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grifffins · 1 month ago

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🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 2

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: Y/N makes a questionable purchase, endures an evening of coven induced chaos, and shares an unexpectedly nice breakfast.

wc: 8.5k (Chapter 2/?)

a/n: i'm not entirely happy with this chap, but ngl i have way too much fun writing the coven, I’m sorry. The first half of this chapter is definitely coven heavy (because they’re chaotic and I love them), but don’t worry, towards the end is all about Lilia. again this one’s super dialogue heavy, which i'm not used to but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to cut any of it without hating myself. Just a quick heads-up, there’s no smut yet, but this chapter does lean into some more mature themes

Ch. 1 ch.3

also on ao3

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A week had passed since the Great Flirting Incident, and while Lilia hadn’t exactly acknowledged anything outright, I could tell something had shifted. She was watching me more closely now, little glances when she thought I wasn’t looking, the occasional pause before she called me baby like she was testing the waters. But she hadn’t made a move, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure she ever would.

So, naturally, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

It started with a simple realisation: Lilia Calderu was a woman stuck in another century. She still used a landline, still read newspapers, and still had absolutely no concept of modern convenience. I mean, she handwrites every single appointment into an actual paper planner. Who even does that anymore?

At first, it was just a passing thought, how much easier things would be for her if she had a smartphone. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect excuse to do something nice for her. Something that wasn’t just flirting but actually, you know, helpful.

Which is why I found myself standing in the phone store, staring at a sleek smartphone display, wondering if I was about to change her life or ruin mine.

By the following morning, Lilia was perched at the counter, lazily shuffling her tarot cards with that effortless grace that made my heart do embarrassing things. She glanced up as the door jingled, eyes flicking to the small shopping bag in my hand.

“What’s this?” she asked, raising a delicate brow.

I placed the bag on the counter with a triumphant grin. “It’s about time you stepped into this decade, Calderu.”

She sighed, long and suffering. “Y/n, I don’t need —”

“You do,” I interrupted, pulling out the sleek black smartphone. “This? This is a miracle. You can set appointments, track orders, and get this, stop living in the dark ages.”

Lilia stared at the device like it might bite her. “I like my dark ages.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, humour me. Think of it as an investment. For the shop.”

She exhaled dramatically but took the phone, turning it over in her hands with a look of mild disdain. “It’s so... modern. ”

“That��s the point.” I grinned. “And, because I care about y—” I stumbled, suddenly feeling awkward. “—because I care about... efficiency, I already programmed it with your contacts and the shop’s schedule.”

Lilia smirked, clearly enjoying my mortification. “Very thorough, baby.”

I flushed. “Just... try it.”

She sighed but started poking at the screen, and I watched, fascinated, as her brows furrowed in concentration. “Hmph. It’s... responsive.”

“That’s what touchscreens do.”

“Fascinating.”

I grinned, feeling victorious. “You’re welcome.”

Later that night, I sat on Agatha’s couch, nursing a drink and dramatically recounting my victory to the coven.

“She took the phone,” I said, gesturing grandly. “She even said it was fascinating. This is huge.”

Jen raised a brow. “You bought her a phone?”

“Yeah.”

Alice leaned in. “Like... an actual smartphone? ”

“Yes.”

Agatha, sipping her wine, smirked. “y/n. Baby. Darling.”

“What?”

“You have to sext her.”

I choked on my drink. “ WHAT?! ”

Billy, perched on the armrest of the couch, grinned. “I second this.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

Agatha leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “You cannot waste this opportunity.”

Alice covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God.”

Jen nodded sagely. “Listen, you’ve been pining after this woman for weeks. This is your moment.”

I gaped at them. “I bought her a phone so she could schedule tarot readings, not so I could send her—” I cut myself off, flushing furiously. “No. Not happening.”

Agatha smirked. “y/n.”

“No.”

“y/n.”

I groaned. “Guys, she doesn’t even like me like that.”

Billy scoffed. “She’s calling you baby every five minutes.”

“That’s just how she talks!”

Agatha shook her head. “Trust me, if she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t put up with your nonsense.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Jen patted my back. “Just... test the waters. Send something flirty. Nothing too intense.”

“Like what?” I mumbled into my hands.

Billy grinned. “Something like ‘Hey, Lilia. Thinking about you. And also that tarot reading you owe me.’ ”

“That’s not sexting?” I arched my brow.

Agatha shrugged. “Baby steps, y/n. Baby steps.”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. “Or you could, you know, just use the phone for its intended purpose.”

Agatha and Billy groaned in unison.

Jen smirked. “C’mon, y/n. You flirt with everyone else like it’s your day job. Why not just send a little something spicy?”

I shook my head furiously. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Then hand me your phone.”

I snatched it away, glaring. “I will murder you.”

“Fine, fine,” Agatha said, leaning back with a sigh. “But mark my words, y/n, you will crack. And when you do, I expect details.”

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch.

This was going to be a disaster.

Another morning, another shift, I found myself watching Lilia as she tapped away at her new phone with a surprising amount of focus. She was getting the hang of it faster than I’d expected, which only made me more nervous.

“Enjoying it?” I asked casually, leaning on the counter.

She glanced up, lips quirking. “It’s... useful.”

I smirked. “Told you so.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’re quite persistent, baby.”

I swallowed hard. Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.

Lilia left not long after, saying something about running errands and warning me not to rearrange her “perfectly organised” bookshelves while she was gone. I rolled my eyes, but as soon as the bell above the door chimed, I let out a breath.

I was halfway through dusting the crystal ball display when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting a message from one of the chaos gremlins I called friends, I pulled it out without thinking, only for my stomach to drop.

New message from Lilia Calderu:"This phone might be useful after all. You’ve made me quite... curious."

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

I could practically hear Agatha’s voice in my head.

You cannot waste this opportunity.

I didn’t respond to Lilia’s text. Not right away, at least. I told myself it was because I was busy, sorting inventory, helping customers, thinking about her like a lovesick idiot, but really, it was because I had no idea what to say.

"You’ve made me quite... curious."

What did that mean? Was she flirting? Was she just being her usual enigmatic self? Or was I reading too much into a perfectly innocent text from a woman who probably thought Wi-Fi was some kind of mystical energy?

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and spent the rest of the day pretending it didn’t exist.

Later that night, I gathered the coven at my place, pacing my living room as I relayed the situation.

“So she texted that, and I didn’t reply,” I finished, waving my phone around like it was cursed. “I just left her on read. ”

Agatha groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “y/n. y/n. ”

Billy gasped. “You ghosted her?”

“It’s not ghosting if it’s only been a few hours!” I argued. “I needed... I needed time. ”

Jen stared at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “To do what, exactly?”

“Panic!” I exclaimed, throwing myself onto the couch. “You don’t understand! I can flirt with anyone, anyone, but it’s Lilia. She’s... Lilia. ”

Alice, sitting beside me, patted my knee with sympathy. “We know, y/n. But if you don’t reply soon, you’re going to look weird.”

Agatha sat forward, pointing at me with a knowing smirk. “You need to sext her.”

“No!” I practically shouted, scrambling to sit up. “We are not sexting!”

Billy grinned. “You cannot miss this opportunity.”

Jen crossed her arms. “y/n. Babe. If you don’t flirt back, she’s going to think you’re not interested.”

I groaned. “I am interested. I’m just not... ready to send the big guns. ”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll start small. What’s something flirty but not too flirty?”

Billy snapped his fingers. “Tell her you were thinking about her.”

I stared. “I’m not texting that.”

Alice suggested gently, “Maybe something like... ‘What exactly are you curious about?’”

Jen nodded approvingly. “Oh, that’s good. Leaves it open-ended.”

Agatha smirked. “And suggestive.”

I pointed at Alice. “I like that one. Safe. Respectable.”

Billy huffed. “Boring.”

I took a deep breath, typing it out slowly.

Me: What exactly are you curious about?

I stared at the screen, hovering over the send button. “Okay, I sent it. Wait, no, I can’t.” I threw my phone to Alice. “You send it.”

Alice sighed but hit send. “Done.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate this. This is awful. Why do people do this?”

Agatha snickered. “Because it’s fun.”

A moment later, my phone buzzed, and the entire group froze.

Billy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, she replied already?”

I snatched my phone, heart pounding.

Lilia: You, mostly.

Silence.

Then chaos.

I just stared at the screen in pure, unadulterated panic. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

Agatha grinned like the devil herself. “You say... ‘Only mostly?’”

Alice nodded. “Yes. Play it cool.”

I nodded slowly, fingers trembling. “Okay... okay.” I typed the words, hesitated, then hit send.

A minute passed. Another buzz.

Lilia: You do tend to take up a lot of space.

Billy fell to the floor. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

Agatha cackled. “It means you’re living in her head rent-free. Y/n, if you don’t escalate this, I will.”

I groaned, pacing the room again. “Okay. Okay. I need to flirt back. How do I flirt back without looking desperate?”

Jen smirked. “You are desperate.”

Alice offered, “Maybe... ‘I hope I’m not too much trouble.’”

Agatha groaned. “Boring. Say, ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’”

“I’m not pushing it, Agatha.”

Billy grinned. “Coward.”

I sighed, typing Alice’s suggestion.

Me: I hope I’m not too much trouble.

Another buzz.

Lilia: Not yet.

I screamed into a pillow.

Agatha raised her glass. “Ladies and gentlemen... we got her.”

The next morning, I walked into the shop with my heart pounding in my chest, expecting— hoping —for some sort of acknowledgment from Lilia. Maybe a sly smile, a lingering look, or even a teasing comment about our texts.

Instead, I got... nothing.

“Morning, y/n,” she greeted me in her usual warm but distant tone, barely glancing up from rearranging a set of tarot decks.

I blinked. “Uh, morning.”

She didn’t say anything else. No mention of the texts, no coy smile, no baby. Just business as usual.

I busied myself at the counter, sneaking glances at her whenever I could. And while she seemed to be going out of her way to act normal, something was different. She stood closer to me when we worked together, her hands occasionally brushing mine when I passed her something. She touched my arm when she needed me to move, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

But she didn’t say anything about it.

Not a damn thing.

And to make things worse, she kept casually reminding me of just how much older she was.

“You wouldn’t remember,” she said with a small chuckle when I asked about an old book she was dusting off. “It’s before your time.”

When I mentioned a show I’d been watching, she waved it off with a smirk. “Oh, y/n, that’s so... modern. I remember when television didn’t have color. ”

And when I tripped over my words trying to ask her a question, she just gave me that small, infuriating smile and murmured, “Ah, youth.”

It was driving me insane.

That night, I gathered with the coven at Agatha’s, pacing the living room like a woman on the edge. “She’s driving me crazy, ” I groaned, throwing myself onto the couch dramatically.

Jen raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t mention the texts at all? ”

“Not even once! ” I threw my hands in the air. “It’s like they never happened! And yet she’s touching me more than ever, but at the same time, she keeps bringing up how ancient she is.”

Agatha smirked. “Ah, classic ‘I’m too old for you’ defense.”

Billy frowned. “Wait, you think she’s doing it on purpose?”

Alice nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like she’s trying to create distance without actually pulling away.”

I groaned into a pillow. “So what does that mean? She’s interested but scared?”

Jen hummed. “Maybe. Or she could just be screwing with you.”

Agatha sipped her wine. “Or hear me out—she’s waiting for you to push past the age thing.”

I peeked out from the pillow. “Push past it how? ”

Billy grinned. “Flirt harder.”

I sat up. “I don’t think I can flirt harder, Billy.”

Agatha leaned in with a devilish grin. “Then you make her realise age doesn’t matter.”

Jen smirked. “And how exactly does she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes gleamed. “Confidence. You show her you’re mature, and that she’s the one wasting time over nothing.”

I frowned. “And if she’s genuinely not interested?”

Alice squeezed my hand. “Then at least you’ll know for sure.”

Billy nudged me. “Look, the way she texts you... she’s interested, y/n. No way she’s not.”

I sighed. “I just... I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “y/n. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s hesitant. There’s a difference.”

Jen nodded. “You just need to show her that you’re serious, that you’re not some wide-eyed kid crushing on her.”

I groaned again. “So what do I do?”

Agatha grinned. “You step up your game. And I have just the plan.”

The shop was quiet this afternoon, the scent of incense curling through the air as I busied myself restocking the shelves. Lilia sat behind the counter, flipping through a book, her brow furrowed in quiet concentration. It was a peaceful kind of day until the bell above the door chimed, and I looked up, nearly dropping the stack of crystals in my hands.

I froze.

Standing in the doorway, looking just as poised and elegant as ever, was my ex.

“Oh my God,” I muttered under my breath.

She blinked, then smiled in genuine surprise. “y/n?”

Lilia glanced up at the exchange, her expression pleasantly neutral, though I noticed the way her fingers paused mid-page turn.

I forced a smile, setting down the crystals. “Hey! Wow, uh... what are you doing here?”

She laughed lightly, brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “A friend of mine recommended this place. Said the tarot readings here were... life-changing. ”

Agatha, you absolute menace.

Before I could explain, Lilia stood, offering one of her usual polite smiles. “A friend of y/n’s?”

My ex turned to her, all charm and grace. “Oh no, dear,” she said with a small chuckle, resting a hand on the counter. “I’m her ex.”

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

Lilia’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening just a fraction before she masked it with a practiced blink. “Oh,” she said slowly, clearly recalibrating. “I see.” Her eyes flicked between us, and then, with an almost surgical precision, she added, “Aren’t you... a little old?”

I internally screamed.

My ex, to her credit, handled it with an amused smile. “It was perfectly legal, I assure you.”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t waver. “Hm.”

I coughed awkwardly, feeling my face heat. “We, uh... it was a while ago.”

Lilia didn’t respond, just continued observing me with that unreadable expression of hers, her hands resting lightly on the counter.

My ex gave me a lingering smile. “You look good, y/n. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under Lilia’s silent gaze. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” she replied with a casual shrug. “But I won’t keep you, I just wanted to check the place out. It’s lovely. I’ll be sure to come back when I have time for a tarot reading.” She smiled politely at Lilia. “I see y/n’s in good hands.” She added.

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she only nodded. “Naturally.”

I was pretty sure I was sweating at this point. “Uh, yeah, well, good seeing you. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” she said with a lingering smile before heading out the door with a soft chime of the bell.

The moment she was gone, I turned to Lilia, ready to explain but she was already facing away from me, carefully aligning a deck of tarot cards that didn’t need aligning.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and thick.

I cleared my throat. “Sooo... that happened.”

Lilia hummed noncommittally, her focus apparently glued to the cards in her hands. “Indeed.”

I shifted awkwardly. “You okay?”

She glanced at me, her expression perfectly composed but her eyes just a little too sharp. “I’m fine, baby.”

Baby. I nearly sighed in relief at the sound of it, but something about the way she said it, softer, more thoughtful made my stomach twist.

“You sure? You’re, uh... being quiet.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just... thinking.”

I frowned, watching her closely. “About?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead carefully setting the tarot deck down before meeting my gaze. “I suppose I’m just... surprised.”

“Surprised?” I echoed.

Lilia tilted her head, her expression unreadable again. “You didn’t strike me as someone who dated... older women.”

I laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh... surprise?”

Lilia studied me for a long moment, her lips pressing together like she was considering something. “I see.”

And then, without another word, she turned back to her work, and I was left standing there, feeling like I had somehow lost a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

By nightfall, I was back at Agatha’s, crashing onto her couch, groaning dramatically. “Agatha, you suck. ”

She grinned over her wine glass. “You’re welcome.”

Jen shook her head. “So let me get this straight, you saw your ex, Lilia found out, and now she’s acting weird? ”

“Weird,” I confirmed, running a hand through my hair. “She’s quiet. Too quiet. And she kept bringing up the age thing before, but now she’s, like, really leaning into it.”

Billy grinned. “So she’s jealous.”

I groaned. “I don’t know! She’s not saying anything. She’s just being all... introspective.”

Agatha smirked. “Oh, she’s spiraling.”

Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe she’s just processing. I mean, you’re younger, and she’s probably overthinking it.”

“She is overthinking it,” I muttered. “And I don’t know what to do!”

Jen sipped her drink. “You flirt with her more.”

Billy nodded. “Exactly. Show her age means nothing.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if I can just—”

Agatha cut me off. “y/n. Look at me.”

I looked.

“You are hot. You are charming. And you have successfully dated an older woman before. ”

I winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”

She grinned. “Lilia Calderu is not immune to you. Trust me. She’s just panicking because now she knows she’s not the first older woman you’ve been interested in.”

