't burn a hole in the back of his head."

You scoff, leaning back in your chair with a mock sigh. "Like you're any better. When are you actually gonna talk to Ashley? She's cool, she's cute, she's well, out of your league but hey, a guy can dream.”

"Hey, I do talk to her," Chris retorts, feigning offense.

"Uh-huh," you say, raising an eyebrow. "It’s a lot if you can manage to squeak out a sentence before turning red.”

Chris chuckles, crossing his arms. "Fine. Why don't you go up to Mike and tell him what you think? 'Hey, by the way, I've been thinking about how perfect your jawline is all night!’ I'm sure that'll go over great." He did a horrible interpretation of your voice to mock you even further.

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks flush just a bit. "First of all, I would never phrase it like that. And second, at least I actually know things about him beyond his favorite book."

"Oh, really? Let's see who knows more about their crush. No cheating. No wimping out. Winner gets bragging rights." Chris leans forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Bragging rights? How about you admit I'm objectively hotter than you when I win?" you echoed, folding your arms.

"Sure. Whatever fantasy helps you sleep at night," Chris said, grinning as he dramatically cracked his knuckles. “I'll go first since I know you're just dying to hear all the juicy Ashley knowledge."

You chuckle. "Go with your in-depth research, Sherlock."

Chris clears his throat, sitting up straighter. "Fine. For starters, her favorite color is purple."

You make a face, unimpressed. "That's it? You think knowing her favorite color makes you the expert here?"

"Let me finish, smartass. She loves thriller movies. She also has this little habit of chewing on her nails when she's nervous."

You raise an eyebrow, genuinely impressed but unwilling to give him the satisfaction. "Okay, okay, not bad. But that's kid stuff. Let me show you how it's done."

Chris rolls his eyes, clearly not expecting much. "Alright, hotshot. Give me your best Mike trivia."

You sit forward, lowering your voice like you're letting him in on a secret. You have always been good at noticing things. Maybe it was a result of growing up with Chris and when it came to Mike Munroe, your crush, the small things were more than just interesting, they were revealing.

For one, every morning, without fail, he was up before the sun. He’d go for a quick run to stay in shape. You’d always catch glimpses of him at college heading back to his room in a tank top, earbuds in, eyes focused ahead and glimpses of sweat on his forehead.

He had this tough, confident exterior. He wasn’t loud like some of the others in the group. He had a way of using humor to deflect, to keep people from getting too close. You saw it when he’d brush off any talk about specific topics.

And then there were his tastes.

He likes his coffee black. Pretends it's macho. He had a surprising amount of nostalgia in his preferences. You couldn’t forget the time you’ve talked together casually on the lodge, his face lighting up as he talked about his love for old action movies.

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Alright. Maybe you’re better equipped than me. But, let's be real, you wouldn't even know where to start."

"Better than starting with nothing," you counter. "Besides, I could charm him if I wanted to."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "What would you even say?"

You grin, leaning in like you're revealing a grand plan. "I'd just walk up and ask him about his football season. Mention that time he scored the winning touchdown. You instead are hopeless"

Chris nods, pretending to take you seriously. "Oh, sure, because that'll definitely make him swoon. Hopeless? Me?" Chris laughs, leaning back with a smirk. "At least I don't have to worry about being mistaken for a stalker."

You both burst into laughter. For all the banter, you know neither of you would really judge the other for these harmless crushes. It's what makes the night so much fun.

From across the room, you caught sight of Ashley standing awkwardly near a table stacked with half-empty snack bowls and crumpled napkins. She shifted from foot to foot, clearly trying to blend into the background.

"Hey, Romeo. This is your chance," you said, leaning closer and nudging Chris with your elbow.

Chris snapped out of his trance, his head swiveling toward Ashley. His brows furrowed slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in amusement before settling back into a more thoughtful expression.

Chris groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "What am I supposed to do? Walk up and make everything even more embarrassing?"

"News flash: she knows you're a loser," but she clearly likes you anyway. Stop overthinking it. Just go talk to her. Be romantic for once. She loves that whole 'awkward and sincere' thing you've got going on."

"First of all," Chris said, pointing a finger at you, "I'm not awkward. I'm, uh, charmingly self-aware. Second, what if I say something dumb? Or worse, nothing at all? I can't just walk up to her and-"

"You're a coward," you interrupted, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

"Yep," he said, popping the "p" and lifting his cup in mock toast.

You were scanning the room until your gaze landed on Mike Munroe.

He was leaning casually against the wall, drink in hand, chatting with a girl you vaguely recognized from English class. His tuxedo fit him perfectly, tailored in all the right places, the dark fabric catching the light just enough to highlight his athletic build. The black foulard tied loosely around his neck was an elegant touch, a little different from the usual bow ties and neckties most guys wore. His hair was perfectly tousled, like he hadn't even tried but still managed to look effortlessly handsome.

You felt your chest tighten. For a moment, your imagination betrayed you, painting a picture of Mike turning toward you, smiling like he did when he told one of his dumb jokes when he got elected class president. You could almost hear his laugh, warm and inviting, as if it were just for you. But reality snapped back into focus when the girl he was talking to leaned closer.

"Mike would never look twice at me like that." You mumble more to yourself without thinking, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice.

Chris, placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was light but reassuring. "Don't do that to yourself. You're a catch. If Mike doesn't see that, he's an idiot."

You looked up at him, grateful but unconvinced. Chris stood up, brushing imaginary lint off his jacket. "I'm getting us drinks. Let's make it through the rest of this night together, yeah?"

You nodded, watching as he made his way to the bar. You glance around, your gaze landing once more on Ashley and an idea strikes you. Chris is now far away from your position. It’s your chance to do something.

You stride over to her, flashing a friendly smile, keeping your movements casual so you wouldn't startle her. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed you, but she relaxed as you softly took her arm.

"Hey," you said, grinning playfully as you gently guided her away from the corner.

Ashley laughed, the sound light and genuine. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement but no resistance as you led her toward your table.

"Come on, you can't let Chris and I have all the fun sitting in the corner judging everyone." you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a mock-serious expression.

"That's what you two have been doing all night? Very productive." She scanned the place as you reached the table and she managed to spot Chris at the bar, meticulously mixing something with an unusual level of focus. But then her gaze shifted, catching Mike watching the two of you.

Jaw set, lips pressed into a firm line, eyes tracked the way you gently tugged Ashley along. His gaze lingered on your hand before flicking back up to your face. Lips pressed together in a faint, almost imperceptible scowl, as though something about the sight of the two of you together unsettled him. There was a slight tension in his posture, the way his shoulders seemed just a bit too stiff for someone casually enjoying a party.

Chris returned with two drinks in hand. "Okay, I've done it," he announced dramatically. "The ultimate drink. If you don't like it, I'm never speaking to you ag-" He cut himself off mid-sentence when he saw Ashley sitting at the table, smiling up at him.

"I... uh..." Chris stammered, turning an impressive shade of pink.

"You made this for me?” Ashley asked sweetly, taking the drink from his hand before he could respond. “Thank you, Mr. Bartender."

Chris blinks and he lets out a nervous laugh, giving you a quick glare as he hands the drink to Ashley.

She giggles, taking a sip and you watch as Chris visibly relaxes. They share a smile and there's a warm, unspoken understanding between them, a quiet moment that you can't help but feel a bit envious of.

The music shifts, slowing into a softer, more romantic melody. Couples move onto the dance floor, swaying together in a slow embrace. Ashley’s eyes light up as she turns to Chris, her cheeks flushed with a faint rosy tint from the slight inebriation she feels. "Come on, Chris," she says, tugging at his hand. "Want to go there for a bit?"

Chris's eyes dart to you, searching your face for reassurance, his expression almost apologetic. He's asking, without words, if you'll be okay.

You manage a smile, giving him a nod.

Chris lets out a laugh, his tension melting away as he lets Ashley pull him onto the dance floor. They disappear into the crowd, leaving you alone at the table. You watch them go, feeling a bittersweet pang in your chest as you take in the sight of them together, laughing and smiling, fitting together so effortlessly. Chris fumbling his way through the first few steps before finding his rhythm.

They looked so happy.

And you were here instead, alone at the table, your thoughts inevitably drifting back to Mike.

Chris feels his heart race as he stands on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on Ashley's waist, her arms draped over his shoulders as they sway to the gentle rhythm of the music. Her gaze meets his every so often, a smile warm and genuine, making him feel like the only person in the room.

"I didn't know you had these moves." she teases, her eyes twinkling.

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, trust me, I don't. I'm just doing my best not to crush your toes."

Ashley laughs, her grip tightening on his shoulders as she rolls her eyes. "You're doing just fine. I don't mind if you, you know, relax a little."

"Relax? Yeah, I can... I can do that," he says, voice faltering as he tries to ease into the rhythm, matching her movements as the song continues.

His focus wavers after a while, gaze drifting over her shoulder as he catches sight of his brother sitting across the room at one of the tables with Matt nearby.

There's something off about the way you're holding yourself. You're smiling, sure, even laughing at something Matt is saying, but Chris can tell that the smile doesn't quite reach your eyes. It's the kind of forced expression he's seen on you before, usually when you're trying to act like everything's fine when it really isn't.

Matt, on the other hand, seems entirely oblivious, leaning in a bit too close, his face lit up with that typical over-eager grin. He's almost leaning into your personal space as he chats away, looking way too thrilled to have your undivided attention, his eyes never leaving yours. The proximity feels a bit too familiar, too comfortable, with his arm casually resting on the back of your chair.

Chris feels a pang of protectiveness twist in his gut. He glances around the room, half-expecting Emily to appear and pull Matt back to the dance floor, but there's no sign of her. Instead, he spots her on the far side of the room, tipsy and laughing as she spins around with some stranger she's apparently mistaken for Matt. She's caught up in the music, oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend is practically glued to your side.

Ashley notices his distraction, her gaze softening as she studies him. "Chris?" she asks, her voice gentle, bringing him back to the moment. "Is everything okay?"

He blinks, snapping his attention back to her, guilt creeping in as he realizes he's been distracted. "Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Just... got a lot on my mind."

Ashley smiles, tilting her head as she searches his face. "You sure? You can tell me, you know."

Chris hesitates, glancing around the room one more time. His gaze lands on Mike, who's slow-dancing with the girl in glittering dress. She's leaning against him, her head resting on his chest, but Mike's attention isn't on her.

His eyes are locked in your direction, his brow furrowed and his jaw set in a subtle scowl that's hard to miss. There's a tension in his gaze as he watches you and Matt together. There's a faint scowl tugging at his mouth, a subtle clenching of his jaw that makes it look like he's holding back the urge to step in but doesn't quite know how to act on it. His brows are drawn together and his eyes flick between you and Matt with a guarded intensity.

Chris frowns, glancing back at you. It's clear now that something is brewing beneath the surface, something he doesn't fully understand but can sense all the same. He looks down at Ashley, his expression softening as he makes up his mind.

"Hey, Ash?" he asks quietly, feeling a bit awkward but determined. "Would you mind helping me out with something real quick? I, uh... I owe someone a favor.”

You were mid-laugh at something Matt had said about his latest sports practice when a shadow loomed over the table. You looked up to find Mike standing there, holding his drink loosely in one hand and the other casually tucked in his pocket.

"Hey, Matt," Mike said, his tone light but carrying a subtle edge like he's asking for a favor he already expects to be granted. "Mind if I steal him for a bit?"

Matt's smile falters, and he glances at you, a bit reluctant, as if he doesn't quite want to let go of the moment he's carved out. "Uh... well, we were just-"

"Looks like Emily's about to make out with that guy," Mike interrupted, tilting his head toward the dance floor. "You might wanna handle that before it gets messy."

Matt whipped his head around, his face paling slightly as he spotted Emily drunkenly giggling and leaning far too close to the stranger. "Shit," he muttered, scrambling to his feet. "I'll, uh, catch you later." he says to you, giving you a quick nod before he disappears into the crowd.

"Yeah, sure," Mike said smoothly, his smirk widening as Matt hurried off. You glance back at him just in time to catch a wicked grin flash across his face as he watches Matt weave his way toward Emily.

He turns back to you and without a moment's hesitation, he slides into Matt's now-empty chair, shifting it even closer to yours with an obnoxiously loud scrap of wood against the floor. He dropped into the seat with a satisfied sigh. His arm resting along the back of your chair but soon sliding fully around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

The warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, earthy with a hint of spice, made your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. From this close, you could see every detail of his face: the light beard perfectly trimmed along his jaw, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the infuriatingly perfect way his smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. He was leaning into his persona, that cocky, playful charm cranked up to eleven and it was doing things to your brain you weren't sure you were ready to admit.

"Well, this is cozy," Mike said, his voice low and smooth. "Didn't think Matt was ever gonna leave. Guy's got some stamina for talking, huh?"

You blinked, struggling to form words. "Uh, yeah. He's chatty"

Mike chuckled, the sound warm and teasing "Chatty? That's the nicest way to put it. Bet he's been boring you to death, huh?"

"Not entirely," you said, though your voice was far too shaky to be convincing. "He's enthusiastic."

Mike raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "You're too nice, you know that? If I had to sit through more than five minutes of that guy's rambling, I'd be asleep in my chair."

You laughed, though it came out a little too breathy. "Maybe I'm just better at pretending to be interested."

"Pretending, huh?" Mike's smirk widened. "So, what about me? Are you pretending to enjoy this little moment we're having?"

Your brain short-circuited. "I... I mean, no. I-uh... you're not boring. Definitely not boring."

"Good to know," Mike said, his voice dipping slightly as he leaned in just a fraction closer. "I'd hate to think I was putting you to sleep."

"You're not," you managed to say, your face burning.

Mike grinned, clearly reveling in your flustered state. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

“I’m not nervous,” you said quickly, though your gaze flickered away from his, betraying you.

“Sure you’re not,” Mike murmured, his fingers brushing just a little too close against your shoulder, the touch lingering for a beat longer than necessary. “What were you and Matt talking about? You looked a little bored." His tone was smooth but there was a faint edge to it now, like he was testing the air.

You noticed the subtle shift in his expression. His jaw tightening just slightly, his eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second as if he didn’t quite like the idea of you and Matt sharing a private moment.

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Just sport stuff and his latest victory for his team. He was just being friendly,” you added, trying to sound indifferent.

You didn’t miss the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flickered just briefly toward the ground before locking onto yours again.

Mike’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, he looked real friendly.” The smirk that followed didn’t help, pulling at the corner of his mouth as if he was more amused than you thought he should be.

You raised an eyebrow, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

For a moment, Mike just stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Nothing,” he said too quickly, the innocence in his voice so forced that you could almost feel the tension cracking around him. The grin stretched wider, like a challenge. “Just saying, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Matt was hitting on you.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a flush of heat spread across your cheeks. You tried to play it off, but there was no denying the way your heart stuttered in your chest. “He wasn’t,” you said quickly, your voice coming out a little more defensively than you intended.

"Either way. Figured I'd come over and I don't know... make the night more interesting for you. Prom only happens once, right? Gotta make the most of it. Besides—” His voice softens, his gaze locking onto yours with a sincerity that takes you off guard. "—I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time with you."

You swallow, feeling the heat rise to your face as his words sink in. "You have?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, his thumb grazing your shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion. "I mean, I could've come over sooner but you were busy with your brother. Then you were with Matt and I figured, maybe it's time I got a little selfish."

The intensity in his gaze makes it hard to breathe and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, caught between disbelief and exhilaration. "I... didn't think you noticed me like that," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike's grin softens, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently rest on your waist, pulling you even closer. "I notice a lot more than you think," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Like how you always look away when you think I'm watching, or how you get that little crease in your forehead when you're trying not to smile too much."

Mike makes a silent note to himself to later thank Chris for the insights he’d shared minutes ago.

You laugh, feeling both embarrassed and overjoyed. "Okay, now you're just showing off."

He chuckles, his arm tightening around your waist as he dips his head a bit closer, his voice a soft murmur. "Can't help it. You’ve got me so close to losing it and you don’t even realize it." His fingers press gently into your side.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with a tenderness that surprises you. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, a vulnerability that makes your heart race. “Let me be the happiest guy in this place tonight.”

You feel your pulse race at the invitation, your mind whirling with both excitement and uncertainty. "What about that girl you were with?" you ask, your voice quiet and hesitant, unable to stop yourself from wondering.

Mike's smirk returns, his hold on your waist tightening slightly as he leans in, his voice a soft, almost possessive murmur. "She's not you. You’re the only one I can’t get out of my head.” His voice is rough, coated in something darker.

You meet his gaze, feeling your breath hitch as you search his face, trying to process the weight of his words.

He takes his chance to lean in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that leaves your heart racing. His lips crashing into yours with a desperate urgency that leaves you reeling. His hand slides around your waist, fingers tightening as he pulls you against him. The heat of his body sears through your clothes, and his thumb traces a slow, deliberate line along your cheek, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, that familiar cocky edge in his eyes. His eyes burn with that familiar, dangerous gleam-a challenge, a promise. His breath is ragged, as if he's barely holding back.

"Still up for that dance? Because I've got this new boyfriend I'd really like to show off." he whispers, his voice low and teasing. His breath brushes your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. He looks at you with that trademark mischievous grin, the one that could melt anyone’s defenses.

A rush of warmth floods your chest at his words, a mixture of giddiness and disbelief. Your heart skips, caught between the sweetness of the moment and the thrill of his presence. The corners of your mouth twitch up as you meet his gaze, and though you can barely keep your composure, you nod.

Mike's grin widens and as he takes your hand, guiding you to the dance floor, you feel as if you're floating, lost in the warmth of his gaze and the excitement of being his.

Note: if you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3

[jackiequick]

In fifty years, will all this be declassified? | Agents Of SHIELD Fanfic

Pairing: Amelia M. Parker & Grant Ward (WardParker)

Summary: In other words, suffering is worse than falling down low..

Characters feature/mentioned: Kara Palamas, Melissa Wallace, Marlene Kassdy, The Young Avengers

Timeline: Set a year after Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Agents Of Shield Season 2 (2014-2015)

Warning: Mentions of torture, blood, needles, heartbreak and fighting

Fic Type: Angst

——

A/N: Goodness, someone help them all. Also sorry if it's a long fic! I hope you enjoy it ;) And yes I reference a Taylor Swift song as the title hehe

Inspired by: Agents Of Shield 2x21/22

—

Dry pastel lit color faded between the clouds, as the soft yet grime shades filled the room. 

The air thick with dust and the distant sound of wind howling against the cracked windows. A mild, yet faint screeching pierced the silence, mingling with the rhythmic dripping of water somewhere in the shadows.

The autumn chill that sinked though the cracks of the door made its way towards her body, responding her eyes to slowly flutter open. She squinted her eyes turning her around to see the area she was set in.

Confusion wrapped around her like a mask; the last thing she remembered was sifting through the scattered remnants of an old agent’s life in a deserted apartment, searching for files that could’ve been used for other purposes.

It was darkly and dimly lit when she made herself present in that apartment reaching for the last lines of the forgotten report, hearing a soft thud, a shadow looming behind her—then nothing.

Amelia blinked, forcing her mind to piece together the fragments, but all she grasp was the nagging dull pain against her neck. Her fingers twitching waking themselves up only to hit a wooden board. She glanced down to noticed her wrists were against a table, yet her ankles were tied backwards to the chair.

She tugged against the restraints, but they held firm, the rough fibers biting into her skin. Panic clawed at her throat as she took in her surroundings: the rusted beams overhead, the scattered debris underfoot, and the faint light filtering through the grime-coated windows.

With every strained breath, the cold air seeped deeper into her bones, heightening her senses. The screeching outside grew louder, mingling with the pounding of her heart.

Just then, a door creaked open somewhere in the warehouse, and her breath caught in her throat. Amelia huffed and winced catching sight of who it was.

Grant Ward.

Following behind him was Agent 33, Kara Palamas, an a former SHIELD agent. Her was brain given some deep suffering, due to memory loss from Daniel Whitehall and of course she was helped afterward, tested by Fitzsimmons, then she left again. More or less…

Grant smiled sitting across the table from her. One of fingers lightly pushes a strand of hair away from Amelia’s face to see her clearly. Grant will never admit it but he didn’t like having her kidnapped, but he needed SHIELD to reveal any information that had on the Projects and Daniel Whitehall.

Amelia was one of SHIELD most well known and possibly active agents they had. According to the rumor mill she was loved and appreciated, having help put The Young Avengers together, being his co-captain in the very beginning of Coulson’s team back in 2013 and the list went on.

But he knew that Amelia Parker only scratched the surface, of the people she was surrounded by. He knew that none of the recruits and so-called friends truly cared for her, watched her six. If they did care, they would’ve found her by now. Hell, Agent Hill was the one who pushed her senseless into being the agent she was today. 

The poor workaholic agent who was pushed to the brink of it all, making the choices to see the good in others and step in to put herself in danger for the sake of the people around her. 

For the sake of the mission. 

Pushing down all the hurt and blame for her own sake. Taking the hits, making the kills and watching the ones she cared for suffer. 

All Grant wanted to do was keep her safe, have her join him in the mist of SHIELD’s fall back in 2014 and live on the run. But she refused to stay with him.

Because her loyalty was too high and her trust in others were on the balancing act of being destroy right before her eyes.

And yet, here she sat in front of him, her own green eyes staring right into his brown ones.  

“Hi baby.” He said in a calm low tone. 

She held a tight calm smile as she responded, “Hi.

“I’mma cut to the chase. You do know why you’re here, right?”

“Cause you miss me, hon?”

Kara, who was standing a few steps behind Grant, crossed her arms and held back a scoff at her remark. She knew the two had history, which annoyed her completely.

“Miss you? That’s a bold assumption,” Kara shot back, forcing the humor even as her pulse raced slightly.

Grant leaned forward, the smile fading as he studied her. “You’re in a warehouse, tied to a chair. I don’t want to play games, Ames.”

Kara shifted, her posture rigid as she eyed Amelia. “You don’t have to protect her anymore, Grant. She’s not one of us…”

“Not one of us?” Amelia echoed, the bite in her voice sharper than she intended. “You think that just because you’re playing for a different side now, it makes you less of a traitor?”

Kara bristled, but Grant raised a hand, silencing the tension in the room.  “This isn’t about sides,” he said, his tone even but strained. “It’s about information. SHIELD’s been sitting on something big, and I need you to help me find it.”

Amelia’s mind raced at the thought. The thought of betraying her former team sent a chill through her. “And what if I refuse? What makes you think I will help you?”

He leaned closer, intensity radiating from him. “Then you’ll stay here. And trust me, we both know I always find another way to get what I need. But it won’t be pretty for you.”

“Is that a threat, baby?”

“Call it a promise. I said don’t ever want to hurt you, Ames, not again, but if it comes to it, I will.”

Amelia’s eyes fell of Kara and exhaled, “And her?”

Grant noticed her gaze and leaned backwards. His expression turned serious as he said, “Kara, is none of your concern.”

“Liar. What is it that I did that so wrong to her?”

Kara shifted and met her gaze, leaning forward with a slight glare. “You know what you did, you're responsible for my kidnapping, you and Wallace had my location rigid and led me to Whitehall. When I did escape, Marlene and the others were late to get me back to base. I was tortured and enslaved for what felt like ages!”

Amelia’s eyes darted as she shifted, trying to stand up from her chair. She snarled, “The location was rigid to begin with! It wasn’t mine or Melissa’s fault. It was none of our faults!”

“Then apologize!”

“For a miscommunication? I did weeks ago!”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“..why have it be just me? Not strap Melissa or anyone else to a chair?”

That’s when Kara allowed a small smirk to appear on her face.

“Because. Melissa will just give me a snarky remark and scream, she’s not trained for the physical and mental discomfort across the body. But you are.” Kara explained to Amelia.

Amelia’s eyes darted back to Ward with a warning tone. “Grant.” She muttered. 

Grant stood from his seat and grabbed a device from the wall as he contained the explanation to a minimum, “We’re using you as an advantage here, Ames. If we want SHIELD to give us what they want as well and see a piece of them crumble, why not have one of their finest agents be the representation of it all?”

“Which means?” Amelia asked.

“We will keep you here.” Kara said, “In result, disorient the other agents such as Melissa, Marlene and your precious boyfriend, who I bet has no idea that your gone, into running around in rampage looking for you. The more pain you inflect, will give the others no choice but to give us the information needed.”

Amelia’s heart raced with a mix of fear and defiance as the words hung in the air. 

She scoffed as a small smile broke across her face. A shake chuckle escaped her hips for whatever reason. “You’re both just petty and delusional.” Amelia remarked. “Even if it I am not found by them, and I’m tortured. You realize that The Young Avengers will get concerned and try to find me, right?”

Grant crossed his arms and shook her head, as he strapped a wires and tightened the chair a bit more. Beforehand, he used anesthetic to remove any sensation of pain from Morse-Parker, however the sensation of the shockwaves and needles will be an unbearable pain, hitting her body all at once. 

Kara claimed to many beforehand, that was the pain she felt when she was harmed by Whitehall and when she regained control of her mind once again. 

When no one answered her remarked about The Young Avengers—Liane, Rick, Rochelle, Cole and the others—would grow panicked and try to find her, it was a clear as day response. They were too busy and selfish to care for others’s turmoil to save them. Kara and Grant convey that answer by just exchanging a glance at Amelia.

 Amelia's heart raced, a mixture of defiance and dread coursing through her veins. “You really think that will work? You’re underestimating them.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, masking the worry gnawing at her.

Grant tightened the straps, his brow furrowed with frustration. “It’s not about underestimating them. It’s about making them desperate.”

Kara’s smirk faded as she stepped closer. “You think they care enough to risk everything for you? They’ve got their own battles to fight. You’re just a pawn in this game, Amelia.”

The weight of her words hit harder than any blow. Memories of laughter and camaraderie flashed through Amelia’s mind, but the shadows of doubt loomed larger. She shook her head, unwilling to let them see her falter. “You’re wrong. They won’t stop searching for me.”

Grant leaned back, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “And if they do find you, what then? You think they’ll storm in here and rescue you? They don’t even know where you are.”

Kara stepped closer, her voice low and chilling. “They’ll waste time chasing ghosts, and by the time they figure it out, it’ll be too late.”

-----

A silence fell, heavy with unspoken truths. Amelia felt the chill in the air deepen, a reminder of her vulnerability as the hours went by. She felt herself growing hungry and weak by the second, as her eyes tried their hardest to not give into the weight and close themselves.

Deep into the night, the weight of Grant and Kara’s words hit pierced harder than any words. Every moment spent in the room, tied to the chair, her wrists trying to wiggle out of the restrains and the needles digging into her fingers send an engulfing pain across her body. The wires sending shockwaves through her body, were just as bad, she could practically taste the metal in the air, under her skin. 

Amelia was on the brink of giving into the pain and torment, that she was lost caused. She wasn’t going to be saved. That Kara and Grant were right. She was fool to think SHIELD and The Young Avengers—her friends—would care to save her. To release any evidence in hopes of having her come back to them.

That loyalty and trust that tied her to her team was slipping between her fingers.

She could’ve sworn she heard typing of a laptop and invoices being messaged between the two in another room, whenever Kara or Grant weren’t inside with her. She could hear Grant’s low murmur, the occasional sharp retort from Kara. The sound of certain agents from the messages, such as Marlene, her voice was faintly heard, so was Melissa. A flicker of Jeremy’s tone of voice and a few others that she didn’t quite recognize.

She wondered if Jeremy was negotiating a deal to the data on Whitehall or some kind of information in general. She wondered if Melissa trying to relocate the trace of the phone's pattern to her location, or maybe Marlene had just threaten to murder Ward.

Gods know what the others on the line must've been discussing.

However nothing from The Young Avengers.

As for their mouths moving? Conversation between the three echo though the warehouse, a mixture of screams, snarky remarks, and words that were sharper than a knife. Grant was one of the few people, who knew her better than anyone, he had a hand in training her and sense her downfall from a mile away. 

He knew that she knows that there was no one coming from her. And if they did. They would be too late, suffering the lost of someone who they assumed, they care for deeply. It was a twisted symphony of betrayal and desperation that echoed around her, each note driving the point home: she was alone.

Speaking of echos being said, at one point, when Amelia refused to once again to apologize to Kara, the closure to heal according to Grant, the brunette slapped Amelia across the face before she walked around the chair with a wicked smirk.

“If you want a nice view of my ass, sweetheart, that will be...” Amelia said in a slight witty tone, however her voice trailed off, hearing the sound of fabric and a wince of a blade, “..what is she doing?”

Grant didn’t let her swift her neck around to see the damage about to inflect upon her, instead snatching her chin under his fingers, forcing her to face him. For a fleeting moment, his gaze softened, a hint of regret flickering in his brown eyes.

“You don’t have to do this, Ames. We can work this out—” He said in a soft tone. 

“No.“ Amelia cut him off, her tone resolute, almost shaking in a hush tone, “Not like this..”

Before she can even repeat her words, a sharp passing of a knife slide across the back of her knees, her inner knees, as she let out a deep whine. She squeezed her eyes and gasped breathing heavily, her chest rising and fall, due to the action taking place. Her eyes water as she gulped, catching Grant’s gaze as she tried to wipe her face towards Kara.

Amelia’s breath came in ragged gasps, the pain radiating through her legs, refusing to show weakness, however it was clear. Grant’s grip on her chin tightened, his gaze searching hers for a flicker of compliance.

Kara stepped closer, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You really think you’re in control here? You’re tied up, and your friends are miles away. This is your reality now.”

Amelia felt the weight of her words sink in, but she wouldn’t give in just yet. “And if I break? If I give they what you want? What happens then?”

She shrugged, a cruel smile curling her lips. “Maybe we’ll let you go. Maybe I won’t. It all depends on how entertaining you are.”

Before Amelia could respond, Grant’s expression shifted, a flicker of anger crossing his face. “Enough, Kara. This isn’t a game.”

Kara rolled her eyes, dismissing his concern. “Oh please, Grant. You’re not her keeper. She made her choices.”

Amelia’s eyes flickered between the pair. Despite Grant’s protectiveness over her, he was true as day that he cared for Kara just the same. He may claim to still love her, but his heart had made space for Kara. She scoffed, honestly, with how delusional they both were, they desires each other. 

“Choices?” Amelia scoffed, her voice steady despite the pain. “Um, I didn’t choose to be here, and you know it.”

Grant’s jaw tightened, a mix of frustration and a hint of guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t want this for you, Amelia. I wanted to protect you.”

“By letting Kara and yourself torture me?” she shot back, her gaze unwavering. “You’re not protecting me, Grant. You lied to me once, you’ll do it again.”

He always said that one thing, she will understand everything he ever done, but she won’t. One look from Kara and Grant, and she realized she was more than a pawn, in this sick game. She’s the queen. The moment she decide to cooperate or her teammates come and find her, give them any information about Whitehall, the game changes. 

If she might even survive this.

----------------------

The hours went by, no help, no hope of salvation—none. 

It was hopeless.

She whimpered and winced, gasping for air as her fingers were being pierced by needles and her body was attached to the wires from earlier. She has been yelled at, bleeding and bruised.

She was purely shaking at this point. At least she was able to convince Ward to release her ankles for some breathing room. However, she was cold. From her feet to her toes, despite the clothing she was wearing, she was feeling the air bouncing against her skin.

As she wiggled her wrists against the restraints, searching for any weakness, the faint sound of footsteps approached. She held her breath, heart pounding, readying herself for whatever was to come.

The door creaked open, and Grant stepped inside. He paused, meeting her gaze with a mixture of concern and resolve. 

“You okay?” he asked, a hint of sincerity breaking through his hardened facade.

Her voice was slightly shaky under her breath, “Is that even a question?”

“Ames.”

“Not even close, and you know it.” 

“It’s gonna be a long night, I knew you’ll be tough. Coulson’s got an eye for talent.”

“So did you..”

He sighed, his harden facade slowly returned, as a tone that was undoubtedly unreadable appeared. He sat down across from her. Her breathing was deep and hitched, her glares softened ever so slightly, before slowly hardening once again.

“You and I are a lot alike, Ames.” He began, his voice simple yet smooth. “Emotions buried deep inside where nowhere will ever find it.”

She shook her head lightly, “Why’s that? Because you know me very well?” “Because the reason why you kill and fight and recruit others..it’s not because you feel it’s a duty.”

“It is..you caught onto that lesson very early on. Being pushed to the prime level, because it hides whatever uncertainty you have..”

“That’s what you think? Are you referring to me or yourself?”

Amelia paused remembering a conversation she had with Skye involving the context of Ward. He kills because of his emotional attachment and his desire to help, not just for his own desire but for a gain. 

But there was something more to that.

After a moment Amelia said under her breath as she admitted, “..it’s not because of nothing, or that it’s a duty to serve..it’s because you feel too much..i feel too much..”

Grant watched her eyes gearing up, the shift in her eyes, at the realization. The pain, the despair, the suffering, the repeated questions and conversation. It was like memories flashed—every laugh, every time she was snapped at, every snarl or glare, every moment of believing in trust and faith—it all came crashing down upon her.

The right push and she can be forced to see the truth, even if she denied it. Hell, the words that Amelia said hit Grant as hard a brick. It wasn’t false, he did care, sometimes way too much. But like he said, he buried it deep, to save himself the heartbreak and torment.

However he did say if Amelia didn’t corporate, or if SHIELD didn’t release information on Whitehall, he will do a certain job. One that she has seen done before..

“Baby, listen to me.” Grant said, bringing her back to the moment holding up needle in-between his fingers. “Kara needs closure. Your teammates are already suffering with no idea where you are, thanks to Kara. But you, just admit you betrayed her and we can end this.”