Alice chimed in gently, “She might have been telling herself the age thing was a reason not to get involved with you. And now? She’s realising it’s not a reason at all.”

I blinked. “You think?”

Agatha smirked. “I know. ”

Billy fist-pumped. “So, new plan?”

I sighed, staring at my phone, where Lilia’s name sat in my recent messages. “New plan,” I mumbled. “Step up the flirting.”

Agatha raised her glass. “To y/n’s romantic conquest!”

I groaned. This was going to be so much worse than the texting.

I walked into the shop with renewed determination. Last night’s pep talk with the coven had me feeling... well, mostly confident. At least confident enough to step up my game and make it clear to Lilia that the whole age thing? Not an issue. I had a plan, flirt, be charming, and maybe, just maybe , get her to acknowledge whatever was happening between us.

Except life, as usual, had other plans.

The moment I walked in, the shop was packed. A line of customers at the counter, others browsing the shelves, and Lilia, poised, composed, and completely absorbed in reading after reading.

I blinked. “Since when do we get this busy?”

She didn’t answer, of course. Lilia never spoke during a reading, but the way she glanced up at me before flipping over a card for the woman in front of her said enough.

I sighed, shoving my bag behind the counter.

After the reading, she finally looked up, smoothing her hands over the table. “It’s the full moon tomorrow. People are... searching.”

“Of course they are.”

So much for my grand seduction plan.

I tried, though. Between organising stock and ringing up sales, I threw in little comments. A brush of my hand here, a sly smile there. But Lilia? She was avoiding me like it was her new favorite hobby.

Every time I moved toward her, she shifted her attention to a customer. When I leaned against the counter, trying to catch her eye, she breezed past me with a murmured, “Excuse me, baby.”

And when I finally managed to get close enough to remind her about my plans, she barely registered it.

“Hey, don’t forget I have to leave early tomorrow,” I said, leaning in slightly. “Agatha’s art gallery thing, remember? I told you last week.”

Lilia, scanning a book title, nodded absently. “Mhm. That’s fine, baby.”

I frowned. “Lilia, Agatha will kill me if I miss it.”

Still no real reaction. “You’ll be fine.”

And just like that, she was gone again, moving to help another customer without a second glance.

I stared after her, utterly baffled. She was always attentive when I talked to her, always teasing or throwing in some cryptic comment to keep me on my toes. But today? Today, she was distant. Aloof. And it was driving me insane.

By the end of the day, I was ready to scream.

I stomped into Agatha’s that evening, slumping onto the couch in pure defeat. “She’s avoiding me.”

Agatha didn’t even look up from her wine. “Told you she’d spiral.”

Billy, sprawled on the floor with a tarot deck, flipped over a random card and smirked. “I predict that she’s freaking out.”

Jen raised an eyebrow. “You got all that from the cards?”

“No, I got that from common sense,” Billy said, grinning.

Alice offered me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe she’s just busy?”

I threw my hands in the air. “No, Alice. She’s strategically avoiding me. I tried everything today. Every time I got close, she found something else to do.”

Jen winced. “Ouch. So what’s the plan now?”

Agatha set down her wine, eyes gleaming. “Simple. You keep going.”

I groaned. “Agatha.”

“No, listen,” she insisted, sitting up. “If she’s avoiding you, that means she felt something yesterday. And now she’s panicking.”

Billy grinned. “So what you’re saying is... push harder?”

I groaned again. “You guys want me to die.”

Agatha leaned back, grinning. “You’ve survived worse.”

I sighed. “I told her I was leaving early for your thing tomorrow. She barely reacted.”

Agatha smirked. “Good. Because tomorrow, my dear y/n, she’s going to realise just how much she hates it when you’re not around.”

Alice smiled kindly. “Maybe a little space will make her see what she’s missing.”

I stared at the ceiling. “I hate all of you.”

Billy grinned. “We know.”

As soon as I stepped into the shop again, it felt like déjà vu. But thankfully today the shop was quiet. Not many customers, just the quiet hum of the incense burner. And, of course, Lilia still expertly dodging me like it was her life’s mission.

I tried to be casual about it, leaning on the counter and watching her pretend to be absorbed in inventory she’d probably memorised years ago. “Hey, mind if I use your place to get ready for Agatha’s thing later?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

She didn’t even look up, just nodded. “Of course. The spare key’s behind the counter.”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Thanks.”

And just like that, she was back to pretending I didn’t exist.

I stared at her for a moment, resisting the urge to say something more, something to break through whatever walls she was so determined to put up. But instead, I just grabbed the spare key and headed into the back.

Lilia’s space was tucked behind the shop, a cozy, cluttered little place filled with books, candles, and an endless supply of robes draped over various furniture pieces. I didn’t think much of it as I changed into the dress Agatha had practically forced me to wear. The dress hugged every inch of me in all the right places, the deep shade accentuating my skin in a way that even I had to admit was... impressive.

I slipped on my heels, applied my red lipstick with a steady hand, and fixed my hair until it fell just right. I wasn’t trying to do anything, this was just getting ready for Agatha’s event but even I could admit I looked good.

With one last glance in the mirror, I grabbed my things and stepped back into the shop.

Lilia was standing behind the counter, flipping through a book, seemingly lost in thought. She didn’t look up at first.

And then she did.

I watched the reaction unfold in slow motion, the way her eyes lifted, trailing up from the hem of my dress to my legs, then higher, higher, until they reached my face. Then she looked down, as if to double-check what she’d just seen. And then— snap —right back up again, her head jerking so fast I swore she almost gave herself whiplash.

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time ever, she said absolutely nothing.

I bit back a smile and walked over to the counter, heels clicking against the wooden floor, and held out the keys. “Thanks for letting me use your place.”

Lilia’s fingers closed around the keys, but she didn’t look away. Her dark eyes dragged over me again, slower this time, like she was trying to take it all in, maybe even commit it to memory.

There was something in the way she was looking at me, like she was working up the courage to say something. Her mouth opened slightly, and for a split second, I thought she might finally break her silence.

And then, right on cue, the door chimed.

“y/n, darling!” Agatha’s voice was as bright and smug as ever as she strolled in, wearing a knowing smile that only deepened when she saw the way Lilia was staring at me. “Look at you.”

Lilia’s gaze snapped away, and just like that, the moment was gone.

Agatha’s arm linked through mine, her grin positively feral as she turned to Lilia. “I’m stealing her for the night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Lilia finally spoke, her voice softer than usual. “Not at all.”

I turned to her with a small smile. “Bye, Lilia.”

She nodded, still looking at me like she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Goodnight, baby.”

Agatha practically dragged me out of the shop, and as soon as the door shut behind us, she let out a low whistle.

“Holy shit, y/n.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, no, did you see her face?” Agatha cackled, practically vibrating with glee. “I think you just aged her a decade.”

I groaned. “She didn’t even say anything.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, starting the car. “Oh, honey, she didn’t need to. That woman was devouring you with her eyes.”

I bit my lip, staring out the window. “You think?”

“I know. ”

And honestly? I really, really hoped she was right.

The night with Agatha was exactly what I needed. I loved things like this, dressing up, feeling the buzz of conversation, the soft glow of lights reflecting off expensive paintings, and the effortless way I fit into it all. There was something about the atmosphere, about the way people looked at me, that made me feel alive. And, of course, Agatha basked in it too, sipping her wine with a smirk and throwing me knowing looks every time someone complimented my dress.

"You clean up dangerously well, darling," she whispered at one point, nudging me with her elbow. "No wonder Lilia nearly combusted."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the heat creeping up my neck. "She didn't combust."

Agatha just grinned. "She will."

After the event wrapped up, Agatha, never one to let a good night end too soon, insisted on a celebratory gathering at her place. It didn't take much convincing—Billy, Jen, and Alice were already in, and honestly, I loved being around them. Nights like this were rare, and I soaked it in, lounging on Agatha’s plush couch with a glass of wine in hand while she dramatically recounted the events of the night.

"And then," Agatha said, eyes sparkling with mischief, "she walked out of that little back room, looking absolutely devastating, and I swear to you, Lilia nearly dropped dead. "

Jen gasped in delight. "Shut up. "

Billy, sprawled out on the floor with his arms behind his head, grinned. "I knew it. I knew she couldn’t handle it."

Alice, ever the voice of calm, smiled softly. "She really didn't say anything?"

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Not a word. She just... stared. "

Agatha smirked. "Stared? Honey, that woman was devouring you with her eyes."

Jen cackled. "So what’s the next move, y/n? Do we escalate?"

"I don't know!" I groaned. "She’s been weird all week, avoiding me, and now this? What does it even mean? "

Billy rolled onto his side. "It means she’s cracking."

"She’s definitely cracking," Jen agreed. "And if you play your cards right, she’ll snap soon enough."

I sighed, swirling my wine. "I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable, though. If she’s really that caught up about the age thing—"

Agatha waved me off. "Oh, please. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s terrified. "

"Terrified?" I frowned.

"Terrified because she knows you could wreck her entire world, and she wouldn’t stand a chance." Agatha leaned in with a wicked smile. "And she likes being in control, doesn’t she?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but my phone buzzed, cutting through the conversation. My heart leapt into my throat.

I glanced down, and there it was.

Lilia: Let me know when you get home safe.

I stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Billy sat up instantly. "Who is it?"

I swallowed hard. "Lilia."

The room erupted.

"Oh my God," Jen practically shrieked, grabbing my arm. "She texted you?! "

Agatha grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, she’s gone. "

I blinked, staring at the message. "It’s just... she wants to make sure I’m okay."

Agatha snatched the phone from my hand, reading the message aloud in a dramatic tone. "Let me know when you get home safe." She gasped theatrically. "Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve entered the protective phase. "

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. "It’s not a big deal."

Jen poked me. "y/n. Babe. This is a huge deal. She’s thinking about you right now. She’s picturing you coming home, kicking off your heels, and—"

"Okay, that’s enough," I muttered, my face burning.

Billy smirked. "But seriously, what are you gonna say back?"

I stared at the message again, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I don’t know. What do I even say? "

Agatha leaned in with a devious grin. "Simple. ‘Wish you were here.’"

I shot her a glare. "I’m not sexting her."

Alice smiled. "You could just say, ‘I will, thanks for checking in.’ Casual, but lets her know you appreciate it."

Jen hummed. "Or... you could send a little something extra. Not too flirty, just enough to keep her thinking."

I sighed. "You guys are terrible influences."

Billy shrugged. "We know."

I rolled my eyes but typed out a response anyway.

Me: Thanks, Lilia. I will. You're sweet for checking in.

I hovered over the send button, heart racing, before pressing it.

The room watched in silent anticipation.

Billy grinned. "And now we wait."

I stared at my phone, willing it to buzz again. The coven had gone back to their usual antics. Billy was dramatically narrating the highlights of Agatha’s gallery event, Jen was critiquing the wine selection, and Agatha was lounging with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with her own meddling.

But me? I was glued to my screen, staring at Lilia’s last message like it held the secrets of the universe.

And then, finally, my phone buzzed.

Lilia: Please let me know if I need to send the police out.

I snorted, shaking my head. “She’s threatening to call the cops on me.”

Billy perked up. “That’s sexy.”

I sighed, typing out a response.

Me: I’m at Agatha’s, staying here tonight.

A moment later, another buzz.

Lilia: Good. Glad you’re safe.

I exhaled, a small smile tugging at my lips. But before I could even process it, another message popped up.

Lilia: How did the night go?

The coven erupted.

“Oh my God, ” Jen gasped, grabbing my arm. “She’s fishing. ”

“Grandma’s up past her bedtime, ” Agatha grinned, swirling her wine. “Probably already touching herself thinking about y/n and that red lipstick.”

I choked on my drink. “ Agatha! ”

Billy cackled, rolling onto his side. “I mean, she did see you in that dress. You think she just went to sleep after that? Hell no.”

Alice, blushing furiously, covered her face. “Oh my God, guys.”

I groaned, glaring at them. “Can you all not? She’s being nice, that’s all.”

Agatha smirked. “Sweetheart, people don’t stay up texting their employees at midnight just to be nice. ”

Jen waved a hand. “Yeah, no one’s buying that. She’s sitting at home, staring at her phone, probably replaying that double take she did when you walked out in that dress.”

Billy wagged his brows. “Lilia Calderu: palm reader by day, handsy old woman by night.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Agatha grinned. “No, you love us. Now text her back. Be flirty, y/n.”

I peeked out from my hands. “What do I even say?”

Jen, ever the strategist, leaned in. “Keep it casual but suggestive. Something like, ‘It was good. Would’ve been better if you were there.’”

Billy gasped. “Yes, yes, YES.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s too much. Maybe just say, ‘It went well, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’”

Agatha snorted. “Boring.”

I sighed, staring at my phone. “Fine. I’ll go with something... middle ground.”

I typed, biting my lip.

Me: It went well. I think I made an impression.

The coven leaned in, waiting as I hovered over the send button. I rolled my eyes and hit it.

We all stared at the screen, waiting.

My phone buzzed again.

Lilia: I have no doubt you did, baby.

I froze, and the coven lost it.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling over the keyboard. “I think I’m going to die.”

Agatha grinned. “Not before you sext her back. ”

I stared at my phone, heart hammering in my chest, Lilia’s message practically burning into my screen.

I turned to the coven, wide-eyed and completely at a loss. “What do I say? What do I say?! ”

Alice sighed. “Keep it playful. Like, ‘Good to know my reputation precedes me.’”

Agatha smirked. “Or—and hear me out—‘I leave a mark wherever I go... want me to leave my mark on you?’”

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. “You all suck.”

Billy grinned. “And yet you keep asking for our help.”

I rolled my eyes but typed anyway, fingers trembling just slightly.

Me: Good to know my reputation precedes me.

A collective sigh of satisfaction rippled through the group as I hit send.

We all stared at the screen again. Silence. Then...

Lilia: It does. Quite the reputation, indeed.

Jen gasped. “OH. MY. GOD. ”

Agatha laughed, draping herself dramatically over the couch. “y/n, darling, you are killing her.”

I couldn’t fight the smile stretching across my lips, warmth spreading through me.

Alice giggled. “This is so cute.”

Billy nodded sagely. “It’s not cute, Alice. It’s sexy. ”

We kept chatting for a while longer, Agatha tossing out increasingly absurd suggestions that I shot down one by one, and eventually, we all crashed, smiles on our faces, hearts full, and just enough teasing to ensure I wouldn’t get a moment’s peace tomorrow.

It was so fucking early. Too early. The kind of early that felt like a personal attack.

I woke up to the sharp smell of coffee and the unmistakable sound of Billy and Jen bickering, their voices cutting through the dawn like they had no concept of time—or mercy. My brain protested every second of consciousness, but I managed to peel myself off the couch, blinking blearily.

After some groggy, half-conscious hugs and a round of mumbled promises to update each other, we all stumbled our separate ways, the world outside still drenched in that unsettling, pre-sunrise gloom.

And then... I was home. Alone.

And I was bored.

I wasn’t at the shop today, which meant I had absolutely no distractions. No tarot cards to organise, no shelves to restock, and, most importantly, no Lilia. I found myself pacing my apartment, debating whether it would be too much to text her again, but the thought made me cringe.

I needed an excuse. Something casual.

I chewed my lip, glancing at my keys. And then it hit me.

Lilia loved this little Italian pastry place across town, she mentioned it once in passing, some small hole-in-the-wall bakery that she claimed made the best sfogliatelle she’d had since leaving Sicily.

Before I could overthink it, I grabbed my coat and drove across town.

By the time I reached the shop, the Closed sign was still hanging on the door. It was early, too early for the shop to be open yet, but I knocked anyway, clutching the warm box of pastries in my hands.

A few seconds passed, and then the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there in a robe— a robe.

A silky, deep burgundy robe that clung to her in ways that made my brain short-circuit. Her dark curls were loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and she looked... soft. Sleepy.

And I was the one speechless now.

“y/n?” she murmured, brow furrowing in confusion.

I swallowed hard, trying to remember how to form words. “Uh... I brought breakfast.” I held up the box like an offering, as if that explained why I was standing outside her shop at an ungodly hour.

She stared at me for a beat, then at the pastries, and then back at me. Without a word, she stepped aside, opening the door wider.

I stepped inside, the familiar scent of the shop mingling with the faint, warm scent of her.

Lilia gestured to the small table in the corner where we usually sat with tea. “Sit,” she said softly, closing the door behind me.