She scoffed, “You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Betray her? Honey, may I remind you that you betrayed your whole entire team! You betrayed me.”

“For the—! For the hundredth time, I was loyal to Garrett, not HYDRA!”

“For the hundredth time, I don’t care!”

“Amelia!”

“What?! You always have that excuse or decide to blame Garrett for your choices!”

“We both know, if it was the other way another and you were in my shoes, you would understand! We talked about this!”

“I know! And for the that, I say, screw you!”

That’s when Grant leaned forward against the table, his body dangling among the chair he sat in. Their face were mere inches apart, they can feel the other’s hot breath against one another’s face. Every scare, bump and bruise, laced across their face.

The tension was heating off their bodies, their breathing was thick and hitched. 

“You don’t know me as well, as you think you do.” He growled under his breath, his back arched and his palms pressed against the table.

“Sure I do, baby.” She responded, growling in the same exact intensity.

However she held a light smirk, ripping off her restraints that she spent the last hours  loosing up, grunted as she both hands grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the table.

She held out a breath, snatching the needle from his grasp and stabbing him with it. Grant broke free from her grasp just as quickly, as Amelia stumbled backwards. He launched at her as she jumped over the table and kicked him the chest. 

Before they two knew it, they were dancing around, blocking and trying to punch one another into corners. Spinning, turning and trying to slam the other into a wall. Grunts, pounding from footsteps against the ground, shouts and screaming were heard from within the warehouse, as they broke though the walls and into the hallways.

--------------------------

At one point, Amelia raised her height was going to cause her a real disadvantage, Grant was taller than her by a lot. So just as he was about to launch at her once again, she reached up to a poll, grasping a tight grip before swinging her legs forwards launching Grant to break though the window of the door. 

“I taught you well..” He muttered, a hint of pride in his voice, before grabbing her and swinging the brunette around as they head butted one another hitting against the tight narrow hallway.

Amelia head was slammed backwards, pounding firm near a wall, before her body slid downwards onto the floor as she grunted and let out a groaned. Grant towered over her just as Kara hurried in, holding her gun towards Amelia.

She was ready to shoot her, but didn’t, yet. She wanted to hear the apology, understand her pain. She exchanged a look with Ward.

“Anything you want to say to Kara?” Grant asked, letting out a deep breath.

Amelia’s eyes darted between the door of them, her vision was blurry as she said, “..yeah.”

“She’s waiting.”

“I’m not sorry anymore..” Amelia muttered under her breath. 

Kara exhaled, lowering the gun, “This isn’t right..I’m not feeling, she’s not sorry..”

Grant took the gun from her stuffing it into his back pocket and placed a hand on her shoulder, “It’s alright, baby, I know what to do..”

Her gaze flickered between the pair, one look from Grant and Amelia knew what was coming for her, he going to pull the trigger. The hours were running up. 

He’ll do the one thing she seen him do, only once, years ago. 

It will not just make her suffer but the ones who claimed to love her...

~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

AHH! It was a lot I know but let me know what you think! Thoughts, comments and what you love about it all. Pls like, comment and share for more.

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @djs8891 @starkleila @aidanxsophxoxo @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @rickb-chaos @topgun-imagines s @hardballoonlove @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @ximehs @savemewattpad @theonlyblackcanary y @terry-perry @triptuckers @daughter-of-melpomene @superspookyjanelle @infinetlyforgotten and etc

[nino-rox]

SHADOWS OF BETRAYAL

PART 1

Grant Ward x Male Reader

Show SPOILER ALERT ! Do not read further if you wish to watch the show

Content Warnings : Angst, Agents of Shield AU, Male OC, Betrayal. {Context: After the Shield collapse (Team Coulson including Y/N ( Your/Name) is at secret base Providence), when Skye finds out about Ward)}

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

Author’s Note: Please keep in mind that watching “Marvel’s Agents of Shield” is important to understand the plot of this story - Contains Spoilers.

In the dimly lit and eerily quiet Providence base, suspicion saturated the air, casting a shadow over every corner. Grant Ward, once a trusted agent, now sat on the edge of a worn-out couch, his rugged features marred by a mix of angst and determination. Y/N, a formidable agent in his own right, observed Grant with a keen eye, his mind racing with doubts and unspoken truths. The weight of his relationship pressed against Y/N's every thought, the delicate balance between love and betrayal hanging in the balance.

Providence, a top-secret base that had become a refuge for Coulson's team after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D., was eerily empty. It was just Y/N, Grant, and Daisy, who had stumbled upon the evidence that shattered Y/N's trust in Grant. In the bathroom, Y/N had discovered Daisy's damning message scrawled on the wall, revealing Grant's allegiance to Hydra and his role in the murder of agent Koenig.

The Day turned into a sleepless night as Y/N meticulously gathered evidence, piecing together the fragments of Grant's secret life. His conversations grew strained, laced with unspoken accusations. Grant, sensing the weight of his knowledge, made no attempt to deny his actions. Instead, a storm brewed within him, a potent mix of fear and determination. One pivotal moment, amidst the hallowed silence of the empty Providence base, Y/N intercepted Grant's path. His eyes locked, and the charged atmosphere crackled with unspoken words. Y/N's voice quivered, his resolve mingling with a tinge of vulnerability.

"Grant," Y/N's voice held a mix of strength and uncertainty. "I can't let you go."

Grant's features contorted with a mixture of resignation and trepidation. He knew the consequences of his actions and the revelation that awaited him. With a deep breath, he met Y/N's gaze, acknowledging the intelligence and perceptiveness that lay behind his eyes.

Their confrontation escalated swiftly, the years of shared intimacy and trust now fueling the violence that erupted between them. Grant, aware of Y/N's lethal skills, recognized that he was as competent and cunning as the renowned “Cavalry” (Melinda May) herself. Every move was calculated, each strike intended to incapacitate without causing lethal harm.

But in the midst of the fight, as Y/N's love for Grant battled with his duty, a fatal misstep occurred. A swift motion, a flicker of hesitation, and Y/N found himself on the receiving end of Grant's blade. Pain seared through his body, shock registering in his eyes.

The realization of what had transpired washed over Grant, his panicked gaze locking with Y/N's. Fear mingled with regret, as he never intended for things to reach such a devastating climax. But his desperation to pursue Daisy and secure the hard drive had clouded his judgment, leading to irreversible consequences.

As the agony coursed through his veins, his love for Grant remained steadfast. It was the love that had held them together, and it was the love that pushed him to fight for the truth. With his remaining strength, he locked eyes with Grant, the unspoken words of forgiveness and understanding passing between them, eyes laced with a glint of hatred for their predicament. Their world, once filled with promises and shared dreams, crumbled in that moment. Grant's conflicted emotions mirrored his own as he cradled him in his arms, their intertwined destinies entangled in a web of pain and remorse.

As the darkness closed in, Y/N's consciousness faded, slipping away, leaving behind a shattered bond and the weight of a choice that Grant would carry for the rest of his days.

[thewritingofamadwoman]

Hate To Watch You Go, But Love To Watch You Leave

A/N: Brett Dalton has my heart and watching him be all flirty and give heart eyes to the stunning Gabi Mosley in NBC’s show Found has me giggling like a school girl. Thought I’d toss in my two cents with an OC included in the fun of Episode 4.

Let me know what you think! 🤗

Pairing: Mark Trent x reader (no descriptions used but feminine pronouns are used by other characters when describing the reader).

Warnings: fluff! And a bit of harmless flirting.

I stepped out of my house and turned back to lock the front door. As I was done securing it, the car waiting for me by the curb honked loudly. I offered a middle finger behind me before walking down towards the car and smiling at the driver. Dhan smirked at me and rolled his eyes as I opened the passenger door and sat myself down.

“Was the beeping necessary?” I asked, buckling myself in as Dhan took off.

“Absolutely, annoying is my favorite past time. Was flipping me off necessary?” he said with a deadpan expression, his voice mocking mine. I scoffed at him but smiled nonetheless. Dhan and I were always like this, teasing and annoying each other to the point where people naturally assumed we were siblings. Truth is, Dhan was my best friend. Ever since we started working at Mosley & Associates, Dhan and I were inseparable. I turned back to look at him as we drove to our destination.

“Thank you for picking me up, the mechanic swears that my car should be ready by Monday at the lastest,” I smiled sweetly at Dhan as he rolled his eyes playfully once more.

“You sure it isn’t because you want a guaranteed designated driver so you can get smashed?”

I laughed, shrugging.

“I mean, I was being genuine but be careful cause I might just take you up on that. You ready for another rousing team bonding night?” I teased, knowing that he would rather be doing anything else than playing silly board games at Zeke’s house.

The whole team bonding experience was curated by Lacey, who truly was a sweetheart, and wanted everyone to come together and celebrate a night without any cases to solve. A night where we could let loose and just enjoy each others company. I thought it was a genius idea; things often got too dark in our line of work and a night of inebriated fun sounded like heaven. Every 3rd Friday night of the month, we would all meet up at Zeke’s house for booze, food, board games, charades and even karaoke.

Dhan huffed out a laugh, turning onto Zeke’s block.

“Whatever you say, Short Stop.”

I gave him another middle finger while we searched for parking. We finally found a great spot down the block and walked up to Zeke’s side door. It seemed that the door already ajar with laughter and music seeping through. Lacey was the first to spot us and ran over to me with two beers in hand.

“Yessss the team is all here! Just one more person to go and then we can get this shit started. I’ve only had one drink and I need to rectify that ASAP.”

I laughed while Dhan took his first swig, thanking Lacey for the drink. I went around giving everyone while asking Lacey what she meant.

“One more person? Who else is coming?”

I plopped down on the couch as Lacey answered, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Oh you know, just Trent.”

The look she was giving me screamed “the cat caught the canary” and I could only smile. Lacey has been doing her absolute BEST to try and get Mark Trent and I together for the majority of this past year. Little did she know, he and I were already in a secret little situation-ship of our own. We had been keeping it quiet, not wanting to let anyone into our own bubble for as long as we could help it.

I kept a neutral face and smiled back at Lacey, ignoring her suggestive glances.

“Oh is he? That’s great, it’ll be an amazing ego boost for me when I kick ALL of your asses at Catan.”

Lacey gave an annoyed huff and I took a generous swig of my beer. Dhan groaned out loud and I looked back at him.

“Why the fuck does the cop have to be here? He’s pompous as shit.”

I laughed loudly and Gabi chuckled from across the room. Dhan hasn’t been Trent’s biggest fan for quite some time now, but his dislike only seemed to intensify over the past few months when Trent and I got together. Of course he didn’t know we had gotten together, but it just seemed that Dhan’s brotherly figure senses kicked in magically and he felt the need to always make a snarky comment about Trent.

“Remind me again why you don’t like him?” Margaret asked from her spot by the fridge.

“He’s annoying as fuck and I don’t know if anyone else can see it, but he just eye fucks Short Stop over here any chance he gets. It’s kind of disgusting.”

I almost spit my drink out and snorted out a laugh while Lacey rebutted before I could speak.

“Disgusting? I think it’s hot, he clearly has a crush on our girl here. And he’s such a nice guy, always helping us out,” she smiled at me again, winking as if that was the selling point that would make me finally jump into Trent’s arms.

“I can’t help it if he stares, have you seen me? Fucking gorgeous!” I teased, standing up and giving a little shimmy while I walked to the kitchen to grab the bowl full of chips.

The sound of Zeke’s door opening caught my attention and I looked up, crunching on a chip as I did so. Mark Trent popped his head in and smiled, holding up a two cases of beer as he walked in.

“Hey guys,” he smiled in greeting, nodding at everyone. He hugged Gabi on the way to the kitchen counter to place beer cases down. I smiled at him, and he walked around the counter to say hello with a hug. I took in a breath after wrapping my arms around him, inhaling his cologne and smiling to myself. He gave me a gentle squeeze before pulling back.

“Hi,” I said sweetly as he smiled back.

“Hey you,” he said before addressing the rest of the team.

“I caught the tale end of whatever conversation was going on here before I walked in. Who’s gorgeous?”

Before I could reply, Lacey spoke up. I could see Dhan rolling his eyes and turning around to tune out the conversation.

“Our girl! I mean look at her, isn’t she just stunning, Trent?”

I blushed and threw a chip at Lacey as she pointed at me, and Zeke’s chuckled loudly at her ridiculous attempt at playing matchmaker. Trent looked back at me, a twinkle in his eye as he smirked and gave me a quick once over.

“Yeah, she’s alright.”

I let out a incredulous laugh and slapped Trent’s shoulder. “Dick,” I laughed again and moved away from him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back, laughing as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me in close.

“I’m just kidding, you’re beautiful.”

I beamed under his praise, his voice melting my heart. I stared up at him, loving how his brown eyes shined with mirth as he stared right into my own. We smiled at each other, forgetting where we were for a split second before a loud cough from Dhan’s brought us back to reality.

“Anyyyyy way, who’s ready to play! Guys verse girls, let’s go ladies!”

Lacey dragged me and Gabi towards the couches to get settled. I was laughing before my eyes connected with Gabi, who had a smirk on her lips. She quirked her eyebrow at me as if she knew something. I gave her an innocent smile and ignored her stare as we began to play.

Hours went by and we were having the best night. We were all slightly buzzed and finally relaxed. I had gotten up at some point to use the bathroom and retuned back to find that the only seat free was by Trent. The rest of the gang was busy watching Zeke and Margaret battle each other in Mario Kart on one of the giant flat screens. I plopped down next to Trent and smiled at him. The feeling of his thigh pressed against mine and his arm tossed nonchalantly over the couch behind me warmed my heart again. I suppressed a shivered, loving the idea of being close to him physically while everyone else was none the wiser. Almost as if he had read my thoughts, Trent leaned down to speak to me.

“Hey,” he whispered, eyes full of happiness.

“Hi,” I whispered back. “Having fun?”

Trent shrugged and nodded, looking back at the team as they all cheered Margaret on.

“Yeah, it’s fun. Everyone’s nice, even Dhan mellowed out after giving me dirty looks all night. What the hell is that about?”

I giggled and looked back to see Dhan place his hands on Zeke’s shoulders, shouting at him to speed up.

“Yeah, apparently he doesn’t like the way you “eye fuck” me,” I said nonchalantly but gave him a teasing look. I leaned in a little closer, the alcohol in my system making me braver in this current setting. “Is that what you do, Trent? You like eye fucking me?” I said sultrily, looking at him with a small smile on my face.

Trent’s eyes tracked from my lips back to my eyes and he gave me a playful smirk, leaning closer to me as well. The arm that was behind me on the couch moved closer, Trent’s fingers playing gently with the bottom of my ponytail.

“Okay, so what if I do like eye fucking you. You have a problem with that?” He said, licking his lips and giving me a smile that made my knees weak. I giggled and looked back behind me to make sure everyone else was still preoccupied with Mario Kart before speaking.

“I don’t have a problem with it. Gonna demonstrate how you do it?” I teased and reached up to fix the collar of his checkered button down. Trent adjusted his position on the couch to face me even more and leaned closer, making my smile wider.

“I could…or I could get you alone and demonstrate a different type of fuc-“ He was cut off by the loud sound of Margaret, Gabi and Lacey cheering while Dhan and Zeke groaned. Trent and I straightened out, both of us with stupid smiles on our faces. I got up to go join the girls, but before I did, I leaned back to whisper in Trent’s ear.

“Maybe you can show me that demonstration you were talking about later at your place…” I winked at him and walked away, swaying my hips just as tad more than usual before leaning my chin on Lacey’s shoulder. In that moment, I knew that Trent probably hated to see me go, but I know damn well that he loved to watch me leave.

*gif not mine*

[buckyseddie]

traps and angry confessions

pairings — grant ward x fem!coulson!daughter!reader, featuring, bff!skye x bff!fem!coulson!daughter!reader, and bff!jemma simmons x bff!fem!coulson!daughter!reader

summary — in which, she’s avoiding her feelings and ward all together and their friends take the two agents’ fate into their own hands and decide to trap them in coulson’s office, forcing them to face their unresolved issues.

word count — 6.1k.

warnings — flashbacks, soft!ward, use of pet-names [princess], HELLA angst, fluff, mentions of both reader’s and ward’s separate traumas and past, first meeting in italics and so is the team talking about her behavior, both reader and ward get very heated and angry at each other near the end, SEXUAL TENSION, passionate (HEATED) kisses.

notes — hi! i’ve noticed that there aren’t a whole lot of fics for ward. so, i’ve decided to write my own (since not a lot of the ones i’ve already read/seen have really interested me). anyways, i’ve just started aos (finally! although, i’ve been wanting to start the show for awhile for fitzsimmons and skyeward.) and i just started s3 and i absolutely adore ward! i know a lot of the things he’s done and that he’s hydra (mostly, from spoilers because it’s marvel and we ALL know how obsessed i am with that universe, etc.), but i still love him (and i’m lowkey simping for him!). i truly can’t wait to see more of his character as i finish the show. anyways, i hope to make more fics about him and the same with general kirigan, since i’ve just started (and finished) shadow and bone, and i usually like to write fics for characters for ALL shows i begin and finish (if i end up liking them). also, please forgive me if i get any of the surroundings’ details wrong. after all, i just started the show! gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

main masterlist

THE MOMENT HE GIVES UP on knocking on her door and the sound of his footsteps finally fade away, [y/n] heaves in a deep sigh of relief. finally. 

after yet another one of her decisions to avoid him, ward instantly noticed the distance she had put in between the two of them and kept trying to approach her every time she walked into the same room as him. 

honestly, it was not easy avoiding him — when they’re literally colleagues and on the same team, it’s kind of hard to stop going to the places she normally would.

and it truly hurt him when it had crossed his mind that she may have decided that she doesn’t want to be around him. i mean, we all know that — as much as he tries to hide it and act all tough — he’s really just a big old teddy bear with so many sensitive emotions that he tries to hide.

and it didn’t just hurt him to come to this realization; when [y/n] had first realized she was failing to keep her feelings hidden and in check, it broke her to even think about ignoring him.

she may have feelings for him, but he has always been one of her friends, not just a teammate. thus, why she felt like she had to keep her feelings completely hidden and buried.

and the second she began to avoid him? she felt immense guilt and regret for hurting him — that had never been her intention. she wants him to be happy and she hates that she’s causing him pain like that. but, she doesn’t really have a choice. at least, in her head, she doesn’t.

because there’s something else that she fears way more than hurting him; ward finding out the truth.

she’d rather die than admit the truth and ruin what they have. because... surely, he could never love her, right?

after ward had found out about [y/n]’s distant behavior, it wasn’t very long before skye had found out about it, too.

the rest of the team found out about it soon after skye — [y/n] hadn’t been very discreet about her most recent behavior and actions.

skye, being the nosy and clever one of the team, was able to find out before fitz and simmons — although, they’re geniuses and all, they’re only able to figure things out fast enough when on missions.

but, in real life? it took the brilliant geniuses awhile to figure out what ward and skye had first noticed right away.

and coulson and may? coulson may have spent most of the time worrying over his only daughter, but he had his own problems to focus on. and may was too busy brooding and training to notice her friend’s — or rather, teammate’s — weird behavior.

but, one day, while most of the team was relaxing about in the lounge — for once, considering that most of the time, they’d be out on a mission — skye blurts it out

she’d been overwhelmed by the bizarre behavior from her friend for the past week. 

and not only did she have a reason to be worried, but it was in her kind nature to be concerned for [y/n].

with a trembling sigh, [y/n] nervously ignores the lingering gazes of some of her teammates — and the burning one of ward’s — as she stumbles over to a cupboard to grab a glass to fill with water.

as he continues to watch her do something as simple as getting water, a cloud of darkness overwhelms him deep in his gut — her ignoring his existence was really getting to him, more than he’d like to care to admit.

after noticing ward’s broken expression, fitz stops talking and moves forward to place a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“mate, you alright?” he questions, still clueless of what’s going on between two of his closest friends, but still noticing the hurt that ward’s clearly trying to hide. 

usually, ward’s very good at compartmentalizing his emotions.

but, when it comes to [y/n]? it’s very easy for him to forget that he even needs to act a certain way, in order to hide his true feelings — he doesn’t need to necessarily hide his feelings, but with the trauma he endured as a child, and how he went through his childhood, he’s always felt like opening up was something he just couldn’t do.

realizing where he is and who he’s surrounded by, ward shakes himself out his daze. “i’m fine, fitz.” he mutters, not bothering to even look at him. 

the rest of the team’s eyes follow the upset and poor-looking woman’s figure as she hurriedly makes her way back to her room. 

sighing, jemma grows quickly frustrated. “does anyone know what’s going on with her? fitz and i have been trying to figure it out, but it’s been unsuccessful. she’s bloody good at not giving out any clues.” she questions, turning to ward, raising a brow at him in question.

“you guys, seriously haven’t figured it out yet?” skye bursts out incredulously, causing a more-brooding-than-usual ward to look up at her confusedly.

fitz and simmons turn to her, sputtering. 

“how would you know what’s going on with her?” ward questions in a suspicious tone of voice, brows knitted together. 

“did she tell you?” he asks again, trying to figure out how she could know that [y/n] is ignoring him. 

everyone stares at her expectantly as she opens her mouth to respond, but closes it again and repeats the action like a fish under water.

“well?” he questions once more, raising a brow at her, causing her to groan in defeat. 

“fine! no, she hasn’t told me. you all should know that; she doesn’t like opening up. she thinks it’s weak to be vulnerable. but, i have noticed that she rarely talks about herself anymore and spends most of her time in her room when there’s not a mission she needs to be on.” she states, catching may’s and coulson's attention. 

“and have any of you noticed how she’s never in the same room with ward anymore? or how she will race out of a room if he’s there? she’s clearly ignoring him for some reason.” she explains in a obviously-tone. 

ward deflates at skye’s confirmation. 

he was really hoping to get some answers. too bad he was unsuccessful.

after skye’s outburst about the truth behind the reason why [y/n]’s acting differently, ward forced himself to snap out of his self-pity and tried harder to talk to [y/n], even if it was damn near impossible.

and while ward kept trying — and failing — to get to the bottom of what was going on with his friend, the team, including coulson, began more aware of [y/n] and her behavior. 

and skye? well, she set out to speak to her friend. 

a knock sounds at [y/n]’s wooden door, startling her and snapping her out of her anxious thoughts about the current situation with ward.

“yeah?” she hesitantly calls out, moving away from the door and smoothing down her hair as she hopes to god that it isn’t ward back to try to talk to her some more. 

“hey, it’s skye. can i come in?” the calming voice of her best friend slowly eases her nerves.

“y—yeah.” [y/n] answers uneasily.

as skye opens the door and enters, quickly shutting it behind her, [y/n] shakily crosses her arms over her chest. 

“hey. how are you doing?” skye gently asks, moving to sit down on her friends bed. 

[y/n]’s brows furrow in confusion. “i—i’m fine.” she stutters, staying frozen in place. 

“can i ask you a question, [y/n/n]?” skye asks softly, trying to show her friend that she’s on her side. 

“sure, yeah. what’s up?” [y/n] nods, finally moving to sit beside her on the bed.

“you’re avoiding ward. is it because of your feelings for him?” she questions, raising her brows at her. 

[y/n] swears her blood runs cold, heart stopping. “w—what?”

“you heard right. [y/n], i’m not going to tell anyone, i promise. but, seriously, i see the way that you look at him.” she states seriously, not ready to let go of her question. 

“w—what makes you think that? how would you know?” [y/n] questions, quickly realizing that it’s too late to lie — skye would see right through her. 

“c’mon. you look at him like he’s your whole entire world. but, there’s also a nervousness and hesitance there, too. you’re scared that you’re going to do or say the wrong thing, right?” skye explains further more. 

“i—i don’t—” [y/n] stutters, not quite fully understanding how she found out. 

“—don’t beat yourself up over it. it’s not like it’s obvious to anyone else. not even ward knows that it’s because of your feelings. i think he just thinks that he did something wrong.” skye states gently, trying not to overwhelm her friend with the information as she places a comforting hand on [y/n]’s shoulder.

“w—what? he thinks he did something wrong?” she questions, heart stopping once again. 

skye nods. 

“how could he think that? he hasn’t done anything wrong and it’s nearly impossible for him to!” [y/n] exclaims to herself in shock.

“it’s not your fault that he’s clueless.” skye says, giggling, obviously choosing now to crack a joke. 

a trembling sigh leaves [y/n], not even hearing her friend’s joking statement — she’s too focused on her emotions that seem to be heightening by every passing second, after hearing this new information.

she didn't want to hurt him. but, now that she knows that it’s more than just pain he’s feeling — that he thinks he did something wrong — the guilt and regret quickly intensifies. 

tears begin to cloud her [y/e/c] eyes as [y/n] begins to think about their first time meeting, and how she’d do just about anything to go back to that. 

a groan leaves the young woman’s throat, rolling her eyes at the worried voice of her father’s on the other side of the phone call as she makes her way to the back of her parked car.

“dad, seriously! i’m going to be fine, alright? i have the training down. and besides! when i’m not out in the field, i’ll be behind a computer and helping out the two other brilliant geniuses you’ve added onto the team and acting as a guide for anyone out on mission.” [y/n] states in a matter-of-factly tone of voice, popping the trunk with her keys and making sure to grab the bags she needs. 

“i know that, honey. as much as you’re trained and know exactly what you’re doing, you’re still my daughter — i’m going to worry as much as i want to.” he replies seriously as [y/n] begins to sense the lecturing-like tone of his voice.

“okay, dad. i get that. but, you’re going to be there with me most of the time. so, you can worry about me then. i just need you to trust me, alright?” [y/n] sighs, hoping that agreeing with him will make the worried phone call end faster.

especially, when she and him can easily talk inside what he prefers to call ‘the bus’. 

a sigh is heard on his side of the call. 

“okay, look. dad, i’m already here and i need to bring in my things. so, i’ll talk to you when i get inside, alright?” [y/n] questions, still balancing her phone in between her shoulder and ear as she tries — and fails — to grab some of her things.

then finally, she’s able to grab each bag and her suitcase, and places them all on the ground, before shutting her trunk gently.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you inside.” he sighs again as [y/n] smiles in victory at getting everything out without any clumsy acts of hers. 

she snaps herself out of her little victory-daze. “okay, dad. bye. i love you.” she murmurs and then is quickly taking the phone away from her ear to end the call. 

with a sigh, a small excited smile twitches on her lips as she tucks her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

excitement begins to consume her at the thought of doing something that could help people — it’s everything that she’s ever wanted.

the small smile quickly turns into a frown, anxiety easily forming deep in her gut as she senses the nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifying. what if the team doesn't like her? what if she messes up and disappoints her father? what if she ends up getting someone innocent killed?

more anxious thoughts swirl around in her head, causing her to take a few calming deep breaths as she places a hand on the edge of the trunk, leaning forward. 

“okay, [y/n]. just breathe. you’re going to be fine. don’t freak out just yet. you can do this.” after stating this to herself, she gets a few judgmental stares.

ignoring the sudden temptation to flee the area — the best that she can — [y/n] takes a deep breath and goes to grab her duffle bags, placing them wherever she can; her shoulders, her hands, her arms.

the heavy weight of the bags on her body weighs her down a bit as she goes to grab her suitcase. 

as she starts to turn around, dragging her suitcase with her and holding the handle by her hand, she only focuses on her bags and suitcase.

now, considering the area of the globemaster that she’s on, is almost completely filled with agents roaming around hurriedly, it may not have been the best idea for her to not be watching where she’s going. but, she continues to do it anyways. 

and if agent ward himself hadn’t been one of those agents walking in her general direction, maybe it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. but, he is.

and being the brooding and closed-off man that he is, he snaps at her when she accidentally runs straight into him. “mind watching where you’re going?”

“oh god! i—i am so sorry. gosh, i was really hoping to avoid being clumsy, but it seems that’s impossible.” she stutters out an apology, not even realizing the harshness of his tone as she instantly moves to bend down to grab the duffel bags that fell to the ground when she’d ran into him.

thank god she hasn’t really gotten a good look at the agent yet. because if she did, she’d be stumbling over her words more than she already is.

ward bends down to grumpily hand her some of her bags as she continues to grab the rest of her bags and her suitcase. “again, i’m, uh, i’m really sorry about that. i really don’t understand how i’m the daughter of a shield agent, yet have the klutz gene.” she stutters once more, nervous giggles leaving her lips as she looks up.

and when she does, her heart nearly stops. 

her throat goes dry and her heart starts to beat faster than ever, in the sense of her being nervous. even her hands start to get clammy with sweat.

all because of the extremely attractive man standing in front of her. 

agent ward stands in front of her, eyebrows raised and arms crossed on his chest, waiting for her next nervous response.

“w—wow...” she trails off, not even realizing she’s not being too discreet on checking him out from head to toe. 

he clears his throat, snapping her out of her very aware daze.

shaking her head, she nervously runs her fingers through her hair, anxiously beginning to fidget.

“uh, sorry. i—i’m [y/n].” she stutters once more as she lifts a hand up in the air to shake his, only for him to stare at it warily. 

without another response, he turns around and walks back inside.

“o—okay then?” [y/n] mumbles to herself in question form, confused. what is his problem?

a nervous laugh comes from behind her, causing her to turn around.

“sorry about him. agent ward usually keeps to himself — he’s pretty closed-off and rarely relaxes. but, he’ll eventually warm up to you.” jemma simmons states with her accent, giving [y/n] an easy-going smile as she goes to reach for two of her duffel bags that are hanging back on her arms. 

she glances back down, quickly realizing what she’s trying to do. “oh, thank you.” she says, letting jemma take the two bags by their straps.

“really, it’s no trouble. what’s your name? i’m jemma simmons.” she introduces herself as they walk further inside, [y/n] making sure to watch where she’s going this time.

“well, at least someone’s welcoming,” she mumbles, feeling a bit more hurt about ward’s harsh attitude towards her than she’d like. “uh, i’m [y/n], coulson — coulson's daughter. i’m supposed to have multiple different jobs here; i’ll either be in the field, helping you and leopold fitz, or helping guide anyone on missions through the comms.” [y/n] explains as jemma leads her to her assigned room.

after she puts her bags on her bed, she turns to her new friend, listening intently to what she’s saying. 

“so, coulson — your father — i guess, wants us all to meet in the lounge as soon as we’ve been inside.” she explains, leaning against the doorframe.

“oh, okay. let’s go now, then.” [y/n] nods, letting jemma lead her to where the lounge is. 

“oh, and jemma?” she asks, causing the young genius to turn to her in question. “yes?”

“i know i’m his daughter, and all. but, i don’t want anyone to treat me differently because of it, so you can just call him coulson around me — i really don’t want any special treatment.” she states just as they appear outside the lounge. 

jemma nods in agreement. “of course.”

as [y/n] looks around, jemma motions her boyfriend over to them. 

“fitz, this is [y/n], coulson's—” she starts, but quickly catches herself, “—this is [y/n]. coulson's newest additional agent to the team. and [y/n], this is fitz, my brilliant genius of a boyfriend.” she brags in a prideful tone, succeeding in changing the subject from the fact that she almost slipped-up.

ward’s attention becomes drawn to the three people, wondering what jemma was about to say about coulson.

he catches the nervous glance of [y/n] as she nervously shakes fitz’s out-stretched hand. 

“hi. it’s nice to meet you, [y/n]. welcome to the team!” fitz excitedly says, before coulson himself clears his throat, interrupting the little introduction. 

he motions for her to stand beside him in the middle of the room. 

“so, as some of you know, this is my daughter, [y/n].” he starts off as she moves to stand beside him.

she winces as a gasp is sounded nearby, which is obviously fitz. 

she sighs, accepting defeat and accepting the fact that she’ll now be treated different because of this fact being revealed as she dips her head down in embarrassment.

“she’s going to be joining us. she’s got the training, but she won’t always be out in the field — other times, she’ll be helping fitz and simmons out, or will be guiding any of you on missions through the comms.” coulson finishes saying, not noticing the change in his daughter.

daring to look up, she notices the reactions of her new teammates.

ward looks shocked, although he’s trying to seem uninterested.

may wears a — somewhat — surprised look with a raised brow, obviously not that interested in making a big deal out of it.

jemma is wearing a frown, knowing why [y/n] didn’t want to make a big deal out of her being the daughter of coulson.

skye looks surprised, but gives [y/n] a gentle smile, after noticing the anxious expression on her face.

and fitz is only excited at the news. 

“oh, bloody brilliant!” fitz excitedly exclaims, a huge grin placed on his face. 

deeply inhaling in a nervous manner, [y/n] nods. “uh, yes. i’m his daughter. b—but, i don’t want any special treatment, or to be treated differently because of that.” she nervously stutters. 

“yes, of course. leo, sweetheart? you can do that, right? let’s not look at her as just his daughter and only that, yeah?” jemma questions seriously, trying to get his attention. 

after finally noticing the nervous expression on [y/n]’s face, fitz instantly nods, clearing his throat.

“hi, [y/n]. it’s great to meet you. i’m skye.” skye says, stepping forward with a welcoming smile. 

“h—hi. it’s nice to meet you, too.” [y/n] agrees, moving closer to her to shake her hand, feeling a bit more at ease. 

as everyone else starts to lead her to the kitchen and ask her questions, ward, may, and coulson stay put, silently observing her.

ward watches her curiously, almost feeling guilty for being so rude to her.

may watches her with open curiosity.

and coulson watches his daughter with pride over how she handled the situation so greatly.

later that night, [y/n] leaves her door slightly ajar as she makes her bed and moves some of her bags to the floor, just beside her bed. 

an abrupt knock sounds on her doorway, causing her to jump in shock, not having expected the sound. 

she raises her hand over to her heart, which is now beating extremely fast, and sighs in relief when she realizes that it’s just ward at the door.

he watches her in amusement, arms crossed on his chest as he leans against her doorway.

“oh, hey. what’s up, agent ward? do need something?” she questions, quickly becoming a bit nervous because of their first meeting earlier.

he chuckles, shaking his head.

“[y/n], is it?” he asks, raising a brow as she nervously nods. 

“don’t be so formal. you can just call me ward.” he says as she nods, sitting down on her bed.

“so... was there something you needed?” she questions after a few seconds of them just staring at each other in silence. 

he shakes his head, as if he was shaken out of a daze. “right. uh, yeah. i wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier today.” he replies, staying in his spot against the doorway.

“o—oh.” she stutters, brows furrowing as a thought crosses her mind. 

“y—you’re not apologizing just because you found out that i’m coulson's daughter, right?” she questions, hoping he’ll give her the right answer. 

“no, no. of course not. i mean, i’m glad i know who you are. but, i just realized that the way i acted was a bit too harsh.” he explains himself. 

“oh. well, thank you. that means a lot, ward.” she says, no stutters evident in her voice, for the first time all day. 

he nods. 

“goodnight, [y/n].” he says, before turning to leave.

then, he pauses. “oh, and i hope to learn more about you.” he says, turning back to face her, a glimmer of something that she can’t quite understand flickering in his eyes. 

“y—you too.” she stutters out as he finally starts to walk down the hall, a red color filling up to her cheeks.

“[y/n]? are you okay?” skye’s distant voice calls out to her, quickly noticing the faraway look on her friend’s face.

still not getting any response from the lost-in-thought girl, skye shakes her shoulder abruptly.

“huh? what’d you say?” [y/n] mumbles, finally looking over at her, a nervous look in her eyes. 

“i was saying that you should just tell him the truth.” skye repeats her earlier-said statement from when [y/n] was stuck in her thoughts and thinking of the memory of her first day — that day was months and months ago and her and ward had indeed gotten to know each other.

“w—what? why would i do that? that’ll just destroy what we have.” [y/n] sputters, fear practically consuming her. 

“[y/n/n], you know that he’d never let anything mess things up between you and him. i know the story about how you two met — simmons told me. and from the way you’ve bonded? there’s no way he’d let a secret or feelings get in between that.” skye sternly says, trying to convince her friend that admitting the truth won’t be as bad as she thinks. 

“y—you don’t know that!” [y/n] — not being able to help it — incredulously exclaims, abruptly standing up.

“look, maybe i do, maybe i don’t. but, what i do know, is that he’d never hurt you on purpose. and i think that’s what this is really about — you’re scared of getting hurt again. and it’s understandable. but, that’s what falling for somebody requires. love needs sacrifice. and it’s only ever up to you, to give him your heart — to trust him with it. when you love, getting hurt is inevitable. and i can’t force you to tell him. all i’m saying is that you never know whether this opportunity to tell him will be the best choice of your life, or the worst. i just want you to be happy. so, do what your heart truly wants, and i’ll support you, no matter what, okay?” skye states slowly, willing for her statement to sink in.

and it does — it leaves [y/n] almost speechless, so speechless that she becomes completely lost in thought.

and taking her cue, skye decides to leave her friend alone to her thoughts and feelings.

—————

SKYE’S AND [Y/N]’S DEEP CONVERSATION happened three weeks ago.

and every moment in which she saw ward after, was complete torture.

not only was she overwhelmed with guilt and regret over hurting him, but she was also filled with fear of getting her heart broken.

it made her realize that perhaps, skye was right about one thing; [y/n] is scared of getting hurt.

although, she doesn’t talk much about any of her past experiences with relationships — whether that means simply carrying feelings for someone, or dating, or having only platonic relationships — there’s a reason [y/n] rarely talks about herself, or her past.

not even her father knows — she didn’t want to seem weak or vulnerable or not capable of taking care of herself and the team to coulson, or to her teammates.

besides, coulson already worries about her as it is. she didn’t want him to worry any more than he already does. 

but, to her — and skye and jemma — there’s a reason she stopped trusting people so easily.

in every single relationship she’s ever had — except for her father — everyone always hurts her or leaves her.

to understate it, she’s got trust issues and abandonment issues.

and you can’t get hurt if you don’t let anyone in, right?

but, with ward? she unintentionally let down her walls.

she hadn’t even realized that she’d opened up to him and became vulnerable with him, until it was too late.

and honestly? it scared her to no end.

because when all you know is pain, you don’t want to feel it ever again.

and ward is someone that [y/n] will always care about and can never truly have in the way that she wishes. at least, that’s how it is in her head.

after skye helped her realize that the real reason she’d been pushing ward away, was because she was scared to get hurt… well, avoiding him became instantly harder. 

and her becoming much more paranoid and nervous all the time, makes it much more easier for the rest of the team to make a plan that will end the ridiculousness of the situation.

and let me tell you, the conversation between coulson and skye is quite the talk, when he finds out that two of his agents, which consists of his best agent and his only daughter, are harboring intense feelings for each other.

but, nonetheless, after processing what he learns, he eventually agrees that trapping the two heartbroken agents in the same room to talk, is a good call.

after all, if agent ward is the one thing that will make his daughter happy, he can’t exactly object to it. 

after they all finally finish the planning, may — being the best liar of the team — knocks on [y/n]’s door and tells her that she’s needed in her father’s office. 

after hearing the statement, [y/n]’s brows furrow in confusion.

but, nevertheless, she doesn’t think much of it and makes her way towards coulson’s office. 

on the way down the hall, she notices an excited look shared between jemma, fitz, and skye.

she frowns, wondering what the three of them have planned for god knows who.

if only she knew that the excited looks were for her.

sighing, she walks inside her father’s open office, staring down at her feet anxiously.

nervous thoughts swirl around in her head, making her wonder if her father had finally noticed her behavior and was going to lecture her on it. 

but, the sound of the door clicking shut from behind her causes her to snap her head up in the direction of the door. 

“what the hell?” she mutters, racing over to the door, trying to open it, but it’s no use. it’s locked.

after coming to this realization, she groans in defeat, before turning around and leaning against the door.

and when she does, she catches the eyes of the one person she’s been trying to avoid. “w—ward? what—what’re you doing in my father’s office?” she asks in a trembling and wavering voice, swallowing thickly.

“that’s what you have to say? you’ve been ignoring me for weeks. and the first thing you say to me is, why i’m here?”

“wow.” he scoffs, his jaw clenching in frustration. 

“w—what do you want me to say?” she asks quietly, trying to keep herself calm and collected. 

“how about... why you needed to talk to me in coulson’s office? or, better yet, why have you been pushing me away for weeks?” he exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air for emphasis.

[y/n]’s brows furrow in confusion. “ward, what are you even talking about?” she questions, crossing her arms onto her chest. 

he scoffs once more. “are you that desperate to stay away from me that you need to act like you have no idea what i’m talking about?” he exclaims, jaw clenching harder, if that’s even possible. 

“wha—no! grant, i’m not talking about that. i was talking about the other thing; i never asked to speak with you in here. i’m only here because may said my dad had to talk to me in his office.” she states, raising her brows at him in question, trying her best to act like his words aren’t affecting her as much as they are. 

he turns to her, brows knitted together in confusion. “skye said you had to speak to me urgently.” he states, realization now hitting him.

[y/n] groans, tossing her head back in the air. “great. it can’t be a coincidence that two people on the team said to go in here, right after skye talked to me. they obviously tricked us.” she mumbles dejectedly, before she’s sliding down the door, lost in thought. 

for a moment, the two agents just stare at each other emotionally.

ward’s once angry eyes soften as he notices [y/n]’s teary eyes. 

he heaves in a deep breath, hoping he won’t become more frustrated as they talk. 

“why’d you do it?” he asks in a gruff voice. 

“b—because i had to.” she shrugs, not liking that she’s being forced to remember what she did. 

“that’s not good enough. tell me more.” he sternly says. 

she sputters, the annoyance and frustration deep inside her slowly seeping through her. “not good enough? are you fucking kidding me, ward? you have no idea how hard this has been!” she exclaims, having had enough as she stands up, eyes blazing with anger.

it’s rare that she ever let’s her anger control her, but she’s been bottling everything up for weeks. 

his jaw ticks as his mouth shapes into an ‘o’ shape. “oh? then, make me understand, princess.” he tensely states, using the nickname that he knows annoys her, as a dark look crosses his face. 

she groans at the nickname — that’s what he calls her when he’s upset with her.

he calls her it to remind her that she’s coulson's daughter, knowing that she doesn’t want special treatment.

“how could you possibly understand? besides, the second i tell you, you’re going to hate me!” she exclaims, ignoring the insulting nickname as she throws her hands up in the air frustratedly. 

“try me.” he insists, the dark look still placed on his face. 

slowly, the tension and anger and built-up emotions between them grows and grows by every passing second. 

and then, it’s like it all pops — exploding — and [y/n]’s control over her anger and hesitance to keep quiet is quickly forgotten. 

“alright, ward. you wanna know what’s going on?” she asks annoyedly, tone almost dangerously calm as he slowly nods, jaw still clenched as he takes notice of her anger.

“i've been, what you call, ‘pushing you away’, to protect you. you see, i haven’t opened up, or been vulnerable with anyone in a long time! you know why? because everyone either hurts or leaves me! i haven’t trusted anyone or opened myself up in a long fucking time. and then, you,” she angrily says, walking over to him and poking his chest to annunciate the word ‘you’, “you fucking walked into my fucking life. and for the first time in forever, i didn’t even question it as i just let you in — i let my walls down, i trusted you, and i let myself get attached!” she continues on, getting more angry and emotional by every second as he simply listens, trying to ignore his own anger that’s starting to build up deep inside him.

then, the tears start to cloud her vision, making everything blurry.

but, she doesn't let it stop her and she doesn’t let them escape. 

“and you know what i got? i got falling for you. i got the realization that these little secret feelings that i've been harboring for you for months could destroy us. i got my heart broken over the guilt and regret and fear of getting hurt. i got my best friend telling me that i’m scared of you hurting me, and telling me that you thought you did something wrong! i got her telling me that i’m hurting you. and i got her telling me that i need to tell you how i feel, or i’ll lose you forever!” she yells this time, almost completely falling apart as shock overtakes ward.

“don’t fucking tell me that after this, we’ll be fine. because we won’t! you don’t feel the same, and i have to live with it.” she continues, practically shaking at this point.

“so, ward. you wanna know what you did wrong? the truth is, you did nothing wrong. you’re fucking perfect. because it wasn’t you, who did something wrong. it was me. and you wanna know what i did wrong?” she questions, her voice breaking. 

he’s silent now, tears of his own surfacing.

“i let you in — i fell for you! and it’s my fault!” she exclaims, now hitting her fists onto his chest, tears and sobs leaving her. 

not being able to completely get a grasp onto what she’s confessed, he lets her use him as a punching bag. 

“so, ward. tell me, is everything going to be fine?” she spits out, continuing to smack his chest angrily. 

and then, it’s as if he snaps out of his shocked daze and the anger is tumbling out. 

“yes. it is.” he mutters.

he easily grabs onto her wrists, stopping the constant angry hits from her. 

she gasps. “ward, what—” she whispers, still emotional, as he drops her hands to fall to her sides and grips the back of her head.

then, he heatedly pulls her to him, instantly closing the distance between them as he smashes his lips to hers.

a strangled noise of shock leaves her, but she doesn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

the kiss is full of angst, anger, and love, all combined. 

his tongue enters her mouth and the kiss becomes much more heated as she moves her hands up to his hair.

she tugs on it, bringing a groan to leave ward’s lips.

and then, they’re pulling away for air. 

“w—wow.” [y/n] stutters, gasping for air. 

he nods, thinking the exact same thing as he gently caresses her cheek, most of his frustration gone. 

“i thought you didn’t feel the same. but, i guess that kiss is my answer then, huh?” she mumbles, blushing as he chuckles.

“i can give you that answer again, if you want?” he offers with a smirk.

“yeah. yeah, i’d like that very much.” she says, giggling as he closes the distance between them again, this time being a lot more gentler.

and… let’s just say things got a lot better for them after that.

[justauthoring]

Trapped In Sanatorium [M.M.]

Request: Can you do a mike x reader from until dawn where he finds the reader trapped in the sanatorium and she’s injured and he helps her

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Word Count: 750

Blinking, you groan. My head... 

As your vision clears, you realize that you’re in some kind of room. It’s dark. but not too dark that you can’t see. You’re on concrete and the ceiling above you is also concrete, both equally dirty and covered in dust. Where are you?

Or more importantly, how had you ended up here?

Moving to set up, you ignore the pounding in your head, pressing your hand against your forehead. You try to think back to what you last remember. You’d made it to the cabin with the rest, Mike and Jessica had gone off on their own and then Matt and Emily had also left... Then you’d gone for a short walk, just a short walk.

It was blank after that. You faintly remembered running, something chasing you but you don’t remember what. It wasn’t human. You know that.

And now you were here, with a pounding headache, your shirt ripped and you’re pretty sure there was blood dripping from your forehead. God, how had things turned so fucked up?

Rubbing at your eyes, you move to stand up, placing hand on either side of you. But, as you do so, a sharp pain shoots through your leg and you fall back to the ground with a cry. “Jesus!” Slumping against the wall like before, you lower your gaze to your leg, pulling back the ripped flap of your legs to reveal a nasty scar across your calve and a swollen ankle. You must of sprained it.

Perfect.

Well, now what?

You don’t have much time to think of answer for your own question before you hear distant footsteps. You freeze, breath halting as you feel all your muscles tighten up. What if what that... that thing? Oh, God, please don’t be that thing.

For what feels like forever but can’t be more than a few minutes, you simply sit there, listening to the... whatever it is, footsteps echo around behind you. And then, you hear a voice, it’s faint. But it’s definitely human. You shift closer to the edge of the wall you’re both leaning against and hiding behind, trying to decipher the voice. If it’s one you know or someone you can trust.

“Jesus, what is this place?”

Wait. You know that voice.

“Mike?” Pulling your body around the wall, you finally lay eyes on the owner of the footsteps, sure enough finding Mike stood just a little bit ahead of you. “Is that you?” He turns sharply at your voice, obviously not having realized it was you at first given the fear in his gaze, before it settles on your own and is replaced with worry. 

“Y/N?” He calls, rushing towards you. He stops, crouching down to meet your gaze steadily before his eyes wander across the rest of your body. “Jesus fuck, what happened to you. How did you get here?”

“I... I don’t know...”

“You don’t remember?’

“I left the others just to go for a walk,” you begin, voice shaky. You reach forward without thinking, hands falling on Mike, desperate for some sort of comfort. “Just a walk and then there was something chasing me. I ran, but it was fast and I...I think it got me. It scratched me on my leg,” you pull back your leggings once more, showing Mike the nasty scar. “And then I think I got away, kept running without knowing where I was going... I must of ended up here.”

Mike nods, glancing at your scratch briefly before you pull his attention back on you. 

“Mike...”

‘Yeah?”

“The thing,” you begin, voice shaky. “The thing chasing me. It... It wasn’t human.”

Mike doesn’t seem as surprised as you expect him to be. He doesn’t even seem to doubt your words. For a fraction of a second his eyes widen and then he sighs, shoulders falling. “We’ve got to get you out of here. Get back to the others.”

“Wait, what aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ll explain on the way, okay?” Mike says, meeting your gaze, holding his hand out towards you. “But we have to go, now.”

You nod, placing your trust in Mike and letting him pull you up to his feet, wrapping an arm around your waist. And, somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize that Jessica is missing. One look at Mike and you see something in his eyes, something dark, sad, and something deep inside you tells you not to ask.

You’re just thankful he’s here.

-

Let me know what you thought?

[mysuperheroobsession]

Dear Lizzie Chapter 14

Elizabeth Olsen x reader

Thecoffeeshopgirl So apparently (since everyone is making a huge deal) I have to announce that yes I do know RyJames. He is my daughter's father and a great one at that. No, we are not together but we get along great cause what matters is our little girl. We were best friends before Dotty came into our lives and we are still best friends so please everyone stop hating on him.

Tagged: RyJames

Comments have been disabled.

A/n: I know it’s short.

[sea040561]

Agents of Shield Fan Fiction

Does anyone out there write AOS fan fiction with the real life actors? Specifically Brett Dalton? Or if you aren't comfortable writing real life actors, I'd even take Grant Ward (except he never turned bad lol) For some reason, I'm all of sudden dying for a fic with Brett/Grant x reader (me!). These are the key points for the fic that I'd prefer: -Must include smut -Reader is a virgin (doesn't matter her age) -Doesn't know who Brett or Grant are (actor or AOS) -Never been in a serious relationship -Relationship leads to marriage & pregnancy (can be implied)

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Trapped in the freezing sanatorium, Mike notices your body trembling from the cold and takes matters into his own hands-literally. His touch starts out innocent, a way to warm you up, but soon it turns into something far more heated.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Wolfie being a good boy. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

Note: I played the original game years ago, and now that I'm playing the remake, my crush on Mike has come back. He's such a good character with amazing development. I never expected to like him this much. I'm near chapter 7 of the remake, and I'm honestly loving it.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Words counts: 3000

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

The cold of the sanatorium was oppressive. It seemed to leech the warmth from the very walls, seeping into your skin and bones, making every breath feel like you were inhaling shards of ice. As you and Mike rummaged through the mess of papers and debris in the dim, decaying room, the chill became impossible to ignore.

You had been at this for what felt like hours. Searching for anything, any clue, any scrap of information that could help you make sense of the nightmare you and your friends had stumbled into.

You wanted to focus. You needed to. But the cold was starting to weaken you. Your muscles ached from the effort of trying to stay warm, and despite your best attempts to keep it together, your hands were trembling as you shuffled through the scattered papers. The torn, thin jacket you'd found earlier did little to protect you, barely covering your torso, let alone insulating you from the freezing air.

Snowflakes continued to drift in from the broken windows, scattering across the dusty floor.

The place felt like a tomb. The smell of decay hung in the air, making every breath feel heavy, cold, and full of death.

Mike tried to stay focused, but even as his eyes scanned the scattered papers on the floor, his attention was pulled to you. You were over by the corner of the room, crouched low beside an old table, sifting through stacks of yellowed documents, your movements deliberate but slow. The jacket clung to you awkwardly, barely covering your arms and torso.

Even from across the room, he could hear your teeth chattering slightly, despite how hard you were trying to suppress it.

You always did that, pushing yourself even when it was clear you were struggling. Mike admired that about you, but it was also something that worried him. He knew you were trying to stay strong for him and the rest of the group, but the last thing Mike wanted was for you to get hurt or worse.

His thoughts raced, that protective instinct flaring up again. You didn't deserve this. You deserved to be somewhere warm, safe... with him.

He had been feeling that way for months now, ever since that night after he broke up with Emily. That night had changed everything for him. You were the one who stayed with him, sitting by his side, listening to him vent as he struggled to process the end of his long-term relationship.

You didn't just offer hollow platitudes; you gave him the kind of comfort and understanding he never knew he needed. He realized then, somewhere between the midnight conversation and the quiet moments of silence, that you were different. You weren't just his friend; you were the one person who made him feel like himself again.

After that night, he found himself constantly thinking about you. How easy it was to talk to you, how you made him laugh even when he felt like shit.

He'd find excuses to see you, call you up for help with college work, or invite you out for something casual. He always assumed you'd catch on quickly to his flirting, but you never did. Either he was terrible at flirting with a guy like you, or you were just completely oblivious.

Without a word, he began to unbutton his own jacket, which was far thicker and more insulated than the pathetic excuse you were wearing.

He held it out toward you.

"Here," he said simply. "Take it"

You shook your head immediately. "No. I'll be fine. You need it more than I do."

Mike narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. "You're freezing, man. You look like you're about to turn into an ice cube."

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out weak and unconvincing. "It's really not that bad. I can handle the cold. And it'd be selfish of me to take your jacket. There’s no way you're any warmer than I am."

With the simple tank top he was wearing underneath, now all dirty with mud and snow, it became even harder for you to stop staring at him. His muscular and strong arms drew your attention.

Mike sighed, holding the jacket out stubbornly towards you. "You're not fine. You're shaking like a leaf." He reached out, gently brushing his fingers over your arm, feeling the coldness of your skin even through the thin fabric of your jacket. "Just take it."

But you shook your head again, more firmly this time. "It wouldn't be fair," you murmured, looking down at the papers you were holding. "You need it just as much as I do. I can handle the cold. We've been through worse than this, right?"

Why couldn't you just let him take care of you for once?

"Come on," he tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "After everything we've been through tonight, hypothermia is the least of my worries. I'm not letting you freeze out here, not when I can do something about it."

You glanced up at him, your eyes softening for a moment, and for a second, Mike thought you might actually take the jacket. But then you shook your head again.

"I'll be fine, Mike."

Mike sighed heavily, his breath visible in the cold air as he ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, you're stubborn.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to divert the conversation as you continued sorting through the papers. "I've been called worse."

Finally, with a deep sigh, Mike relented, shoving his jacket back on with a grumble.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being the creak of old floorboards beneath your feet and the occasional rustle of paper. Wolfie, the wolf Mike had somehow managed to befriend, lay beside you, his fur brushing against your leg as he occasionally shifted.

Every so often, you'd reach down to scratch behind Wolfie's ears. His fur was soft under your fingertips.

You gripped the edges of the papers in your hand, hoping that somehow, just focusing on the task in front of you would make it better.

It didn't.

It was then that you noticed Mike shifting beside you and before you could react, his body was pressing up against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm but gentle hold. His warmth hit you immediately, and you couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped your lips at the sudden contrast.

"Mike?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stiffened in surprise at the closeness.

"Relax," he murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "If you won't take my jacket, I'll just have to warm you up myself." he whispered, his voice rough and low.

Your heart started to race, not just from the unexpected contact, but from the undeniable heat that surged through your body as Mike's lips brushed against the side of your neck. The sensation was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold this time.

His lips moved slowly, deliberately, trailing soft kisses down the length of your neck, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. Your body was leaning into his touch, craving more of the warmth and comfort he was offering.

This wasn't the Mike you were used to. This was something far more intimate, more personal.

"Mike... I don't..." you began, but your words trailed off as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"You don't what?" he asked softly, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest on your chest, pulling you even closer against him. "You don't want this?"

Of course you wanted it. More than anything, really. You'd been harboring feelings for Mike for so long, feelings you'd kept hidden, thinking there was no way he'd ever see you as anything more than a friend, a study partner, a background presence in his life.

But now, with his body pressed against yours and his lips trailing fire down your neck, it was clear that Mike had been seeing you in a very different light for a while.

"I didn't think..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you felt like this about me."

He hadn't planned on this happening, not exactly. But as he held you in his arms, feeling the heat of your body against his, he couldn't deny how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to you. For years, he had pushed his feelings for you to the back of his mind, thinking it wasn't something you'd ever want. You were smart, focused, always so kind.

He pressed closer, his lips trailing lower along your collarbone, his fingers gently digging into your waist. The torn jacket you were wearing slid down slightly, giving him better access to your skin, and he took full advantage of it, kissing his way down your neck with slow, deliberate movements.

Mike's lips paused against your skin, and he pulled back, his expression soft but intense. "You really didn't notice, did you?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've been trying to get you to see it for months. I thought you'd pick up on it, but... guess I'm not as smooth as I thought."

You blinked at him, your mind reeling. "You've... been trying to tell me?"

"Yeah," he admitted, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I've been dropping hints since we stayed up all night after Emily and I broke up. You were there for me, man. And ever since then I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I didn't think you'd ever feel like that about me," you confessed, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Mike smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulled you a little closer. "I noticed the way you looked at me," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "All those times you'd stare at me, thinking I didn't see. You were so fucking adorable, but it drove me crazy."

You blinked up at him, clearly shocked by the confession. Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your waist. "You're not that good at hiding it, you know."

Before you could respond, Mike kissed you. His lips hungry, filled with all the emotions he hadn't been able to express before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer.

You responded almost immediately, your lips parting under his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Mike deepened the kiss, his hands slipping beneath your jacket, his fingers tracing the outline of your hips, your waist, your chest. His tongue dipped past your lips.

After a long moment, Mike pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice low and rough, "You're okay with this, right?"

You didn't even hesitate this time. You nodded, breathless.

Mike's grin widened, and without another word, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time. His hands moved up your sides, tugging at the edges of your jacket as he pressed you against the wall.

You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as the heat between you both grew.

Mike's lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and back to your neck, his hands roaming your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kissed his way down to your collarbone, his grip on your waist tightening.

You wanted more, needed more, and judging by the way Mike was holding you with his erection pressing insistently against you, he felt the same.

He pulled back slightly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at Wolfie, who had been lying quietly in the corner of the room.

He bent down, ruffling the fur of the wolf who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room. "Go on, buddy," Mike whispered. "Follow me for a second."

The wolf trotted after Mike as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone for a few moments, heart still racing. You could hear him talking softly to Wolfie just outside the door, something about how you were "the guy" he'd told the wolf about before.

When Mike came back into the room, locking the door behind him, the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken even more.

Without wasting another second, Mike crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were insistent, full of desire, and you couldn't help but melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with just as much need.

Mike's hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His tongue teased at your lips before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

He broke the kiss just long enough to mutter, "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Then, his lips were on yours again. His hands gripping you even tighter, pressing you against the nearest wall as his mouth trailed down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there.

His hands were on you, pulling at your clothes, lowering them to expose just what was needed with an almost frantic urgency, before he gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the soft skin with a possessive intensity as he lifted you slightly, pressing his body against your.

"Relax," Mike whispered, his voice low and commanding as his fingers trailed down, teasingly brushing against your entrance. "Let me take care of you."

He teased you for a moment, his fingers gently exploring before he slowly pushed one inside, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly.

He moved his finger slowly at first, watching your face for every reaction, but as you relaxed into his touch, he added another finger, stretching you carefully.

Mike's other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender.

By the time Mike pulled his fingers out of you, you were trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him.

You heard the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants, and then you felt the tip of his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You could barely nod, your entire body trembling with need. Mike lined himself up, his hands gripping your hips firmly, and then, with one slow, steady thrust, he pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, filled you completely. He moved slowly at first, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you could do was moan softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"You're perfect," Mike groaned as he began to move, his hips moving with slow, deliberate motions. "You feel so fucking good."

Mike's hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your chest, cupping your face as he kissed you hungrily. His cock filled you completely, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his thrusts.

The more his pace picked up, the more his movements became rougher, more desperate. He kissed you again, biting at your lips, your neck, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust.

"Fuck," Mike groaned, his voice low and husky. His soft grunts filling the cold room as he moved inside you.

The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as his thrusts became faster, harder. You could feel the heat spreading through your body, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the edge.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, Mike groaned loudly, his hands gripping you tightly as he came, his cock pulsing inside you. The sensation sent you over the edge as well, and you cried out as your own orgasm ripped through you, your voice muffled against his neck.

After a few moments of catching your breath and letting the weight of everything settle in, Mike pressed another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away slightly, his hands lingering on your hips. You could see the satisfied smile tugging at his lips, that playful, cocky expression you had grown so used to over the years. He gave you a wink before straightening up, pulling his pants back up and adjusting himself as if nothing had happened.

You followed suit, your body still buzzing with the aftermath. There was something so surreal about it all. Being here, with Mike Munroe, of all people. You had known him for years, but you had never imagined things would end up like this.

Once you were both dressed and more or less presentable, Mike walked over to the door, unlocking it with a soft click.

"Ready to face Wolfie again? He might be a little upset that we kicked him out." He glanced back at you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, before swinging the door open.

Outside, Wolfie was sprawled out across the floor, his furry body taking up most of the tight hallway. The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, and he turned his head to glance at the two of you. His golden eyes scanned you two and then, with what could only be described as a huff, he plopped his head back down onto the floor, letting out a long sigh as if he had been deeply offended by the delay.

"Is he pouting?" you asked, incredulous.

Mike smirked, clearly amused by the wolf's behavior. "What? You jealous, buddy?" he teased as he crouched down beside Wolfie. The wolf, still looking somewhat begrudging, turned his head away, as if refusing to acknowledge Mike.

Mike reached out, scratching Wolfie behind the ears, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I was just doing my part to keep him warm. You know how cold it is here."

You watched as Wolfie's resolve began to crumble under Mike's touch, his tail thumping softly against the floor as Mike scratched behind his ears. Mike chuckled, his cocky grin growing wider. "See? I warmed him up real good. All thanks to me."

Wolfie responded with a soft growl. He finally turned his head back toward Mike and he ruffled his fur, looking pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

Mike stood up, shooting you a wink as he slung his arm around your shoulder. "Damn right, I did." He leaned in to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips.

Together, you and Mike walked down the hallway, Wolfie trotting along beside you. And as Mike gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, you couldn't help but feel grateful that, through all the chaos and terror of the night, you had found someone worth fighting for.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: At the lodge, your friendly chat with Matt sparks Mike's jealousy. In the woods, he finally confesses his feelings, igniting a passionate connection between you and him, culminating months of hidden desire.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Oblivious reader. Friends to lovers. Jealousy. Emily is hostile to the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Smut out in the open. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Blowjob (r giving). Anal sex.

Words count: 4500

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3.

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

The cold mountain air bit at your skin as you trudged up the snow-covered road toward the lodge. A chill ran through you, and you tugged your jacket tighter, glancing around at the quiet landscape. Your boots crunched softly against the thick blanket of snow with each step.

You didn't hear it at first, but you felt a presence behind you and soon two large, warm hands suddenly covered your eyes. You froze for a split second, your heart leaping into your throat as a familiar voice whispered in your ear, low and teasing.

"Guess who?"

For a second, you were caught off guard and frightened, but then, just as quickly, you let yourself relax, recognizing the rough feel of his calloused hands, the deep timbre of his voice, and the warmth radiating from his body as he stood close behind you. His chest was almost touching your back.

Mike.

Of course, it was Mike.

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-amused, and leaned back slightly against his chest, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. With a gentle push, you pried his hands away from your eyes and spun around to face him.

"Real subtle" you said, shaking your head as you met his eyes.

He chuckled, his breath visible in the cold air. "Hey, it worked, didn't it? You jumped, so I won."

"You're an idiot," you retorted, though your tone was more playful than annoyed.

Mike shrugged, his grin widening. "Yeah, but I'm your favorite idiot”

You shot him a quick glance, unsure if you'd imagined the shift in his tone, but the playful grin on his face remained, as if daring you to respond.

"You really are full of yourself, huh?" you teased, hoping to mask the sudden warmth blooming in your chest.

Mike grinned wider, clearly unfazed. "Someone's gotta be, right? Besides, it's fun getting reactions out of you."

"Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts," you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your heart was racing.

Mike chuckled again, his tone softening as his gaze lingered on you. "You look good, by the way," he said, almost offhandedly. "Really good."

You opened your mouth to respond but faltered for a moment, unsure how to take the compliment without overanalyzing it.

"Thanks," you muttered, trying to play it cool. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Not so bad?" Mike echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, I know I look better than 'not so bad’ “

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn't stop the grin from spreading across your face. "Okay, fine. You look good, Monroe."

He flashed you a cocky grin, clearly pleased with himself. "That's more like it." His voice was smooth, laced with the kind of playfulness he always reserved for you. He was standing closer than usual, his gaze unwavering. You cleared your throat, trying to break the tension.

"So, how are things with Emily?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

Mike's smirk faltered for just a second, he ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before looking back at you. "We broke up."

You blinked, surprised. "Oh... I didn't know. Sorry."

You had already an idea of why it might have happened.

"Nah, don't be," he said with a casual shrug, though there was a heaviness in his tone that betrayed his words. "It wasn't working out."

The ease in his voice didn't quite match the tightness in his jaw, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of guilt for bringing it up.

"Besides," he added, stepping a little closer, "I'm single now."

His voice was low, almost suggestive.

He glanced at you, trying to gauge your reaction. A part of him wanted to see something, anything in your expression that hinted you cared about his relationship status, that maybe you were glad he was no longer with Emily. He didn't know if he could ever tell you how much he'd thought about you while he was with her.lo

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne mixing with the crisp mountain air. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made your pulse race and your thoughts blur.

You both continued talking, light and casual conversations together and Mike's thoughts were only on you. How good you looked standing there, snowflakes clinging to your hair, your cheeks flushed from the cold. How amazing it felt when you'd leaned back against him earlier, even if it was just for a second. He'd wanted to hold you there, to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

He caught himself glancing at your lips more than once, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you right here, right now, in the middle of the snowy mountain. To show you, finally, how much he cared, how perfect things could be between the two of you if you'd just let h

But he hadn't said anything yet. Not because he didn't want to, but because... well, because he wasn't sure how you felt. He'd never seen you with anyone else. Sure, you were always friendly, always laughing, but he didn't know if that meant anything more.

So, instead of saying what he really wanted to, Mike kept the conversation light, teasing you, making you laugh and you shot back with your own sarcastic retorts.

Eventually the moon was already high in the sky and it got dark really quickly. You started making your way up to the lodge together, racing on who could arrive first.

When you both arrived at the lodge, the warmth of the fire greeted you, along with the sound of your friends chatting and getting settled in

Mike scanned the room, spotting a seat on the couch. He dropped down into it, stretching his arms out, hoping—praying—that you'd sit next to him. It was still cold, and having you close would have been perfect.

"Come on," he called, patting the empty spot next to him. "I saved you a seat."

You rolled your eyes, shrugging off your coat and getting rid of the snow stuck in your hair. "How generous."