I obeyed, setting the pastries down as she disappeared into the back for a moment. When she returned, she had two mugs of coffee in hand, sliding one across the table to me.

“Thought you had today off,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

I shrugged, unboxing the pastries. “I do. I just... thought you’d like these.”

Her lips twitched. “From my favorite place?”

I grinned. “I listen.”

She picked up one of the pastries, inspecting it like she was deciding if I’d done a good job. Then she took a bite, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “You really do listen.”

I laughed softly, watching her. “So, how’d the shop do without me yesterday?”

Lilia smirked. “It survived.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the tension from the night before melting into something more familiar. She asked about the gallery, my friends, the art. I told her about Billy’s ridiculous art commentary and Agatha’s smug satisfaction.

“You have good friends,” she said after a while, stirring her coffee thoughtfully.

“They’re the best,” I agreed, smiling.

She sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug with those dark, knowing eyes. “And they care about you... a lot.”

I shrugged. “I care about them too.”

Something flickered in her expression, but before I could ask, she glanced at the clock and sighed. “You should probably head back before they start wondering where you are.”

I pouted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m saying your fan club will miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the hint, and stood to gather my things. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get ready to open.”

Lilia smirked, walking me to the door. “Smart choice, baby.”

I paused in the doorway, turning to her. “Thanks for letting me crash your morning.”

She leaned against the doorframe, her gaze soft but unreadable. “Anytime.”

I left with a flutter in my chest, already thinking about what excuse I could come up with to see her again.

The evening was quiet, just me and the soft hum of the TV filling the apartment. I was curled up on the couch, half-watching some crime drama, the kind where the detectives always figure things out way too fast. My mind kept drifting back to this morning, Lilia in that robe, the way she’d looked at me, the way her lips had curled around the edge of her coffee cup like she was considering something she wouldn’t say out loud.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, telling myself to stop overthinking.

And then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen, expecting a text from one of the coven, but my brows furrowed at the sender.

Lilia Calderu.

I sat up a little straighter, unlocking my phone.

The message? Absolute gibberish.

“fhbgggjkkjj”

I blinked.

I stared at it.

I blinked again.

I typed back quickly.

Me: Lilia? Everything okay?

No response.

I stared at my phone, waiting.

Still nothing.

I chewed on my lip, debating if I should call her, when—

RING.

I nearly dropped the phone as Lilia’s name flashed across the screen.

I fumbled to answer, pressing it to my ear. “Lilia?”

Nothing. Just... breathing.

Shaky, uneven breathing.

And then—

A whimper.

My entire body froze.

Another sound, soft and needy, and—

A low, drawn-out moan.

I choked on air, clutching the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mouth went completely dry.

There was no mistaking what I was hearing. No way.

I opened my mouth to say something— anything —but before I could, the line went dead.

I stared at the phone like it had just burst into flames in my hand.

“No. No way,” I whispered to myself, blinking rapidly.

This... this had to be an accident. Maybe she sat on her phone? Maybe—maybe she was watching a... video or something? Yeah, I thought, nodding to myself. That makes sense. Probably just a mistake.

A completely innocent, totally not deliberate mistake.

My phone stayed silent in my hands, and I sat there for about 20 minutes, just processing.

And then my phone buzzed again.

Lilia: Ignore that.

I gawked at the screen.

Ignore that?

Like it was just some minor inconvenience?

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

Me: …Okay?

There was a long pause.

Then, finally—

Lilia: Goodnight, baby.

I groaned, falling back against the couch, covering my face with my hands.

“She’s going to kill me.”

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it, the soft whimper, the breathy moan, the way the call cut off before I could even process what was happening. My mind replayed it over and over, dissecting every second until I convinced myself it had to be a mistake.

Lilia had to have accidentally pocket dialed me. There was no way she’d do something like that on purpose. Right?

By the time morning rolled around, I was a mess, over-caffeinated, under-rested, and dreading what was going to happen when I walked into the shop.

I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, bracing myself for something, anything awkwardness, a comment, maybe even a cryptic remark about phones.

But when I walked in, Lilia was already behind the counter, counting the till like nothing had happened.

“Morning, y/n,” she said casually, not even looking up.

I froze for a second. “Uh... morning.”

She glanced up, arching a brow at my hesitation. “Are you alright?”

I stared at her, searching for any hint of discomfort or amusement anything that would give away the fact that she absolutely knew what she did last night. But she just looked... normal. Unbothered. As if she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I cleared my throat, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just... didn’t sleep well.”

Lilia hummed knowingly. “Ah, too much excitement from your art gala adventure the previous night?”

I blinked. Was that... was that a dig? I couldn't tell.

“Something like that,” I muttered, setting my bag down behind the counter.

She straightened up and gave me one of her usual, polite smiles. “I need you to organise the crystal display today. People keep moving things around, and it’s driving me crazy.”

I stared at her, waiting for something, some sly comment, some subtle hint that she knew.

Nothing.

She just handed me a cloth and gestured toward the shelves like it was any other day.

I nodded slowly, taking it from her. “Sure. I can do that.”

Lilia’s lips quirked, and she patted my shoulder lightly. “Good girl.”

The words slipped from Lilia’s lips like they meant nothing, like they weren’t currently wreaking absolute havoc on my nervous system.

I gripped the cloth in my hands so tight I was surprised it didn’t disintegrate. My entire body was in overdrive, my brain short-circuiting in real-time, because after last night, after hearing that noise, after spending all night dissecting it from every possible angle, there was no way I could process her saying that without losing my mind.

And yet, Lilia carried on like she hadn’t just set me on fire.

She hummed to herself as she floated across the shop, rearranging candles with her usual air of elegant chaos, soft, sophisticated, yet somehow still completely kooky. She muttered something under her breath about “people putting things in the wrong places” and shot the candles a scolding look, as if they were responsible.

Meanwhile, I stood there, trying to act like my entire worldview hadn’t shifted overnight.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

There was no way she had butt-dialled me on purpose, right? No way she knew what I’d heard. But what if she suspected? What if she was saying things like good girl just to watch me unravel? Was I unraveling? It definitely felt like I was unraveling.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Lilia’s voice cut through my spiralling thoughts, and I nearly jumped, clutching the cloth like it was a lifeline.

“I’m—I'm fine,” I croaked, too fast, too awkward.

She glanced at me with a raised brow, then tilted her head, curls slipping over her shoulder in that careless, elegant way she always managed. “Mm.” Her lips quirked, amused but not prying, yet. “If you say so.”

I nodded too quickly, ducking my head and wiping the same spot on the shelf three times. Play it cool. Play it cool. She doesn’t know.

Lilia, completely oblivious to the chaos in my head, twirled one of her rings around her finger absentmindedly, watching me with a curious little smile. “You really didn’t sleep well, did you?”

I froze. Oh god. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, returning to fussing with the display, adjusting a vase by a fraction of an inch before stepping back with a satisfied nod. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” I tried to keep my voice casual, but I was fairly sure I sounded like I was moments away from combusting.

Lilia turned, resting her elbows on the counter and watching me with a thoughtful expression. “The same one you get when you’re overthinking things. Your brow does this little... crinkle.”

My hand shot up to my forehead instinctively. “It does not.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh, it does.”

I groaned under my breath, focusing aggressively on the shelf in front of me. “It’s nothing. Just... a long night.”

She hummed knowingly. “Ah, still recovering from the art gala. I imagine it was... stimulating. Those events tend to linger, don’t they.”

I choked. “What?”

Lilia blinked, completely innocent. “The art. Your friends.” She paused. “The drinks?”

I stared at her, searching for even the tiniest flicker of something, anything , that might indicate she was toying with me. But she just looked... normal. Perfectly composed. Like she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. Stimulating.”

Lilia tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “You’re acting strange.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Are you in trouble? Did you get up to mischief?”

My entire existence was mischief at this point. “No.”

Lilia pursed her lips, clearly not convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she gently adjusted the sleeve of her robe, glancing at the clock. “Well, whatever it is, baby, I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.”

There it was again. Baby. My knees nearly gave out.

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the shelf. Focus.

To make things worse, she strolled over, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her, something warm, a little floral, a little spicy, something that was so Lilia it made my head spin. She picked up a crystal from the display I was supposed to be fixing and turned it over in her hands.

“This one’s nice,” she mused, running her fingers along the edges. Then, without missing a beat, she handed it to me. “For stress.”

I blinked. “I’m not stressed.”

She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that said she knew I was lying through my teeth. “Of course not.”

I took the crystal anyway, staring at it like it might offer me some divine clarity.

Lilia lingered for a moment longer, then gave a satisfied nod. “Well, I’m off to pretend I’m being productive in the back. Call if you need me.”

I watched her disappear behind the curtain, releasing the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. The second she was out of sight, I dropped my head onto the counter and groaned into my arms.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this?

She didn’t know.

And yet, somehow, it felt like she was winning a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

I sighed, rolling the crystal in my palm, muttering under my breath. “Progress. It’s progress.”

Because she wasn’t avoiding me. And if this was how she wanted to play it?

Fine. Two could play that game.

For now.

#lilia calderu x reader #lilia calderu #agatha all along #patti lupone #agatha all along fanfic #my fanfic

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azaharinflames · 3 months ago

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Will you share your theory on what you think is happening behind the scenes of 911?

Hi, Nonnie!

Sure! As long as everyone is aware this is purely speculation, and nothing I say should be taken as proof of anything, I have no problem.

I've gone over a few things in my head, to be honest. I thought that JLH having filming conflicts could've been a major factor, and I still don't exactly disagree with that initial idea, but overall I think it was one of the things that threw TM for a loop.

Now, I've seen a lot of people theorize that perhaps Angela is leaving and that is what is causing so much chaos in BTS, but I am on the fence about this. I do think she might've asked to not have such a big role moving forward, especially if they get a season 9 (which I am also on the fence about ngl), like perhaps retiring, or just having a more laidback position training new recruits. The seeds are planted for that, not so much for her fully leaving. And it would give Angela more free time to dedicate to other projects (which, yes please. I need her in new projects ASAP).

So... (and please don't kill me for this, it's just a theory).

I think it all comes back to Ryan. And that he perhaps is leaving, or actively wants to leave. I will try to explain myself as concise as possible:

A couple of months ago there was already speculation about this. In all of his individual interviews (which were a lot, to be honest), Ryan made a point of talking about his work beyond 911 and talking about what he would like to do after 911.

On top of the individual promo, there was an uncharacteristically high amount of BTS dedicated to him and the godforsaken mustache. To the point where they threw a mustache party. And in the pics of that party, the vibes were that it was a party for Ryan, not in general.

Small thing, but Josh randomly dressing up as Eddie for Halloween. Perhaps unrelated, but I wanted to add it.

The 911 account reposting and celebrating Ryan's 100th ep, when 1. it wasn't his 100th (if we count the eps he was actually in) and 2. it was also JLH's, and yet they didn't say a thing about it. Ryan reposted that as well and the message he reposted it with was more nostalgic than anything else. Very much giving 'it was an honor to work with you, what a journey'.

I could be wrong, but I do think his contract ends this season. So, that just adds to it.

The timeline of the move to Texas. By the reactions alone I was fully expecting Eddie to leave for Texas at the end of 808, and then to be back with Chris (in a lazy way of solving their conflict off-screen) by 809-810. But the way he's currently thinking about it makes it very sus for me. As in, it can be a thing for the end of the season, and an actual goodbye for Eddie.

Of course, nothing of this has to actually happen, and it's quite possible it just exists in my brain. But this makes sense in my funny brain because then it explains why BT had to break up so soon... because they wanted Buck to feel completely isolated.

We know 809-10 will deal with Maddie being kidnapped. That alone will make Buck spiral. But if on top of that his best friend is also leaving... well, being alone just adds to the isolation and the angst. Because if Tommy was still around he'd be able to lean on him, and have him help him through this. But it seems like the writers wanted Buck fully alone for this, because sure, seeing a character never learning and being completely isolated is so much fun.

If this ends with BT getting back together, I honestly don't know. It wouldn't surprise me if Tim doesn't know. But, all in all, I wouldn't be surprised if RG deciding he's done is the thing that kinda created the domino effect.

(Also: I do not believe Oliver was telling Tim to fire Lou and end BT. Sorry. I just don't really see it. Nor do I think there were actual conflicts between actors BTS, as much as everything they're doing right now does feel a bit weird)

Anyway, thanks for letting me rant, Nonnie! My inbox is always open for ranting, venting, or discussing

Take care <3

#911 discourse #911 spec #911 cast #bucktommy #tevan #anti buddie #not really but i don't want them here #i especially do NOT want them in this post #so im not even gonna tag ryan #anon ❣️

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fuumiku · 11 months ago

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Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

#Dungeon meshi #Ask #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #Marcille donato #chilchuck tims #Marchil #You me the parking lot after i finish and post my arc analysis #Sobbing……… we’re 20 over here in the rarepair pit come on. Like do u not see how obsessed i am. Do u think they like. Mean nothing to me #Do u think it’s all incidental and i slipped and the 10 thousands of words I write for them had no thought or feelings behind them or #Their arc is so beautifuuuuul they come to see each other and her standards become more real while he allows hope and openness #Into his heart again 😭😭 not the way two of their scenes lowkey read as a proposal…#Anyways I hope this makes it clear I’ll fight to my dying breath for them.#I don’t want trouble and i imagine you don’t either so just don’t come shitting on my doorstep #In positive news my fic Grind Me Down Sweetly recently reached 100 likes and 1k hits <3 it can also be read as just platonic so if you like #Them as a duo even as friends give it a shot #Every time I see someone shitting on marchil I start making marchil content faster btw #Not art #Unstoppable force x immovable object my beloved. They need someone stubborn loving methinks. One who loves stubbornly and one who confronts

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gorgeouslypink · 2 years ago

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HIIII PINK!!! When I heard you were leaving I was so sad I even started crying and started to doubt myself on entering the void. I was like “how tf am I going to get into the void without pink???” I started procrastinating reading some of your post basically stalking ur page staying up til 4 in the morning (I was desperate 😭). I realized that I already read all of ur post, nd I just was surprised on how much time I wasted trying to get into the void. And I always dreamt abt putting a success story in your inbox. I already had all the knowledge i needed so what’s the point of more? I deleted tumblr and thought of anything that could help me get in the void. I did SATS while listening to my subliminal playlist, i daydreamed abt the void and my desires for fun, i affirmed for my void concept randomly throughout the day, feeling of the wish fulfilled, listened to delta waves when I was abt to sleep, and I meditated once a day for 10 mins. Meditation was optional but whateva 🤷‍♀️. I ONLY DID THAT FOR THREE FREAKING DAYS. And Im still mad at myself for wasting time procrastinating for 9 months. I was going to take a nap and I was in a drowsy state, so might as well affirm for the void right? I started saying affs like “I’m in the void”, etc etc. Once I started affirming, everything was just calm Yk? My body wanted to move but it was like it couldn’t cause the state I was in was calm asf. So I closed my eyes and just repeated the affs in my head over and over and over until I got this feeling like as if my body was floating, then I payed attention to it for a split second then ignored It after. I kept on affirming then I felt like I was being pulled then let go and it was as if I was falling. Everything got darker and quieter. So then I got scared and jumped because that scared me soo bad (I’m a easy person to scare 😔). After that, I felt like I was actually a master at the void, I took a nap again and I had the same feeling but when I felt like I fell I kept my calm. Then I couldn’t hear my fan which was louddd, I opened my eyes to total darkness, I was scared for two seconds and realized I was in the void!! Ngl I had a whole list set up with my desires and I was ready to affirm and goooo!!! But I realized how calm the void is and stayed there for what felt like 5 minutes. I did affirm I had all my desires and that I was able to wake up in the void under 5 seconds. When I woke up from the void it was 9 pm and I took a nap at 2!!! I woke up with all of my desires nd shi. (I would explain in more detail in how I got in and stuff like that but I was in a rush and didn’t want to make this too long 😀)

BUT THANK YOU SMM PINK, IM GOING TO MISS U SM. YOU HAVE BEEN A REALLY BIG HELP WITH MY VOID JOURNEY, I TRULY APPRECIATE EVERYTHING U HAVE DONE FOR THIS COMMUNITY, MAKE SURE TO ENJOY UR SELF 💗💗💖💖💖💗💕

✌️😼

Hi love!!! Omgosh I'm so proud of you! This is so cute and you deserve this so much and I'm genuinely happy for you. 💗

#void state #void success

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windienine · 1 year ago

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the best game of 2024 was an hour-long visual novel demo, and i can't tell you how it ends

attack and dethrone god.

okay. oh my god. soul of sovereignty by ggdg (of lady of the shard & deltarune fame) is discounted for only a few more days, so i need to get this one out while the iron's hot.

so: i'm inviting you along on another journey. we're following a polite gentleman of the wizardly inclination (loïc) who is approached by a sickly woman in dire need (ysmé). all she requests, in her plea, is an escort to guide her to the nearby temple. his decision to support her may turn out to be the most important choice he ever makes.

... have you ever enjoyed the kind of narrative that traps two people with heavily contrasting motives and personalities together in an unbreakable contract? do you like stories of absolute devotion?

i could look at this shot forever ngl

... are you compelled by immersive speculative fantasy worlds where the use and study of magic heavily influences the rhythm of people's day-to-day lives?

(really intriguing magical linguistics system going on here)

... do you ever promise too much of yourself to others, sometimes, even when it's a bad idea?

... if it was possible -- if you could -- would you abandon your humanity for the power to change your world forever?

and, whatever you may feel in your heart about the above...

do you want to see behind the eyes of a hot trans girl as she bullshits her way into a truly volatile level of power and influence and gets everything she wants?

(+ her pet dilf lovely assistant)

if even one of these elicited a "yes," i think you'll love this story.

i'll go out of a limb:

i think, if you open up your heart, you'll find yourself falling for both of the leads. It's a game that really wants you to look at it from every angle, take it apart, and ask questions about loïc, ysmé, their stories, and what they believe to be true about the world and one another. subtext -- especially the charged subtext this story throws at you and hopes you'll piece together -- is a beautiful thing.

the number of talksprites in this demo is kind of staggering

the jrpg-inspired world of the mosaic and its surroundings is as vibrant as it is profoundly lonely, color folded into every facet of its character as you move through it. appropriately, it's really invested in a lot of questions that arise not just from high fantasy as a genre, but from the modern fantasy sensibilities of jrpgs and the interrogation of what divinity even means in a world where the gods are forces you can interact with and draw power from, however indirectly.

what can i even say? that gg and toby fox's collab score for the prelude is downright heavenly and made it onto my work playlist right alongside the deltarune ost the day it came out on bandcamp? that gg's art, especially their use of light, conveys every scene with vivid beauty?

i wouldn't be posting so much of it if i didn't want to eat every CG. oh my god. he's so pretty. it's not even fair

beyond all of that, i think the game's main resonance point with people is that gg's writing is genuinely thoughtful. they use art detail and deft character writing to convey everything about the leads, using the limited time you get with it to paint layers and layers of information on who these people are and why they make the decisions they do. soulsov's roughly an-hour-and-change of text, expressive talksprites, and lush CGs is infused with so much heart and so much horror and so much intrigue that it leaves you feeling like you're a part of this world, carried along for the ride right alongside the two leads. gg clearly really adores these two, and that level of passion makes everything loïc and ysmé do shine even brighter. in spite of (or perhaps because of) all their friction and flaws, they're easy to love.

(it's really fun to read aloud as a script, too! ysmé's a hoot.)

i hope you experience it with high expectations and an open heart. i don't think it will disappoint. it is, perhaps, just a little bit magical.

i hope you see it through to the end!

#soulsov #soul of sovereignty #indie games #deltarune #long post #i'm not saying everything i want to say here but #i need you to discover the rest and leave a nice review #ok??#i love it

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signanothername · 7 months ago

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Just want to say your art style is so good, and every time you post, you make my day. I just don’t get how everything you draw is so amazing! But yeah, anyway, I just love it!

You guys are gonna make me cry fr /pos

Thank you so so much it genuinely means the world to me, ngl the fact so many people keep complimenting my artstyle is just so heartwarming, my artstyle is something I struggled with a lot, and to be completely honest with you, it’s something I hated with a passion at some point in my art journey hahaha (dw I don’t hate it anymore)

But to actually receive such compliments just heals that part of me that was so hurt about it back then y’know?

I’m genuinely glad my art makes your day and I hope i keep making you happy with my silly lil art dhdhhdd <333

Here’s one lil silly artwork just for you <3333

#you guys are the best fr <3333 #anothers art #anothers ask

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rainybyday · 5 months ago

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Thrid! (This idea keeps going, my mind won't let me study!!!!!)

Part 1 | Part 2

So at this point it's both a clan issue and a political issue

One - Clans

Uchiha’s have the issue of trying not to get into a Hatake conflict and now being essentially accused of border crossing

Senju’s have one of their own being used against them as a biological weapon and a border crossing issue with their enemy

Hatake’s just got the news that one of their own is seen between two clan lands at war with pups! And injured!!!

Two - Political

Senju elders see this as biological warfare with one of their own, with a wood release, is used against them

Senju and Unchiah border crossing when not in battle

Hatake sighting, the main clan will probably visit ngl

Ok so Hatake’s

I see them as more as a nomadic clan that moves with the seasons to farm in lands that are wild and free

They would move every season for different crops to grow or lands to rest in

They have some pacts with some farmers to leave some of their crops there in exchange for a share of their crops for the farmers

So while many civilians are scared or hate them, a lot of farmers actually respect them, hence, why a lot of farmers or civilian families live in the old Hatake lands during Kakashi’s time

Hatakes, while known as farmers, are known as farmers that can grow crops anywhere

Can grow in infertile soil, swamps, ice mountains, sand beaches

They are magic

People know that a Hatake-grown crop is bound to be rich and delicious

But also rare to get your hands off since so many people are willing to pay top gold for such crops

And yet Hatakes aren’t stingy with their crops nor are they materialistic so they don't mind trading nor selling their crops, but asking them for exclusive rights to their crops? Fuck no!

Fun fact, Hatakes will rebuild their “compound” of tents with additional material around them like wood from trees, clay from rivers, or use stones to build small walls for their young

Also! I like to add that Hatakes can be seen as the main clan and smaller packs!

So main clan will generally stay all together and move together as a clan but there are some smaller packs of Hatakes that will leave from the main pack to go there own journey

Its not to say that they are excluded or shunned by their clan but just that they have the need to explore or travel or do something other then stay with the pack

They of course have to tell their clan leader and inform them of new Hatake members if any, such as adopted members into their pack or new babies

Its a system to make sure that pack can help pack and anything necessary to help family out

They are all very family and pack originated but they are also free and wild and do as they please

So its not unknown to hear of smaller packs of Hatake’s out in the wild

What is surprising is to hear of a pack that migrated onto a war zone, and a unknown pack at that

So when the Hatake’s got the letter of a Hatale male with a pink hair girl they are very puzzled but also worried

Because for one, a pack at least has four people moving together, so for only a sighting of two is something to be considered about

Even more so when they heard they were injured

And the PUP had it the worse

What do they do?

The migrate of course ^^

Isn’t it wonderful that the new season just started this spring

#and thus it continues #continues #naruto #naruto au #team 7 #team kakashi #hatake kakashi #sakura haruno #hatake clan #uchiha clan #senju clan #time travel

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seospicybin · 6 months ago

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So guys, today is my birthday 🎂🎈

Just the other day, I had this sad thought that as I grow older, I realize that I won't always be able to do the things that I like because life happens, passion fades and at one point, you grow out of things.

Maybe, just maybe one day it'd come the time that I won't be able to write fics anymore and the fact that I got sad thinking about it means that I still love writing.

So while I still have time, while I'm still passionate about writing and love doing it, and more importantly, while there are people who is willing to read them, I'll keep on writing with this sadness and the joy that I get from it.

There were times where I felt so deeply insecure about my writings and questioning myself whether I should just quit, but now, I am more sure than ever that I want to stay.

I also want to use this opportunity to say thank you to each and everyone of you who gave my writings a chance, for the support and for sending me all kinds of feedback. I know that I don't take much fuss about the number of engagements on my writings but if no one is reading it & interacting with it, I would have deleted this account and stop writing altogether.

So thank you for making me stay and making me want to write more, please know that I appreciate you so much 🥺💞

(Ugh, I didn't mean to make it sad and ngl, I'm tearing up as I'm typing this 😭😭😭)

When I decided to open this account, I didn't even dare to dream that there would be people reading my stuff but looking back, I can see how much I've achieved and I'm forever grateful for taking the decision to share my writings. There were good days, there were bad days and there'll be more of them in the future but that's makes the journey much more fun, right? Can't wait to see how far I'll go. I guess, we'll see. 😊

This account has been my safe space for almost three years now so my only wish is that you feel safe in this space too.

Anyway, I'm sorry for wasting your time with my sad little rant but once again, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Sending you much love and warm hugs ❤️🫂

Oh, and if you want to treat me coffee on my birthday, I'd really appreciate it! 🥰

#just a spicy little rant #I lied it's not spicy #my period is near #sorry for all the hormones flowing in my writings #🥺❤️

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sheisjoeschateau · 1 year ago

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve... | PART VII

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER VII WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, ruthless banter, mentions of death, injuries, end-of-the-world terror talk, newfound shared codependency (but like it's healthy imo also it's valid lmao) jealousy. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this chapter is honestly a gahdamn MF feast. a favorite of mine NGL, for a multitude of reasons. Murray high key pops the fuck off like the boss bitch he is and takes us on a long lecture of a journey to visit the lordt of truth bombs. Eddie has zero chill. Robin is the bestest-best-fwend and platonic-with-a-capital-p soulmate to our boy. Dustin is a dingus. LUCAS BE SEEIN' THINGS. Hopper is Joppering. Nancy and Jonathan get a clue. Mama Steve and the kids are in full swing. We get a cutie cameo from Harrington's signature yellow sweater.

And our lovebirds finallyyyy......well.....say the magic word that they're feeling hehehe:)

ISSA LONG ONE. PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve knew he would have to face downstairs again at some point before the morning. Definitely before everyone else went to bed. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Not yet.

Because right now, you were fast asleep in his arms. Laid carefully on your back for the sake of your bad shoulder, with your head turned into his chest. Steve was propped up on an elbow, facing you with his other hand gliding his fingertips to trace your arm draped across your chest. He drew shapes up your arm, now adorned with his yellow crewneck, up to your jawline so that he could tuck your hair behind your ear.

And all the while, he just stared at your chest – comforted by the steady rise and fall. It kept him sane. It kept his eyes open. It kept him from letting the nightmare return. You slept so peacefully, he might never have known you’d been dead in his arms earlier that day.

“You are beautiful, Steve Harrington.”

Your words from last night ran through his mind on a loop, like a VHS tape on replay.

“I can’t stand you.”

You’d said it in the warmest voice Steve had ever heard in his life. Somehow, those words meant more to him than I love you. Because when he said it back, he realized it meant the same thing.

“I can’t stand you either.”

I love you too.

Steve carefully placed his forehead against your temple, eyes fluttering shut and breathing you in. Something danced inside of his stomach. It ached, it burned and it warned him of all the things he feared feeling the most for anyone except the girl downstairs who had made love seem lost. He never wanted those feelings to return again for anyone else but her – Nancy. And yet here he was: every one of those feelings rushed back tenfold, for the girl upstairs in his guest bedroom lying beside him. The girl who had ruined the chance at a life for him with Nancy Wheeler. The girl he swore was the reason he was robbed of all things good. Robbed of love. True love.

But he no longer loved Nancy Wheeler.

Steve Harrington loved you.

Downstairs, everyone is quiet but productive.

Joyce is organizing the last of the stashed supplies. The kids are eating some bowls of hot soup, served up by Murray. He had to stay busy and shake off the frayed nerves. Otherwise, he’d go berserk. Completely berserk. Joyce gently helped him but knew better than to baby him. She was surprised to find Erica walking over, offering to help serve up some glasses of water or sodas for everyone. To everyone’s surprise, they operated well. Like chef and sous-chef. What an unlikely duo.

Hopper and El were talking in the living room about the potential new plan, and Mike moved from the table where he sat with the kids and teens to join them.

Steve could hear them all down there, the ambience muffled on the other side of the closed door separating you both from the rest of the world outside of each other's arms. He could have fallen asleep right there with you if he let himself.

But a soft knock on the door made him crane his head to look towards the source of the noise. With one last look at you, he carefully slipped his arm out from underneath you. You never stirred, the rhythm of your breathing still intact and your mind lost in sleep.

Steve wasn’t sure who to expect on the other side of the door. But as he ran a hand through his hair, he found himself not caring.

Turns out, it was Murray. He stood with two bowls of hot soup, now staring into the eyes of Steve Harrington — who he begrudgingly noted still looked dashing, despite his towel-dried bedhead and tired eyes.

Seriously, no one should make a t-shirt and sweatpants look that good.

Your uncle cleared his throat. “Uhh, I made some soup.”

Steve gave him a timid but grateful nod, taking one of the bowls. Glancing back over his shoulder, Murray followed Harrington’s gaze — back at you, sleeping in bed.

“She’s still out,” Steve told him.

Murray nodded. “I’ll keep hers warm downstairs.” An awkward silence fell over Murray and Steve, but finally your uncle continued. “Listen, why not come down? Let her rest, get yourself some water or — a sandwich maybe, to go with the soup. Erica says she’ll make them but I'm reallllly not feeling confident about that.”

Steve allowed himself a soft chuckle at that, biting his lip and glancing back at you.

“She’s alright,” your uncle assured Steve. “Trust me. I keep having to remind myself that, too.”

Steve was glad that the two of them could relate on that — endlessly worrying about you. He was also glad that your uncle wasn’t giving him shit for it, and honestly Murray was extremely pleasant when he wasn’t being an ass. It took Steve by surprise. No wonder you two were related. With a reluctant sigh, Steve agreed to follow Murray downstairs for some more grub.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Steve’s eyes first landed on Nancy sitting with Robin and Joyce. She looked over at Steve with her big blue eyes, which danced with longing. Steve’s doe brown eyes didn’t return it, but he lightly smiled in her direction anyway. Robin immediately perked up, jogging over to Steve from her seated position on the floor. She grabbed him for a tight hug, and he made sure not to spill his bowl of soup.

“Sorry sorry, I’ve just — been worried sick.”

“S’okay, Robs,” Steve murmured, appreciating the comfort. She pulled back to look at him, giving him a sad smile. She wanted to ask him a million questions, but knew it best to save it for later.

“C’mon,” Robin told him, tilting her head towards the kitchen. “Let’s go grab some crackers or something to go with that soup, which you need to eat. Don’t even think about not eating, Steve. I’m serious, okay?”

Steve listened to her keep rambling on as they walked into the kitchen, where Erica and Lucas were bickering about PB&J’s, and Murray stepped in to take back his title as head chef. Eddie and Jonathan were sitting at the dining table, clearly in deep conversation but ceasing once they noticed them walking in. Jonathan gave him a pitying look, while Eddie flashed a dopey grin to try and hide whatever serious talk was just going down.

Dustin, Mike and Will all rounded the corner as Steve moved to sit at the bar. They all sat next to him happily. YAY, MOM’S HOME.

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair absentmindedly as he sipped on his soup and stared down at his spoon. Erica was shoving a very haphazard looking sandwich in front of him while Lucas told him he’d spit it out after the first bite, which sent all the kids into a frenzy of bickering, lighthearted insults and witty comebacks. Steve sighed, content as he ate several mouthfuls of the sandwich while listening to his kids squabble.

Jonathan was shaking his head over in the corner, observing this. “Guy’s a hero to those kids,” he murmured, only loud enough for Eddie to hear.

“Babysitter turned full-time mom turned hero,” Eddie smirks, amused. “Dude’s a legend.”

Jonathan scoffs, amused but also not. “Wasn’t always...”

Eddie clocks what he means by that. He knew King Steve, too. But Eddie can see a twinge of something else in Joanthan’s eyes, surprised to see it. Jealousy. It’s subtle. Not toxic, or even remotely a threat.

That is, until Jonathan sees Nancy moving to take a sandwich from Erica — her eyes wandering over to Steve and the kids. She looks enchanted, melancholy. Is she sad? Why is she sad?

…why is she sad looking at Steve?

Jonathan’s brow furrows. Eddie decides he better speak up and interrupt whatever he’s thinking. Because he sees it too. Uh oh.

“Trust me, he was a dick. I know. Told him so myself.” Eddie tries to make light of it, grinning. “But I think sometimes…some folks just need a big thump on the head. Shit, I did. I used to run away from alllllll my problems. Hell, I…I’ve even had my share of making others feel small, just so I can feel big. Not in a bad way, though. Never mean. Just…immature. Y’know? Point is, I’ve been there too. Maybe not as big a dick as Harrington…” He snorted. “No pun intended.”