"Hey, I don't offer my couch space to just anyone," he replied with a wink. "Consider yourself special."

You shook your head, laughing softly as you made your way toward him. But just as you were about to sit down, you noticed Matt struggling to carry a mountain of bags. One of the suitcases slipped from his grasp, and without thinking, you stepped over to help him, bending down to pick it up.

"Thanks, man," Matt said with a sheepish grin, adjusting the rest of the bags. "I swear, Emily packed like we're staying for a month."

You chuckled, handing him the suitcase. "No problem. Need any more help?"

"Nah, I think I've got it now," Matt replied. "But I appreciate it. How was the drive up here?" Matt asked, shifting one of the bags in his arms. "Did you come up with anyone?”

"Nah, I came up solo," you replied, shrugging. "It was a nice drive though, peaceful"

"Yeah, I get that. I bet it's nice to have some quiet," Matt said, nodding in agreement. "Emily barely let me get a word in the whole ride. Nonstop talking."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Sounds like a nightmare."

The two of you exchanged a few more words, just casual small talk. Mike' eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange, his jaw tightening. You were talking to Matt, laughing with him, and it bothered him more than he was willing to admit.

The way you smiled at him and the way Matt's eyes lingered on you made Mike's blood boil.

He sat back on the couch, his arms spread out across the cushions, his body language as casual as he could manage.

His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest, the cold air from outside still lingering in the room, but the warmth of the fire did little to chase away the chill in Mike's mood. He wanted to be near you. Hell, he wanted you sitting next to him right now, your body close to his. The couch had more than enough room, and he'd made sure to stretch out, hoping you'd notice and join him. But instead you kept chatting up with Matt.

It wasn't fair. How could you not see what was happening? How could you not see how much it bothered him? How much did he wanted you? He had spent the whole walk up to the lodge teasing and flirting, practically laying his feelings bare, and yet you were there, caught up in conversation and acting the same way you did with him.

Matt's hand lingered just a little too long as he reached out to take the suitcase back from you and Mike's fingers curled into fists, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his cool.

"So, are you thinking about moving soon?" Matt asked, setting the bags down all together in a spot. "Or are you staying put for a while?"

"I've been thinking about it," you said, nodding. "It'd be nice to have a little more space, you know?"

Mike's grip on the couch tightened, his knuckles turning white. Moving? Why hadn't you mentioned that to him? And why the hell were you telling Matt about it?

Matt smiled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I get that. More space is always nice. Have you thought about getting a roommate?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Maybe, but for now, I'm good with my own space."

Mike's stomach churned at that. Good with your own space? He had been thinking about how to get closer to you, how to spend more time with you, and you were chatting with Matt about moving and staying solo.

Just as Mike was about to get up and interrupt the conversation, the door swung open, and Emily stormed in, her eyes zeroing in on you and Matt.

"Didn't take you long to start flirting" Emily sneered, crossing her arms over her chest as she approached you and Matt.

Matt looked bewildered, the expression in his face telling you that he knew something you had no clue of. "Emily, it's not like that-"

"Right in front of me? Really, Matt? And with him?" She jabbed a finger in your direction.

You blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Emily's eyes blazed with fury as she took another step closer, her voice rising. "Don't play innocent. You think I didn't notice?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion as your brain tried to make sense of her words. "What?"

"You heard me," Emily snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes cold and accusatory. "I arrive a bit late and you're already cozying up to him. You couldn't wait, could you? You can't stand to see me with anyone, can you?"

Matt tried to intervene, raising his hands defensively. "Em, come on. He's just helping me out-"

"Stay out of it, Matt," Emily snapped, not even bothering to look at him. "This is between me and him."

"Me?" You were taken aback, genuinely baffled by her sudden hostility. "I didn't do anything."

"Didn't do anything?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Right. You're so innocent. Always playing the victim, pretending like you don't know what's going on."

Everyone was watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of tension and discomfort. Jessica, sitting by the fireplace, leaned forward slightly, her brows raised in interest. She exchanged a glance with Ashley, who was seated on the arm of the couch beside Chris. Both of them looked uneasy, but there was a flicker of recognition in their eyes. It was as if they knew something had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while, and now it was finally spilling over.

Sam has been sitting near the fireplace, quietly observing, her usual calm demeanor now tinged with a hint of concern. She was the one who had always noticed things others didn't. She has seen the looks Mike had given you, those quick glances that lingered a little too long, the way his whole body seemed to shift when you entered a room.

"You always had to have everything, didn't you?" Emily continued, stepping closer until she was practically in your face. "It wasn't enough that you had to get Mike wrapped around your finger, now you're going after Matt too?"

"Emily, that's not what's happening," you protested, trying to maintain your calm despite the rising tension.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed, jabbing a finger into your chest, her voice cracked slightly, though her bitterness held strong. "God, you probably loved every second of it, didn't you? Just waiting for me to get out of the way so you could swoop in. It's pathetic."

Was she even talking about Matt at this point?

You opened your mouth to respond, but the venom in her words made it hard to get a word in. Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. It was as if all of her insecurities, all of her anger and hurt, were being poured out in this moment, directed squarely at you.

"I never tried to get between you and Mike."

"Oh, right, because it's totally normal for you to be all buddy-buddy with my boyfriend—"

"Ex-boyfriend," you corrected, your tone sharp now.

"Don't get smart with me. You might fool everyone else, but I know what's going on."

"You really want to know why i think Mike left you?" you asked, finally meeting her gaze. She wasn’t the only one with the privilege to say her thoughts. "It wasn't because of me. It was because you couldn't stop being a controlling, manipulative—"

"Watch it," Emily warned, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her finger jabbed into your chest again, harder this time.

Josh stepped forward, his voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife. "Alright, alright, can we all just take it down a notch?" he said, his usual easy-going grin plastered on his face, but there was an edge to his voice. "This is not why we came here. This is not... helping. If we can’t get along for 10 minutes then we need a little bit of a break, right?"

Emily shot him a glare but didn't argue.

"Mike," Josh said, turning his attention to the brooding figure standing silently by the couch. "Why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about."

Mike, still seething, nodded stiffly. "Yeah. Sure."

But before he left, he grabbed your arm, pulling you with him. "Come on," he muttered, his voice low and tense. "Let's go.””

The grip he had on your arm was firm, almost too tight. He seemed angry, and you could feel the heat of his frustration radiating off him as he pulled you out of the lodge.

The cold air hit your face immediately. The heavy wooden door creaked behind you as it closed, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, feeling the chill set in. You glanced over at Mike, expecting some kind of lighthearted comment regarding what has happened. He remained silent however, his jaw tight as he walked ahead of you, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket.

You sped up slightly to catch up to him, your breath visible in the cold air. "Hey, thanks again for stepping in back there," you said, hoping to ease the awkwardness that had settled between you. "I thought she was gonna tear my head off."

Mike barely glanced your way, his eyes fixed on the snow-covered path ahead. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice flat. "No problem."

The curt response caught you off guard.

"Come on," you tried again, forcing a chuckle. "It's not every day someone gets accused of breaking up a relationship they weren't even part of. I should be charging for that kind of drama."

Mike let out a short, humorless laugh, but it felt forced, and he didn't even look at you.

You watched him carefully as he walked ahead of you, his shoulders tense, his stride a little more aggressive than usual as his boots crunched heavily through the snow.

"Okay, seriously," you said, picking up your pace again to keep up with him. "What's going on with you?

Mike didn't respond immediately, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he pressed on, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

"You're not secretly plotting revenge on Emily, are you? Because I'm not sure I'm up for a 'Revenge of the Ex' scenario tonight. My ears would bleed if I have to hear her whine again"

Mike's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't say a word, his eyes locked straight ahead. It was like you weren't even there, and the silence between you was becoming suffocating.

You let out a frustrated sigh, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to ward off the cold. "You know, this silent treatment thing? Not your best look. Seriously, you're acting like I kicked your puppy or something."

Still, nothing. Mike's footsteps crunched against the snow as he moved toward the metal gate blocking the path ahead, his movements jerky and impatient. Mike tugged on the latch, trying to force it open, but the gate stayed stubbornly in place.

"No power," you reminded him, trying to keep your voice light. "The generator should be nearby by"

With a growl of frustration, Mike yanked on the gate harder, the metal clanking loudly in the quiet night. He muttered something under his breath, clearly losing patience as he tried again, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the cold metal.

"Goddammit," he cursed under his breath, giving the gate one more angry shove, but it didn't budge. The clang echoed through the trees, and he stepped back, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to rein in his temper.

You blinked, watching him in stunned silence for a moment. "Mike," you said cautiously, stepping toward him. "What's going on?“

Mike didn't turn to face you immediately. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Bullshit," you shot back, crossing your arms. "You're not fine. You've barely said two words to me, and now you're trying to rip a gate off its hinges. Come on. Talk to me. What's really bothering you?"

Mike finally looked up at you then, but the look in his eyes wasn't what you were expecting. Mike's jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling over as he finally spoke, his voice rougher than intended. "Do you even know what Emily was talking about?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and Mike hated the uncertainty that flashed across your face. He should have said something sooner.

"God, you really don't see it, do you?" He stopped pacing, standing still in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've had a thing for you for... I don't even know how long. But I never said anything because I thought maybe I could push it down. If I ignored it long enough, i thought it'd go away."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but he continued talking and gave you no time to respond. "But it never did. And then seeing you with Matt, it just... it fucking killed me, okay?"

"Mike..." you began, but he cut you off, stepping closer, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I'm tired of pretending," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't want to hide it anymore.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air. You had never expected that Mike, of all people, had been harboring these kinds of feelings for you.

He backed you up until your back hit a tree behind you, the rough bark cold against your jacket, his hands gripping your shoulders as his body pressed against yours. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he growled, his breath hot against your lips.

His lips crashed against yours in a heated, desperate kiss. The force of it caught you off guard, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

He pinned you against the tree, his larger frame hovering over yours as his tongue pushed past your lips. Your legs parted instinctively, allowing him to settle between them.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, the fabric of his jeans doing little to hide how hard he was for you.

Your soft moans only spurred him on, the sound sending a rush of heat through his veins. Mike's lips moved from your neck to your collarbone, then lower still, trailing a line of kisses down your chest as his hands slid beneath your shirt.

"How long?" you managed to ask between ragged breaths. "How long have you had a thing for me?"

Mike groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His voice was rough, almost guttural, as he admitted, "Too fucking long." His fingers dug into your hips.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with sincerity. "I didn't know... I didn't see it."

You had been oblivious to all of this. The guilt gnawed at you, and you felt the need to make it right, to show Mike just how much you regretted not noticing, not acting sooner.

Your hands moved down his body, fingers sliding under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin. Mike inhaled sharply at your touch, his breath catching as you began to undo the button on his jeans.

He looked down at you, confusion flickering in his eyes for a moment as you knelt in front of him. The snow beneath you crunched satisfyingly with your movements. "What are you doing?" His voice was low, unsure but curious.

You glanced up at him, your hands deftly working on his jeans, a shy yet mischievous grin forming on your lips. "I need to show you just how sorry I am," you whispered.

Mike's breath hitched at your words, and he bit his lip as you pulled his jeans down just enough to free him, your hand wrapping around him firmly. He groaned, the sound deep and needy, as his head tilted back slightly, his grip on the tree tightening as he watched you.

You stroked him slowly at first, your movements deliberate, watching the way his hips bucked slightly toward you.

"Fuck" Mike breathed out as he felt your lips brush the tip of him, teasing him just enough to make him curse under his breath. His hand moved to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he fought to keep control.

When you finally took him fully into your mouth, Mike let out a strangled moan, his hips instinctively thrusting forward. The heat, the wetness of your mouth, it was overwhelming. Every time you moved, it sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him. He looked down at you, his chest heaving, and the sight of you on your knees for him, your mouth wrapped around him, made something snap inside him.

He couldn't stop himself from moving his hips, thrusting deeper into your mouth, each motion filled with desperation and need. His voice was low, almost growling as he murmured your name between pants, barely able to keep himself in check.

"God, you feel so good," Mike groaned, his eyes locked onto you as his hips moved in sync with your rhythm.

Your tongue swirled around him, sending shivers up his spine, and Mike couldn't think straight anymore.

Just before he could reach the edge, he pulled you back up, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. He wasn't ready to let go just yet. Not when he still had so much more to give you.

His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly as he once again pressed you against the tree. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hard lines of his muscles as he held you up and settled between your legs again.

Mike's hands were everywhere, sliding under your jacket, under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. His teeth grazed your neck as he sucked a mark into the tender flesh there. His fingers moved to your belt, undoing it with a quick flick of his hand.

His breath hitched as he pulled your pants down just enough for your ass to be exposed, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver.

His hand slid down between your legs, his fingers brushing against your entrance, teasing you with the lightest of touches.

He kissed you again, rough and urgent, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his fingers slowly began to prep you. He was careful, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He took his time, letting his fingers slide in gently, one at first, then two, stretching you carefully as his other hand gripped your waist to hold you steady.

He kissed you harder, his tongue moving in sync with the rhythm of his fingers as he continued to work you open.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "You're going to feel so good around me."

He stretched you further, his fingers moving faster now, more deliberately. His heart was pounding in his chest, his own arousal pressing hard against his jeans.

His fingers curled inside you, brushing against that sweet spot that made you gasp and arch against him.

Your moans were the only answer he needed and Mike knew you were as ready as he was. He pulled his fingers out slowly, the absence making you whimper, but before you could protest, Mike was already undoing his own jeans, pushing them down just enough to free himself.

He pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he held you steady.

"Tell me you want this," Mike growled, his voice low and dangerous as he looked into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," you gasped, your voice breathless and desperate as you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I need you... please."

That was all he needed to hear. With a low groan, Mike pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretching you in a way that made you gasp. The tightness around him was almost too much, the heat and pressure overwhelming, but it felt perfect.

"Fuck," Mike grunted as he buried himself inside you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He could feel every inch of you, the way your muscles clenched around him.

For a moment, he didn't move, just savoring the feeling, the way you fit him so perfectly. His forehead rested against yours, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath.

"You feel so fucking good," Mike groaned, his hands sliding up your back, holding you tight against him as he finally began to move.

You moaned his name softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, and it only made Mike more desperate. His pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with more force now, driving deeper into you with every thrust.

Mike's hands roamed your body, gripping your ass, your thighs, anything he could hold onto as he lost himself in the feeling of you.

His voice barely audible as he kissed you hard, his teeth grazing your lower lip as his thrusts became more frantic, more desperate.

He slammed into you harder now, his hands gripping your hips to pull you down onto him as he thrust up, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.

Mike could feel his own release building, the pressure becoming almost unbearable as he thrust into you with reckless abandon. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, and he could feel the way your body was trembling, the way you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

"I'm gonna-" Mike's voice broke off into a low groan as the pleasure overwhelmed him, his body tensing as he came hard, his release spilling inside you. His hips jerked forward, his thrusts becoming erratic as he rode out the wave of pleasure.

Both you and Mike found yourselves leaning against the tree, your bodies still pressed close, the cold air doing little to calm the heat that lingered between you. Mike's chest heaved with deep breaths, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. His arms still held you securely.

Mike's fingers gently trailed down your back. He gave a low, satisfied hum, his lips grazing your temple as he pressed a soft kiss there.

"I wasn't expecting that kind of apology," Mike murmured, his voice still rough and low, the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "But damn... I could get used to it."

You let out a breathy laugh, still a little dazed and breathless yourself. "Well... I owe you after all this time."

Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing against yours in a lazy kiss before he finally pulled back, his eyes flicking toward the direction of the lodge. He ran a hand through his messy hair, shaking his head slightly in disbelief of everything that had just happened.

"We should probably get to that cabinet," he said, though his voice carried an unmistakable teasing edge.

His hands still hadn't fully left your waist, and you could tell that he wasn't quite ready to let you go. There was a playful glint in his eyes now.

"Yeah, we should," you agreed, your voice soft as you glanced up at him. "I could use a break from the cold."

Mike grinned, finally letting his hands drift from your waist as he helped you adjust your clothes and brushing off the snow that had clung to your clothes. His touch was gentle now, though the way his fingers lingered on your skin as he fixed your jacket told you that his thoughts were far from innocent.

"But you know..." his voice dropped to that low, teasing tone that you were becoming all too familiar with. "I'm not sure one apology is enough. I might need a few more of those. Just to make sure you're really sorry."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to stop the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. "Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind, Monroe?"

Mike leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Maybe I'll show you when we get to that cabinet. It's nice and private... perfect for a few more 'apologies’."

Mike pulled back slightly, that smirk never leaving his face as he took your hand, leading you back toward the path.

The night had only just begun, and with Mike by your side, it was clear that this was just the start of something much, much deeper.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[lefteagleblizzard]

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: In the eerie sanatorium halls, a Wendigo attack leaves you injured, pushing Mike's protective instincts into overdrive.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Graphic description of injuries but not too deep. Angst. Happy ending. Heavy make out session.

You can consider this a part 2 of the fist fic i wrote for Mike but it can easily be read as a standalone. Thank you all so much for all the comments and likes on my first Mike Munroe story! Now I have an excuse to write more for him ☜(⌒▽⌒)☞

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Words counts: 4000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The oppressive darkness of the sanatorium clung to every corner, the air thick with the stench of rot and decay. Your footsteps echoed faintly as you and Mike moved cautiously through the long, decaying hallway.

Mike was ahead, gritting his teeth as he wrestled with the stubborn door of the room that held a shotgun and ammunition inside. He was trying everything. Shouldering it, kickin it, using his weight to force it open, but it wouldn't budge. The door was rusted and seemed to be mocking his attempts to open it.

"Come on, you piece of shit," Mike growled under his breath, slamming his shoulder against the door again with a frustrated grunt. His breath came out in harsh puffs, fogging in the cold air.

You stood a few feet behind, your eyes flickered nervously around. Every distant creak or scrape set your nerves on edge. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching, lurking just beyond the reach of your flashlight.

A faint voice echoed from down the hallway. "Help... please... help me." It was Jessica's voice. Your heart skipped a beat, confusion and fear swirling inside you. Jessica? You thought she was dead.

"Mike, did you hear that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, already taking a few hesitant steps toward the source of the sound.

Mike's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the task at hand. "What? No. I didn't- wait, what did you hear?" He glanced over his shoulder, but you were already moving down the hallway, drawn toward the voice that called out again, more desperate this time.

"Help me, please!" Jessica's voice cracked with pain, and your mind raced. You moved quicker, following the sound into a side room, your flashlight shaking in your trembling hand.

It couldn't be real. It wasn't possible. But the voice was so familiar, so desperate, that you couldn't stop yourself from moving toward it. Your legs seemed to act on their own, driven by a faint hope that somehow, Jessica had survived.

The voice came again, more desperate this time. "Help... please..."

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you moved cautiously into the room. The floor was littered with debris, broken furniture, shards of glass, and piles of crumbling wood. The walls were covered in mold, and the air smelled of damp rot.

"Jessica?" you whispered, your voice shaking slightly as you scanned the room. "Jess... where are you?"

The voice, once a call for help, turned into a twisted, distorted mimicry of Jessica's scream.

A figure dropped down from a broken window above. The Wendigo landed with a sickening thud, its bones pressing grotesquely against its pale skin.

The remnants of torn and dirty clothes still clung to its body, a reminder of the human it once was. Its face, a twisted mess of teeth and sinew, sniffed the air, its milky-white eyes darting around the room, searching for movement.

They're blind, they only see those who move.

The creature's head snapped to the left, its limbs twitching unnervingly as it started to replicate Jessica's voice again. "Help me. help..."

The mimicry was perfect, the voice identical to Jessica's, but there was something horribly wrong with the way it was spoken now that you heard it up close. It was hollow, empty, as though it was toying with the memory of the girl you had once known.

You didn't dare to move.

You didn't even breathe.

It was close now, inches from you, its breath hot and rancid against your skin. You could hear the crackle of its joints, the faint click of its jaws as they opened and closed, tasting the air.

Just when you thought the creature would tear you apart, the deafening blast of a shotgun shattered the tense silence. The Wendigo's body jerked violently as the shotgun's impact threw it against the wall with bone-shattering force. The creature let out a shriek, the noise echoing through the room.

"Don't you fucking dare touch him!" Mike's voice rang out, fierce and raw with emotion. He stood in the doorway, shotgun still smoking in his hands, eyes blazing with fury.

He was at your side instantly, his hand grabbing yours and he yanked you out of the room with a sense of urgency. "Run!" he commanded, and together, you bolted down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

You could hear the Wendigos now, their guttural snarls and skittering movements echoing through the corridors.

"I swear, if you ever do something that stupid again, I'll-" Mike began, his voice tight with fear, but before he could finish, another Wendigo screech from behind you.

It was gaining on you both, its skeletal form moving unnervingly fast as it closed the distance. It leaped at Mike, its claws outstretched, aiming to tear him apart.

"Mike!" you screamed as the creature tackled him. Mike grunted as he used the weapon as a makeshift shield, blocking the Wendigo's swipes as they slashed toward his face. The Wendigo screeched, its jagged teeth gnashing together as it tried to claw its way through the weapon. Mike grunted, his muscles straining as he shoved the creature back, the shotgun rattling in his hands.

Its claws raked against the shotgun as it was knocked out of his hands in the process. The weapon skidded across the floor, out of reach, as the creature lunged at Mike again, pinning him to the ground.

For a terrifying moment, you saw the Wendigo's claws hovering inches above Mike's throat, its grotesque mouth open wide as it prepared to strike. Without thinking, you grabbed the machete that had fallen from Mike's belt and charged forward, your heart racing as you swung the blade with all your strength.

The machete barely cut through the thick skin of the Wendigo's head, but it stopped moving. The creature collapsed on top of Mike, its lifeless body twitching.

Mike let out a breathless grunt, shoving the body off him with a groan, his chest heaving from the effort as he turned to look at you.

Mike's eyes were wide, his face a mixture of shock and gratitude. He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

"Holy shit," Mike breathed. "You saved my ass." His voice was thick with emotion, his usual cocky smirk absent as he stared at you in awe.

Mike's gaze softened, his lips parting as a slow, proud grin spread across his face. The adrenaline still pumped through his veins. You had saved him. You had fought for him. And now, as he lay there on the ground, bruised and battered, he couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness and admiration.

How did I get so lucky?

Mike's thoughts raced as his eyes traced over your form, taking in the way you stood, strong and capable and in that moment, with you standing over him, your chest rising and falling with exertion, sweat glistening on your skin, he wanted nothing more than to pull you down to him, to feel you against him. He imagined pulling you close, his hands wandering, his lips finding yours, desperate and hungry.

"You're incredible, man" Mike said, his voice softer now, more intimate. "I mean... I always knew you were tough, but that-"

He was cut short when the sound of another window breaking snapped him back to reality.

Another Wendigo burst through it, moving with a terrifying speed. Its claws were outstretched, eyes wide and blind, as it lunged directly for you. The machete slipped from your grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground as the creature slammed into you, knocking you off your feet.

You hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs. The Wendigo's claws raked across your side, leaving a fiery slash that tore through your flesh. You cried out, clutching your side as blood soaked through your shirt.

"NO!" Mike screamed, his voice raw with terror as he scrambled for the shotgun. The Wendigo grabbed you by the leg, its claws sinking into your skin as it began to drag you toward the window.

You thrashed against the creature's grip, panic flooding your senses. The pain from your wounds made it hard to focus. The Wendigo's strength was overwhelming, its bony fingers tightening around your leg as it pulled you closer to the jagged glass of the broken window. The debris on the floor slashing your skin in the process.

Mike was on his feet in an instant, the shotgun in his hands as he sprinted toward you, firing wildly at the wendigo. He kept shooting, missing a few times, the desperation clear in his voice as he cursed under his breath.

Your vision blurred from the pain, your limbs heavy and weak as you tried to fight back.

"Get off him!" Mike roared, his voice full of desperation as he fired again, this time hitting the creature square in the chest. The impact sent the Wendigo stumbling backward, its grip on you loosening just enough for Mike to reach you.

With a grunt of effort, Mike grabbed your arm, yanking you back to your feet and into the room. You collapsed onto the floor, your body trembling from the pain and adrenaline while Mike closed the door.

He was at your side in an instant, his hands hovering over your wounds, his face pale with fear.

They were deep. Three long, jagged cuts across your back, blood pooling beneath you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mike cursed under his breath. His hands were shaking as he pressed them against the gashes in your side, trying to stem the bleeding, but there was so much blood.

The pain was unbearable, but seeing Mike like this hurt even more.

"Jesus, this is bad. God, I'm such an idiot." he muttered, his voice trembling.

You groaned in pain, the agony in your side intensifying with each passing second.

"Mike..." you croaked, trying to get his attention, but he wasn't listening. His hands were still pressing desperately against your wounds, blood staining his fingers as he kept cursing under his breath.

"This is my fault. I should've-fuck, I'm so fucking stupid. Why did I let you come here? Why didn't I-"

"Mike, stop..." you whispered, your voice weak from the pain.

But he wouldn't stop. He was spiraling, the guilt consuming him as he rocked back on his heels, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"We need to get out of here," Mike muttered to himself, his voice strained with desperation. He looked down at your injured form, his gaze flicking between your pale face and the blood soaking through your clothes.

The Wendigos were still out there and you were in no condition to run. Mike's mind raced as he tried to think of anything, anywhere, that might offer some kind of safety. His eyes darted toward the hallway as he recalled the old map he had found earlier, remembering the position of the nursery.

"There might be something there," he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

He leaned down and scooped you into his arms, cradling you as if you weighed nothing. You winced at the sudden movement, the pain in your side flaring up, but Mike's grip was steady, firm, holding you as if he was afraid to let go. He held you close, bridal style, your body pressed against his warm and sturdy chest as he began to move.

"I've got you" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your labored breathing.

His heart pounded in his chest as he carried you down the darkened hallways, the dim light of the flashlight casting long, eerie shadows across the walls. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound seemed like a threat, and Mike's grip on you tightened with each step. He refused to let you go.

"Just hold on," Mike said through gritted teeth, his eyes darting around the narrow hallways as he moved cautiously.

Your head rested against his chest, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was pounding hard, faster than usual, fueled by adrenaline and fear. The pain in your side had dulled to a throbbing ache, and you couldn't help but notice how tense Mike's body was, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.

"Mike" you managed to rasp out, the pain making your voice hoarse. "You're... freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," he snapped, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking back to the path ahead, "I just... I need to get you fixed up. I need to-"

"Mike" You reached up, your hand weakly brushing against his chest, trying to calm him. "I'm not dying."

He didn't respond immediately, and when he did, his voice was low and shaky. "You don't know that."

You tried to force a smile, though it hurt to do so. "I've had worse."

"Yeah? When was the last time you were clawed by a fucking monster?" His eyes darted to yours, his fear masked by frustration. "You're bleeding all over the place, and it's my fault.

"It's not your fault," you said softly, trying to catch his gaze. "I chose to come with you"

"And I shouldn't have let you," Mike muttered, more to himself than to you. "I should've made you stay behind."

"You know I wouldn't have stayed behind," you replied, a weak smile tugging at your lips. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

His jaw clenched, and he didn't respond, his eyes fixed forward as he continued down the hallway, his arms never loosening their hold on you.

You didn't know how bad the injury was, but the blood that soaked through your clothes was enough to tell you it wasn't good.

You felt the world spinning slightly as he moved, your vision blurring at the edges. It was getting harder to stay awake, harder to keep focused on anything but the searing pain in your side. The sounds of the sanatorium echoed around you. All you could hear was the frantic beat of Mike's heart against your chest.

Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy. "Mike..." you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He snapped his head down to look at you, eyes wide and desperate. "Don't. Don't you dare close your eyes," he growled, his voice rough with panic. His arms tightened around you, almost painfully so, as he quickened his pace. "Stay with me, damn it. Stay awake. You hear me? You're not going anywhere."

But it was so hard to focus. The exhaustion was pulling you under like a heavy tide, dragging you down into the dark. Your eyelids fluttered, and you heard Mike curse again, his breath hitching. "Hey! No, no, no. Look at me. Look at me!" His voice was sharper now, laced with fear. "Stay awake. We're almost there. I swear, we're almost there."

The strain in his voice pulled you back, just for a moment, and you forced your eyes to open a little wider. His face was set in a scowl, but his eyes were wild, desperate.

Mike finally reached the nursery. It was a small, decrepit room, the paint on the walls peeling, and the furniture broken and scattered.

Mike set you down on one of the dirty beds as gently as he could, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled away. You winced again, the movement sending another sharp wave of pain through your body, but you forced yourself to stay quiet.

He hurried to the other side of the room, his eyes scanning the shelves and cabinets for anything that might help. He found an old, dusty first aid kit, half-hidden beneath a pile of debris.

Mike knelt beside you, his hands still shaking as he opened the kit. Inside were a few old bandages, a small bottle of alcohol and a torn-up sheet that he could use as makeshift bandages. He tore the fabric with his teeth.

It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

The silence between the two of you was heavy as he peeled off your shirt. Mike's hands hovered over your wounds, his face twisted in concentration at the deep gashes torn into your side.

He poured the alcohol onto the wounds, the stinging sensation making you clench your teeth to keep from crying out. He was doing his best to be gentle, but the pain was still excruciating.

"Shit... sorry... I'm sorry," Mike kept repeating under his breath, his eyes flicking between the injuries and your face. He looked as though he was about to break, his guilt consuming him.

"If you wanted to get my shirt off, all you had to do was ask." You said, your voice soft despite the pain radiating through your side.

He didn't smile, didn't give you that sarcastic comeback you had been hoping for. His jaw was still set, his lips pressed into a thin line as he focused on wrapping the gauze around your waist.

"Don't joke about this," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You're bleeding everywhere, and I-"

"I'm serious!" you interrupted, forcing a grin through the pain. "If you wanted to play the hero, you could've just asked. You didn't have to engage in a whole monster attack just to impress me."

He refused to look you in the eye, his jaw clenched as he muttered something under his breath, too quiet for you to make out.

You saw the fear and guilt etched into his face. He was scared. More scared than you'd ever seen him before. His focus was singular, driven by the overwhelming need to fix the damage, to keep you alive.

The usual cocky, confident air that surrounded Mike was gone, replaced by a quiet panic that seemed to consume him.

You knew you had to say something. Mike was drowning in guilt, and if you didn't pull him out of it, he might never forgive himself.

Time to try again.

"Come on, Mike," you said, your tone playful despite the situation. "You're not enjoying the fact that I'm shirtless in front of you? I thought this was, like, your dream scenario. You, me, a creepy sanatorium, and a lot of body contact."

You were expecting at least a flicker of amusement, a quirk of the lips, anything that showed he was still the Mike you knew. But there was nothing. His silence only made the fear gnaw at you more.

Your hand reached out to gently touch his arm. "Mike, I'm serious. You saved me. You're the reason I'm still here, okay?"

His shoulders tensed under your touch, and he finally looked up at you, his expression conflicted. You could see the guilt still etched into his features, the self-loathing that twisted his mouth into a grimace.

"But you still got hurt," Mike snapped, his voice rising slightly with the weight of his emotions. His hands clenched into fists, the bandage half-finished as he pulled away, unable to look at you. "I wasn't fast enough. I should've... I should've done more."

"Done more?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to inject a little more lightness into your voice. "What were you supposed to do, Mike? Punch the Wendigo in the face? Because I'd like to see that."

For a brief moment, you thought you saw the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"Hey," you said softly, reaching out again to touch his arm, this time gripping it a little tighter. "Look at me."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, but after a moment, he turned his head toward you, his eyes meeting yours.

"I'm still here," you said quietly, your voice filled with as much reassurance as you could muster. "Thanks to you."

Mike's eyes flickered with something, some internal struggle playing out behind them.

"For a guy who spends half his time flexing and trying to show off his heroics," you began, leaning back slightly on the bed, wincing a little as the pain in your side flared up. "You're really bad at taking credit when you actually save someone."

That got a reaction. Mike's brows furrowed slightly, and he glanced at you, confusion mixed with frustration.

"I'm just saying," you continued, pretending to be casual as you gestured with your hand, the blood on it had now dried up. "You've got the whole 'tough guy' thing down, but when you actually do something heroic, like, I don't know, saving my life, you act like it wasn't enough."

Mike's frown deepened, but this time there was a spark of something familiar in his eyes, something like the Mike you knew.

"Not everything is a joke, okay?" Mike muttered, though there was a hint of exasperation in his voice now.

You grinned. "I know it's not a joke, Mike. I'm just trying to remind you that you're not a screw-up. I know you're used to making dumb decisions, but this wasn't one of them."

For a brief moment, Mike looked like he was going to argue, but then he let out a quiet, exasperated huff. His lips twitching in a way that told you he was fighting back a smirk.

"There he is," you teased lightly, your grin widening. "I knew you were still in there somewhere."

Mike's shoulders relaxed slightly, and for the first time since the attack, his expression softened. He shook his head, finally finishing the bandage on your side. The corner of his lips tugged upward as he tried to suppress a smile, a trace of his usual cocky confidence returning.

"You're an idiot," Mike muttered, but there was a warmth in his voice that hadn't been there before. He met your eyes again, the weight of the guilt starting to lift.

"I had to learn from the best," you shot back playfully. "You're pretty good at being an idiot yourself."

Mike chuckled softly, a sound that sent warmth through your chest despite the pain. "Yeah, well... guess I can't argue with that."

You leaned back against the pillow, the tension in the room finally easing. Mike's usual sarcastic demeanor was starting to slip back into place.

"I never really thought I'd spend a night in a creepy-ass sanatorium being patched up by a guy who probably spent his teenage years trying to impress girls with bad one-liners." You said, trying to keep the conversation going.

Mike snorted, shaking his head. "First of all, my one-liners were legendary. They even had you blushing when I dropped them on you. Second, I'm pretty sure I'm saving your life right now, so maybe a little more appreciation, huh?"

"Oh, believe me, I appreciate it," you replied with a grin. "But you have to admit, this is pretty far from a normal night out."

"Yeah, well, normal's overrated," Mike said, his tone lighter now. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes lingering on the bandage he had just finished tying around your waist. "But... seriously. I'm glad you're okay."

That fear hadn't fully left him yet.

"I'm okay because of you." you said, your voice softer now, more serious. You sat on the bed, looking up at him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Your lips were sealed tight so you wouldn’t produce any sound of the pain still lingering.

Mike met your gaze again, his expression conflicted, torn between the guilt that still lingered and the relief that you were alive. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he just stared at you, his eyes dark with emotion.

Without warning, he leaned down, his hands gripping your face with a force that nearly made you gasp. His lips crashed into yours with a desperation that took you completely by surprise. The kiss was rough, almost violent in its intensity, his breath was hot and ragged, each exhale trembling with the intensity of the emotions he was trying to keep in check.

His tongue pushed past your lips with an almost feral hunger. The roughness of his tongue mirrored the intensity of his kiss, his movements sharp and demanding, as if he couldn't get close enough to you, couldn't feel enough of you. His tongue explored your mouth, not gently, but with a wild fervor that made your heart race and your body tremble under him.

You responded instinctively, your arms tightening around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your body aching yet craving the connection he was giving you. His weight pressed down on you more as the kiss deepened.

His breath grew hotter, more frantic. His fingers tightened on your skin, almost painful, like he was terrified to let go, his tongue still working against yours, desperate to drown out any space between you. You could feel his desperation in every frantic breath, his rough kisses stealing away any sense of time as he devoured you.

His hands slipping from your face to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, needing more.

Needing you.

You could feel the heat of his breath as he pulled back only for a fraction of a second before diving back in, his lips pressing into yours with renewed force.

Your lungs burned as the kiss deepened further, but you didn't care. All you could focus on was him. On the raw, unfiltered emotion in every press of his lips, every tremor of his hands. Mike's hands roamed your body, careful to avoid your injury, but firm enough to hold you in place. His breath was hot against your skin as he kissed you with a kind of hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you gasping for breath. His eyes were dark, clouded with emotion, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. His hands still cradled your face, thumbs brushing softly against your skin as though trying to calm himself after the storm he had unleashed.

His breath was shaky, his body trembling slightly as he looked at you with a mixture of relief. "I promise. I won't let anything happen to you." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

No matter what would happen next, you had Mike. And Mike had you.

And that was enough.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Next week I think I’m gonna post a Mike Munroe jealous fic with smut! Hope you’ll like it ♡

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: The night at the lodge was supposed to be all harmless fun until Chris made you a deal: if he helped you get closer to Mike, you'd owe him big. You laughed it off, certain he was just joking like always. But soon enough, you'd realize Chris was dead serious and the stakes had never felt more real.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Takes place an hour before the event of the prologue. Mike and Emily/Jess are not together in this. Make out session. No use of Y/N. Chris being an amazing wingman. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex. Reader being called ‘ a good boy’

Words count: 6000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Part 2 of this

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

You stared out the window, entranced by the snow-covered landscape stretching beyond the glass. The mountain peaks towered in the distance, face softened by thick blankets of snow. Snowflakes danced in the wind, tumbling and swirling, like something out of a dream.

A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. "Pretty amazing view, right?"

You turned, finding Sam standing beside you, her hazel eyes bright and clear as she looked out at the scene you'd been admiring. Her breath fogged up the glass slightly as she leaned forward, folding her arms and gazing outside.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s like we're in some sort of snow globe, you know?"

Sam laughed softly, nodding. "I know. I've been here before, but somehow, every time I come back, it still takes my breath away."

You smiled, watching her for a moment before shifting your gaze back to the view. You felt a sense of quiet contentment that was rare. But it didn't last long, as Sam looped her arm through yours with a grin.

"Alright, enough of the peaceful vibes," she said, giving you a playful nudge. "We'll have plenty of time to be zen later. Everyone's downstairs, and I think we're missing out on some very important chaos"

You laughed as she started tugging you along. "I don't have much of a choice, right?"

"Exactly," she quipped, grinning as she guided you through the hallway and down the grand staircase. The lodge's wooden steps creaked underfoot.

Sam kept a steady grip on your arm, steering you through the open archway that led to the main living area.

You glanced around, taking in the scene. In one corner, Jess and Emily were huddled together, whispering intently, heads close and voices low. Jess was laughing at something Emily had just said.

To your right, the guys were clustered around the TV, where a football game was playing on the massive flat screen. Josh was perched on the arm of the couch, gesturing animatedly at the screen as if the players could hear his advice. Matt sat beside him, his focus glued to the game, nodding along and shouting at the TV whenever a play went wrong. And there, beside Matt, was Mike leaning back casually, but his eyes seemed distant, as though he was watching something beyond the screen.

You blinked as you realized that he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze caught you off guard, and for a second, your stomach did a strange little flip. Mike's expression was unreadable as he watched you and Sam together. Then, as if realizing he'd been caught, he quickly turned back to the game, jaw clenching slightly as he forced a laugh at something Matt said.

Sam didn't seem to notice any of this. Instead, she led you over to the large wooden table where Chris was lounging, a mug of hot cocoa in hand and browsing through his phone

"Look who finally decided to join the rest of us. Thought maybe you'd wandered off to commune with nature or something." he drawled, setting down his phone with a theatrical sigh.

Sam rolled her eyes but chuckled. "Some people appreciate the beauty of nature, Chris. Not everyone's glued to their phone."

"Hey, I appreciate the great outdoors as much as the next guy. With Wi-Fi and a lot fewer bears, of course."

You laughed, settling in beside Sam "Some people enjoy a bit of peace and quiet now and then."

"I'm all for peace and quiet, just not when there are opportunities for... other kinds of excitement."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit wary. “What do you mean?”

"You know... like maybe getting cozy with a certain someone?" He leaned in, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. "This could be your big chance, man."

You could feel your cheeks heating up, and you quickly glanced away, mumbling, "Chris, come on”

Chris laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. "I'm just saying, if there were ever a time to make a move, this is it. Perfect opportunity!"

"Chris!" Sam interjected, laughing as she gently swatted him on the arm. "Cut it out! He doesn't need you trying to play matchmaker."

Chris feigned a wounded expression, placing a hand over his heart. "Sam, come on. I'm just trying to help our boy here! All you gotta do is put on some charm, maybe play it a little cool, and bam, he's yours."

"Like you're one to talk," Sam said, jumping in. "You've been making heart eyes at Ashley for all this time. How's that working out for you, Chris?"

Chris groaned, dramatically admitting defeat. "Okay, touché. But hey, tell you what, if I help you get close to Mike, you owe me a favor, or a solid friendship payback, something. Deal?"

You chuckled, waving him off. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Chris" You didn't think he was serious, but it was hard not to laugh at his enthusiasm. You knew Chris well enough to know he was just having a bit of fun.

"Good," Chris said, giving you a mock-salute. "Now that's settled, I'll be expecting my reward once you and Mike are official"

"Official?" You snorted, leaning back in your seat. "I'm pretty sure we're a long way from that"

"Not if you listen to your wingman here," he said, winking. "I know all the right moves."

"Right," Sam interjected with a grin. "Just like you know all the moves to win Ashley over?"

Chris held up his hands, chuckling. "I can be persuasive."

Sam shook her head, laughing softly. She leaned in, giving you an encouraging smile. "Look, don't listen to him. Just be yourself, and if it's meant to happen, it will. And don't let him pressure you into anything."

"Thank you, Sam," you replied, grateful for her grounded advice.

The game wrapped up, the room buzzed with chatter and laughter. Josh turned off the TV and everyone gravitated toward the couches in the living room, drawn together by the warmth of the fireplace and the cozy ambiance of the lodge. The couches were a bit crowded, and as people started finding seats, you hovered near the edge, ready to grab a stool from the table to give everyone more room.

"Hey!" Mike's voice made you turn back. "There's room here." He gestured to the narrow space beside him, barely wide enough for one person.

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks warm as you registered what he was offering. It wasn't much room. Actually, it was hardly any room at all. But he was looking at you expectantly, his gaze unwavering, and you found yourself nodding, unable to turn down the chance.

You made your way over, careful to keep your composure even as your heart raced. Sliding into the narrow space, you were acutely aware of his shoulder pressing warmly against yours, his knee brushing against your leg.

The chatter picked up around you, Jessica was animatedly recounting a wild story from a previous trip, her hands gesturing wildly, drawing laughs from Sam and Emily. Matt listened with an amused grin as she continued her exaggerated retelling. Chris and Ashley sat on the floor near the fireplace talking with Josh, their shoulders bumping every so often, and every time, Ashley's cheeks would flush a faint pink.

"You look nervous," Mike whispered, his breath brushing close to your ear, low enough that only you could hear. "Am I making you uncomfortable? Don't worry, I don't bite... much"

You swallowed, glancing sideways at him. His face was close, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips as he watched you. "No, I'm fine," you managed to reply, trying to sound casual despite how fast your heart was beating. "It's just a bit of a tight squeeze."

He chuckled softly, eyes glinting. "Yeah, real tight. Guess you're just gonna have to get cozy with me."

You felt your face flush, and he seemed to catch it, his grin widening just a little. The conversation around you flowed on but you felt as though there was this separate, quieter bubble with just you and Mike.

Casually, he stretched his arm out along the back of the couch and his arm soon dropped gently onto your shoulder, his fingers grazing the fabric of your sweater. His hand large and warm where it rested.

The others were talking, lost in discussion about various topics but you were barely able to focus on a single word.

You could feel Mike's eyes on you, and when you dared to glance his way, you found him watching you with a quiet intensity, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face, his gaze lingering a bit too long, savoring the sight of you flustered beside him. The flicker of firelight danced in his eyes, giving them a soft, molten glow.

You two were, like, five seconds away from sitting on each other's laps and if you wanted to, he wouldn't mind at all.

He looked away then, his fingers tapping lightly on your arm as he settled back, his focus shifting to the others' conversation, smiling at something Jess was said.

"So there I was," Jess said, leaning forward, "freshman year, completely new at school, trying to look cute in gym class which, by the way, is nearly impossible with the whole sweats and sneakers thing." She rolled her eyes, earning chuckles from the group. "And we're playing dodgeball. I'm just minding my own business doing some selfies, when BAM!" She smacked her hands together, emphasizing the impact. "This guy drills me in the face with the ball. I literally hit the ground in front of the entire class."

The room erupted with laughter, Chris practically doubling over as he clutched his stomach.

"Okay, okay," Matt said, wiping a tear from his eye after the laughter had died down. "I've got one, but no judging."

"We're all friends here, Matt," Chris teased, leaning forward with mock seriousness. "Of course we’re gonna do it."

Matt launched into a story about a school dance gone wrong. Something about spilling punch on his crush's dress and then slipping in it while trying to apologize. The group listened, laughing and wincing as he described the mortifying details.

Just as Matt's story ended, Josh turned his attention to Mike, "What about you? Surely you've got some embarrassing memory tucked away."

Mike chuckled, feigning reluctance but clearly enjoying the attention. "You guys want a story? Here's one. My first kiss was not exactly smooth."

The room perked up, everyone leaning in a little closer.

"Alright, alright. So... freshman year. I was at this house party. You know, feeling like a big deal and all that." He leaned forward, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "I'm wearing way too much cologne because, apparently, I thought that was how you got someone's attention. And, yeah, I was nervous."

The group chuckled, and you found yourself smiling as you imagined a younger, less self-assured Mike.

"It was one of those moments, you know? I'm thinking, 'This is it, man’ So, finally, I'm like, okay, I'm going in for the kiss." He paused for dramatic effect.

"And I close my eyes... maybe a little too soon. So, I lean in, full of confidence, but instead of a pair lips, I end up kissing a forehead, like I was giving a blessing or something," he said, laughing as he reenacted the awkward gesture, his face breaking into a grimace.

The room burst into laughter, everyone's amusement only fueling Mike's smile.

Emily grinned, tapping her chin to appear deep in thought. "You know, that sounds like it needs a redo."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his face a mixture of curiosity and mild surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying," Emily continued, her tone playful and a little too serious, "you need a chance to redeem yourself. Your reputation is on the line here, Mike.

"Oh, come on, Michael," Jess teased, winking at Emily. "Emily's just trying to help you out."

Emily crossed her arms, pretending to look offended. "If you're as smooth as you think you are, this should be easy."

Chris voice soon stole the attention of everyone, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked at you. “Why don’t you step in and be a good homie? Make this unique for him without hurting the girls’ feelings here. It’s just a way to help a buddy out.”

Heat flooded your face, and you looked at Chris with a mixture of disbelief and horror, silently cursing him for putting you on the spot. He had an exaggerated, almost innocent smile, like he hadn't just thrown you into the spotlight. You could feel the group's attention shift, everyone's curiosity piqued as they picked up on Chris's not-so-subtle suggestion.

Your heart started to race, your mind suddenly split in trying to figure out what to do.

Accept the proposal. Embrace the challenge, let the thrill ignite something between you two, regardless of the potential consequences. It could solidify your feelings and perhaps satisfy your infatuation, or throw your friendship with others into chaos.

Refuse. Protect yourself from vulnerability, avoid complicating things with Mike, and maintain a semblance of control over the situation. It’s safe, but it might leave you wondering what could have been.

You take a deep breath, weighing the options. You looked over at Mike from the corner of your eyes and to your surprise, he didn't seem phased or disgusted at all. In fact, he looked intrigued. Maybe even a bit too eager. He shifted closer, his gaze steady as he looked at you, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Accept the proposal

A faint shimmer seemed to ripple across the room, a barely perceptible wave that was more felt than seen, like the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings resonating outwards, echoing into something larger, something unknown.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"I’ve got no problem," you said, your voice quieter than you'd intended, a slight tremor betraying the excitement that was coursing through you. Your pulse quickened as you realized how real this was about to become. "But no promises on-"

Before you could finish, Mike's hand was on your face, his fingers warm and steady against your skin as he gently but firmly guided you to face him. His touch was confident, the kind of touch that held no hesitation, no doubt. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of excitement in his eyes, a spark that catches you off guard.

His touch was warm, grounding, and you barely had time to brace yourself before his lips met yours.

The kiss started soft, a gentle pressure that deepened soon, his lips parting slightly as he tilted your head, his hand steadying you.

His arm around your shoulder tightened, drawing you in closer and enveloping you in the warmth of his solid frame, effectively caging you against him. Backing away was no longer an option.

The room around you erupted in shouts and cheers, but they felt like background noise to the consuming connection between you and Mike.

You could feel his restraint slipping, his eagerness intensifying. His lips moved with a hunger that was unmistakable, his hand slipping down to your shoulder, fingers pressing into your skin as if to anchor himself.

You felt his tongue slip forward, grazing against yours, a bold, unrestrained movement that took your breath away. His breath mingled with yours as his tongue explored, tracing along your teeth and slipping eagerly into every corner of your mouth. His hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he angled you closer, the kiss growing deeper, more intense.

Emily sat back, her expression carefully controlled, her usual sharp confidence dimming as she watched you and Mike. There was a bitterness in her eyes that she tried to hide behind a forced smile, her gaze dropping as if she couldn't bear to watch.

Sam glanced away from the intensity of the moment, a soft smile spreading across her face as she took in your bliss. She was genuinely happy for you, watching you live out what could only be described as a dream for anyone with their crush. But as her gaze drifted to Hannah, her expression shifted.

She gave Chris a quick punch on the arm, muttering, "Nice going, cupid," as she shot a concerned glance toward Hannah who was looking down, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Chris, realizing what he'd inadvertently stirred up, shifted uncomfortably, murmuring an apology under his breath.

"I swear I thought it'd just be, like, a quick smooch or something. Didn't expect him to... you know, go all in."

You could feel your friends laughing together, their voices blending with the loud beating of your heart reverberating in your ears, all of them no longer paying attention to you and Mike.

Mike's mouth was still on yours, his lips pressing insistently along with the soft cradle of his hand on the back of your head as he leaned in even closer, his thumb brushing gently along your jawline, a soft, almost tender gesture that contrasted with the intensity of his kiss.

When he finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, he didn't move far. His arm remained on your shoulder, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as his gaze lingered on your face. His pupils wide and there was a spark of satisfaction in the small, lopsided grin that curved his lips. He looked as though he'd just accomplished something he'd wanted for a long time, and his hand remained at your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek, leaving you with the realization that maybe Mike felt the same way.

He winked at you, his grin widening as he took in the sight of your flushed face, pleased with the effect he'd had on you.

The warmth of the lodge felt almost suffocating after this. Your heart was pounding, your skin tingling, and you could feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the fireplace. So, when everyone got up to see who could withstand more booze between Josh and Chris, you slipped away from the group, sneaking outside to steady yourself.

Sitting alone outside in the snow, you tilted your head back and exhaled, your breath clouding the air around you in soft, fleeting puffs. The chill from the ground seeped through your clothes, but you barely noticed, too lost in the replay of the kiss that had unfolded with Mike earlier. A quiet smile lingered on your lips, but it was starting to ache from how long it had stayed there. You touched your face, almost laughing at how ridiculous it felt to be so swept up by a single kiss.

The silence was broken by a distant, eerie sound. A chilling, guttural scream that seemed to echo through the snowy trees, too animalistic to be human and too distorted to be familiar. You suddenly became aware of just how isolated you were out here. With one last look around, you decided it was best to head back inside.

Chris and Josh were sprawled across the two couches, completely knocked out. Josh's arm hung limply over the edge, while Chris had somehow managed to slump halfway down the couch, his head hanging back and a gentle snore escaping his lips.

You walked over, chuckling softly as you took in the sight. Chris's face was adorned with various drawings, courtesy of your mature friends. He had a mustache, glasses, and something vaguely resembling a pirate's eye patch.

You leaned in, whispering to him, "I'll make it up to you somehow." Не mumbled something incomprehensible in response, but it only made you smile, glad he was there, even in his alcohol-induced stupor.

As you straightened, your gaze drifted to the table nearby, where a crumpled piece of paper lay. Intrigued, you reached for it, noticing that it had been folded and unfolded multiple times. It wasn't long before you recognized Jessica's handwriting, her signature dramatic flourish over every "i" and "j". Curiosity piqued, you smoothed it out and began reading.

They intended to lure Hannah into thinking Mike was genuinely interested in her, playing on her obvious crush. An idea likely planted by Emily, who you knew was never above using a little underhandedness to get what she wanted, especially if it meant eliminating any ‘competition’ for Mike's attention

Hannah had been Mike's quiet admirer for as long as anyone could remember, and she likely saw you as competition, someone who was slowly claiming the attention she'd always dreamed of having for herself.

And the the kiss you had with Mike happened. Raw, real, with an intensity you hadn't felt before. The memory alone was enough to make your heart race, but now it was tinted with a complicated swirl of guilt and conflict.

You folded the paper and placed it back on the table, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Taking a steadying breath, you climbed the stairs, your heart a chaotic mix of emotions. Maybe you were in time to see what they were up to and stop this stupid idea but, as you reached the landing, you saw Hannah standing in the hallway, looking more vulnerable than ever.

She had changed into a new outfit, this should have been the shirt mentioned on the paper. Her makeup was carefully applied and she'd styled her hair, giving her an air of confidence that seemed fragile beneath the surface. She was trying to be someone else tonight, someone she thought Mike might finally notice.

She greeted you, her voice soft, almost shy. Ber hands fidgeting slightly as she shifted her weight. "Have you, um, seen Mike around anywhere?"

Her question hit you like a blow, and suddenly, everything froze.

Tell her the truth. Take the burden upon yourself, spare her from the cruel joke waiting for her. Show compassion, empathy, knowing it would devastate her to hear that her crush was being used against her. It was the honorable path. But in doing so, you risk losing any chance you had with Mike, knowing she might find some way to make him notice her, knowing she would keep clinging to her hope.

Tell her where Mike could be. Give her the small push that would send her toward the prank, and maybe—just maybe— she'd realize he wasn't hers to pursue. She'd see the truth of the situation, feel the sting of betrayal, and let go of the dream she held onto so tightly. It would be a selfish choice, driven by a desire to keep what you'd found with Mike, however brief, however new it was.

You looked at her, feeling your heart clench. Hannah's eyes held a faint glimmer of smugness, a subtle look that told you she saw you as her rival, someone she'd managed to one-up. There was a quiet triumph in her gaze, like she knew she'd taken a step ahead in this unspoken competition, and it stirred something in you. An ache of jealousy, resentment, a desperation to hold onto that kiss you'd shared with Mike, the feeling of his hand on your face, his gaze steady and unguarded.

The kiss was still fresh in your memory, vivid and electric. His lips on yours, the look in his eyes when he'd pulled back, the way he lingered, his hand resting on your jaw, his thumb brushing your skin. Those moments felt like yours alone. The thought of giving that up, of stepping aside, felt like a painful tearing inside.

It was that memory that tipped the scales, jealousy and desire mingling with fear and longing, stirring something selfish, something raw.

Tell her where Mike could be

You forced a small smile, doing your best to keep your voice calm. "I think he went upstairs. Maybe check one of the rooms?”

A faint shimmer flickered in your peripheral vision, like a ripple in the air, and a twinge of guilt tightened in your chest.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Hannah's eyes lit up, her face breaking into an excited smile, the look of triumph becoming even more pronounced as she nodded, glancing down the hallway with a sense of anticipation. "Thank you," she murmured as she turned, her steps quick and light, eager to reach the encounter she thought awaited her.

You watched her disappear down the hall, your heart sinking as a pang of guilt twisted inside you. The weight of what you'd done settled heavily, an ache that gnawed at your chest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

Turning away, you felt the need for air, for space, and made your way toward the balcony. The crisp night air hit you as you stepped outside, the chill biting into your skin, but it did little to shake the lingering weight of your decision. The view stretched before you, vast and beautiful, snow-covered trees casting dark silhouettes against the star-speckled sky.

You leaned against the railing, closing your eyes, letting the cold seep into you, grounding yourself in the reality of everything that had happened tonight. The kiss replayed in your mind. You could still feel his touch, the press of his lips, the breathless thrill that had consumed you, making you forget the world around you.

You had let jealousy and insecurity guide you, and it left you feeling hollow, a gnawing ache spreading in your chest as you replayed the moment you'd told Hannah where to find him.

You'd let her walk into a setup, into a trap that would humiliate her, and as much as you wanted Mike to yourself, as much as you craved the connection you'd felt with him, the choice you'd made felt cold, cruel.

So much time passed, snowflakes started to accumulate on your hair and clothes and you were still lost in thought when the soft creak of footsteps on the wooden deck broke the silence, pulling you back to the present. Turning, you were surprised to see Mike stepping out onto the balcony.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"There you are," he said softly, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I was looking for you."

A pang of relief washed over you at seeing him, even as the guilt returned with a renewed intensity. You managed a small smile, trying to push away the conflict twisting in your chest. "Hey," you replied, watching him as he closed the distance between you.

Mike offered you a small, teasing smile, the familiar cocky grin that you'd come to love. "I've got something a little important to talk about with you."

You looked up, meeting his gaze, feeling your heart skip a beat at the way his eyes held a playful glint. He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "You know, that little thing that happened between us a few minutes ago... I think we left it unfinished."

You could feel again your heartbeat drumming in your ears, and a small smile tugged at your lips. "Is that so?" you replied, feeling a spark of excitement rekindle.

"Yeah," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, softer tone as he leaned even closer. "I think we might have a few things to clear up about us." His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, as he added with a hint of playful challenge, "Unless, of course, you're gonna tell me that was just a favor, and you don't feel the same way."

The question hung between you, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your heart pound. You took a steadying breath, feeling the familiar thrill of his presence, the way he seemed to pull you in effortlessly. "I... I think you know what it meant for me, Mike."

"I dunno... you seemed kinda thrown off after. Made me think maybe I did something wrong."

Your cheeks heated, and you tried to roll your eyes, but it came off as more of a nervous laugh. "Yeah, sure, like you ever doubt yourself."

"Hey," he said, pretending to look wounded, though the grin never left his face. "I have doubts. I mean, how else am I supposed to know if I've got a shot?"

He grinned, his hand moving to grasp your waist, "So, tell me," he said, his voice husky and barely audible. "Did I live up to your expectations?"

"Expectations?" you echoed.

"Yeah, you know," he said, his hand squeezing gently. "A kiss is kind of a big deal, right? Wouldn't want you to feel like you got short-changed."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face. "I don't have any complaints," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike's eyes lit up, that cocky grin widening as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost dangerous murmur. "See, I was hoping for more than just 'no complaints’," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "I want you wanting more and more... until you're practically counting down the seconds to get another chance with me." He tilted his head, his gaze flickering to your lips for a heartbeat before meeting your eyes again, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The words sent a thrill racing through you, leaving your heart pounding as he inched even closer. His confidence was magnetic, and you could feel yourself drawn to it, the space between you almost electric.

Mike leaned in, his face close enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek. He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, searching your expression as if looking for any hint of hesitation, but when you didn't pull away, he took his chance.

His lips met yours with a slow, deliberate pressure. His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, his other hand lifting to cradle your jaw, his fingers gentle but firm as he deepened the kiss, savoring every moment, every small reaction.

His mouth moved against yours with a quiet, unhurried intensity. His breath was warm, and the faint scent of cologne lingered, mixing with the crispness of the winter air.

He pulled back slightly, his face hovering inches from yours, his breath coming in soft, uneven puffs as he watched you. His eyes held a mixture of affection and something deeper, something that made your heart race.

"Let's go somewhere a little more private." He murmured, his voice low and rough as he glanced back toward the lodge.

You felt a thrill shoot through you, and you nodded, letting him guide you back inside. His hand stayed at your waist as he led you through the hallway, past the sleeping forms of Chris and Josh downstairs, until you reached the room he usually took when staying at the lodge.

He paused just outside the door, glancing back at you with a hint of hesitation. "Are you alright with this?" he asked, his voice softer now, vulnerable.

In response, you stepped forward, your hand reaching up to pull him into another fierce kiss, pressing him against the wall, your lips moving urgently against his. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you against him, and he let out a soft, pleased sound as he responded with equal intensity, his mouth meeting yours with renewed passion. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you felt him guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

You tumbled onto it, and he followed, his hands bracing him as he hovered over you, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours with hunger.

You couldn’t help but revel in the fact that Mike wants you. You’ve dreamed of this, fantasized about it for so long, yet the weight of your choices weighs heavily on your heart. The way Mike holds you makes you feel cherished, and you can’t help but savor every second.

How could something so beautiful feel so wrong?

You could feel the intoxicating warmth of his breath as he moved down near, his lips grazing your jawline and neck with tantalizing kisses. Each gentle bite ignited a wave of desire, making you ache for more as he savored every curve of your skin

With your silent permission, he lifted your shirt, his fingers trailing along your skin as he slipped it over your head. He took a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with desire as he leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone, down to your chest.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself back, as if he didn't want to rush this moment.

You felt his hands founding their way to your ass, cupping and squeezing it firmly. His kisses grew bolder, deeper, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

He leaned in, his lips close to your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "Been waiting for this... for us." his voice thick with emotion as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours once more.

Mike is here, right now, wanting you, and the idea of sharing him with anyone else feels unbearable. It’s selfish, you know, but the idea of being the one he craves makes you feel alive, even if it means stepping on someone else’s feelings.

His hands moved lower, unbuckling your belt and sliding your pants down, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as he pulled your pants off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

He moved down your body, his lips trailing a path of fire as he explored every inch of you.

As he moved lower, his hands came to rest on your hips, holding you in place as he continued his exploration.

When his lips finally reached their destination, you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips. The sensation of his mouth on you was almost too much. Your hands flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you arched up against him.

Mike's pace was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. He took his time, drawing out every sensation, every moan, until you were trembling beneath him, your body taut with need.

When he finally pulled back, his lips glistening with evidence of his work, you were a mess of whimpers and gasps, your body aching for release. But Mike wasn't done with you yet. He moved back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a deep, hungry kiss that made you dizzy with want.

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as you try to form words. "I need you," you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your need. "Please, Mike."

"Give me a second" his voice husky and breathless as he got up from the bed with a soft grunt.

He leaned over and opened a drawer, his hand reaching out to open it. He rummaged for a moment before pulling out a bottle of lube.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice laced with lust as he looked at you, his grin widening at your obvious embarrassment.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze, your face burning as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure. "Y-yeah," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike chuckled softly, setting the bottle aside for a moment as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. "You're so fucking cute when you're shy" he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate.

He reached for the bottle, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. His eyes met yours as he coated his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

A pair of warm and calloused hand slide between your legs, his fingers gently parting your thighs, your hips instinctively arching off the bed as he began to prepare you.

His movements were slow and careful, his fingers working you open with a patience that made your heart swell with affection. He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further

You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure and when he finally pulled his fingers out, you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips, your body aching for more.

He reached down to unbutton his own pants, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until he was just as bare as you were.

He settled between your legs, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the weight of him grounding you.

He was so big.

He entered you slowly, the stretch and burn of him filling you completely, making you gasp as your fingers dug into his shoulders. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, as if he was unleashing emotions and desires kept in check for too long.

"You're so perfect for me" Mike whispered, his voice rough as he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, across your chest.

The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths, the slick slide of skin against skin, the soft moans and gasps that escaped your lips as he drove into you, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate.

"Fuck, you feel so good! My good boy... only mine." Mike growled, his voice rough and possessive as he thrust harder, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, deeper.

You felt your body respond to his voice, to the way he claimed you with each movement, each touch. You clung to him, your hands clutching at his back as he drove you both higher, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best possible way.

You finally reached that peak together, your body trembling beneath him as you came, the pleasure washing over you in waves so intense that you could barely breathe.

Mike groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he followed you over the edge, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. His body shaking with the force of it and collapsing gently on top of you. He was heavy, but there were many other things to think about at the moment.

You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a mix of the lingering energy between you and the warmth of his body against yours. His chest pressed into yours as he leaned down, his breathing deep and even, and you noticed a light sheen of sweat tracing his brow

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his big and muscular biceps flexing unnecessarily, as though he couldn't resist showing off just a little bit.

A smile tugged at his lips as he looked at you. He leaned down, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, his voice still a little husky and a bit of that cocky charm you'd come to know so well.” Just so you know," he murmured, his words brushing against your ear, "I'm ready to make this official... to show you exactly what kind of boyfriend I can be." He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the words half-teasing, half-serious, but there was a softness in his eyes that told you he meant every word. "You're kinda stuck with me now. Think you can handle it?"

He wanted this, wanted you and every part of him was showing it, from the gentle hold he kept on your waist to the way his gaze held yours like he didn't want to let go.

"You're not getting away from me that easily," he murmured, his voice still laced with that familiar confidence, but there was something gentler there too, an honesty that left you feeling reassured, safe. "You're kinda stuck with me now. Think you can handle it?"

You laughed softly, the sound warm and light in the quiet room, and you felt his chest rumble in response as he laughed along with you, the two of you sharing a moment of unspoken understanding. "I think I can manage," you whispered back, squeezing his hand gently.

His grin softened into a smile, and he let his forehead rest against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the comfortable silence.

Note: I’m thinking of perhaps doing a part 2 of this, i feel like there is some potential. Maybe i could take a darker turn with it. Let me know if you would like it and if you have an idea of what could happen next. If you liked this please leave a comment, i love reading them <3

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Two broken souls find solace in each other's arms. Two strangers in a support group, both scarred by their own demons. What started as shared vulnerability ignited into an electric connection, a fierce bond where Mike's protective instincts soon led to a heated desire neither of them could deny.

Requested from a really nice person here on tumblr. Hope you like it and sorry if i went overboard with your request <3

Tags: post event of Until Dawn. Everyone survived or Mike solo survivor, whichever one you prefer. Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Strangers to lovers. Scene of panic attack. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Riding. Anal sex.

Words count: 5000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

The room was quiet, the chairs were arranged neatly, giving an artificial sense of order to a room filled with emotional chaos and instability. The support group had just begun and already the air felt thick with vulnerability.

Mike Munroe sat toward the back, slouched slightly in his chair as if he didn't want to be noticed. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee, a nervous habit. He'd been to a few of these meetings now, always trying to blend in, hoping no one would ask too much of him. Sitting in this room surrounded by strangers, he was supposed to feel like he belonged, but he felt anything. He shifted in his seat, glancing around the circle, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who looked too open, too eager to share.

Then his eyes landed on you.

Sitting a few seats away, you were quiet, withdrawn. You didn't seem to be paying attention to the group as much as you were lost in your own thoughts. Mike watched you for a second longer than he should have, curiosity tugging at the edges of his mind.

You looked familiar. Mike squinted subtly, trying to place where he'd seen you before. Classes? Maybe you shared a course or passed each other in the hallways. It was hard to say, but Mike couldn't deny the instant spark of recognition.

He had definitely seen you around.

The more he looked, the more he noticed how cute you looked. Your quite demeanor only made him more curious, especially since you hadn't spoken yet.

There was a vulnerability that mirrored Mike's own in some ways. You were trying to hide in plain sight, much like Mike had been doing. He couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had brought you here had left deep, unhealed wounds.