Jonathan whipped his head in Eddie’s direction. What did that mean?

Eddie quickly tried to cover up his reference to the Hawkins High heartthrob’s manhood. “I just mean, I just mean — like — we’ve all been dicks. You know? Big ones. Small ones. Medium…sized…ones.”

He counted at least 5 perplexed blinks from Jonathan. Eddie sighed, exasperated with himself. “The point, the point. We uhh…we live and we learn. Right?”

Jonathan finally let his tense shoulders loosen up at that, but he glanced back at Nancy – who was still watching Steve as she got herself a glass of water and letting Robin ramble to her. And Jonathan also watched Steve, who was now telling Dustin to share the box of crackers with everyone and not hog them from everybody.

It began to click for Jonathan. The longing stares. The unusually strained affection between him and Nancy, ever since he got back. He knew that was partially his fault, if not entirely his fault, given him pulling away from her after moving to California. But then he got back to Hawkins, and realized the second he saw her that he’d been a fool to think he would ever be better off without her, or convince himself that she could be better off without him. One look at her made it all go away. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and Jonathan was definitely aware of that now.

But had it made Nancy’s heart grow fonder, too? For Jonathan?

…or had distance made her heart grow fonder for someone else…

Someone else who she had distanced herself from once before, when she found love and comfort in Jonathan Byers’ arms. Harrington had been away from Nancy when she was around Byers, and then Byers was away from Nancy when the world went to shit again, putting her back around Harrington again. No Byers in sight.

…was this karma? Jonathan Byers was beginning to wonder that. Was this what he got for so confidently whisking Wheeler away from Steve back in high school? Is this what he got for thinking he was safe?

…maybe that is what Steve meant when screaming at him earlier, as they tried to pump you back to life.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP.” Jonathan would never forget the way that Steve’s sounded as he spewed at him. Broken, anguished and betrayed.

“IT’S NOT WORKING,” Jonathan had wept bitterly. “IT’S TOO LATE.”

When Nancy had chosen Jonathan, Steve never got mad. He never got mad at either of them. He told Nancy he got it; that it was okay. And he never said anything to Byers about it. Next time they ran into each other, it was just tense silence. Steve might have picked a fight with Jonathan once before, that damn morning in the alleyway when Will was still missing. But that was 2 years ago now, and it felt childish compared to everything that had happened since then. Steve’s anger then was so subdued to what it could have been, and he never explored anger towards Jonathan once he had successfully managed to take his girl.

But the way that Steve Harrington looked at Jonathan now, while you were dead beneath their hands, was fueled by anger. Red hot and flaming. He looked ready to finally unleash on Jonathan, ready to blame him for his existence and how it only brought Steve grief. For once, Steve Harrington looked rightfully angry with Jonathan Byers for being the source of his pain. Steve looked ready to punch him square in the jaw and beat him up the way he’d had his own face beat up by not just Byers, but also Billy Hargrove and the Russians.

“DON’T SAY THAT. NO ONE GAVE UP ON YOUR BROTHER, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GIVE UP ON US NOW? THINK ANY OF US WANTED TO STOP WHEN WE THOUGHT IT WAS TOO LATE? FUCK YOU, BYERS. FUCK YOU.”

Jonathan deserved it. He completely deserved it. All of it. It had been a long time coming, and while it was over 2 years past due…he took it. All of it. Even what was still left unsaid. Jonathan let Steve verbally rip him to shreds before Eddie took over and brought you back to life with Steve instead of him.

And that’s why now, as Jonathan watched Nancy catch him staring at her — looking caught as she tried to give him a smile — he let it happen. He just gave her a reluctant smile back, accepting his fate. Because now, after what he had seen today, he realized that Steve wasn’t even a threat. Maybe a month or so ago, he would have been. But that wasn’t the case now, which he only knew after seeing the way that Steve clung to you and sobbed uncontrollably over your lifeless body – then afterwards, when you were alive again.

Steve no longer pined for Nancy Wheeler. He pined for you.

Not for long, though. Honestly, it was as clear as day that whatever was going on between the two of you was mutual. The way you held Steve earlier, comforted him — assuring him that it was alright, you were alright — and how you stroked his leg in the living room before he helped you upstairs and disappeared for a couple of hours into your assigned guest room… Jonathan knew, along with Eddie, that Steve Harrington’s heart was in your hands, and yours was his.

It’s what Jonathan and Eddie had brought up at the table. Not the whole “why hasn’t Steve unleashed his anger on me until today” aspect of things. But the fact that you and Steve, who seemingly could not stand each other, now seemed like a pair.

Nancy moved to sit next to Jonathan, who awkwardly poked at his soup bowl and did his best to fake a smile. Eddie watched them, knowing. Man, he could really use one of his guitars right now to pluck out the tension…

Lucas was saying something about Max needing to be checked on upstairs, which made Steve quickly shove the last of his sandwich into his mouth so that he could come help him and Erica along with Will, El and Mike. They all made their way up, and Dustin stayed behind. He moved over to the big kids table, bringing the box of crackers over with him. He plopped down next to Eddie, who was grateful for the comic relief after the tense talk at the table. Robin moved to bring over fresh cups of coffee, sitting between everyone.

“So uhhh, we gonna talk about it?”

Dustin’s question made everyone freeze.

Robin cocked an eyebrow, leaning onto her elbows to sip her coffee. “About what…?”

“About Bauman and Steve, and how we all clearly did not see it coming.”

Robin choked on her coffee. Nancy stiffened next to Jonathan, which he didn’t miss — considering her hand was resting on his forearm. Eddie drummed the table awkwardly while nodding and staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing.

“Yeeeeeee-up, caught me off guard,” Eddie said. “I’m normally good at picking up on that shit.”

Robin was still working on clearing her throat. “Look, we don’t know anything yet —”

“He’s literally your best friend, Robin,” Dustin accused with an eye roll. “If any of us know, you do.”

“Well my strange, tiny friend,” Robin quipped wryly, “I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark on this as you are.” She sighed, leaning back in her seat with a flash of concern in her eyes. “I really should have seen it coming, though. I was so sure he was just gonna keep on hating her guts.”

“I still don’t understand why he hated her at all,” Dustin said, adorably naive.

Eddie smirked, uneasy. “Meh, not important.”

“Seriously, they got along just fine whenever we fought the demodogs,” Dustin continued, oblivious. “And at the snowball, but then after that he just – went at it with her all the time, even though they would both still hang out with us. Like an old married couple.”

Nancy listened intently, trying to keep up and put the pieces together. Because truly, she herself had been wondering what changed. But she had been so focused on her life, in her own world with Jonathan and their jobs, she really hadn’t paid much attention to the fact that you and Steve had gotten along at the start, then not at all, and now…well…

Robin puffed out a breath of air. “Maybe they’ve just…gotten closer. You know, found a way to get along. Murray’s an ass, and even though she’s not and I love her, Steve’s not exactly the easiest to get along with even though I love him —”

Dustin scoffed. “Robin. He kissed her.”

Eddie clicked his tongue, trying to think of Metallica lyrics and avoid looking in Nancy or Jonathan’s direction.

Robin stared. “What?”

“When?” Nancy’s voice startled the room, and Jonathan seemed to cringe at it.

“Dustin,” Jonathan sighed.

“Today,” Dustin kept talking. “Whenever we…brought her back. He — he kissed her. He literally bawled on top of her and wouldn’t let her go.”

Dustin’s eyes lost all of the annoyance, now looking sad as he thought back on it all. Robin stared at him along with Nancy, barely breathing. Even Eddie looked over at him.

“I’ve never…I’ve never seen him that upset,” Dustin murmured. “Steve’s never sad. Not like that. I’ve never even seen him cry. Not once. Robin, did he ever cry while you both got tortured in the Russian chambers?”

Robin thinks back on that, gnawing at her lip, deep in thought. She shook her head, realizing… “No. No, he didn’t. Just – panicked, but not…he didn’t cry.”

“Exactly,” Dustin says. “Because he’s awesome. He’s brave, and cool, and awesome. Steve doesn’t cry. Today? He bawled.”

“Seeing someone die in front of you does that, man,” Eddie pointed out, melancholy. “I know I did whenever Chrissy died… You cried today. I did. Byers did.”

“Not like that,” Dustin insisted, voice firm. It made everyone go quiet again. “Not like that,” he repeated. “That’s how I would have cried if…like, if Suzy died. Or how Lucas did when Max died before we got her back. How Hopper and Joyce would. How Jonathan and Nancy would.”

That made the present couple go stiff. But Jonathan nodded, eyes boring a hole into his coffee mug. “S’true,” he mumbled. “If that were you, I would.”

Nancy looked at him, eyes guilty. Of course, it was the same for her. But she couldn’t focus on that right now. Not now that her collective thoughts and observations were confirmed. Now that she knew for sure…

“It’s not a matter of if they’re into each other,” Dustin kept going, certain. “It’s a matter of when. When did it start and how were we blind?”

But no one could answer that. Robin couldn’t, and she was shocked that she couldn’t. She knew her best friend all too well. How had she not seen this coming? How could she not have sensed that his never ending hatred towards you was slowly developing into liking you? Maybe even loving you…?

Eddie had only started sensing it that day. Until then, he had been the one to encourage Steve to go after Nancy. To get her back, win her over. But that stopped whenever Jonathan came back into the picture, of course. He knew better than to cross that line. Still, he knew that Harrington loved her and pined for her. He also knew why Harrington couldn’t stand you, along with Robin. They adored you, hoping at some point that you both could just become friends who tolerated each other. Eddie never thought it would become more than that: a civilized friendship.

And Nancy felt something heavy sit on top of her chest that she really could not seem to accept yet: the truth. She lost Steve.

“Alright, guessing game is over.”

Murray’s voice rounding the corner made everyone jump, and he eyed down everyone at the table as he walked in with his empty soup bowl. He made for the sink, turning on the faucet with his eyes still glued to the five people seated at the dining table, who stared back awkwardly. Finally, he looked down as he washed his dish.

“Take it from the witchdoctor of love: those two had it coming.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, completely amused.

Jonathan, however, was not. This was so karma.

“...had what coming?” Dustin asked.

Robin shot him a look — bless his little naive heart.

“Psh, c’monnnn,” Murray said, rinsing the bowl. “The sexual tension. The incessant arguing. Harrington’s personal utmost disdain towards her.”

Nancy spoke up, unable to help herself. “But…why though? She didn’t do anything wrong. Why would he have disdain towards her…?”

Jonathan hated how irritated Nancy’s question made him feel towards her. It irked him deeply, but he just let it fester quietly as he sat there staring down at his cup of black coffee and having no choice but to listen.

Murray looked at Nancy with the most condescending expression, uncensored as fuck. “Honey…really?”

Off Nancy’s clueless expression, Murray rolled his eyes in the back of his skull as he slapped the faucet off before whirling to face them.

“Once upon a time, two years ago: you and Jonathan came over to my bunker — uninvited — waltzing your way into my business, along with my niece’s. Thankfully, to our benefit, you helped us crack the case and — not so much to our benefit — onboarded us into your mess. But rewinding back a few slides, you two stayed over because of the vodka coursing through all of our veins and tried to convince the two of us — AKA yourselves — that you two were just friends. Which was the biggest load of unbelievable bullshit you both could have told me, and that’s after you told me everything pertaining to the absurdity and pure insanity regarding the upside down. But really, it was a great belly laugh for me and my niece, so thank you. Thennnn, my niece offered to let you both take her bed — not buying a lick of it, and suggesting you both stop being in denial. On top of that, as a former student at Hawkins High, she knew King Steve very well. She knew how Wheeler and Harrington both started dating, and how much closer the two of you —” (he gestured between Jonathan and Nancy) “— had gotten since Will Byers went missing then got rescued. Because my niece isn’t stupid. She could’ve been class valedictorian if she’d wanted to, but — being like her cynical uncle — she didn’t wanna. She’s a street-smart annnnnd booksmart cookie. She knew you both were bound to let the trauma bond get you both together, and that genuine love had formed between the two of you way more than it had between her and Steve. So she called it out, after being fed a bunch of coo-coo-bananas nonsense from you guys in my casa about being 'platonic.' "

Eddie's jaw was practically touching the table. This was literally the best story he's ever heard, and it had just freaking started.

Robin felt like she was watching a movie in her mind, one in which her best friend was the main character and she was rooting for him like life depended on it.

"Fast forward to the lab, El’s grand return, Will’s exorcism, the demodogs, the Snowball, and our little house party that followed —” (he pointed at Dustin) “— you forgot that part — turns out, Jonathan Byers can’t take his liquor, so what does he do? He goes over to my niece, who’s standing in the kitchen — like so,” (he gestured to himself) “ — and starts profusely thanking her in a string of loud, slurred, drunken words, about how he was chosen one, and how he got the girl, alllllll thaaaaannnksss toooo myyyyyy niiiieeeeeccccce."

Nancy's blood ran cold. What?

"And because it was such a small house, no offense Henderson, unlike Casa Harrington — the king himself heard it all. Every lick of it. So of course, who’s he gonna hate with a fiery burning passion more than he ever could hate Jonathan Byers for stealing his girl? The person who told him to do it. Myyyyyy niece. Because he can’t hate Nancy Wheeler, never-ever-ever could he hate the girl he swore was the love of his life. And he couldn’t even hate Jonathan, because what had he done except be the victim of King Steve’s incessant bullying and his horrible posse of friends in high school while his brother was missing in another dimension? But Steve had to hate someone. To loathe someone, blame someone, more than himself. So he chose her. He chose my niece — and by extension me, but mainly her. Because she was a part of the gang now, and around way more than I ever have been around you kids. Which is to be expected. So blah-blah-blah, hate-hate-hate, fight-fight-fight — soooo muchhhh traaaauma.”

Murray paused for dramatic effect, soaking in everybody's faces, then continued.

“...and what happens when there is trauma?... bonding. Trauma bonding. Forced alliance. The need to put aside your differences, so that you all can just get along and survive. And that leads to talking…which leads to more fighting…eventually, tears. Lots of ugly words that can’t be taken back. And then…suddenly…” Murray snaps his fingers. “Common ground.”

No one has made a sound, hanging onto Murray’s every word.

“Vecna ends the world. At least, Hawkins. We all somehow manage to survive it. We all need somewhere to goooo…and we wind up here. In a house, all underneath the same roof. Forced to coexist. Therefore, newfound respect and understanding is acquired when in close quarters. Just as the two of you, Ms. Wheeler and Mr. Byers, found in my bunker. Steve and my niece found themselves forced to live with one another, the space between them closing in. Gap by gap, inch by inch…until…”

Murray made a gesture that looked like that of a magician, everyone’s eyes following. “Magic.” He walks closer, slowly. “Some small talk becomes bigger talk. Some childhood trauma that decorates the walls of Harrington’s house becomes the topic of conversation. My niece just so happens to be a really good listener, and Steve happens to be in need of one. They both discover they’re the only child in both their families. His parents are absent. Hers were barely ever present, before surrendering her to both mine and my mother’s care. But she doesn’t mention that yet, no — why? Because she’s listening. Relating. Understanding. Meanwhile, Steve feels heard. Seen. Relevant. Important. Like maybe whatever he has to say matters. Fast forward some more, blah-blah-blah…some more co-parenting later…which honestly, is the only reason those two maintained some sort of peace in the first place — aside from the inevitable perils that we all have had to face and be paid to keep our mouths shut about…”

Murray points to Dustin, who stares at him — agape.

“You kids are the damn glue holding those two doomed enemies-soon-to-be-lovers together. Not that you knew that. You’re kids, and you don’t know that shit yet. Which is good. And they love that. Steve might hate her, but he’s not gonna make you kids hate her. And she finds him infuriating, but she isn’t gonna let you all know that by persuading you to feel the same. Because he loves you rugrats, and you all love him…and you rugrats love her, as she loves you. Fast forward to a night when all the kiddos are fast asleep, and the adults get a night to themselves with some cups of chilled vodka that fuels everyone’s laughter and newfound liquid courage — but just enough to give a light buzz, rather than sloshed drunkenness — the enemies, who’ve now become somewhat of friends…realize that they feel more. Or at least, that’s what I observed. Grilled my niece about it, that night before bed — and next thing you know — she is the victim of Uncle Murray’s love-talk lectures. Just like you two were. She’s swearing up and down that she cannot stand Steve, and that he cannot stand her. She insists they are mortal enemies. That he hates her. Will forever hate her. And then…that rambling turns into truth. Admittance. Denial, still. But it’s enough to go off, allowing me to paint the picture and speak the truth into the world out loud: WE DO LOVE STEVE.”