He didn't want to be another tragic figure, another story that people pitied. And yet, when he looked your way, there was something in your expression, a quiet strength that made him think you'd understand without judgment. His restlessness would ease just slightly when his eyes met yours, almost like it grounded him, bringing him out of his own thoughts

His thoughts drifted as he continued to sneak glances. He recalled seeing you once in the hallway between classes, maybe in a shared lecture hall, and he remembered thinking even then that there was something captivating about you.

Mike looked away quickly when you shifted in your seat, almost catching him staring. He wasn't here to be checking people out or getting distracted, but he couldn't help it. The way you sat quietly, as if trying to make yourself small, avoiding attention... it tugged at his protective instincts, the same ones that had kicked in back on Blackwood Mountain when everything had gone to hell.

The meeting was now over and chairs scraped against the floor as people stood up one by one, eager to escape back into their own lives.

You started gathering your things and as you glanced toward the door, you noticed Mike Munroe lingering by the exit. Your heart thudded lightly in your chest when he made eye contact with you, this time more intentional than the fleeting glances from earlier you noticed

There was something deliberate about the way he stood, hands shoved into his pockets.

He found himself hesitating for once. He usually bolted out of these things as quickly as possible. He watched you gather your things, preparing to leave, and Mike felt a strange pull to go talk to you.

His gaze flickers between you and the exit, caught in a moment of indecision.

Leave. Walk out now and avoid the vulnerability that talking to you would require. It's safe; it keeps him protected, doesn't risk exposing himself to someone he's only just met.

Take the chance. Go over and talk to you, risk the walls he's built around himself, and maybe find a connection that makes him feel whole again.

He takes a breath, steadying himself. And in a single, decisive moment, he makes his choice.

Take the chance.

A subtle shimmer appears, almost like a fleeting trick of light. A faint ripple in the air, the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings echoing outward.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

His heart pounded as he walked towards you, mentally rehearsing what to say. 'Hey, I've seen you around before' No, that sounded too stalker-ish. 'Mind if I walk with you?' Too forward.

He's close enough that you catch the faintest hint of cologne, something warm and subtly daring, like cedar and smoke. He clears his throat lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well, that was intense," he says with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Almost feels like we deserve a medal or something, just for sitting through it."

You stifle a chuckle, feeling the tension melt a bit. "Yeah, definitely not how I'd choose to spend a Thursday night."

"Oh?" His brows lift, clearly intrigued. "And what would be your first choice for a Thursday night, then?"

"I don't know," you say, tilting your head. "Maybe something quieter... or a little less emotionally heavy."

"Quieter, huh? So no candlelit dinners or late-night rooftop stargazing?" he quips, his voice smooth and teasing. "Guess I'll have to cross those off my list."

The flirtation in his tone catches you off guard, and you glance away, feeling your cheeks warm. Mike seems to notice because he chuckles, leaning in just a fraction, his voice dropping lower

"I noticed you," You said, your voice tentative, testing the waters. "I've seen you around at Westgate. You're kind of well-known."

Mike's smirk grew a little wider, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully. "So you've been checking me out, huh?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of Mike's question, but before you could respond, Mike laughed lightly, clearly enjoying his own teasing. "I'm kidding," Mike said, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. "But now I'm curious... What've you heard?"

"I've heard some things," you said vaguely, trying to stay neutral. "People talk."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "Yeah, people do love to talk," he said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. "But most of it's bullshit. People don't know what happened. They just make up their own stories."

Your expression softened, sensing the change in Mike's tone. "Yeah, I get that," you said quietly. "People don't know the full story."

Mike glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Exactly," he said softly, his voice dropping slightly. "Not the kind of reputation I ever wanted, though."

There was a beat of silence between you two. You understood the need to avoid delving too deep into things that hurt, offering Mike an understanding look.

Mike caught the expression and quickly shifted the tone again, this time with a playful glint in his eyes. "But hey, I guess I'm kind of a big deal now, huh? Maybe I'll start signing autographs."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking your head. "I'm sure people would line up for that."

Mike took a small step closer, his voice dropping just a little. "Would you?"

Mike's gaze lingered on your face for a bit too long, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Your heart skipped a beat, unsure whether it was the intensity of Mike's stare or the fact that you felt seen in a way you hadn't expected.

Mike broke the moment with a soft chuckle, glancing down at his feet as if trying to shake off whatever had just passed between them. "Look," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm not great at talking about this stuff, but it'd be good to have someone who gets it, you know? Like having each other's back or something."

There was a vulnerability there, hidden beneath the casual and confident tone, and you found yourself nodding before you even realized it.

"Yeah," You agreed. "That sounds good."

Mike pulled out his phone, his fingers tapping quickly before he handed it over. "Here, give me your number. That way, you can hit me up if you ever need."

You hesitated for just a second before taking the phone, feeling the warmth of Mike's hand as your fingers brushed. You quickly entered your number and handed the phone back.

"Cool," Mike said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I'll text you later. You know, just to make sure you didn't give me a fake number or something."

You laughed again, the tension easing. "Yeah, I wouldn't want you thinking I was trying to ditch you."

Mike's grin widened, and for a moment, it felt like something was going to happen, something more than just words. But then Mike took a step back, his eyes still lingering on your face as he turned to leave.

The moment you stepped into your dorm, your phone buzzed eagerly in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw Mike's name flashing on the screen. A grin spread across your face as you swiped to open the message.

Just making sure you didn't give me a fake number ;)

Day 1

Mike [9:35 PM]: Hey. Just making sure you didn't disappear on me after last night. Survived the rest of the day?

You [9:37 PM]: Barely but I’m still here. Didn’t think you’d notice.

Mike [9:40 PM]: Hard not to when you're the most interesting person in the room.

You [9:42 PM]: Pretty sure there were more interesting people there.

Mike [9:45 PM]: Nah, they were all talking about their problems. You? You're like a mystery I wanna figure out.

You [9:46 PM]: That's one way to get someone's number. Smooth, Munroe.

Day 5

Mike [11:22 PM): Do you ever feel like people are waiting for you to act a certain way? Like, they've already decided who you are?

You [11:25 PM]: Sometimes. People can be ruthless. You wanna talk about it?

Mike (11:30 PM]: It's weird. After Blackwood, everyone wants to know what happened but they don't really care, you know? They just want the story. I'm just someone who survived. It's not something I like thinking about.

You [11:35 PM): Yeah, I get that. People don't see what's underneath. They just want to know the stuff to discuss with others. It's tough. But you don't have to share that with everyone. You don't owe anyone anything. I'm sorry you feel this way, Mike.

Mike [11:37 PM]: Nah, don't be. I don't talk about it much, you know? But it helps. With you.

You [11:40 PM]: I'm glad I can help

Mike [11:41 PM]: You're the only one who doesn't see me as that guy from Blackwood Mountain.

You [11:41 PM]: You're just Mike to me.

Mike [11:42 PM]: that's why I like talking to you.

Day 7

Mike [6:05 PM): What're you up to?

You [6:10 PM]: Studying. You?

Mike [6:12 PM]: Thinking about how I hate that you're busy with something boring like that. We should hang out instead.

You [6:10 PM]: I've got an exam. Hanging out might have to wait

Mike [6:13 PM]: Exams are overrated I'm more fun anyway.

You [6:15 PM]: Flattery's not gonna work this time.

Mike [6:17 PM]: Who said I was flattering you? I'm just saying facts. I could help you study if you want. I'm great at, uh... distractions.

You [6:20 PM]: Right, because I need more distractions.

Mike [6:22 PM]: I'm an expert in distractions. Top of my class in Avoidance 101.

You [6:22 PM]: what does the final exam for that class look like?

Mike [6:25 PM]: It's an intense, highly advanced skill. Mostly it involves terrible movies and maybe some pizza. You're up for it?

You [6:27 PM]: Maybe later.

Mike [6:28 PM]: I'll hold you to that.

Day 13

Mike (3:15 PM): You free tonight?

You [3:18 PM]: Depends on what you're offering.

Mike [3:20 PM]: A walk, a drink, maybe we'll figure the rest out later.

You [3:22 PM): Sounds like you're trying to get me in trouble.

Mike [3:25 PM]: I'm just trying to get you to spend more time with me. Trouble's optional. You'll just have to put up with my charm for the moment ;)

You [3:27 PM]: Alright. Where are we going?

Mike [3:30 PM]: You trust me to surprise you?

You [3:32 PM]: Why not?

Mike [3:32 PM]: You won't regret it.

Day 24

Mike [11:50 PM): You looked good today, btw. Saw you in the library. Hard to miss when you're looking that sharp.

You [11:55 PM]: You saw me and didn't say hi? I'm offended.

Mike [00:01 AM]: Didn't wanna distract you. But next time, I'll make sure you can't escape me.

You [00:02 AM]: having trouble sleeping?

Mike [00:03 AM]: yeah. Another nightmare.

You [00:03 AM]: Want me to come over? We can hang out. No pressure to talk.

Mike [00:04 AM]: Yeah? That'd be great, actually. I could use the company. But only if you're cool with it. I don't want to drag you into my mess.

You [00:05 AM]: I'm already in it. Don't worry, Mike. I'll be there in 15.

It had been a few weeks at this point since your first meeting and the texts between Mike and you had become part of your daily routine. They didn't always talk about serious things. Most of the time they were just quick jokes, a random comment about a class or something funny one of you had seen on campus.

There had been that one night where everything seemed to shift between you and Mike. It had started like so many other nights, with the two of you sprawled out on the bed of your dorm room watching terrible horror films from sketchy free movie sites that Mike insisted on finding. The glow of your laptop screen illuminating your faces as you both leaned against the headboard.

It had become so normal to find him here, lounging on your bed or flipping through his phone while you studied or worked on assignments. In many ways it felt like you and Mike had been sharing this room for ages.

He strode in, tossing his jacket carelessly onto the back of your chair and remaining in a simple tank top, beads of sweat still lingering on his skin from the gym as he collapsed beside you on the bed. He immediately grabbed the laptop, pulling up the website you'd found for horror movie marathons.

"You really need to cool off," you muttered, half-joking as you hugged your hoodie tighter around you, trying to find some relief from the icy draft in the room.

"if you worked out with me, you wouldn't be freezing your ass off right now."

"I told you already that this week I couldn't" your voice was muffled by your hoodie as you reminded him of the upcoming exam you had, the warmth he was giving off made it hard not to scoot just a little closer.

"You're being dramatic. It's not that cold" The muscles in his biceps shifted slightly, not in an obvious display, but more like he was just getting comfortable, adjusting his position.

"You say that because you're like a human furnace," you shot back, trying not to let your gaze linger too much on the way his muscles flexed.

The screen of your laptop brightened up as the movie began.

The two of you had started a tradition of finding the worst horror movies you could dig up online. Free ones from obscure sites that had horrendous special effects and plotlines so laughable they were almost entertaining. It was like a competition on who could find the most hilariously bad movie.

At one point, Mike had shifted closer, closing the small distance between you. His arm had slid around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest as you both lay back on the bed, the soft glow of the laptop screen casting faint shadows across the room.

The last thing you remembered was waking up the next morning. It had taken you a moment to realize where you were, your body warm and heavy with sleep, but there was a steady pressure against your back

Mike's arm had been wrapped tightly around your waist, his sturdy chest pressed firmly against your back. He's breathing deeply, a low snore rumbling now and then, the sound soft against your ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Mike stirred when he felt you shift, his arm tightening slightly around you before he let out a sleepy mumble. "Morning... Or, uh, afternoon?"

His morning voice was deep, husky, and the warmth of it against your ear made your heart skip a beat.

You turned your head slightly to look at him. "Afternoon. You comfortable there?"

Mike grinned, his face half-buried in your pillow. "You're the best pillow I've had in a while"

"Don't get too used to it. You hog the bed"

"I can't help it if I'm big and take up space," Mike teased, finally pulling away and sitting up. He stretched, his tank top riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin.

Something soon shifted between Mike and you after that moment.

It began subtly, with Mike showing up in the hallways just before your classes, waiting for you. He'd lean casually against the wall, his cocky grin in place as soon as he spotted you walking toward him.

"There he is," Mike would say, teasingly, every single time. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

You'd roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "You've got your own classes, you know. You don't have to wait for me."

"I know," he'd reply with a shrug, falling into step beside you, "but I have my priorities straight."

And that was the start of it. Before long, it wasn't just random meet-ups between classes. Mike was always there, hovering in the hallways, waiting for you after each period.

He also loved seeing you flustered, loved the way you'd get shy whenever he said something that was just a little too bold.

His once constant texts had dwindled, but only because he was with you in person almost every day. He'd walk with you, talking nonstop about everything and nothing, making you laugh with his over-the-top stories or complaining about how much he hated certain professors. He'd check in on you between classes, finding excuses to walk you to and from the dorms or to meet up for lunch.

He was everywhere.

It became so normal this routine of walking together that you started arriving late to class more often than not. Neither of you seemed to care much about the time, too wrapped up in your conversations.

There was also a different side to Mike, one that became obvious whenever anyone else tried to get too close to you. He'd start glaring at anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way, standing just a little too close, his expression hardening.

Sometimes it was in the quiet way he'd linger just a bit closer when people passed by or in the way his eyes scanned the crowd, arm almost always resting comfortably on your shoulder. He was always aware, always attentive

A late afternoon, the two of you were back in your dorm, this time working on Mike's classwork. He was propped up against the wall on your bed, legs stretched out casually in front of him as he flipped through his notes while you sat beside him, trying to help him with some difficult subjects from his class while you sat cross-legged near the foot of the bed, focusing on explaining a concept that clearly wasn't sticking.

You glanced over at him to see if he was even paying attention as you began your speech.

Mike gave you a lazy grin, his brown eyes half-focused on the notes and half on you, not even bothering to deny it. "I think I'm getting more distracted than enlightened right now."

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "Distracted? How hard can it be to pay attention for 5 minutes?"

"Oh, I'm paying attention," he replied smoothly, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body. "Just... maybe not to the notes"

Your cheeks flushed, and you swatted his shoulder, a half-laugh escaping you. "Keep talking like that, and I might actually make you study."

Mike leaned in even closer, his shoulder now brushing against yours. "There are other ways you could help me... without the textbooks.”

You glanced up at him, narrowing your eyes in mock suspicion. "What exactly did you have in mind?”

Mike smirked, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "I'm sure I could think of a few things."

"You're hopeless," you said, though his voice was soft, not unkind.

"Hopelessly charming," Mike corrected, leaning in just enough so that your shoulders brushed again, his proximity impossible to ignore.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the windowpane, drawing both of your attention to the world outside. Snow had started to fall, tiny flakes drifting down in a serene, delicate pattern.

Mike's smile faded

His body grew still, his expression unreadable. Mike's playful energy had disappeared, replaced by something colder, more distant. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his posture rigid as if bracing himself for something unseen.

You glanced up, your brow furrowing as you followed Mike's gaze to the window.

"Mike?" You asked softly, your voice gentle, concerned.

His gaze was still locked on the snow, his breath coming in shallow, uneven intervals.

He was back on that mountain, back in the freezing cold, back in the nightmare that had nearly destroyed him.

His hand jerks toward his left hand, gripping it tightly, pressing into the spot where two of his fingers are gone, severed by that brutal bear trap. The memory is vivid, visceral, a searing pain that haunts him, sending shockwaves through his hand as he clutches it, trying to stave off the ghostly ache. His whole body begins to shake, and you can see his chest rising and falling erratically, his breaths turning into strained gasps.

The screeching echoes of the wendigos in his head are getting louder and louder, and he can smell the stale scent of blood in the biting wind.

His hand drops to his lap, trembling violently, and he grabs the edge of the bed, his fingers digging in, his knuckles white as he grips it like it's his lifeline. "No, no, not again," he chokes out, his voice a raw whisper, barely audible

You reach out and place your hand on his shoulder, your touch firm, grounding, and his eyes flicker, focusing on you for a split second before glazing over again. His breaths are erratic, shallow and quick, and his face twists with panic as he fights to stay present, his whole body trembling. "Mike, look at me," you say, your voice steady, trying to reach through the fog of fear. "You're here. You're safe. It's just snow, nothing else."

Slowly, he seems to register your words, his gaze flickering back to you, his breathing still labored but slowing slightly as he focuses on the warmth of your hand on his arm.

"I thought I was past it," Mike admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it keeps coming back. Like I'm right there again."

He trailed off, his voice breaking slightly as the weight of it all pressed down on him.

"You're not there anymore," you said softly, your voice full of quiet reassurance. "You're here. With me."

His eyes were drawn to your lips. The way they were slightly parted, the soft flush of color there. He hadn't realized just how close you were sitting until now.

Mike's breath hitched slightly as he swallowed hard, his gaze fixated on your lips. He felt an overwhelming pull, like gravity itself was drawing him closer, and suddenly, all the fear and tension that had gripped him earlier faded into the background. His thoughts narrowed to a single focus.

Pull back. The fear of what this could mean loomed large. He could stop now, retreat to safety, and keep his heart protected.

Go for it. Take that leap into the unknown, embrace the connection forming between you, and let the moment unfold.

Mike's breath quickened as he hovered just inches from you, the world outside forgotten. In that heartbeat, he made his choice.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, Mike began to lean in, his body moving of its own accord, his instincts guiding him now. He paused for a split second, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, any signal that he should stop.

But your gaze remained steady, your eyes soft, open, and Mike took that as all the permission he needed

His lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, testing. Then something inside Mike broke free. The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, more demanding, as if he couldn't get close enough. His hand moved to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in, and the kiss grew rougher, needier.

Mike's other hand found its way to your waist, gripping you with a quiet desperation, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His chest pressed against yours as he angled his head, deepening the kiss even further, his lips moving with a hunger he hadn't realized he was holding back.

You leaned into Mike's touch, matching his intensity. Mike's breath hitched as his tongue slowly flicked out, teasing your bottom lip. When your lips parted slightly, giving him the invitation he was waiting for, Mike couldn't hold back the groan that escaped him.

It was a low, deep sound that rumbled in his chest, full of need and relief. His tongue slipped past your lips, moving with a slow, deliberate exploration, tasting, savoring.

His tongue moved deeper, seeking out the warmth of your mouth, exploring with a kind of roughness, a hunger that Mike couldn't quite control. He groaned again, the sound muffled by the kiss, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist as he pulled you closer.

His body was warm, solid, and you instinctively crawled into his lap, seeking the closeness that both of you seemed to need in that moment. You straddled him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs, your hands cradling his face. The light scruff of his beard scratched against your palms as you kept kissing him deeply.

Mike's mouth found your neck, his lips trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath was hot against your throat and you tilted your head back, giving him more access. His tongue brushes lightly against your skin as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you down harder against him.

You shifted in his lap, your movements slow and deliberate as you began to grind against him, the tension between you building with every passing second. Mike let out a low, guttural sound, his hands gripping you tighter as he moved with you, his hips rising to meet yours in a rhythm that grew more urgent by the minute.

"God," he muttered against your neck, his voice thick with need. "You feel so good.."

His hands gently rested on your ass, groping the delicate and soft flesh gently while he took off all the pieces of clothing protecting it.

He circled your hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle, leaning down to kiss you firmly

Working the two fingers in deeper, Mike watched for any reaction, kissing your lips over and over when you squeezed his shoulders.

Suddenly you let out a strangled cry of pleasure, hips bucking upward to press the two fingers in deeper. That was the spot you wanted. He massaged that little area over and over, biting little marks along your shoulders and upper chest.

After the third finger you were begging for more, digging your nails into Mike's shoulders and moaning against his lips.

With trembling hands, you reached down, feeling the heat of his arousal through the fabric that still separated you. The anticipation was a slow burn, an exquisite torture as you took your time, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

And then, with deliberate slowness, you freed him, your hands sure and steady as you positioned yourself over him.

His gaze never left yours as you slowly sank down onto him, the feeling so overwhelming that it stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, was almost too much.

A low groan rumbled from deep within his chest as he watched you. His hands moved up your back, tugging at your shirt as he pulled it over your head, discarding it onto the floor without a second thought.

You responded in kind, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against the hard planes of his chest.

Mike's hands found your hips again, and this time his grip was firmer, more urgent, as he guided you to rock against him with more intensity. The friction between you was almost overwhelming, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every movement, every touch.

His breathing was heavy, ragged, and with each thrust, a low, guttural grunt escaped his lips. He tried to lose himself in the moment, to forget the memories that haunted him.

As the intensity between you built, Mike's movements became rougher, more demanding. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you rocked against him harder, faster. You could feel the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable

Without warning, Mike grunted softly, his arms wrapping tightly around your frame as he lifted you off his lap in one smooth, fluid motion. You gasped at the sudden shift, your legs instinctively wrapping around Mike's waist as you were lifted off the bed. Mike was still fully inside you, enveloping you in a warm, secure cage formed by his strong, protective arms.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, keeping you secure as he lowered you onto the mattress with a quiet grunt, his body hovering over yours, never once breaking their connection.

His eyes locked with yours, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips soft but insistent.

The moment you two were settled, Mike began to move again, his thrusts deep and powerful as he pressed your body into the mattress. His hands gripped your things firmly. He was doing everything in his power to please you, to show how much you were appreciated.

His eyes locked on yours as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was rough, desperate, filled with the same urgency that was driving Mike's movements. His tongue slid into your mouth.

Mike groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he continued to move, his pace quickening, his hips snapping forward with a roughness that sent waves of pleasure through your body.

His body pressed against yours, warm and solid, grounding you in the present moment.

With a final, powerful thrust, Mike let out a deep, guttural grunt, his body trembling as his release washed over him, sending shudders through his entire frame. You cried out, your own climax hitting you at the same time, the intensity of it all making your body tremble beneath Mike's.

Mike collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His arm draped across your waist, pulling you close and giving you the chance to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You could feel the tension in his body slowly start to fade, his breathing evening out as he relaxed into you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice rough but filled with gratitude. His lips pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as if he couldn't bear to let go.

He shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he could hold you more comfortably, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. His breathing slowed further, the deep, steady rhythm of someone who was finally allowing himself to drift off, to surrender to the quiet peace.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Mike allowed himself to relax completely. There was no tension in his body now, no lingering fear or panic. He might not have been fully healed, but in this moment, he felt whole. And that was enough.

Mike let out one final, soft breath before sleep claimed him-peaceful, quiet, and free. For tonight, at least, the nightmares would stay away.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: A year has passed since Hannah and Beth's disappearance after the prank and Josh has invited everyone back to the lodge to relive old memories. But when you and Mike take a detour to the cabin, the night spirals into a nightmare beyond anything you imagined. Now, you're thrust into a desperate fight for survival as a vengeful Wendigo prowls the mountain, hungry for flesh and revenge.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Takes place during the events of the game. Mike and Emily/Jess are not together in this. No use of Y/N. Mike and the reader are now together. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex. More plot than porn. Lots of characters deaths, some more explicit but nothing too graphic. Happy ending?

Part 2 of 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔡𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥. The chapters that i focused on are chapter 1-3-4-7-8-10 to anyone interested <3. When you see long spaces it means that we are moving to the next chapter. I hope nothing is too confusing, i tried my best.

Words count: 12000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

The sky is tinged with fading sunlight, casting a warm glow over the snow-covered mountains.

The place is quieter than usual. With just you, Mike and Ashley here so far, it feels almost peaceful.

Josh is nowhere to be seen, likely off searching for a way to enter the lodge, and Mike is beside you, his arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he takes a look at the place.

You're leaning on one of the woody rail nearby, hand playing with the snow there.

"You’re excited to see Chris again?" You asked Ashley quietly, leaning against Mike and feeling a warmth settle in your chest at the sight of her expression.

She looks up from her phone and a slight blush spreads across her cheeks "Well... he's always excited to be here, right? I mean, we're all friends."

"That's why you've checked your phone about a hundred times in the last ten minutes?"

She bites her lip, a flustered laugh escaping her as she glances away. "I was just... you know, checking the time, that's all."

"Of course," you reply, letting your voice carry the full weight of your teasing. "You two would be great together, though. You know that?"

"Thanks," she murmurs, glancing up at you with a look of gratitude before looking down at her phone.

You feel Mike shift beside you, and his hand finds yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle, familiar way that sends a pleasant warmth up your arm.

He leans in close to your ear and whispers something just for you to hear. "What do you say, handsome?" he murmurs. "Think we could sneak off for a bit? Just you, me, and a cozy little spot out back?" His hand drifts lower behind your back to playfully squeeze your butt. "I know a lot of ways to warm you up. Want to experience them yourself?"

You snort, rolling your eyes as a flush creeps up your cheeks. "I'm not doing that out here in the cold. You'll have to wait."

"You're worth waiting for," he grumbles, flashing that grin again to you.

"I'm going to check if Sam and Chris are here yet," you say, glancing up at him and kissing his lips quickly . "Be back soon."

Mike raises a hand in a lazy wave as he watched you walking away. "I'll be here, waiting patiently... or impatiently, whatever comes first."

You've started to run down the path for fun, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Memories of your year with Mike drift through your mind, one after another. The excitement and nervousness of your first date, that late-night drive to a quiet lookout. The countless messages he'd send daily, even when he was busy, letting you know he was thinking about you or the way he looks at you like you're the only person who matters. The cold seems to fade, replaced by a warmth that fills you from head to toe.

The anniversary of those memories is just around the corner, and the thought of spending it with him brings a grin to your face.

Soon enough, you see two familiar faces behind a closed door. You rushed there in time and pressed the button to open it.

Sam's face lights up as she pulls you into a tight hug. "It's been ages! How's it been?” she says, her voice full of genuine happiness.

You chuckle, patting her shoulder as you step back. "Good! Life's good. And you? How's everything been?"

She shrugs, a wry smile on her face. "Nothing that exciting to know. I hope everything will go well this weekend" her face shifted for a second as she glanced back at the lodge far ahead.

Chris steps forward, his smile wide as he gives you a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Hey, man. Glad you could make it. I saw all the stories and posts Mike put on his socials. Someone gave you a little push in the right direction, eh?"

You nod, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Yeah, we are. He's... well, he's pretty amazing. Guess he hasn’t figured out how weird I am yet. Finger crossed for another year of him tolerating me"

Chris laughed loudly together with you. "Damn, look at that! I knew my matchmaking skills were top-notch." He gestures to himself with a mock bow. Sam stifles a laugh, giving you a knowing smile.

"Oh yeah, because you totally did all the work," she teases, nudging him with her elbow.

You can't help the fondness that fills you as you open your arms and pull both of them into a spontaneous group hug. "Missed my besties," you say, squeezing them both.

Chris groans playfully, though he leans in, and Sam laughs, wrapping her arms around you, warmth flooding through the three of you.

Sam pulls back a little, looking up at you with a thoughtful smile. "So, wanna do some hiking trip this weekend? Or are you too busy with... boyfriend things?"

You laugh, nodding eagerly. "Of course, I'll make time for it. Want to add some climbing as well?" You glance over at Chris, adding with a grin, "I think Ashley's been looking forward to seeing you, too”

Chris freezes, his face paling slightly as he stares at you with wide eyes. "Wait, what did you tell her?"

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What do you mean? I just mentioned a few things. Gave her a heads-up that you were excited to see her."

Sam bites back a laugh, watching Chris squirm with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. "Relax, Chris. It's not like she doesn't already know. You're kind of obvious, you know?"

Chris groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "This is going to be a nightmare," he mutters, but there's a small, almost shy smile on his face, like he's secretly looking forward to it.

The three of you head back up toward the lodge, chatting and catching up as you walk, the snow crunching underfoot as the familiar outline of the building comes into view.

You see Mike leaning against the wall. His eyes light up when he sees you and he pushes off the wall, making his way over.

“You made me wait way too long” he teases, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulls you close.

You roll your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. "Please. You'd have followed me down if I took any longer."

"Damn right I would have," he replies, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. "Can't let my favorite guy get too far out of sight."

All four of you catch up on everything you missed out on each others in this days.

Josh, fighting with the frozen handle, calls Chris over for some help. Chris nods toward him and you went to follow to help and get the chance to talk with Josh after all this time

The decision you made a year ago, involving Hannah, still haunted you. It only grew worse with each passing day after her and Beth’s disappearance. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak with him without the crushing weight of guilt for what had happened to his sisters.

He doesn't look up right away, his shoulders tense, jaw set. For a moment, he's just staring at the door, like he's somewhere far away. Finally, he turns, his face relaxing into a grin.

Chris, concern evident in his voice, asks, "You doing okay?"

Josh nods, though there's a hesitation there, something unspoken. "Yeah. Just past it now, you know? Ready for a weekend with my friends. Let's make it memorable."

Josh then turns to look at you with an unexpected question, almost casually asking, "Let’s say you’re in a life-or-death situation. Who do you save? The person you’ve got a crush on or Chris, your best friend?"

The question catches you off guard. Chris blinks, staring at Josh in confusion while you feel your own stomach twist in discomfort. You laugh it off at first but Josh doesn't drop it, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Answer honestly. It would mean reaffirming the loyalty and depth of your friendship, showing that friendship holds a unique importance to you, separate from romantic affection.

Deflect with humor. Joking about the choice would ease the tension. Chris might laugh it off and Josh's curiosity would go unsatisfied. However it would hint that maybe you're avoiding vulnerability.

Answer honestly

You rest a hand on Chris's shoulder, meeting Josh's gaze with a steady look. "I'd save Chris," you say, your voice calm but sincere. "A crush isn't enough to put a friend's life at risk or, you know, my own life. In that case you would cover me up, right?" You winked at Chris at the last part, hoping to ease the tension that Josh brought. Chris's expression shifts, softening, his eyes reflecting a gratitude that goes unspoken. A flicker of recognition passes through his gaze, something understood as he analyzed your words carefully.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"So that means you'd pick me over Mike?" he teases, his voice light and a grin present on his face.

You laugh, nudging him lightly. "That’s a different story! Especially now that I've been together with him for almost a year. If a psycho for some reason forces me to make a choice between you two, I'll probably just throw myself off a cliff or something"

The snow crunched beneath your feet as you followed Mike, your breaths visible in the chill mountain air. Ahead, the small cabin came into view, a hidden little nook away from the lodge where Mike said he wanted to take you to.

On the way there, you came across a small and old looking building where Mike strode over, walking inside through the missing door. You waited, your curiosity piqued as you heard the sounds of him rummaging around.

A moment later, he reappeared, holding a mask, rusty and all black. He slipped it on, the mask completely covering his face.

"C'mere, gimme a kiss" he teased, his voice muffled behind the mask. He leaned forward, the masked face inching closer, but you recoiled, scrunching your nose in mock disgust.

“Mike, that thing probably had more mouths on it than a barstool"

He pauses, considering your words, then yanks it off, wincing in disgust. "Fair point."

He tosses the mask aside and wrapped his arm around you as you continue walking.

An horrible sound echoed from a distance, followed by a scream of pain from an deer. You soon enough spotted one lying off the path breathing heavily, its body twisted at an unnatural angle. A large gash along its neck. You glance at Mike, who steps forward and tries to think of what to do.

Put an End to Its Suffering. The deer's labored breaths shudder through the cold air. He could end it now, spare the creature further pain, the mercy quick and final.

Comfort the Deer. The creature lies there, its body trembling from pain and fear. He could try to soothe it, offer it a few last moments of peace, a kindness amidst the cruelty of the wilderness.

He takes a slow breath, crouching down, his hand reaching out and he makes his choice.

Put an end to it’s suffering

There's a serious look in his eyes as he kneels beside it, placing a steady hand on the deer to calm it. "You, uh... might want to look away."

But you don't. You watch as he tries to do the humane thing and took a step forward to try and help him out but he moves his hands, trying to get a solid grip and with an unexpected crunch, the wound worsens and the deer's head comes off in his hands.

Mike recoils, eyes wide, dropping the head immediately. "Oh, holy-!" he takes a shaky step back, brushing his hands on his jeans with a horrified expression.

You're just as stunned, your own eyes wide as you take in the surreal sight but something rustles nearby and snatch the deer's body, dragging it off into the woods with surprising speed

“Run!" Mike grabs your hand, the fear and adrenaline sending you both flying back toward the chalet. Snow kicks up in clouds beneath your boots as you sprint, your heart pounding with the thrill and terror of whatever that creature was. The wind cuts cold against your face but you barely feel it as you focus on Mike's hand holding yours pulling you forward.

"Don't let go!" he calls, glancing back every few steps to make sure you're right there beside him.

The cabin looms ahead and as soon as you reach the door, he shoves it open, practically pulling you inside before slamming it shut behind you. Both of you stand there, breathing hard, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you process what just happened.

“Maybe it was a bear?” Mike tried to make sense of the situation you experienced.

“I didn’t see or hear a bear, though” there is a drop of sweat already present on your forehead.

“Don’t think about it. Whatever animal it was, it can’t come here inside”

You sank into the couch, the air inside the cabin was carrying a faint scent of cedar and something earthy. You glanced over at Mike who plopped down right next to you, his body pressing close.

He leaned back, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch. His hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers settling there naturally, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

"You know," he said, his voice low and filled with a familiar warmth, I may have asked Josh if we could stay here tonight. Just us, in this cozy little love shack." He turned to look at you, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint that made your heart skip a beat.

"Didn't expect to be sweating out here with you for saving my life," you replied, a playful tone in your voice.

He let out a soft laugh, his fingers giving a light squeeze on your thigh.“If you think this heat is something, wait until we really turn it up.” he teased back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Something catches his attention and he gets up from the couch. Mike's eyes narrow playfully as he raises his chin in a mock proud stance, grabbing a old rifle from its spot by the wall and lifting it.

"Look. I'd make an amazing hunter, don’t you think?" he boasts, posing with the rifle as if he were an expert marksman. "Picture it: me coming back every day with something new for you. Deer, elk, maybe even a bear if I'm feeling ambitious."