Nancy freezes at that, eyes wide and heart blue. She swallows thickly, and Jonathan feels sick.

Murray's conductor waving hands settled down, ready for the grand finish.

“...someone had to love Steve. But it wasn’t you, Ms. Nancy Wheeler. Not forever, anyway. Not in the desperate, novel-esque ways we all read about or see in the cinemas. But it was her. You liked Steve, so that she could love Steve. And he loved you, so that he could hate her…only to realize that he loved her. Deeply...madly...and truly.”

Murray leaned back, letting his rant come to a full stop. The air was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Mouths agape, brains fried and heartbeats racing. They were stunned into shocked silence. With a sigh, Murray made for the fridge.

“Do me a favor…” He grabbed some juice, along with the vodka, pouring himself a cup. Then, with a severe look in his eye, he faced the group again.

“Don’t make a damn fuss about it yet, yeah? Not yet. Not to them. Wanna do it with each other, go ahead. But maybe lay off them for a bit, will you? Hmm?”

Everyone was surprised at the uncharacteristic parental tone in Murray’s voice and the look in his eyes. They felt parented now.

“Maybe let the shock of this newfound realization they both just came to accept barely before my niece stopped breathing today…I dunno…simmer down a bit, yeah?”

Dustin gulped, nodding. Robin did, too. Eddie had pretty much bitten his nails down to stubs at this point, and Jonathan had shrunk so far down into his chair he was practically on the floor now. Meanwhile, Nancy looked like a heartbroken child who’d just been told that Santa Claus wasn’t real. With that, Murray raised his glass of jungle juice and exited the kitchen — vanishing, leaving the group to sit there in their own unsettled energy.

So when Lucas, Erica and Steve all shuffled back down the stairs, it alarmed them. Robin stared at Steve and the kids, while Eddie rose to stand and grab the box of crackers from Dustin. Jonathan swigged his coffee. Nancy just stared at Steve helplessly.

“Alright, who needs more food before we all turn in for the night?” Steve asked as he moved to put away the sandwich fixings with Erica.

Nobody spoke, making Lucas look at them with a quizzical expression. Erica did the same, stopping as she went to put the sleeve of bologna back into the snack pan. Steve had been busy picking up discarded bowls and plates before he finally looked at everyone, too. He cocked an eyebrow, confused.

“You, uhhh…you guys okay…?”

Robin tried to speak, choking on air. Steve squinted at his best friend. Finally, she found her voice. “Sorry. Got the jitters. Too much coffee.”

She stood up hastily, collecting everyone else’s cups — even Jonathan’s, who was mid-sip. Robin avoided Steve’s gaze as she dumped them into the sink with a very fake, wide toothy-grin. She hummed while rinsing the cups, and Eddie clapped his hands together when rising to stand himself.

“Better, uhh, go re-dress my, uhh — dressings.”

“I got you,” Robin said, splashing the hot water and dropping the sponge so that she could hurriedly dry off her hands and follow Eddie out of the room – giving Steve a quick kiss on the head. He watched her go, curious.

But then he saw Jonathan and Nancy sitting over at the table still, along with Dustin — who was staring back at him sheepishly. The curly-haired kid stood up, clearing his throat and shuffling over with the now very-empty box of crackers. He whistled while tossing it into the garbage and moved to finish the dishes. That definitely made Steve raise an eyebrow. But he figured it was out of pity, so instead he just gave the kid a pat on the back and ruffled his hair before going back to tidying up the kitchen.

Nancy felt queasy. Really queasy. And looking at Steve was not helping, especially being seated next to Jonathan. She rose to stand, making him look at her back with queasiness of his own. He watched the back of his girlfriend as she started to turn to look back at him…and when she couldn’t, it made his heart sink. She walked towards the living room, disappearing behind the wall. But not before passing by Joyce, who made her way into the kitchen to give Steve a motherly touch on the arm.

“Dr. Owens will be here first thing in the morning,” she told him, reassuringly. “Real early. Probably 6AM. Hopper’s letting Murray know.”

Nancy refused to let herself cry that night about Steve Harrington and her newly unrequited love.

Jonathan watched his mom comfort Steve, and while it made him grateful it also made him sad. Steve sighed with relief as he thanked Mrs. Byers, and when his mother began to help him find some temporary pain medication that Dr. Owen’s instructed her to give you, he decided he couldn’t listen anymore and left.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, do you?” Dustin asked. “You know, heart-wise or anything…?”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Joyce told him sweetly, rubbing Steve’s back as he leaned against the kitchen counter with a tense back. “Her heart, her shoulder, her mind. Everything.”

Steve took deep breaths, and Erica would have hugged him if she weren’t so profusely against giving anyone any sort of physical affection.

Lucas, however, did move to squeeze Steve’s shoulder next to Joyce. After all the comfort he’d gotten from him after Max died, then got brought back…and still received, with her being in a coma…Lucas understood Steve’s pain.

No one knew it, but Lucas had secretly caught onto Steve’s feelings for you whenever he went to visit Max in her room one morning but heard you both sitting in there. Selfishly, he’d stayed behind the cracked door to listen in…and it made him freeze in place. They way you and Steve bonded, despite all the rivalry between you both. The way you both spoke to one another in Max’s presence, like she was keeping the storm at bay despite being asleep. Lucas felt as though he was listening to a conversation taking place between two fighting parents, who were finally finding common ground. He had secretly listened like a little kid, leaning against the wall, giddy and heartbroken at the same time. Lucas wasn’t sure why, but he knew. He just knew. You two were crazy for one another. Maybe because he and Max had their struggles, too. Maybe something about the way Steve pushed you, and you pushed Steve — maybe it reminded him of them, just as older teens. Steve was his hero, and you were Max’s. He would give anything to talk with her about it, to hear whatever she had to say about the two of you…the unlikely duo…

But he didn’t say anything about it. He felt it best not to push anything. Not yet. When Max woke up, he would. But maybe now, he wouldn’t have to. Because Steve had been faced with the possibility of losing you. And if he was gonna mess that up, then that's preposterous. Then Lucas would say something.

***

That night, Steve crawled back upstairs and ran into Robin coming out of his bedroom, having just discarded Eddie’s only wound dressings in the hallway bathroom and changing into her pajamas. She was staying in Steve’s room, per usual. And she wondered if she might have just caught him coming upstairs to sneak into your room and not his. At this rate, nothing was a surprise anymore. Thanks, Murray.

“Hey, dingus,” she grinned. Steve grinned back.

“You gonna finally get some sleep?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, gesturing to the blankets in her hands. “Was just gonna go give Eds some fresh blankets.”

“Lemme know if you need help with that, seriously. His wounds, I mean. I’ll have Dr. Owens check on him tomorrow too, whenever he comes to check on Bauman.”

Robin nodded, biting her lip. God, she wanted to ask him so many questions. Hug him. Tell her best friend to spill the damn beans. Demand him to cry, to break down in front of her. To scream. To laugh. Anything.

“Robs, you good?”

“Steve, I love you,” Robin blurted. “Like – love you to death. Best friends forever. Just — just…” She bit her lip some more, trying really hard to think before she speaks. Steve waited patiently, a bit nervous. Robin sighed. “Just know that…I’m here. And I’m always gonna be here. Supporting you, with…whatever you need. Even if that’s to shut up and just help you with something and not ask you any questions. Alright…?”

Steve’s eyes sparkled, and he stitched up the distance between them to give her the tightest of hugs. His best friend of a soulmate. Platonic with a capital P. Robin hugged him back fiercely, dropping the blankets. She sagged with relief. Thank God.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Steve mumbled into her hair.

“Cool.”

“Bed’s all yours. Spread out. Starfish. Steal all the covers.”

Robin snorted into Steve’s shoulder, squeezing him tighter. “Okay. Cool, yay.”

Steve chuckled too, squeezing her to death. He really did have the best friend in the world. They swayed a bit like that for a moment, content and comforted in each others’ embrace. Then finally, Steve pulled back and Robin ruffled his hair. He rolled his eyes, swatting at her lightly as she grinned wide. Scooping down to pick up the blankets, he handed them back over to Robin. She smirked.

“Is she a cover hog, too?” Robin teased.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t ask questions?”

Robin saluted, making her way towards the stairs. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve could finally breathe for the first time all day, aside from whenever you were safely in his arms. Knowing that he had his best friend on his side without needing to have a full blown conversation about anything yet…that really helped lighten the load a bit. He exhaled deeply, letting the relief seep into his bones as he made his way to his bedroom door.

***

Once inside, Steve felt his heart swell. There you were, tucked in bed still, sleeping peacefully. Steve walked over to crouch over and kiss your forehead, gently stroking your hair. He noticed you seemed to still be in the same position. Almost like you hadn’t moved at all. He looked at the clock. It’s…been hours. Several hours. At least 4. He looked back down at you, seeing how still you were in the dark.

His heart stopped. Were you too still?

Steve placed a trembling hand underneath your nose, too shaky to be able to tell. But when he felt nothing, he frantically grabbed your wrist — yanking it off your chest to feel for a pulse —

You moved, stirring awake and looking at him groggily. Steve just about collapsed, clutching your hand and bringing it to his lips as he sunk down onto his knees.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and another to your palm.

You groaned lightly, moving to turn towards Steve and yawning. He melted.

“How long have I been out…” you asked him sleepily.

“Hours,” he told you. “Which is good. You need sleep.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering tiredly. “M’hungry.”

That made Steve grin ear to ear. “I can fix that. Want me to bring it up here?”

A grin slowly made its way onto your face too, and you nodded gratefully. Steve squeezed your hand, leaning forward to peck your forehead and your nose and your lips before promising you he would return.

When he did, he came back with the bowl of hot soup that your uncle had kept warm for you along with water and some pain medication. You were sitting up now, leaning against Steve’s chest as he sat with his legs caging you in and leaned up against the headboard. You had just taken the medication a few minutes earlier, now sipping on the hot soup and a tall glass of water that Steve held onto for you.

The little bedside table lamp cast a soft glow in the Harrington’s upstairs guest bedroom, and the sound of light rain outside of the window filled the room along with the plink of your spoon against the soup bowl. Steve felt grounded as he kept his arms around your waist, circled around you as he held you close. His chin sat on top of your head, and the scent of his lavender shampoo in your hair filled his senses with peace.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Steve’s question surprised you as you slurped another spoonful of soup, but you swallowed and felt the corner of your lip twerk up into a little smile.

“Yellow.”

Steve felt himself smile at that, squeezing you a little tighter. “Guess this shirt was a good choice, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you bought two. Rich kid perks ain’t so bad.”

There was lightheartedness to your tone that Steve found himself adoring. Craving, and yearning to hear more of – should time be on all of your side, in this godforsaken town.

“I wonder if Vecna’s rockin’ my other one down there.”

“Nah, the dogs are.”

Steve snorted, giving your hips a little squeeze and pressing a kiss to your temple. You sighed against him, sinking back and placing the bowl of soup onto your lap.

“What’s yours?” you asked him curiously, watching the shadow of the raindrops on the ceiling as they slid down the window.

“Blue. Sky blue.”

You hummed, placing one of your hands that sat on your stomach onto his and interlacing yours fingers. “Like a pretty, non-upside-down clear blue sky?”

“Schyeah, that.” Steve rested his chin back on top of your head as he glanced out the window, the black sky and rainfall sending a shiver down his spine. He wondered if the world would ever feel normal again…

Steve decided to ask you more normal questions, wanting to pretend that none of the dystopian reality just outside his house was real — just for one night. He asked you what your favorite movie was, shocked to find that you loved romcom’s. Especially Endless Love, Pretty in Pink and Working Girl. He wasn’t sure why he thought you’d say dark movies, or maybe sci-fi hits. Maybe Steve didn’t know what he expected you to say. But regardless, your answers fascinated him. He loved learning why you thought Sigourney Weaver’s character was misunderstood in Working Girl, which led to you both discussing women in the work force and how they should receive higher pay – equal to the men. Steve agreed with you, liking how passionate you were about it yet graceful and humble at the same time. You were smart, but somehow underestimated. It was strange. You were strange. Turns out, he loved ‘strange.’

And it also turns out, Steve liked not only action flicks — but dramas, too. Footloose and Baby Boom were on his list of guilty pleasure movies.

“Baby Boom??” you asked incredulously. But you weren’t mocking him, rather genuinely intrigued and amused.

“Hey, it’s adorable,” Steve defends himself with a fake scoff. “She adopts a damn baby and raises her as her own. Be nice.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, tilting your head back to look at him. “God…no wonder you love those kids so much. You’re a natural born mother.”

“Okay but seriously, since when did I become mom and not dad?”

“Apparently, I’m dad.”

“Again: since when?” Steve's tone made you chuckle deeply.

You and Steve talked until your tongues were tired, eventually having moved to lean back onto the pillows. He rested his head into his palm, propped up on an elbow and stroking up your side as you both enjoyed innocent pillow talk. Softly spoken voices, hushed just enough to hear one another. Real hearty laughter that you both muffled into your palms, or each others’ necks, so that you wouldn’t wake anyone. Sweet confessions about food preferences, least favorite holidays, questioning religion while wanting to believe in a god. How Steve thought that vodka was the kiss of death, while you found cigarettes to be disgusting. Steve craved strawberry ice cream, while you were a sucker for plain old vanilla. He loved diners, and you did too. He swore pancakes over waffles, and you made it very clear that French toast was the clear winner. It was a give and take conversation, and you both found it resulted in far more agreements than not. It was the loveliest conversation that either of you’d had in years. Maybe ever. Not just with each other…but with anyone at all.

“So…six kids and a Winnebago, huh?”

Steve’s eyes danced in the moonlight, looking at you with pure adoration. Shyly, he tucked your hair behind your ear, slowly nodding. “Heard that, huh?”

You gave him a little smirk. “It was a pretty small Winnebago.”

He shook his head fondly, then — “Yeah. Turns out being an only child gets to you.”

You nodded sadly. “Yeah. It does.”

Steve hated that you knew that same loneliness. But then again, was that what made you both see each other so clearly? Is that why you knew his deeply rooted longing and misery better than anyone else? Is that why maybe, just maybe…in telling Nancy to run off with Jonathan…you were protecting him? He wondered these things as he looked into your angel eyes, not knowing how in the world he could have not looked at them like this before…especially right when he met you.

You told Steve how you’d always wanted a dog growing up, which led to his immediately confessing he wanted a lab or golden retriever. You nodded eagerly. Yes. Those, or a border collie. A dog that felt like a true family member. Even a stray mutt who needed a home. You both laughed at the funny names you both wanted to name them as kids. Winston, Jeffery, Petunia, PeeWee, Pumpkin, Count Duku. When Steve suggested pancakes as a name, you had to literally turn your head into the pillow to keep your laughter from roaring through the room and waking the household. Even Steve felt like he’d pee himself from laughing so hard, watching you laugh so hard.

God, you were beautiful. You were so beautiful.

…when you smiled up at Steve, bashfully, he realized that he’d said it out loud. “So are you,” you breathed.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not, though.”

Your brow creased. “Yes, you are. You know you are…and if you don’t –”

“I don’t.”

“Well, you are,” you said simply.

Steve pressed his lips together, self-conscious. How had he felt so damn confident all those years in high school, even middle school, but not now? You reached up to push back some of his perfect hair, caressing his cheek.

“I haven’t been,” he confessed, almost in a whisper. “Not to you. I’ve been ugly. Really ugly.”

You looked into his guilty eyes, but Steve couldn’t find any anger or sadness in yours. Just understanding and forgiveness.

“I was, too,” you admitted.

“No,” Steve shook his head, adamantly. “Not like me.”

“Steve, I wrecked your life. Well, your love life. But still, I wrecked it.”

“No, you only wrecked it when you left it,” Steve confessed, bitter at the memory but not at you.

Never at you. Never again.

“Telling me I deserve better, and I…told you that you deserved…nothing.” He visibly winces at his own words. “God, I’m so sorry —”

“Steve,” you stopped him softly, cupping his cheeks. “Don’t. I’ve forgiven it. Really. You didn’t know. You were hurt.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Steve whispered, looking at you with those beautiful doe eyes that shone in the moonlight. “I actively made a point to stop hurting people, and I did it again anyway. Worse. Way worse than my stupid King Steve days.”

You shrugged, trying to make him smile again. “King Steve was pretty amateur compared to the hard ass you became.”

Steve bit back a laugh, maybe even some tears. Still, he let the joke land. You crane your neck up to nuzzle his nose, making him sigh and return the eskimo kiss. Then you hissed in pain, letting out a little groan.

“What's wrong?” he asked worriedly, brow pinched.

“Stupid shoulder,” you muttered. “My ribs, too, damn…”

Steve looked down at your ribcage sadly, splaying his fingers there against your skin underneath his yellow crewneck. He sighed. “That’s because of me,” he confessed sadly. “Pounding on you nonstop today with the compressions.”

“Well in that case, I’ll take it. Pain’s good.”

You winked at him, and Steve tried to let that comfort him. It did, for the most part. Your oxygen intake really made it worth it, in the end. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you did the same.

“I don’t know where we’re headed,” Steve whispered against you. “Hawkins. The country. The world.” He paused, breathing you in. “Just know I want you there. All the time.”

You smiled, eyes still closed, heart fluttering. “Good. You’re stuck with me, Harrington. Bothering the ever-living shit outta you.”

“Bother me till I go insane,” Steve breathed, nuzzling his nose against you and grinning like an idiot. He felt happy. Absurdly happy. Who thought that was possible?

“...Steve?”

He opened his eyes slightly, finding yours were already looking into his. He waited, pulling back nervously. Which is stupid, considering you’d just told him you felt the same way. That you wanted to stay by his side, no matter what happens. So why was he thinking that just changed within a 3-second timespan? Why was he suddenly worried that you —

“I love you so much.”

19 years flashed before Steve’s eyes at that moment. His childhood. His pre-teens, and all the teen years that followed. He thought back to every single I love you that had been spoken to him. It hadn’t been many. At least not many that meant anything to him. He could count on one hand the amount of I love you’s that meant something to him over the course of 19 years. But now, he could count on one finger the one that meant the very most to him.

“I love you so much, too,” Steve breathed, eyes glassy and mesmerized as they looked back into yours. “God, you’ve no idea, I…”

Steve felt overwhelmed. He scrunched his eyes shut, resting his forehead to yours again and caressing your cheeks. He pecked your face, every inch of it, slowly. Little kisses peppering your face. “I love you so much.”

He could have bawled on the spot if he weren’t so completely entranced, swept up in the tidal wave of joy that splashed across his heart, mind, body and soul. Steve could bawl about it later. Right now, he simply leaned into your touch and vowed to never let you go.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

bless Murray and his impeccably uncensored madness. about time he set everyone straight, damn.

as alwaysssss, thank u for reading :) this series is so much fun. please comment, it always makes my day.

TAG LIST [if I forgot u, pls lmk and pls forgive me]

@xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst @goosy-goose

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fanfiction #enemies to lovers trope #joe keery #baron marmalade #jkeeryedit #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #mishas masterlists #Steve Harrington is a mother #mom steve

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 2 years ago

Text

No Pain, No Gain | Part 4, Final | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

A:N: Thank you all soooo much for joining me on this one, it was a blast to write. This chapter kinda made me feral writing it ngl. Cheers to my hype mama @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 And I know I mentioned it in the first part but really it’s Ange as well as @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya and @sapphire-writes that inspired me to write this from their AMAZING modern fics, so please give them all the love as well.

Series Masterlist | Warnings under the cut!

warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, pussy slapping, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Aemond being mean during sex lowkey love it tho

Lucky for you, the flight wasn’t too long.

Even though you had Baela on your shoulder snoozing, nothing could tear your mind off the sheer idiocy of the previous week.

You’d fucking kissed him.

Or he’d kissed you? At this point the whole memory was foggy.

All you know is that you were mere seconds away from tearing his fucking clothes off in his home gym and letting him have you on any flat surface there was.

You thought how wrong it was. You were paying this guy!

And yet there was a lingering feeling in the back of your mind, a heat clawing its way up your neck, like a constant ache almost at the thought of what would have happened if you hadn’t bolted. The endless possibilities were…vividly playing on your brain the entire plane journey.

‘Fucking perfect’

Even his voice had made a permanent home in your mind, his hot breath against your ear as he pinned you against the wall, allowing you to feel just how turned on he had been.

You obeyed Baela’s wishes and only told Maris about the kiss.

It turned out that Baela’s Dad, Daemon, had really gone all out for this retreat. In a place called Lys (which you’d scarcely heard of) on the other side of the island from where the airport was, it was quiet, with only the odd resident along the streets, but for the most part it was completely remote. You’d have to thank him for the personal taxi later.

Baela had slept through the plane journey entirely so now she just looked out the windows tiredly.

“Is your Dad and Rhaenyra already there?” you ask, seemingly breaking her from a tired trance.

She stretches, “Yeah they’ve been here ages already, the rest of the fam are here as well, we’re the last”

“Why’s that?” you ask.

Baela smirks mischievously, “There’s some tension at the moment, flights were staggered for the sake of people’s sanity”

“Oh right”

You can still hear his voice, the breathy tone he’d used.

‘Fuck…’

Bad girl. Stop it.

At least it’d be nice to have the better part of a week abroad, miles and miles away from the man in question who was making every thought sinful. You could finally relax.

“Is it a big resort?” you asked.

“Oh it’s not one big place, we’ve all got separate little villas. You and I are with Rhaena and her boyfriend, Cregan. Alicent and her fam are in the one next to us. Dad’s done us the courtesy of being the furthest away so we can’t hear him and Rhaenyra going at it”

“Ew Baela” you scrunch your nose, “Is Alicent nice?”

“Nice enough to us. Look out for Aegon though”

“The manwhore one, right. The one we ran into?”

“Yeah, I didn’t tell him you were coming for a reason. The slut will be all over you”

“Yeah no thanks, I might get syphilis” you joke, smoothing your hands over your legs.

You’d changed on the plane to a pair of black shorts and a tank top, and it was a good job you did. It was hot in Lys. Bloody roasting. And if that wasn’t bad enough. It was humid as well, which meant the forgoing of a bra. But c'est la vie, you supposed, you were on holiday, you looked great, felt great and couldn’t wait to get in the sun and just soak it all up.

You and Baela spent the last 30 minutes of the journey installing Tinder on your phone to check out the selection of men (and women, just out of curiosity) in Lys. But being a small island, you were picking up on people who lived hours away, in places you’ve never heard of either.

To your dismay, not many people on Tinder in Lys, shockingly. So you stuffed your phone away as you pulled up to the resort. The resort, or at least the one which you’d share with Rhaena and Cregan, was a single floored villa with what you assumed was two bedrooms on each side. It was nice and quaint.

“Cute” you comment.

Next to that little villa was another bigger one, two floors, slightly more bedrooms you’d wager. That must be where Alicent would be staying.

“She still came even though Viserys died?” you ask Baela, but she only raises her eyebrows.

“It’s not like they were in love”

Fair.

Between the two villas there was a large shared pool that was separated into two sections and a tiny kiosk in the corner where a bartender was packing away stock. Rounding the taxi, you pull your luggage out with a huff.

“Bartender is not too shabby” Baela wiggles her eyebrows and you shove her playfully.

She’s right. He ain’t bad looking at all. Suitably tanned, perhaps even a native to the island, his white shirt only serves to emphasise the way his arms are so toned. It’s a nice distraction for sure, even if nothing ends up happening.

It’s still early afternoon so plenty of time to get dressed and soak up the sun. But as you’re pulling your suitcase out of the taxi, you’re ogling the bartender so hard that it falls out the boot of the car.

“Christ” you whisper.

A woman from the bigger villa rounds the corner with long, curled auburn hair. You assume she must be Alicent, but she looks far too young to have four kids all grown up. She gives Baela a polite wave and turns, “Boys, help them with their bags, would you?”

“Oh no, we’re fine!” you say back, giving her a wave and kneeling to the floor to pick up all your bags.

“Thanks Aeg” Baela says as her bag is plucked from her grasp easily. You pull one bag over your shoulder and attempt to pull your suitcase to its side.

“Struggling?”

You froze.

Oh fuck.

You knew that voice. But you dare not look up.

You stand with your hand on the handle of your suitable, eyes fixed solely on anywhere but where you know he is stood, smirking.

An involuntary breath manages to escape when his large hand, the one you remembered pressing against your waist last time, brushed against yours to wrap around the handle of the suitcase. He takes it effortlessly, making you finally look up at him.

He makes no secret of eyeing every bit of you, savouring the parts he’s never seen before, like the expanse of your legs, having previously always been covered by gym leggings. Smooth and leading to the spot where his eye pauses for a moment. To the tops of your thighs sneaking out of your shorts, he eyes them as well with a dark, determined look. The corner of his lip curled up somewhat once he saw the tank top and your lack of anything underneath.

He looks disgustingly good, at least since the last time you saw him. Hair once again, in that slutty fucking bun.

He’s only wearing shorts, perhaps he’d been sunbathing as well, but clearly not had much of a tan yet. His chest, which you’d never seen bare before, was glistening under the sun, toned and well defined with lines running all over. You caught yourself from looking at the dip of his hips, at the lines leading down to where you knew you wouldn’t be able to not look if you did. So you painfully refrained and looked back into his mismatched eyes, at the glowing pride sitting there at your obvious ogling of his form.

He chuckles quietly and takes your suitcase to take into your room, as if he just needed an excuse to see the inside of it. You stood stock still in your position, watching the muscles of his back move as he walks, as if he just knows you’re watching him.

Which of course, you are.

You bite the inside of your cheek, both ragingly horny and annoyed at the same time.

And when you look over at Baela, she bites her lip, mouthing I didn’t know.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you” you whispered and she laughed nervously, as if really believing you’d do it.

Once the two Targaryen brothers had evacuated your rooms, you pushed Baela inside your shared room and slammed the door.

“Woah woah chill, what’s the big deal?” she asked, searching your eyes.

“Baela, why the fuck is he here?” you whisper, clearly stressed.

“The fuck is up with you?”

“Fuck’s sake, Baela, we kissed!”

She’s quiet for a moment and you expect her to freak out, but she just raises an eyebrow, “Is that it?”

“Baela!”

“You didn’t bang?”

“Fuck’s sake, no! I mean… we might have if I hadn’t run off…but it felt too weird-I was paying him-”

“You ran off?” Baela snorts.

“Shut the fuck up”

“What are you afraid of dick now?”

“Baela, I just-I couldn’t, it felt too weird-it’s not like I didn’t want to but-fuck”

Baela puts her arms on your shoulders, “Babe, calm down. Listen, he's not your personal trainer anymore, mm’kay? He’s just ‘creepy Aemond’, now get your ass in that bikini so we can see the fruits of your labours alright? Get in that fucking sun”

“He’s not creepy, Bae” you reply, exasperated by the situation you’ve been put in.

“Regardless, get out there. Show him what he’s missing” Baela winks, zipping open her bag to get her swimming stuff, “You’re hot, y/n. Show him”

With an annoyed sigh, you shed your clothes, not caring about whether you’re naked in front of Baela or not. A few years in a house-share with her meant you’d walked in on each other nude more than once.

“Well?” she grins, you look over, bottom half of the black bikini now on, and your jaw drops.

“Oh my god” you say, looking over at her. She has a bikini of her own, pale blue in colour and one that compliments her skin tone well. Hers has ties that she’s double knotted, “You look fit”

“Thank you” she says with a smile, as if she knows it anyway.

You pull your bikini top on, making sure your boobs are well rested and adjusted inside the top. The bottoms are double knotted at the hips, the top a classic one that ties around your neck and back. Once the girls are where they’re meant to be, you look over yourself in the mirror, and you had to admit, the one month program did a number on you. Thighs and legs, slightly more toned, curves smoothed over, arms had a bit more shape to them, but nothing that screamed ‘ah yeah I work out’. And more than anything, the ass looked amazing. You knew you had an ass anyway, but now…

“What do you think?” you ask Baela, pulling your hair up messily.

She looks at you in the mirror, “I give it a day” she says as she smears lotion over her body.

“Until?”

“Til Aemond’s had you on every flat surface here”

“You’re fucking gross, you know that”

“Bet you 5 gold dragons”

“You’re on, bitch”

Once suitably sun-creamed up, skin glistening with it, you rest your sunglasses on top of your head and take a deep breath, going out to be greeted by the warm, humid air. Luckily, only Aegon seems to be sat outside on a sunbed at the moment, his hat resting over his face. Baela happily passes you a bright orange cocktail, and not quite ready to get into the pool, you sit on the side and dip your legs in, the smell of chlorine making you feel like you were finally on holiday.

Aegon lifts his hat, squinting, “Hello ladies”

Baela dips into the pool, “Manwhore”

“Well that’s not very nice”

Aegon doesn’t make any further effort to speak, plopping his hat back over his face, one airpod in his ear. Sipping the cool drink you scan the area. The villas are cute and luxurious and from here down the cobbled path you can see the beach that backs onto it all, the glaring white sand calling to you and the rush of the waves against them are somewhat calming.

The little bar in the corner plays some quiet music, not loud enough to disturb anyone from their sunbathing or other holiday-like activities. Alicent sits on the other side underneath a parasol, she’s wearing a classy one-piece and for a woman with four kids grown up, she doesn’t show it one bit, slender and youthful. She reads a book in her lap, sunglasses rested firmly on her nose, a diet-coke in one hand.

The only sound at the moment was the quiet music and the rippling of water as Baela swam leisurely in the pool, careful not to get her hair wet.

It was nice.

Down the cobbled path, you hear the grunts of what sound like two male voices. Arching an eyebrow and tipping your sunglasses up, there’s two men, suitably broad, making their way up to your villa.

“Ah, my favourite cousin has arrived!” this guy is shorter, but not short by any means, he has wild curly brown hair and wearing shorts that reach to about his knees. Not a red flag per se but…

Baela splashes him from her spot in the pool, “See you two are getting along famously”

The other guy with him you recognise as Cregan Stark, Rhaena’s current boyfriend. You’d seen him around when you were at university, but the years had been kind to him and he’d broadened significantly, with a dark beard and a smattering of chest hair covering his torso. At least he’s opted for more stylish shorts though. You give him a polite wave which he returns, he’d always been a softie, it seems that hadn’t changed. Good for Rhaena.

Jace flashes a smile your way, “Is this the infamous y/n?” he asks, rounding the pool to come and stand beside you to introduce himself, “I’m Jace”

It’s at this moment that Aemond comes out of his villa, towel in hand. You try your damndest to not look in his direction as he throws his towel at the sunbed next to Aegon, but when you break and do, he’s not even looking at you. He’s staring daggers into the back of Jace’s head, gaze dark as if he wants to take the poor guy’s head clean off. And he makes a fucking meal out of his, only briefly flitting to you before looking away.

Oh.

You bite back a smile.

“Nice to meet you” you say, shaking his hand politely, looking back to Baela and pulling an awkward look. She’s doing the same thing with her eyebrow raised.

“I’m the other cousin, my brother’s Luke and Joff are in the villa over” he says excitedly. Gods he’s like…a puppy. Even though he very well could be the same age or older, he’s vibrating with excitement. It’s kind of a turn off.

“You’re Rhaenyra’s kids right?” you ask, politely pretending to be interested.

He nods, “Yeah, you probably won’t see her. Her and Daemon are always in the cities being tourists”

This attempt at conversation is…taking it all from you. He’s cute, but not fuckable cute. And with Aemond in your peripheral pretending to be on his phone, but secretly watching every word that’s exchanged, it’s kind of exciting to see him…jealous perhaps.

You just nod and agree to whatever he says. Aemond visibly bristles, tongue poking the inside of his cheek when Jace signs off with, “You’re welcome to come to our villa whenever you want”

A bit…forward if anything. But you thank him politely and Jace eventually retreats down the cobbled path to his villa, which he’s helpfully stated is only about a 2 minute walk.

Cregan asks, “Where’s Rhaena?”

“At the beach”

Cregan gives a polite smile, going off to the white sandy beach in search of his girlfriend. Baela swims up to you, leaning on the side of the pool as you sip the last of your cocktail.

“Is he always so adept with women?” you ask with a smirk, Baela snorts, “several times I caught him looking below the chin”

“Can you blame him” Baela returns, “Nah, he’s harmless really, you coming in?” she asks, swimming on her back to the middle of the pool.

Sighing, you pull the sunglasses from your head and put them aside, padding over to the ladder.