You snicker, crossing your arms as you lean back. "Right. And we’ll celebrate the collection by starting with the head of that deer with something written on it like: 'Local Hero Mike Munroe terrorized by Bambi’"

"Oh, you're hilarious," he mutters, setting the rifle aside as he strides over to you. "Keep that up and see what it gets you." He tossed his jacket aside as he felt the heat from the run catching up to him, remaining in a simple white tank top despite the weather outside.

"Oh, really?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow as you edge off the couch to toss your jacket on the table.

“If you're gonna make fun of me, you'd better be ready to back it up."

Before you knew it, he was lunging toward you, and you darted off, laughing as you escaped successfully around the other side of the couch, watching as he straightened up.

He raises an eyebrow, moving a few steps closer, his gaze playful but intense. He tilts his head, letting his gaze drift over you in a way that makes you feel hot inside. "Are you ready to lose?"

He lunges forward, his movements quick, almost catching you by surprise again, but you dart around him in time, laughing as you stay just out of reach.

Mike lets out a mock growl, his eyes narrowing as he starts to close the distance between you. "you're only making it worse for yourself." he says, his voice a soft, teasing murmur as he edges closer, arms wide open to catch any possible attempts you could make to slip away.

"How's that?" you challenge, keeping your distance as you hide behind the other side of the couch.

"Because when I catch you, it's going to be twice as sweet." and he lets out a playful growl, quickening his pace as he closes the distance between you and with a sudden burst of speed, he leapt over the couch, landing just in front of you. His hands wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

He leaned forward, one of his arm slipped underneath your knees and you were playfully hitting him on the shoulder to break free.

With a grunt, he managed to lift you up bridal style and dropped you on the couch.

Soon he pulled himself on top of you, hovering over your body completely, his weight keeping you trapped underneath him.

"Caught you," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek as he looked down at you, his expression both triumphant and adoring.

"Alright, alright, you won," you whispered, feeling the heat rise in your face. But he didn't let go. Instead, he tightened his hold, tilting his head as his gaze softened, his fingers tracing slow, gentle patterns at your waist.

"Couldn't have asked for a better catch," he asked, his voice a low, teasing drawl. He leaned in, his lips brushing just barely against yours. Words got caught in your throat as he closed the distance, his mouth pressing firmly against yours, deep and insistent.

His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, a kind of hunger in the way he holds you close, like he's savoring every second.

You respond, your hands slipping around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Mike's hands slipped under your shirt, his touch firm as he dragged it over your head and tossed it aside.

He wasted no time, his lips returning to yours with fervor, his tongue pressed against yours, demanding and eager to get a taste.

His hands moved lower, undoing the button of your pants with practiced ease, and before you knew it, you were standing half-naked in front of him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

His hands roaming over your skin, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest. His body pressing against yours as he continued his relentless assault on your senses.

His fingers worked at your waistband, pulling your pants down in one swift motion before he settled between your legs.

"You're so damn perfect," Mike growled against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. His light beard scraped tantalizingly against your flesh with every heated kiss. His lips moved with a possessive urgency, exploring your neck, trailing down with his hands.

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach. Mike's hunger only fueled at the sight of you like this and when he finally reached between your legs, your body arched off the bed, desperate for more

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. The vibration of your moans against his mouth made everything ten times better for him.

He kept stroking you and you curl into him.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans, rubbing his hardening self against your own with no remorse or embarrassment.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction. You buckle his belt to pull him out of his jeans and boxers and he reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you. "Ready?" he rasped, his voice thick with need.

"Fuck! Yes pleas-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

He slid his hand between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your entrance. You could feel the anticipation building as he teased you, his touch deliberate and calculated.

Mike's fingers slid inside you slowly, stretching you open as he worked you with a steady rhythm that had you trembling beneath him.

His free hand gripped your hip, holding you firmly in place as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out of you with expert precision, curling at the right spot that made you arche your back. You could feel the heat building in your core, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust of his hand.

"So perfect," Mike murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You could barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure as he continued his relentless pace.

Just as you were on the verge to fall apart, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and desperate for more.

The head of his length is now nudging at your entrance. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he pushes forward, sinking into you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, your body stretching to accommodate him as he fills you completely.

Mike groans softly, his forehead resting against the back of your neck as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him as he stretched you open.

Mike groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself to the hilt, his body trembling with restraint.

"Fuck" his voice a low growl as he began to move, setting a slow, agonizing pace that had you panting for breath.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he thrust into you, his movements steady and deliberate. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body tightening around him as he pushed you closer to the edge.

The small room was filled with the sounds of your ragged breathing, the wet slap of skin against skin as Mike drove into you, his pace relentless. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you, the pleasure building until it was almost unbearable.

"Mike," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm close."

He groaned in response, his pace quickening as he chased his own release, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensing with the effort. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrust into you harder, faster.

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your body trembling with the need to let go. And then, with one final thrust, you shattered, pleasure washing over you in waves as you came apart beneath him.

Mike followed soon after, his body tensing as he buried himself inside you one last time, his release spilling into you as he grunted against your lips.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room the ragged gasps of your breath. Mike's body was warm and solid against yours, his hands still gripping your hips as he slowly came down from his high.

Finally, he pulled and collapsed on top of you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

Minutes passed and were spent with him relaxing against you. Each quick, playful kiss he placed on your neck ignited a flutter of joy in your heart. With every stroke of your fingers through his hair, he let out a contented sigh, leaning into your touch.

The quiet piece is shattered suddenly by the loud sound of glass breaking. Both you and Mike freeze, your smiles fading as the unexpected noise jolts you back to reality.

"What the hell was that?" Mike mutters, already standing up and moving toward the sound with a look of concern etched on his face.

You pulled your shirt back on and stood up, heart pounding as you followed him a few steps. "Stay here," he says, glancing back at you.

You hesitate, a twinge of anxiety creeping in but nod as he heads toward the other room where the sound came from. You slipped back on your jeans while moving over to the window, pulling aside the curtains to peer out into the night, searching for anything unusual.

Something on the snow caught your attention just outside, right here in front of the stairs.

Lean closer to Investigate. Curiosity gnaws at you, an urge to move and see for yourself. It’s right here outside. One quick look can't hurt... right?

Inform Mike about it. It hopefully won’t disappear soon despite the snow falling rapidly. You can go and inform Mike about it along with also seeing what happened with the window.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. And in a single, decisive moment, you make your choice.

Lean closer to investigate

A faint shimmer appear, the delicate flap of a butterfly's wings.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Curiosity gets the better of you and without a second thought, you lean closer to the window. Your warm breath fog the window but not enough for it to be at the same height of your eyes.

Footsteps oddly spaced stretch from the edge of the woods toward the chalet. There's something... wrong about them, something that makes your skin crawl. The tracks don't look human, they're wider, deeper, and almost clawed. They're fresh, not yet filled in by drifting snow and tinted in red crimson blood. Whatever made these prints is close. Too close.

You turned around when you heard Mike coming back, his voice confused as he told you about something that broke the window.

You barely had time to inform him about what you saw before the glass behind you shatters and claws dig into your shoulders as you're pulled back, helpless against the force dragging you

You soon made contact with the snow as you got dragged further and further away from the cabin and into the woods.

The thing holding you is relentless, hauling you over snow and rock with an unnatural speed that makes your head spin. Fear crashes over you like a wave, cold and consuming. You thrash, trying to free yourself, your hands scraping against hard, rough skin.

You hear from not far the frantic shouts of a voice you know well. Mike. He's chasing after you, calling your name in a voice filled with fear and desperation but you can barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears.

All you can think about is survival.

Desperately, you claw at the ground, fingers scrambling for anything to slow down the creature dragging you deeper into the trees. Your hand brushes against something solid, a branch half-buried in the snow. Without a second thought, you grab it and slam it upward, striking the creature’s arm.

The creature hisses, a guttural, furious sound that shakes your bones, but its grip loosens just enough for you to tear yourself free, stumbling forward and landing face-first in the snow. Cold bites at your skin as you scramble to your feet, legs already aching from the strain, but you can't afford to stop.

Not now.

Your injuries slow you down. Blood seeps from your arms and legs, leaving a trail as you push through the forest. Every breath feels like fire in your chest, your vision blurring around the edges as you force yourself forward, stumbling over rocks and roots.

In the distance, Mike's voice reaches you, a lifeline you cling to even as fear claws at your heart. You risk a glance back, just a fleeting second, and see him from afar, rifle in hand, his eyes wide with terror as he takes in your disheveled form and the blood marking your path.

He shouts your name desperately, his voice is raw, terrified and it propels you forward with renewed urgency.

But before you can reach him, the creature catches your ankle, sending you sprawling to the ground once more. Pain jolts through you as you hit the frozen earth, your vision going dark for a split second as it kept moving forward deep inside the woods and far away from Mike until you could no longer see him.

It stopped abruptly, it’s clawed hand slashes through the air, inches from your face, before a bright flash of light erupts behind it.

A burst of flame cuts through the night, illuminating the creature's twisted form as it recoils with a screech, backing away from the intense heat. You blink, disoriented, your eyes adjusting to the sudden glow. A figure stands a few feet away, wielding a flamethrower with a practiced ease, his face covered by a mask and big glasses for the snow.

"Get up," he barks, the command cold and unyielding. "Follow me, now."

Still dazed and struggling to catch your breath, you hesitate and the stranger's moves closer, the flames licking dangerously close as he gestures again with the flamethrower.

"I said, move."

With no other option, you stagger to your feet, following him as he leads you through the trees. Blood drips down your leg, each step a painful reminder of your injuries, but fear propels you onward. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, hoping to see Mike but to not success.

From a distance, Mike watches, heart pounding as he tracks your struggling form, his pulse surging with terror and fury.

He sees you stumbling through the snow, your face pale and stricken, blood streaking your clothes and painting the ground beneath you. His stomach twists painfully. His hands tighten on the old rifle he'd grabbed from the cabin, fingers white with the grip.

His eyes flick to the figure standing near you, holding a flamethrower. Mike can't make out the man's face due to the position but he's close enough to see the way the stranger's hand grips your arm, steering you with a harsh, unyielding authority.

A surge of rage floods Mike's chest into something cold and vengeful.

He shouts, his voice cracking with a desperation he can't hide but you’re too far away for him to hear. He raises the rifle, leveling it with a single, fierce purpose. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, drowning out the sounds around him. All he can think about is protecting you, keeping you safe, stopping this man who had the nerve to lay his hands on you.

He pulls the trigger.

Nothing happens.

Mike stares at the gun, disbelief and frustration crashing over him in a sickening wave. His hands tremble as he frantically checks the rifle, but it's no use. The damn thing's too old, a relic that was never meant for anything more than decoration.

“Jammed up piece of shit” he muttered to himself as he tossed the gun on the ground but not before taking the sight off.

His fists clench, anger and self-loathing simmering just beneath the surface. If he'd only been quicker. If he'd only gotten to you sooner.

You stumble over your own feet as the stranger pulls you forward, his hand gripping your arm with an iron strength that doesn't allow for argument or hesitation. Your head throbs and a nauseating chill seeps into your bones

He's silent, his face obscured by the mask he is wearing. You're not sure whether you should be more afraid of the creature that attacked you or of this stranger.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask, your voice rough, scraping against the quiet. Panic flutters in your chest, but you keep it in check, trying to sound braver than you feel.

The stranger’s grip tightens, his voice low and cold as he finally speaks. "To the sanatorium. Only place you'll be safe."

Safe? You can't help the bitter laugh that escapes, but it sounds foreign even to your ears, tinged with the underlying fear that pulses with each beat of your heart. "And I'm just supposed to trust you?"

He doesn't respond, his silence as solid as stone. You're struck by the thought that maybe he doesn't care if you trust him at all. To him, you're just another problem to be dealt with, whether you like it or not.

You feel the blood trickling down your calf, soaking into your jeans, and you know that each step leaves a fresh trail in the snow, a trail that anything or anyone could follow.

The old building looks even more haunting up close, its windows shattered, its walls covered in a thick layer of ice and grime.

Your footsteps falter as you take it in, the realization sinking in that this terrifying ruin is where he intends to take you.

The stranger seems to sense your hesitation, and he stops, turning to you with a hard, assessing gaze. "You don't understand what's out there," he says, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.

You square your shoulders, meeting his gaze with as much strength as you can muster. "Then tell me," you say, the words steady but quiet, a demand laced with a plea. "Tell me what's going on. What was that thing?"

He hesitates, just for a moment, deciding how much to reveal. Then, with a deep sigh, he gestures toward the sanatorium. "Inside. We're not talking out here."

You follow him through the heavy, rusted doors, wincing as they creak open, the sound echoing through the hollow halls. Inside, the air is thick with dust and stale.

The stranger leads you deeper into the building, down a winding corridor lined with cracked tiles and peeling paint. He finally stops in what might have once been a treatment room, with a few battered chairs and a broken table shoved to the side.

Two wolves appear from the dark. A black one growling at you and a white one tilting his head as he looked at you curiously.

You leaned back against the cold, damp wall, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you as the adrenaline began to fade.

With a quiet hiss of pain, you tore off a strip of fabric from your shirt, pressing it against a particularly deep scratch along your arm. The fabric was thin and already damp from the cold air, but it was all you had, and the pressure seemed to slow the bleeding. You shifted your weight, your hand shaking as you worked to tie the makeshift bandage in place, gritting your teeth against the sting that flared with each movement.

The stranger knelt down, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached into a pocket, pulling out a small roll of cloth. He hesitated, his masked face turning to you, as if silently asking for permission. You gave a slight nod, and he moved closer, crouching down to your level.

His gloved hands were surprisingly gentle as he pressed the cloth over a cut on your leg, inspecting the wound beneath. He muttered something under his breath. "Not too deep. You must be tough one to make it out here in one piece."

You managed a weak smile, though it barely masked the pain etched into your features. "I... I didn't have much of a choice. I just kept running."

"Smart," he murmured, adjusting the bandage on your arm, his fingers surprisingly steady and precise despite the thickness of his gloves. "It was all you could do in that situation. If you ever face them again, don’t move. It’s like toads. Sight is based on changes of movement in their field of vision"

He pulls out a small photograph from his jacket pocket and hands it to you. You take it, fingers trembling as you examine the image. The man in the picture is a horror to behold. His face gaunt, his cheek on the left a gruesome patchwork of scarred, missing flesh, exposing jagged teeth beneath. His eyes are milky, blind and vacant, but there's something hauntingly human about his expression, a remnant of a person buried beneath the monstrous features, a true nightmare made flesh.

You swallow hard, slipping the photo into your pocket as the man turns around to throw a bone at the wolves.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"What you saw out there wasn't just any creature. It was once human, before the curse took it."

You blink, your mind scrambling to process the words. "A... curse?"

He nods, his gaze hardening. "Wendigos. Spirits that inhabit the bodies of those who commit cannibalism. It turns them into monsters, driven by the need to feed. And once it's taken hold, there's no going back."

"So... the thing that attacked me..." you start, your voice barely a whisper, "it used to be human?"

The Stranger's gaze softens, just for a moment, and he sighs. "The Wendigo remembers parts of what it once was. People, faces, moments. Things it hated. Things it wanted. All now mixed with hunger”

Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps reaches your ears, distinct and growing louder with each step. You freeze, the pulse of fear quickening in your veins. The man hears it too, his eyes narrow, his body going rigid as he listens. Without a word, he tightens his grip on your arm, helping you stand up and dragging you with him as he pulls you away from the main hallway

"Don't make a sound," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper, harsh and commanding.

You see a silhouette emerging around the corner and he starts to pull you backward, leading you out of the room, away from the figure.

The stranger led you down twisting passages until you reached an area near the entrance to the mines. He turned to you, his grip finally loosening, and gestured to a dark alcove.

"Stay here," he ordered, his voice low but firm. "I'll check to make sure the rest of your friends aren't out there. When it's clear, I'll take you back to the lodge."

You nodded, exhaustion overtaking you as you sank down against the wall, your mind spinning with worry for Mike. You touched your cheek again, feeling the sting of the cut, your pulse still racing as you waited, alone, the cold stone walls pressing in around you.

Back inside, Mike watches as your figure disappears around the corner, led away by that dark, looming man and a fury unlike anything he's ever felt boils up inside him. He takes a step forward, desperate to follow, but his path is blocked by a heavy iron door separating him from the main lobby, the missing key preventing him from giving chase. He shakes the door in frustration, feeling the cold metal dig into his palms as he rattles it, cursing under his breath.

"Dammit," he mutters, his voice low and seething. The image of your face twisted in confusion and fear is burned into his mind and that only makes the anger roiling within him burn hotter. He barely notices his surroundings as he slams his fist against the door, once, twice, the sharp pain a poor substitute for the wrath and worry he feels building inside him. That bastard had hurt you, taken you, and he has no idea where or why.

The night air bites at their faces, unforgiving and cold as Mike and Chris drag Josh through the snow. Mike's hand is iron around Josh's collar, yanking him forward with an urgency that leaves no room for argument, while Chris trails close behind.

The desperation in his eyes is like a fire that's threatening to spiral out of control.

"Mike," Chris starts, his voice quiet, hesitant as he watches his friend's clenched jaw, the tightness in his grip on Josh's shirt. "Maybe we should just take a second. Think this through."

"Talk?" Mike spat, his voice a low growl. "We've been talking, Chris. And he's not saying anything because he's lying." He looked back at Josh, his gaze cold, unforgiving. "He did this. He knows where he is and he's just sitting here, laughing in our faces."

All he can see is the image of you being dragged away, hurt and vulnerable, every second stretching like an eternity, his mind racing with fears that sink into his chest like stones.

They reach the shed. Mike throws the door open and shoves Josh inside, not giving him even a moment to catch his breath.

Josh stumbles as he's shoved against a wooden support beam, his wrists still bound. Both Chris and Mike stepped forward to tie down and immobilize Josh completely against the wooden beam.

"Where is he, Josh?" he demands, each word taut with barely contained fury. "He's out there, alone and injured because of your sick little games!" Mike's voice rises, his anger spilling over as he steps even closer, his face inches from Josh's.

Chris stands to the side, a knot of worry tightening in his gut. The thought of you being hurt, or worse, out there because of this was almost too much to process. A wave of guilt rushes over him, crashing against the worry and confusion roiling inside him. He remembers every joke, every moment you'd shared and the thought that Josh might be responsible for taking that away, it's enough to make his stomach turn.

"Josh, please," Chris says, his voice soft, pleading, as he takes a step forward. "If you know anything, just tell us. We're not... we're not doing this for fun, okay? He’s a friend. Just... please."

There's a flicker of something dark in Josh's eyes, something that only Chris seems to understand. A decision, a choice that still lingers in his memory. Josh seems to notice, his smirk growing wider, almost triumphant.

"You let him talk you into thinking you were important, that you mattered, and then you turned on the only one who would've stuck with you." Josh's voice is soft, insidious, as he watches Chris's face pale. "All it took was a few words, and look at the mess you made with her. But sure, keep believing that he's your friend. Keep thinking he's anything more than just... clever with his words."

Chris’s expression stricken, the weight of the accusation settling heavily on his shoulders, mingling with the unresolved guilt he's tried to keep buried.

Josh looks between the two of them, an air of smugness creeping into his expression. "What, Mike, you think he's anything special? Can you realize that he’s not really the angel you think he is?" he mutters, a sneer curling at the edge of his mouth.

Mike feels his hands tremble with the effort to hold himself back, to keep from lunging at Josh right then and there.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that," Mike hisses, his voice rough, a dangerous edge in his tone. "You don't get to say anything about him. Not after what you did."

Josh just laughs, a hollow, bitter sound that echoes through the empty shed. "You've got it bad, don't you? You'd do anything to convince yourself he's worth the risk."

Mike's fist slams into the wood beside Josh's head, sending a shower of splinters scattering to the ground. "You don't know a damn thing about what he means to me," Mike growls, his voice low, laced with a ferocity that makes Chris's breath catch. "Not a damn thing."

For the first time, there's a flicker of confusion in Josh's eyes, a hesitation that betrays the anger, the defiance in his expression.

“No... no... I don-. I’ve got a problem, Mike... I don’t remember hurting him...”

“Christ” Mike mutters to himself, looking around in disbelief at seeing how fucked up Josh’s mental health was.

“I mean, I feel like I would’ve remembered killing him, right?” Josh continued, his tone shifting from confusion to something Mike didn’t quite like. “If you were with him for a year, he must’ve had one hell of a body.” He flashed a smug grin at Mike.

Mike pulled out the gun from his jacket and pointed it at Josh, shouting with a desperation that borders on madness. “If you don't shut your fucking mouth, I swear I'll-"

"Mike!" Chris's voice trembles as he steps forward, reaching for his friend, fear evident in his eyes. "Don't do this. He's just messing with you. It's what he wants."

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the air thick with tension until Mike finally lowered the gun. He never wavered his gaze from Josh as he spoke to Chris.

“Go back to the lodge with the others” Mike told Chris as he glared down at him, his voice barely controlled, barely holding back the rage that's tearing him apart. "You sure you’re okay?" Chris whispers and Mike nods. “they’ll want to know everything’s fine up there”.

“You’re right. See you in the morning” Chris muttered, sparing a last glance at Josh before slowly making his way back to the lodge.

The lodge has grown quieter than ever, the weight of fear and exhaustion hanging heavy in the air. The night presses on, feeling endless. A loud scream echoed inside the woods and Emily soon bursts into the lodge, her face pale, her breaths coming fast and shallow. Snow clings to her hair and jacket and her eyes are wide, glazed over with a fear none of them have seen before. She's shaking, her body visibly trembling as she stands there, looking as though she's barely keeping herself upright.

"Emily?" Sam is the first to speak, her voice soft but filled with worry as her and Ashley carried her to the couch. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Emily takes a shaky breath, swallowing hard as she nods, though her expression is anything but calm. "A monster- it’s a monster!" she stammers, glancing around, her eyes darting from face to face.

“Em are you okay?” Chris asks, concerned but also curious about what happened to her.

"I’m fine. I just need to calm down. It was moving so damn fast- i just needed to get away!"

“Em, Em. You can relax... Josh was messing with us but we-“

“You’re not listening to me!” Emily swallows again, her hands shaking as she raises one to her mouth, pressing her knuckles to her lips in a nervous gesture.

The group falls silent, their faces reflecting a mix of shock and unease as Emily explains to everyone how she called for help from the tower and she found herself in the mines after it collapsed.

"I found Beth’s dead body" she whispers, her voice barely audible, but her words carry through the room, settling like stones in their chests. "I didn’t find Hannah but I found some of her things there. It seemed she was just there starving to death while we were all searching for her up here"

“Em! You made it” Mike entered the lodge breathless from running.

She got up from the couch and immediately hugged him.

“What about Matt?”

“We’re trying to figure it out...”

“And there is also this “monster” that was chasing her-“

A loud knock at the door made everyone turn. A fresh wave of panic settled over them. Mike's hand instinctively goes to his side, reaching for the gun, but he stops short, his face tense as he glances around.

"I'll check it out," he mutters, glancing at Chris, who nods, his expression equally wary.

They move toward the door cautiously, every step filled with tension. He opens the door slowly, his hand poised on the gun and there, framed in the doorway, stands a stranger, his face full in view this time. He moves with a speed that catches Mike off guard, wrenching the gun from his grip in one smooth motion.

"Easy," the stranger says, his voice a low rumble, as he lowers the gun, his gaze intense but steady. He glances over his shoulder, nodding toward the darkness outside. "It's safe. You can come in."

There's a moment of silence and then, slowly, you step into the doorway. You're limping just slightly, your clothes torn and dirty and covered up by an old jacket similar to Mike’s one, your face bruised but alive.

Mike's heart stops, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he stares at you. He can barely move, his eyes wide, unable to process what he’s seeing. For a split second, he thought that it was a dream until you take that hesitant step forward and reality crashes in. He whispers your name, his voice barely audible, filled with a raw, aching vulnerability he can't hide. And then he's there, crossing the distance in an instant, wrapping you in his arms, holding you tightly.

The warmth of his embrace floods over you, the steady weight of his arms filling you with a sense of safety you haven't felt since the night began. You return the hug, exhaustion seeping into every muscle, and you let yourself sink into his warmth, closing your eyes as you let the moment wash over you.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Mike's voice cracks, and he buries his face in your shoulder, his breath shaky as he struggles to hold back the emotion.

You reach up, brushing your hand against his cheek, and manage a tired smile. "I made it back." you whisper, your voice soft but steady.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze scanning every bruise, every cut, his fingers brushing gently over each mark. "Are you hurt? What... what did this do to you?" His voice is laced with worry, a protectiveness that's fierce, almost desperate, as he holds your face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek

You reached up to cover his hand with yours. "I'm okay, don’t worry" you murmur, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Chris steps forward then, his eyes wide, relief flooding his expression as he pulls you into a hug, his grip firm, steady. "Man, you scared the hell out of us," he says, his voice thick with emotion. He pulls back, a grin breaking through the tension as he adds, "Don't ever do that again, okay?"

A small laugh escapes you, and the tension in the room begins to ease. You all follow the stranger and get to where the girls were waiting.

"Thank god you’re okay." Sam says softly, a warm smile on her face as she carefully hugged you to avoid any further pain.

Emily, still recovering from the shock she went through, gave a curt nod in your direction. "You look like you have been through hell" she mutters.

You manage a small smile, grateful for each familiar face.

The man clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him, his gaze steady, a hard look in his eyes. "I don't have time for reunions," he says, his tone firm but not unkind. "There's something you need to understand."

Everyone falls silent, their faces tense as they turn to him. Mike leads you to the couch, pulling you down beside him, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close as you leaned against him.

The stranger begins to speak, his voice low and grave as he explains the truth of the mountain, the curse that turned the ones who commit cannibalism into unrecognizable monsters. His words hang heavy in the air, each one sinking into them like stones.

Mike's hand tightens on your waist, his gaze dark as he listens, his mind racing with the reality of what you must have endured all alone. The knowledge that you survived this and made it back to him fills him with a mixture of pride and fear that he can't shake.

When the stranger finishes, silence falls over the room, the weight of his warning settling into every corner, pressing down on each of them. Chris is the first to break the silence, his face set, determined. "So... what do we do?"

The stranger's gaze sharpens, his expression hard, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "You’re going to need to find somewhere safe to hide"

“For how long?”

“Until dawn”

They all nod, a shared understanding passing between them.

“Guys... i ran out and left Josh when i heard screaming” Mike told everyone, guilt spreading on his face at realizing what could happen to Josh.

“Your friend is already dead” the stranger spoke with unwavering certainty.

Chris steps forward. “No, no he can’t be. We were just with him a moment ago”

“A lot can happen quickly on this mountain”

"I'm gonna get him," Chris said with determination. "I’m supposed to be his best friend and i let him down"

“Then i’ll go with you” the man said, offering Chris a rifle to fight if needed.

Chris takes a deep breath, steeling himself and holding the rifle tightly to his chest as he stares at the door, the stranger next to him and ready to leave to rescue Josh. Just as he's about to turn away, he notices you and Mike standing together. Mike's arm is still around you but you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, leaning in close to murmur something to him. His face softens and he reluctantly lets you go, his hand lingering for a moment longer.

You walk toward Chris, your movements slow but steady, the worst of your injuries seeming to fade, the pain dulled and it gives you a chance to run again thanks to the man’s help. You hold up a hand for a high five, grinning just a bit. "Be careful out there, alright?"

Chris smirks, the familiar glint of humor in his eyes. "Hey, you know me. Careful my middle name." He claps your hand, his expression softening slightly. "We'll get through this."

Your gaze shifts to the stranger, a silent expression of gratitude in your eyes as you give him a slight nod. He meets your gaze, there's a faint hint of acknowledgment in the way he inclines his head.

Turning back, you move toward Mike. You catch sight of Ashley leaning against the wall, her gaze fixed on Chris with a strange, distant expression, something that you never saw on her when together with Chris. You pause, opening your mouth to ask her if she's alright, but she steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder to help you back toward Mike.

You give her a small nod, something unsettled lingering in your mind but you let it go as she guides you back to Mike. You feel his hand slip around your waist again, steady and reassuring, his warmth grounding you as you settle beside him, leaning into his side as he guides you to the basement with the others.

The atmosphere in the basement is heavy with silence, an oppressive weight settling over everyone. You were sitting down on one of the tables there, looking at all the cameras present there together with Sam and Emily. The door creaks open, and Ashley stumbles down, followed closely by Mike. You can see immediately the way his face is drawn, his eyes hollow, a deep sadness etched into every line.

He looks at you, the pain in his gaze made you fear the worst. "Chris... he didn't make it," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath.

You feel the ground shift beneath you, the words sinking in with an ache so sharp it feels physical. Chris, your friend, is gone. Your throat tightens and the reality of the situation claws at you, an emptiness that leaves you hollow.

Ashley stands frozen, her face pale and expressionless. Emily immediately moves to her side, reaching for her hands, while Sam steps forward, her voice soft with sympathy. "Ash... I'm so sorry."

Ashley shakes her head, her jaw clenched as she stares past them, her eyes glassy with shock. "I'm fine," she insists, her voice hollow and distant, "I'm fine."

Sam's voice is soft, cautious as she looks at Mike. "What about the man with the flamethrower? Did... did he make it?"

Mike shakes his head, his voice a low, haunted murmur. "Didn’t see him coming back. He's dead, too."

The walls seem to close in and Mike moves with big steps towards you and hold you tightly, pulling you closer, "I’m so sorry”. His hand moves gently to your back, tracing soothing circles, his fingers trembling slightly.

You find yourself melting into his touch, his hold a balm to the raw pain in your chest.

Mike began searching around the place and on the cameras to look for any possible other escape. Josh had the key for the cable car. The wendigos might have taken him to the sanatorium and he declared he will go there to get them and save him.

All of your friends group around the table to analyze the map left by the man, talking about the mines and the sanatorium.

You’re too deep in thoughts to participate in it. You felt tears ready to spill down from your eyes as you kept thinking about Chris and the man’ deaths.

“Em... Em, what is that?” Ashley's tone of voice was concerning. You looked up in time to see all of your friends slowly backing away from Emily as she kept a hand on her shoulder.

You got down from the table and wiped away the tears on your eyes. Stepping closer but stopping when you noticed blood seeping through her shoulder.

“Ash...” Emily began to talk, her gaze moving towards everyone as she carefully thought about her next words

“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god! Oh, no, oh, no!” Ashely was freaking out as her gaze moved back and forth to Mike and Emily.

“It’s nothing. It just- it bit me and-“ Emily tried to explain but Ashley's loud voice interrupted her again.

“It bit you? What bit you?!”

You took another step closer while Ashley grew increasingly agitated with each word.

“The...ah... the wendigo,” Emily stammered, her voice trembling with fear rather than conviction. “It’s nothing, really. It’s not a big deal—it doesn’t hurt anymore, not really.”

Mike takes a step back "Em... if that thing bit you..."

“I know what you’re thinking and i’m fine” she took a step forwards and expanded her hands towards Mike but he backed away, his arm moving in front of you to shield you from her as he stepped away.

“Emily at least let us check it out,” Sam told her quietly, hoping to calm her down.

“Emily... if the wendigo bit you, you could turn into one of those things” Mike told her as he kept his arm in front of you.

“Oh that’s ridiculous” Sam said, her voice rising in frustration as she stepped forward to intervene. But Ashley sharply spoke again, her expression a mix of desperation and impatience.

“He said it was from EATING each other- remember, he said that! It happens if it bites you, you’re gonna turn into one of those things and you’re gonna turn in on us. Oh my god. Oh, my god! OH MY GOD”

Was it really like that? The man told you that it happened if someone committed cannibalism but he never told you about bites or other things like that. Was it just common knowledge and he didn’t told you because it was oblivious?

You took a step forward and felt pain radiating on your shoulder. A whimper of pain was heard through your closed lips and Mike turned around immediately, his arm outstretched in front of you while slowly moving you behind him as he positions himself between you and the perceived threat.

“You can’t be down here with us. You gotta go. You’re putting us ALL in danger” Mike told Emily firmly, no hesitation on his face or voice.

“Like hell I am!” This was the first time you saw Emily this desperate.

“Mike, just cool your head, okay? We don’t know how it works, maybe it’s just a bite” Sam said, her voice steady but edged with concern, though the unease in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t entirely convinced herself.

“What is this? Guys, what are you doing” Emily looked more and more scared the longer she looked around at all of you.

“Door’s right there. I’m letting you doing this voluntarily” Mike spoke firmly at her.

“Oh, no. You’re just doing this to make yourself feel better about sending me to my death because you know there’s a wendigo out there ready to rip me to pieces like it did with-“

“OKAY, OH MY GOD! WILL YOU JUST GO?! GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” Ashley screamed at the top of her lungs, voice full of frustration and terror at this point.

Mike move towards the table and took the gun, pointing it at Emily who immediately backed away in shock.

“Whoa,whoa-whoa- Mike! Calm down!” Sam tried to intervene but Mike pushed her away, his arm pulling you behind him protectively as his other hand kept pointing the gun at Emily.

“You’re gonna shoot me?” Emily crawled on top of the table until her back hit the wall, desperately trying to get away from the situation. “Mike...? Me?”

“This is the safe room, Em. And it’s not safe as long as you’re in it. Not for us!”

“Don- don’t do this!” Her voice broke on the last word, her hands reaching out as if she could somehow stop him.

“I’m really sorry” Mike choked out, his voice trembling with regret, the words barely escaping through a veil of anguish. His hands shook as he gripped the weapon, his heart pounding in his chest as he took a step forward. His finger pressed the revolver’s cylinder, rotating it to prepare the next shot.

Tell Mike Not to Shoot Emily. She's still Emily, still herself... isn't she? The fear is there, yes, but a part of you knows this isn't right.

Support Mike no matter what he chooses. The thought of Emily becoming one of those things, of putting Mike in danger, fills you with a dread so deep it nearly leaves you breathless.

Your heart pounded as memories surged through your mind, vivid and relentless of the wendigo’s claws tearing through your body as it dragged you into the unknown. You remembered the helplessness, the horror, the feeling of being trapped in a nightmare you couldn't escape.

Now, the thought of Mike facing anything remotely close to that horror because of a single hesitation sent fear clawing at your chest. You wanted to believe Emily; she was one of you, someone you'd shared memories with. But what if she did turn? What if Mike's hesitation meant losing him?

Support Mike

You lean closer, your voice soft, trembling, barely a whisper. “I trust you, Mike. Whatever you think is best... I'll stand by you."

A subtle shimmer appears, almost like a faint trick of light, the beat of butterfly wings sending ripples into the unknown.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

Your words seemed to reach him, settling into something deep inside. The fear in his eyes hardened into something resolute. He was reminded of the bruises on your face, the cuts on your skin, the exhaustion in your frame as you spoke softly at him. You were still recovering, still weak from the encounter. In the state you were in, you wouldn't be able to defend yourself if she turned into one of those things.

He can't let her be a threat.

The shot rings out, sharp and final, echoing through the room. The bullet made contact with her left eye, ending her life on spot and smearing the wall behind her with blood.

“Oh, shit... oh, shit... oh, shit. What the fuck did i just do?” Mike lets the gun fall from his hands, his expression haunted, his eyes flicking to you.

You reach for his hand, gripping it tightly.

“You’re safe... you guys are safe. I had to do it” he looked around, searching for reassurance, for some sign that he did the right thing.

Ashley backs away, shocked and terrified to look at him despite being the one ready from the start to make Emily leave the room.

“I’m going to get the keys from Josh. I’ll... I'll come back here.” He began to back away “you guys are safe... it’s over...” he let go of your hand, looking at you desperately one last time before turning away.

You watched him go with a worried expression. Sam came close to you, her hand resting on your shoulder as she looked with you where Mike went to get what was needed to let you escape this nightmare of a place.

From behind, you heard Ashley panicking again as she mumbled under her breath. She was sitting on the opposite side of a table reading what you assumed to be the diary of the stranger

“What? What does it say?” You and Sam stepped forward together until you were right next to her.

“It says... well... if it bites you it’s not infectious. It doesn’t do anything”

Sam took the book in her hands, looking briefly at Emily’s dead body and whispering her name softly. A tear about to spill from her eyes.

You peeked over Sam’s shoulder as she read the last page pf the diary. It talked about all the wendigos trapped inside the sanatorium.

Mike was going to fall right into a trap.

“We need to get to Mike” Sam said firmly, tossing the book aside as you and her made your way to Mike.

The dim, echoing tunnels of the mine stretch before you, the air is thick with dust and the faint metallic tang of rust. Mike is beside you, keeping close, his eyes darting around as if searching for any sign of danger, while Sam moves slightly behind you, her flashlight casting shadows that flicker and dance against the rock.

A small lake was blocking your path. The frigid water sending a chill just from looking at it.

"Guess we don't have much of a choice," Sam murmurs, voice tight.

You nod, sharing a glance with Mike, whose gaze is steady but filled with the same dread. Together, you step into the water, the cold biting instantly as it soaks through your clothes. It seeps up your legs, then higher, numbing everything it touches. By the time the water reaches your waist, your muscles are tense, your breaths sharp and shuddering from the sheer chill.

You could help but mutter something about how you were freezing your ass, teeth chattering as you trudge forward and earning a small chuckle from Sam, suffering as well from the extreme low temperature of the water.

A solid surface came ahead and you all got up from there.

Sam spots something on the ground and in the glow of her flashlight, you see a small, battered notebook, its cover dusty and worn but unmistakably familiar. It's Hannah's diary, you recognized her handwriting.

The three of you huddle close, drawn in by the painful intimacy of her words. The cold, the hunger and the maddening isolation as she struggled to survive in the mines with a broken leg. She stayed here for around a month.

“Oh god... it makes sense. I think... Hannah dug up Beth. It was Hannah. Beth died in the fall- so Hannah must have buried her“ Sam pieced everything together”

“God-dammit” Mike muttered in disbelief.

“She would have been starving... she would have been desperate-“

The implication of what it meant twisted your stomach, bringing back flashes of the memory from that night. You feel the cold seep through your skin, but it's not the chill of the mines.

It's the haunting weight of regret.

Mike's voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone gentle. "Hey... you okay?" He's watching you, his gaze filled with concern.

Lie. You could brush it off, tell them it's just the cold getting to you. It would be easy, just a few words to keep the truth hidden, to protect yourself from the shame that threatens to overwhelm you. But the guilt would stay buried, festering, a constant reminder of what you did and chose to keep hidden.

Confess. You could let it out, finally release the burden you've been carrying. Admit that you saw Hannah that night, that you knew about the prank but chose not to warn her. This choice would mean exposing yourself but it might also allow you to find a sense of forgiveness. A chance for honesty and maybe a path toward healing.

The truth gnaws at you, clawing its way to the surface, refusing to stay buried. You can't keep it hidden any longer.

Confess

Taking a shaky breath, you look at Mike and Sam, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you. I saw Hannah that night. Right before... everything. She asked me if I knew where Mike was and I didn't tell her about the prank." Your voice cracks, raw with the pain of holding back the truth. "I could've warned her and stopped it. This is all my fault."

The silence stretches as your confession hangs in the cold air. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your chest tightening as the weight of it crashes over you.

Mike's hand tightens on your shoulder and he looks at you with a softness that you didn't expect. "This isn't all on you. I shouldn't have gone along with the prank in the first place." His voice is laced with regret. "If anyone's to blame, it's me."

Sam's hand finds yours, squeezing gently. "You made a mistake but we all did. I should have found her faster. I should have insisted more on stopping that prank. None of us were perfect that night."

Her words are like a balm, gentle but unwavering, her empathy wrapping around you as she holds your gaze. The three of you share a moment of quiet solidarity, bound together by the shared regret.

You all continue moving through the mines. Mike's hand brushes against yours as you move inside the water.

"So... you were jealous?" His tone is playful, laced with his usual teasing, as if trying to lighten the atmosphere.

You roll your eyes, feeling the corner of your lips curve upward. "It was like a year ago, alright? And yeah, I was jealous."

Mike grins, his eyebrow quivering as he nudges you gently. "And how long were you crushing on me?" He leans a little closer, his voice dropping to a low, flirtatious murmur.

Sam, walking just behind, groans in mock exasperation and from the cold water. "Could you two get a room already? I really don't need to be the third wheel right now."

"Sorry, Sam." You laugh, feeling the last remnants of tension ease from your shoulders.

Eventually, you could hear Josh mumbling to himself, his eyes wild, his expression a chaotic mix of fear and mania.

"Josh!" Sam calls, her voice gentle but firm. "Josh, it's us."

He doesn't respond, muttering incoherently, his gaze distant, as if lost in a nightmare he can't escape. “He’s tripping or something” Mike muttered to himself before giving him a slap to snap him out of his stupor. "Josh!"

Josh blinks, his gaze slowly refocusing on the three of you, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes. "Don’t h-hit me, p-please-"

“You were deep in it, man. Full metal jacket”

“Josh, Hannah was down there for weeks... a month?! She dug Beth up” she was on the verge of crying and you stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

"We need the keys," you said gently, trying to keep him calm. "The keys to the cable car, do you have them?"

Josh's hand trembles as he digs into his pocket, pulling out the keys and handing them to Sam. She pockets them and glances toward the slope leading up to the surface.

"That's our way out," she says, her voice filled with determination.

Mike shakes his head, glancing at Josh. "He's not going to make it up there. We'll have to go back the way we came."

Sam nods, though her face is etched with worry. She looks at you, assessing your condition with a careful gaze. "Think you can handle the climb? I can help you up if you need."

Mike steps in, his hand brushing your arm as he looks at you. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone soft, but there's a hint of worry in his eyes.

You nod, meeting his gaze with a steady look. "I can handle it. Sam's got my back in case”

He hesitates, his grip tightening on your arm, his gaze flickering with a hint of reluctance. Then, with a soft sigh, he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hand lingering on your cheek as he pulls back, his voice a whisper only you can hear. "Be careful, alright? I want to see that handsome face of yours back at the lodge."

You smile, brushing a hand over his. "You too, Mike. Don't do anything stupid."

He chuckles, the sound soft but tinged with a bittersweet edge. "Stupid? Me? Never." He winks, a smirk playing on his lips, though his gaze holds a flicker of sadness.

He knelt down to help both you and Sam with the first push to start climbing and with one last look, he turns back to Josh, his hand gesturing to the direction to get out of the mines.

You and Sam exchange a determined nod before turning to the steep climb. Every movement is careful and calculated, each foothold chosen with precision as you make your way up.

The climb back to the surface is grueling, every muscle in your body aching, but the sight of moonlight filtering through the cracks above fills you with a surge of determination. Sam pulls herself up beside you, panting but grinning as she looks over at you with a playful gleam in her eye.

"That was just like a climbing class, right?" she quips, giving you a nudge.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, except with a lot more life-or-death stakes," you reply, matching her tone with a smirk.

She lets her hand fall onto your shoulder, her fingers gently squeezing as she takes a moment to study your face. “You did good,” she says, her voice a soothing contrast to the chaos you’d just survived. “Not a single complaint, even when you looked like you were about to pass out.”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her. “Do I really look that bad?” you ask, the question coming out more tired than you’d intended. The last time you saw your reflection was before you were dragged away from Mike, leaving your body feeling like it had been run through a blender. You knew there were cuts, scrapes, and bruises all over your body. The left side of your cheek throbbed painfully whenever you touched it and you could feel the stickiness of dried blood against your lips.

She gives you a small, teasing smile, a spark of humor glinting in her eyes. “Nah,” she says, her voice light but sincere. “It makes you look tough. I can guarantee you, Mike would approve of me without hesitation.”

A tired smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Despite the exhaustion in your bones and the tremble in your legs, you can’t help but feel a small spark of gratitude for her presence, appreciating her support as the two of you move forward and towards the lodge.

A bone-chilling scream pierces the air from behind you. You can feel the presence of something behind you, its screeches growing louder.

The two of you bolt toward the lodge, every step pounding with adrenaline without looking back until you reach the lodge. You pound on the door with both fists, your heart hammering as you shout for someone inside to let you in. You feel the tremor in your hands, the knowledge that every second spent outside is a second closer to whatever horror is chasing you.

Then, a figure from behind calls for your name.

Mike.

Relief floods through you as he steps forward, grabbing you in a fierce hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breaths shallow and shaky as he presses his face against your shoulder and allows himself to rest for just a second.

Sam picks up a rock, smashing it against the window of the door to unlock it. With a final glance behind, the three of you slip inside.

“And Josh?” Your voice suddenly small, a tremor running through it as you glance at him.

He lowers his gaze. It’s a look that sends an icy chill through you, the kind of look that makes your stomach twist in dread. “It got him”

Your breath catches, you feel sick to your stomach, cold in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature around you.

Sam’s shoulders sag, her face twisting with anguish as she drops her eyes to the ground. ”Ohh, god, what an awful way to go...” she mutters, her voice thick with disbelief and grief.

“What do you think we should do now?”

“We should check the basement, might be someone left down there”

Descending down the stairs to the basement, the only thought passing inside your mind was that there was no time to mourn yet. Help will soon be on the way. You just have to survive just a bit longer.

The door of the basement cracks open and three wendigos are there. Their emaciated bodies twisted and contorted, creeping forward with a surprising speed.

Ashley was no longer there.

Mike takes hold of your hand and with Sam behind, you all backtrack to the main lobby. Mike suddenly halts and tugs harshly at your arm to block you in the track.

"Don't move. Don’t fucking move muscle." His voice a hoarse whisper.

Your heart pounds as you follow his gaze and that's when you see it. A wendigo, tall and twisted, perched on the wooden chandelier above. You caught a glimpse of the butterfly tattoo on its arm. This was Hannah. She was no longer recognizable, skin stretched taut over skeletal limbs, her hollow eyes scanning the room with a terrifying intensity.

𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓂ℴ𝓋ℯ

Fear grips you, cold and unrelenting, as you force yourself to stay still. You can feel every tremor in your muscles, the effort it takes to control your breathing, to keep from trembling as the creature shifts, her claws scraping against the wood.

The wendigos from the basement emerge to the main lobby. One of them lunges at Hannah, and in a flash of brutality, she catches it’s leg and throws it first against the wooden stairs and then against the chimney, causing one of the gas pipes to break. Another one attacks her from upstairs but despite the height advantage her claws successfully sink into its neck and decapitate it with little effort.

Your eyes flick to Mike, his face drawn tight with focus as he inches toward the lightbulb switch while keeping an eye on the distracted wendigo.

Then you see the last wendigo from the basement perched on the wooden railing near you, its blind eyes scanning and it's facing Mike. Every step he is making is putting him in danger.

Save Mike. Do anything in your power to distract the monster from him. Anything to protect Mike, even if it means putting yourself in danger.

Run. Save yourself. The path is clear. No wendigos are paying attention to you. Just a quick turn around, a chance to escape. You could save yourse—

Save Mike

You raise your foot and press it down onto the floor, letting it creak just enough to attract the wendigo's attention. The creature snaps its head towards you, the hollow gaze empty and yet focused, its twisted limbs twitching as it crawls toward you, its movements disturbingly animalistic.

𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓂ℴ𝓋ℯ

The wendigo creeps closer, its body contorted, moving on all fours with a disturbing grace, each shift of its limbs slow and deliberate, its clawed hands digging into the wooden floor. You can see its sunken eyes, the stretched skin pulled tight over a jaw filled with teeth too sharp, too numerous.

Just as it seems to lose interest, it shifts, turning toward the stairs, drawn by a new sound. Hannah’s form looming over it as her hollow gaze fixes on it, ready to fight.

You see Sam from the corner of your eye, moving silently toward the door, hiding behind the remnants of overturned furniture. Hannah close in on her hiding spot, her bodies coiled with an unnatural tension, ready to strike.

Your heart pounds in your chest, its frantic rhythm deafening in your ears as your body locks in place, paralyzed by terror.

Mike has backed away and reached your position. His hand slips into yours, his grip firm as he starts to pull you toward the door. His gaze remains fixed on the wendigos, unwavering, every muscle in his body tense with vigilance. His attention flickers only briefly to Sam, a silent worry in his eyes matching yours.

Just as you're inches from the door, Sam's scream cuts through the silence. Your blood freezes. Panic surges through you as you turn around.

Hannah’s grotesque hand shoots out, grasping Sam's face and yanking her up in the air as she struggles to break free. In one brutal, swift motion, Hannah's arm pierces Sam's body, tearing through her.

Her scream pierced the air, and then... silence. Sam's body goes slack, her eyes glazing over as the light fades from them. Hannah lets her crumple to the floor, lifeless.

Tears burn in your eyes, blurring your vision as your breath comes in ragged gasps. You clutch Mike's hand harder, your fingers digging into his skin, as the crushing weight of Sam's death settles over you, the weight of loss heavy on your heart. You feel Mike's hand squeezing yours back, his body tensed beside you but his face filled with grief and helplessness.

The two wendigos turn, their hollow eyes finding you and Mike, and they begin to move, their twisted limbs carrying them forward with terrifying speed.

"I'm sorry, Hannah," you whisper as your gaze locks onto Hannah's, the words slipping out, soft but filled with regret at what you did to her.

Mike steps forward as he reaches for the light switch. The moment he flicks it, a spark ignites, and the room erupts in a blinding explosion. The force sends you and Mike flying backward, his arms wrapping around you protectively as the two of you crash to the ground, the shockwave rattling through your bones as the lodge goes up in flames.

You lie there on top of Mike, the world spinning as the roaring fire consumes what remains of the lodge.

In the distance, you hear the faint whir of helicopter blades, the sound growing louder, accompanied by a voice echoing through the smoke. "We've got survivors."

The harsh fluorescent lights overhead cast a sterile glow in the police station room, making everything feel painfully real.

The officer across from you studies you with a quiet intensity, his face neutral, but his eyes carry a weight that tells you he knows he's about to hear something he won't easily forget.

“I... I was grabbed and dragged through the woods. I thought I wouldn't make it, but then this man showed up. He had a flamethrower... he saved my life and he... he died trying to save a friend of mine” You recount everything, the words spilling out in uneven breaths as you described the twisted nightmare that unfolded in the mountains.

When you finish, the silence stretches out, heavy and unnerving, until the officer leans forward, his gaze intense.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss," he says, his tone carefully measured. "We recovered multiple bodies from the lodge after the explosion. One is severely burned, difficult to identify, but we believe it was one of your friends." He pauses, watching your reaction. "From what we could determine, she was shot."

The words sink in, your stomach twisting as you realize he's talking about Emily.

The officer's gaze sharpens, his voice low but probing. "Your boyfriend already told one of my colleagues what happened, but... I want to hear it from you. Can you tell me why he did it?"

His question hangs in the air, pressing down on you with a weight that's almost suffocating.

Tell the truth. You could tell the officer everything, lay bare the paranoia and fear that drove you all, admit that Mike had acted out of a desperation to protect all of you, even at the cost of a friend. This would leave Mike exposed, vulnerable to judgment and consequences that he might not deserve.

Protect Mike with a half-truth. You could bend the truth just enough to shield him, craft a version that holds the essence of what happened but protects him from the harshest scrutiny. You could tell the officer that Emily was on the verge of turning, and that Mike's decision was one made in self-defense for everyone. After all, Mike had a clue the bite wasn’t infectious. This would keep Mike safe.

You think of Mike, his face as he'd held the gun, the determination and anguish mingling as he made the choice to protect all of you. The quiet nights, the endless texts that bridged the miles between you when life pulls you in different directions. The inside jokes that only the two of you understood, the late-night conversations. You remember the way he’d stood by you through everything. The way he would always try to make you smile when you were having a bad day, the sound of his voice calling your name in a crowd, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered. The memory of him chasing after you through the woods risking everything to save you.

Protect Mike

"There were other... things in that lodge, things that weren't human. I don't know if you've recovered them yet, but I'm sure you'll find them."

The officer's brow furrows slightly, as if considering the implications of your words. "We... found some burned bodies in the lodge. They were deformed, impossible to identify." His words trail off, as though he's reluctant to admit what he's seen.

You steady yourself, forcing your voice into a calm, controlled tone as you look back at the officer. "Emily was infected. She was about to turn into one of those things. Mike acted in self-defense for all of us, he was trying to protect us." The officer's face remains impassive, though you see a flicker of skepticism in his eyes.

You lean forward, pulling the crumpled photo from your pocket, the one the stranger had given you of the man twisted by the wendigo curse, the monstrous transformation captured in horrifying detail. You hand it to the officer, your hand trembling as you do.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

"These... things aren't human. It wasn't her anymore. Mike did his best at saving us."

The officer studies the photograph, his expression shifting from skepticism to something darker, more troubled. He nods slowly, his gaze flicking back to you, and there's a note of respect in his tone as he speaks. "We'll look into it. Thank you for sharing this. We’ll keep it in mind for the investigation." He slips the photo into his folder, his expression thoughtful as he regards you one last time.

You hesitate, your voice soft but filled with a quiet desperation. "Could I see Mike?"

The officer studies you for a long moment, taking in the bruises on your skin, the exhaustion etched into every line of your face, and the pleading look in your eyes. He sighs, standing up and nodding toward the door. "Come with me."

You follow him through the narrow hallway, your heart pounding with every step as you finally catch sight of Mike, seated outside another interview room, his head bowed, hands clutched together. The exhaustion on his face is evident but the moment he sees you, his face transforms, relief flooding over him like a wave.

You barely have time to process before he's standing, crossing the short distance to you in a few strides and wrapping his arms around you in a fierce embrace. His grip is tight, his body trembling as he pulls you close, his breath hitching as he presses his face into your shoulder.

"It's over now," you whisper, voice barely audible as you press closer. "We're safe. It's finally over."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with fierce determination. He’ll never let anything happen to you ever again.

The two of you sit together in silence, your hands intertwined, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gentle, steady rhythm. You can barely bring yourself to look at him, feeling the guilt gnaw at you. All of your friends died and it was your fault

His arms then pull you in closer and you lean into him, not saying anything because no words seem to make the guilt any lighter. But, in that moment, with his arms around you, there’s a strange sense of relief. No matter what happens next, at least you’re not alone.

ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓅𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹

I really love all the characters in this game, and honestly, it was painful to write their deaths. But I wanted to try something different this time. I hope it didn’t make the story less enjoyable to read—it wasn’t my intention at all. If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3

[jackiequick]

Bonds were made | Agents of SHIELD Fanfic

Pairing: Amelia Parker & Grant Ward

Timeline: Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Agents Of S.H.I.E.L.D. (2013-2020)

Summary: Sometimes the person you see so much respect and kindness for, isn’t the one who you expect it to be. Doesn’t matter how different you may seem, it’s this challenge to themselves and you are going through the process together.

Characters mentioned: Phil Coulson, Melinda May, Natasha Romanoff, Mockingbird, and others

Setting: During SHIELD Academy

—————

Her heart was racing. Pumping. Hunched over her knees as she squeezed her eyes shut. It was late. The sun was coming down. Close to the dead of night. Her phone was buzzing as she let out a deep breath and glared at the guy in front of her.

He chuckled, wearing hid dark clothes and shook his head watching her. Glancing over at the street light, choking on the heat as the world spins around as they’re frozen on the top of the street.

“What you looking at, Ward?” She yelled, as her glares softened as she tossed a water bottle and he lead her to sit down on the bench nearby.

“Nothing.” He repiled, placing a gentle hand on her back and gave her a certain amount of time to rest.

“I can’t do this. I give up. Can we go home? Please?”

“No, sweetheart. This is what it’s all about. You need to build up your own strength and stamina.”

“Now it just feels like I’m not getting everywhere. I’m done.”

“You just started! What are you gonna do when the real mission comes, huh?”

She gave him an odd look and scoffed chuckling, “Stand behind a set of computers and code my way across the hardware. Sitting!”

“Ames, you said it yourself last week. You want to be versatile! Be a field agent and get out there on the action. I’ve seen it before, you can run and give a good punch to defend yourself.” He replied with an certified look.

“That was different, Grant! I was trying to escape stores, get away from cops and stuff.”

“No, it’s the same thing! You gotta—no, we gotta make this a challenge.”

“More challenging than it is?”

“Yes! You gotta race me, y-you wanna race me? Make it a bet!”

“You’re serious? Your not kidding me, right? Cause you like to cheat sometimes to get me riled up!”

“That’s my point! I gotta find your center to get you moving and want to keep going. I think I know exactly what makes you go for the moment! You do too.”

“…I see your point! Make the connection, search for what they want and stand your ground. That’s how I get it.”

Grant just grinned at her words. He only spent a short few weeks with Amelia but she was something else, she always wanted understand the assignment and plays with the ball she’s given. Something he didn’t have to teach her, she just knows.

Just like him.

It surprised him how young she was but how she tended to keep herself grounded. It like playing a game with her, making sense of what she meant and wants. There was a difference she carried in the way she wanted to things and the balance she tried to keep.

However he always needs to keep her up float, it was his self defense and self doubt she carried but hid behind very well.

He respected it, a lot.

Amelia grinning ear to ear. It was this sweetness she carried, this childlike attitude towards others, wanting to see them in a different light. She always knew she saw something different in Ward. The determination, the guilt of challenging himself to do better for someone can give a chance and the away he treated others.

The self doubt, keeping everything leveled and an confidence she saw in him.

It amazes her how he balanced it all so young.

He carried this look on his face like he gave everyone the cold shoulder, but he really just wanted to see what they’re made of. It’s hard for him to let loose and not be so serious with her, due to way he were so different. But it’s this challenge Amelia had with him, to keep Grant bouncing around and smile where his shoulders dropped in relief, keep him in a position to breathe.

She respected him, so much. She seen the tapes of him in action and honestly she would trust Grant Ward with her life.

She love t—

“Amelia?” He asked with a smile, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Hm?” She repiled with a little smile.

“Do you trust me enough, to race against me?”

“Well you do trust me enough to get the job done?”

His smile grew with a nod, “Yeah, I do.”

“Good. I do too.” She replied this time with a bigger smile.

~~~~

Do you trust me?

Little did they know that one line, would be the thing that chained the relationship they would have.

The bond that would make and break them..

~~~~

The bet, or more like the challenge, Grant made to race down 2–3 blocks and make a left onto a few streets as they would reach the step to the museum.

The Metropolitan Museum Of Art to be exact.

Amelia found it to be sounding easy enough, jumping in pace to hype herself up as she popped in her earbuds. Grant found it funny at first and sorta cute that she needed music to get the job done, but he couldn’t blame her. Music alway make everything better as he decided to join on the fun and throw on his headphones.

There a timer on both phones for 15 minutes tops.

Once the countdown started, Amelia speeded off a second half quicker than Grant who smirked at her pace. The two started out going down the same direction across the blocks, becoming careful for people who were walking around and watching traffic.

It was going well. Hearts racing, beats pumping in their ears as Amelia glanced at timer and tried following Grant. He was more athletic than her, so it made it tricky for her to keep up.

“Keep up slow poke!” Grant yelled, flip to start pacing back and sending her a small wave.

His real test was to see her determination and agility to keep up with the task, like running towards a con artist for example. In his eyes, she wasn’t doing bad so far as he turned back to run the correct way.

She sighed taking a breath and grunted, “Ohh—not fair!”

She on the other hand was testing his strategy a bit, since Amelia thought of taking a short cut past a few people and across the street, since sometime you had to take a little detour to get somewhere.

So she whistled at him and pacing over to the around a group of people, sending way at Ward. He rolled his eyes as she then race off.

———

But Amelia Parker being well..Amelia Parker. She didn’t think her idea would thoroughly lead her towards an narrow end. There were buildings, fire escapes, people walking from different backgrounds, alleyways, dogs, and vehicles passing by her.

“Shit..” She muttered, whined as she started wondering where Ward went and added, “..stupid Parker..”

The girl decided to climb up a fire escape nearby an apartment complex close to a few store, such as H&M and Rainbow, hoping she can get a better look. It kinda stunk due to the dumpsters close by.

She took to the top of one of the buildings, feeling a little fuzzy and groans at the garbage. 

However once she over the smell, using her phone Amelia zoned in and saw the somewhat crowded streets followed by, the lovely Metropolitan Museum so close. Her location wasn’t so far away, so she glad.

She even saw Grant running before noticing she wasn’t behind him. He looked confused for a moment, almost terrified he lost her amongst the audience of people and started playing back his latest memory as he run off.

Amelia on the other hand shrugged, texting Grant she was on her way sooner rather later. It was looking pretty good until Amelia started to get down the stairs to fire escape she saw it. Both guy, around the 18 or so, jogging up to the alleyway floor started to lock eyes with her.

She tried getting down as quick as possible and jump over to the dumpsters for higher level. But she was too late as they were speeding up towards, about to jump down when they started shaking the latter.

The girl paced herself, taking a breathing trying to fight them off using whatever was nearby to hit them as she jumped down the latter.

She was new to this whole thing, fighting off more than one person and finding their weak spots. But still Amelia tried her best, being pushed and tossed onto the groundwork by one of them guys.

“Guys, come on! C-can we talk about this? Huh?” She asked, douching a hit and grabbed a glass bottle to use as a weapon.

But before one of the guys could swing tightly over her face, he was pulled back against the top of his head and whacked hard stumbling backwards. There was one holding Amelia by the side, letting her go and tossing the girl onto the ground.

She stumbles, standing up against the dumpster and gagged at the smell balancing herself then swinging the glass bottle across his guys head. She hit him so hard he was knocked out cold.

“Ames?!” Yelled the rough voice of her partner of the race.

She turned over to face him, as she connected the dots that it was him who whacked the first guy in the head so hard. Grant just finished fighting him off and grunted, racing over to her helping her stand.

“H-hey, hey, look at me. You okay?” He asked, worry in his eyes as he gently takes her face in his hand searching for damage, “Where did the bastards hurt you?”

“Heheh you really fought him for me, huh?” She replies, with a dry laugh giving him a half smile as she looked at his face.

All Amelia saw were the small bruises, snatches and shiner that could form anytime soon on his face. His hoodie fell off as his chest was still huffing. She never saw him worried before, but then again she just got attacked in an alley.

Grant didn’t realized he was taking her face in his hand and search for damages in just a concerned way. He saw the small bruises on her arms. As well as tiny snatches on her face.

“Damn it, Ames!” He grunted, huffing at her humorous laugh and half smile, “You’re hurt. Where does it hurt?”

“I’m fine now and don’t be concerned or blame yourself. It’s part of..training, getting hurt and standing up right?” She replied, running her thumb over his jaw to notice the bruise there.

“You took a detour and got attacked in the process. Of course, I’m concerned!Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay! You saved me, didn’t you?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am i.”

“Always a humorous moment with you, isn’t there?”

“Mhm!”

“Ames, I’m not kidding!”

“I’m fine, your hurt too. A pretty strong attack to the face..a-are you okay?”

“I’ve been hurt far more worse than that. So I’m alright. Coulson’s gonna kill us..”

“He doesn’t have to find out, unless we don’t say anything..”

“At least we’re not bleeding to death, so that’s a plus..”

“I hate you, a lot.”

“Aw, i love you too.”

She huffed pushing the hair out of her face and smirked. He sighed deeply shaking his head, seeing the look in her eyes and returned the smirk.

“No, don’t. You are not going continue the race against me.” He told her with a certain look, smiling softly.

“Come on, we might as well get the job done. Do you trust me to keep going with your challenge?” She asked him with a small grin.

“Serious? Okay I’ll bite. Do you trust me when i say we’re gonna regret this in the morning?”

“Possibly. But um, are we still itching to get it done..i hope..”

“God. One last lap to the museum, Ames. I mean it.” 

“Yes! Then off to 7-11 for pizza and extra water bottles…and um, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Having my back.”

~~~~

He smiled at that, hearing those words.

Parker was a wordsmith with a smile that can make or break something inside someone.

He understood that. It’s something that could help or hurt a person, make you want to watch your step.

Almost like Coulson.

Damn.

She returned the same smile, watching his face considering her words.

Ward was a engineer with his attitude that can sending you spiraling down a wormhole of questions and a smile that can lead you down a certain path.

She knew that. It was this skill level and an great balancing act with a mind that help or hurt you if you mess up. 

As close to Agent May or even Romanoff.

Shit.

~~~~

And once again they were off.

Racing against one another, keeping up the pace watching the other person’s six and matching sure they’re alright after the attack.

It was more like jogging.

Sharing tiny smiles. Grant rolled his eyes at her silly little grin as Amelia scoffed at his cheeky wink he would give in return.

Reaching the street across to the location. He stood behind her watching over to see anyone was nearby and if there was space to make the jump up the steps.

A few steps up to the top of the stairs, kneeling to take a breath and nodding as they ran gently.

Grant reach up the steps first, he smile holding out his hand for her to take. Amelia giggled softly, taking his hand gently as she was pulled into his embrace.

He was honestly proud of her and so was she.

“What you giggling at?” He asked with a smile, his arms wrapped around her shoulder as he looked down at the girl in question.

“You listened and kept going.” She replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace as she looked up at him.

“Your proud?”

“Yeah. You’re a good guy, Ward.”

“You make me feel like I’m a good guy. I’m proud of you. You passed my test.”

“Test?”

“Yeah, i wanted to see your determination and I made sure of it. You kept going even if i wasn’t on the same page about it”

“Of course, i took a page out of your book. To keep going and stop when you can’t anymore. And you passed mine, I think.”

“Hmm, i guess so. You’re gonna be a good agent some day.”

“As good as you or better?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Parker.”

He walked away from her, nodding for her to follow him as he held out an hand.

She raised an eyebrow and added, “You didn’t answer my question!”

“I didn’t need to!” He responded, waving his hand waiting for her.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Not happening.”

“Good answer.”

Amelia paced up, taking his hand gently and walked with him down the path. Grant nodded, taking the lead glancing down at her every once in a while.

As they walked down the street, he notice her smile and tiny bruises that started to take shape.

But she wasn’t angry about it nor upset with him about leading the way. It was her choice and she made a mistake, learning from it.

He knew why she is the way, she is and admired her for it. Hell, he thanked his timing and the position he was in to have her in his life.

Knowing that Amelia Parker would make a great deal of decisions one day and in result make people shine or question their tactics.

And he hopes he can be there to see it.

What happened today and the damaged that cause him to end up hurt—both of them to be hurt—it wasn’t his fault per say. He knew the risk and she knew the way he would think about it.

She noticed the smile on his face, making her own grow. She never expected to find someone like Grant Ward in her life and thanked the whole situation she was in for it.

He made a mistake not watching his back, but he will learn as the time goes and the keystone that follows along that path.

She admired that part of him, since Ward isn’t one to to make small mistakes very often and it shows her that it’s part of the job.

Knowing that Ward will have to become an leader one day, having to help a group during highly trained mission of some kind and make decisions that might cost his life or save it.

And something tells her that she might be there to see it.

___

Little did they know that those hopes and suspensions will become true.

Leading different paths within the same field and bumping into one another weather they like it or not.

But that’s an tale for another day…

——-

Thanks for reading! I wanted to write an story about this pair for a while now. I hope you enjoy it

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