Even though you don’t look, you feel the intensity of his gaze. Raking all over your skin, as if the more he stares, the more skin he’ll be able to see. Perhaps he’d wondered what you looked like beneath the black fabric of the bikini, what it might feel like to undo the ties of them and let the fabric peel off your moistened skin, exposing your most intimate areas to the humid air.

Your skin blossoms at the thought, even with how hot it is. The sun makes it no easier to cool off from these musings, only serving to intensify the electric bolt that radiates between the both of you, becoming stronger the closer you are to him.

He watches as your legs dip into the pool the further you descend down the ladder, the water moistening your sun-cream lotioned skin, slipping away in waves as the droplets lap against your toned thighs. Aemond thinks he might die on the spot when the water surges against your breasts, instantly making the supple skin there glisten in the sun.

And if that wasn’t enough, you reach up in a surprisingly tempting gesture and pull the clip from your hair. He’d rarely seen your hair down, but here with the ends dipping into the pool, each strand glimmering a soft halo around your head with the afternoon glow, the reins he has pulled taut inside his head are slipping recklessly.

Pretending to scroll through his phone, his brother Aegon smirks beneath his hat, shamelessly watching Aemond’s resolve slowly crumble. But you do a good job of barely looking at him for the remainder of the afternoon. The same cannot be said for him.

He realises he’s fucked when Baela, the ever playful person she is, dunks you below the water and every bit of you is wet, water cascading off every curve as you laugh and wipe your eyes. Even when you pull yourself onto the ladder out of the pool, giving him the perfect view of your ass, pulling the bikini a little bit up your hips as you do so, he manages to somehow hold it together.

Being late in the afternoon, the sun’s beginning to make its way down, so with a slight shiver you pull a towel around you, raking some fingers through your wet hair to get the chlorine-induced tangles out. You lean over the bar, waiting for the bartender to turn around,

“Baela, what do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having!”

The bartender flashes a smile once he recognises your presence, eyes flitting to your chest pressed between your arms as you lean over the bar before returning to your eyes.

“What can I get for you” he asks lowly and your head cocks at the accent. It’s kinda hot.

“Do you have gin and tonic?” you ask politely,

He braces the bar, the vein in his arm visible from this angle, “We do, but I think for a pretty woman like you I can make something better”

You raise an eyebrow, “like what?”

He twirls a glass of something behind his back, clearly showing off his bartending skills, “How about something with ouzo?”

You shrug with a smile, “Never tried it but sure”

As he mixes the drink, you peer over your shoulder at Baela and then to Aemond. He’s already watching you. It’s that look again. The one he’d given you last time in his home gym. The one where it feels like he’s looking right inside you, the darkened, determined look. You keep his gaze, thinking he will just look away like he had before. But he doesn’t.

A muscle in his jaw twitches with annoyance. Or perhaps not even annoyance. Something else.

Once you’ve polished off several cocktails, Aemond leaves with Aegon to go inside, presumably to change clothes, but not before giving you a look over his shoulder. Anyone else would have thought he was livid. To be honest, for a second you thought he very well could be. For what reason he had to be livid? You had no idea.

You spent the night slathered in mosquito repellent and sat outside with Baela, Rhaena and Cregan. You’d wanted to be comfortable so decided on a dress with spaghetti straps. It was a comfortably warm evening, with fire-lit torches illuminating the space around the villa. Rhaena had arrived back in the late afternoon, flushed in the face and hair tousled and you and both Baela had noted that Cregan’s shorts were untied. The sun was clearly getting to Rhaena. Her and Cregan was a fairly new thing and she’d been both shocked and giddy when he’d offered to be her plus one for the trip.

Sometime in the night, a figure that was clearly Aemond and another white haired girl walked towards their villa.

“Helaena!” Rhaena shouted over with a smile. Both figures stopped and your stomach fluttered with nervousness when Aemond’s eyes landed on you briefly. Then a slight pang of disappointment when he said goodbye to the woman next to him to slip inside the villa.

The ethereal looking woman comes over excitedly, sitting beside you, “Oh my gosh, when did you guys get here!”

“Cregan and I came yesterday” Rhaena smiles,

“Yeah but they were probably in bed all day sleeping, right Rhae?” Baela murmurs into her drink earning a smack from her sister.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Cregan” Helaena smiles politely before turning to you, “And you are?”

“I’m y/n, Helaena was it?” you ask, shaking her soft hand. She was really pretty, like a fairy just floating around. She had dangly earrings with ladybirds on them and was wearing a flowy cream dress.

“Oh so you’re y/n, I’ve heard so much about you!”

It catches you off guard slightly, but you nod and then turn to Baela furrowing your eyebrows confusedly. She’s heard so much about you? The hell does that mean?

The rest of the night is really pleasant and Helaena stays with you all chatting for the remainder of it. She’s really nice it turns out. It’s a wonder she’s even related to her brothers. She tells you all about the family drama, which piques your excitement and that her youngest brother Daeron, didn’t end up coming since he’s studying abroad, so she came instead. And you’re grateful she did, it’s nice to have other new female company.

In your shared bedroom, you and Baela chat well into the night, about a plethora of things. But one subject you refuse to broach is him. Nope. Can’t talk about him. He’s only a few metres away, if you let your mind wander too much it’ll all be over.

It’s a restless night’s sleep and your subconscious certainly doesn’t help. All your mind can allow you to remember is the way he touched you, how he had pressed against you, how his lips were slotting against yours almost desperately, his low moan.

The next morning, after having a continental breakfast, Baela puts on a long maxi dress.

“Everyone’s going to the city for a shop around, wanna come?” Baela meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Shopping? Nah, that’s fine I’ll just stay here, want to relax a little bit and get some more sun”

“You sure? Feel bad leaving you here on your own”

“Is everyone going with you?” you ask, pulling some shorts over your black bikini.

“Nearly, except for Dad and Rhaenyra. Sure you don’t mind?” she asks,

“Course not, have a good time”

Pulling a shawl over your shoulders you see Baela and everyone off before trudging down the cobbled path to the white, sandy beach, plopping yourself on the sand and opening a book you’d borrowed from the shelf near the bar. You let the sun beat down on your shoulders, the soft wind blowing through your hair and listening to the waves in the quiet hair while reading a book just seems so calming.

You’d already gotten quite a bit of sun yesterday and your legs had glazed with a sun-kissed colour, as well as your arms. So much so, the bikini had left a few lines where the straps were, if only very faintly. It was always easy for you to catch the sun. Pulling off your shorts, you lean back on your elbows to read some more and get some colour on your thighs.

Early afternoon came by quickly and before you knew it, you could feel the tingle of pinkness on your shoulders, where your bikini was tied at your neck.

Fuck.

You’d forgotten to put suncream there, Baela had been the one to reach the difficult spot yesterday.

Packing up your things, you carry your shorts and shawl in one hand and trudge back to the villa. It’s quiet, everyone must still be in the city. Your hair had somewhat curled up from the sea breeze so you ran your fingers through it once inside, snagging on some tangles.

Now, where was the aftersun. Baela had it…

“Not a fan of shopping?”

Your head swung around at the sudden, familiar voice. And there he was, looking annoyingly hot, leaning against the doorway to your villa, a toned arm supporting his weight. Again, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his shorts hung on his hips, making your eyes dip to those lines that lead…

No.

He has a lazy smile on his face, happy to have got you flustered and allowing his eyes once again to look over you in just the black bikini once more.

“No, not really” is all you can muster, going back to looking for the aftersun with urgency. But really you didn’t want him to see the pink flush on your cheeks. Seeing him like this, no less being alone with him, especially looking as good as he does, was about to drive you to madness.

He hums and walks forward into the village, hands in his pockets, “Looking for something?”

“U-uh, just the aftersun” you struggle, clearing your throat and cursing yourself for the shake in your voice at being in his presence once again.

“Ah” he responds.

You gasp when one of his arms braces the counter in front of you and he bends down to the mini fridge, opening it to produce a bottle of said aftersun. You could feel his presence at your back, broad and warm, all encompassing. Swallowing thickly, you take a breath. It must be the smell of something on his skin that gives off a subtle scent, but whatever it is makes your stomach flutter and a warm bloom settles in your abdomen.

You go to reach for the bottle, but he pulls back, and you meet his gaze. His look is soft, but dark and steadfast.

“Where”

Jesus fucking christ. My heart is beating so fucking fast right now.

“Um…back of my neck” it comes out a whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way your breasts move in the bikini as you nervously breathe slightly heavier.

“Difficult to reach by yourself” he muses, his voice rumbling in his chest as he is standing right behind you. You bite your lip. Is this really fucking happening right now.

You shiver when his large hand moves your hair from your back to one side of your neck, the feeling of his fingers brushing against the skin there almost makes an involuntary sound come out your mouth. But you repress it, closing your eyes to grab hold of your reins.

One hand fiddles with the single knot of the tie at your neck, slowly, his breath steady. And he finds the one he needs and pulls slowly, unwinding the bow until the bikini top is loosened. Your hands move to hold the front of your bikini up to cover your breasts as the fabric falls. Your mind is at war with itself, stuck between thinking this is wrong and it should stop, and then the more dominant side thinks, he’s here, doing this, you might as well see where it goes.

Even though it was only one thin strap, when he sees your almost bare back right before him, you hear him exhale lowly and you only know because you feel his hot breath against it. He deposits some cold aftersun in his hand and slowly reaches out to the slightly pink skin of your nape, to spread it across. Your body prickles with anticipation at his touch, coupled with the chill of the liquid. Nobody says a thing as he massages it into your skin, not quite feathery but he applies pressure, making sure to roll his fingers into the muscles there, so that you really feel him.

He continues for a moment and then his other hand joins. You’re unsure if there is actually any aftersun left at this point and he is just finding an excuse to touch you, but you don’t stop him. Desire pools in your stomach as his hands drag south, down the expanse of your back, to the sides, nearly touching your own hands where they are covering your breasts. Your eyelashes flutter as you sigh at the feeling, his large palms working the moistened skin. It is this point your eyes open when you feel his very obvious erection, pressing firmly against your buttocks.

You feel his breath close to your nape, and it all seems to fall apart as he presses his lips there. Once, twice, three times…and then again as he drags his lips up your neck to behind your ear.

“It’s not fair…you getting to walk around like this…” he whispers next to your ear, his hands trace the contours of your breasts, “...every fucking guy ogling you…”

One of his hands smoothes down your side, resting at your hip, fiddling with the single knot of your bikini there.

“...wanting to fuck you…”

He just lets his hang rest there, neither touching you where you need him the most. Your blood is rushing around your body, humming with desire. Frustrated at not being allowed the pleasure it so desperately needs.

“...but you won’t let them, will you. You’ll just let them look, like the needy attention slut you are”

His words are unexpected but they have their effect, and you can practically feel your arousal at what he says. One of his hands sneaks beneath yours, to grab one of your breasts tightly, almost possessively, pinching the nipple between his dexterous fingers. It makes you breathe out a quiet moan, your body slowly giving in.

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted to fuck that stupid little attitude out of you?” he says, his breath hot on the shell of your ear.

He moulds your breast in his palm effortlessly, waiting for an answer.

But you moan louder in both surprise and arousal when he squeezes it harshly, “I asked you a question”

“Fuck-no, I didn’t…” you somehow manage, cracking your eyes open slightly. You see him only a little in your peripheral, expecting him to be smirking. But he’s not, he is dead serious. Which somehow serves to awaken your desire even more.

His other hand slips beneath the fabric of your bikini and he himself lets out a guttural moan feeling how turned on you already are, the pads of his fingers collect the wetness already there, moving up to circle your slit with your own slick. Your mouth falls open slightly, body trembling with anticipation. God why does it feel so good.

“I would have had you in every way imaginable…if you’d stayed…” he murmurs against you, speeding up the motions of his finger.

“Fuck…Aemond-please”

He spins you around quickly, the top of your bikini falling in a useless mess to the floor and he quite literally growls at the sight of your tits, as if he’d imagined what they might look like for a long time. His jaw tightens at the sight and he pushes the bottoms down to the floor, sinking to his knees almost instantly so he is staring hungrily at your cunt, wet and dripping for him.

His hands remain at your hips, his fingers bruising red marks into them.

“Please what”

Shit.

Your face flushes red at the sight of him so close to your intimate area, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little embarrassed, but his pupils are so dilated with pure lust, it almost makes you forget.

Your body jolts when he slaps your pussy hard, sending a jolt of pleasure through your clit and clawing up your spine, a desperate sound escapes you. He need not say anything else.

“Please, I need you” you whine pathetically and he huffs, as if annoyed, using his large hands to part your legs even further, the counter biting into your lower back.

“That’s what I fucking thought”

He dives into your pussy with his tongue, swirling the soft, wet muscle around your clit a few times deliciously before venturing down, fucking you with his tongue and lapping up your slick like a man starved. He grips your hips as if you might move away from him, keeping you right where he wants you and all the while your desperate whines and the lewd sound of his mouth are the only thing that fills the otherwise quiet villa.

You pray nobody returns, because what you’re doing right now deserves to be loud.

God, how long had it been since a man last treated you this way. Since a man had known what to do with you so confidently, to have you a moaning mewling mess.

It’s here when you look down, that you realise he’s fucking moaning while eating your pussy, almost sounding as if he’s enjoying this far more than you are. Enjoying your taste, your scent, everything. He briefly looks up at you, drinking in the indulgent look on your pinkened face, before delving deeper, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit with every move he makes with his tongue within you.

You nearly lose it entirely when he presses two fingers inside, immediately crooking them to rub against that delicious spongy spot that makes your mouth hang open.

“Ohfuck” you whimper as he doubles his efforts on your clit while pistoning his long, slender fingers within you. It feels like so much and your hand comes down to his wrist, feeling your climax curl in your gut and threatening to explode faster than ever. But he groans and uses his other hand to push it away, blissfully ignoring you and going faster in an effort to make you come apart around him.

“You gonna come on my fucking tongue” he growls into your pussy, his ministrations never stopping for a second and in fact his lips lock around your clit to suck. A desperate moan spills from your mouth, not even passing your brain.

“Yes, yes…” you pant, “Fuck-Aemond”

Your hands brace the counter as your climax is ripped from you by the force of his fingers and mouth. Pure, white hot pleasure wakes every nerve in your body, prickling up your back and into your limbs, making them go numb. You barely register the sound you even make as Aemond continues to fuck you with his fingers through it, lapping up every bit of your essence that comes out, moaning and chanting ‘good fucking girl’.

It genuinely takes you a moment to recover from it, your chest shining with sweat from the effort. But before you know which way is up, he rises, hands under your thighs to pull you up onto the counter, which is good since your legs were starting to give in from the force of your orgasm.

“Aem-”

His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to speak, allowing your legs to part so he might press flush against your weeping cunt. You feel his erection, hard and thick against you and it only makes you want it more. He takes you in with his lips as if it’s the air he breathes, a mess of lips, tongues and the taste of you, sweet like nectar.

“Fuck, want you so bad” he breathes between kisses, outright moaning when your fingers card into the hair at his nape and grip.

“Fuck me, I want to feel all of you”

His eyes peer open down at you, his chest heaving with desire.

“Please, don’t make me beg”

At this, he does smirk, pushing his shorts further down his hips and freeing his cock, “I’d like to see you beg, baby”

Christ.

He’s much bigger than you’ve had before, definitely bigger than your pathetic ex was anyway (not like it’s hard). You take him into your palm, hot, weighty and heavy and he tilts his head back at the feeling as you give his length a few languid strokes, although there really is no need since he’s been constantly hard the second he saw you come out the taxi the day before. The way his face contorts when you rub your thumb over his weeping tip makes you think he is painfully hard, aching for any kind of release.

God, if this is what he looks like now, you want to see his face when he is fucking you stupid.

You guide him to your waiting core, his head barely kissing your entrance.

“I’ve got an IUD, please-”

He doesn’t need to hear any more, his hands reach out to grip your waist, pulling you forward as he pushes, letting out a guttural moan as he sinks into you to the hilt. He moves your leg to hook around him, trying to get as close to you as possible.

“Fuck…” he moans with a shudder as his cock is squeezed by your tightness, “god you’re so fucking tight”

Everything about this has your blood on fire. His cock fills you so perfectly, his moans, his words, the way his hands are holding you apart for him to use you. One of his hands moves to your nape, grabbing the hair there in his grip tightly, and the tension against your hair makes you moan out as well.

But he doesn’t move.

“Aemond…”

“Beg for it” he orders, his stomach taut with the effort it takes to hold himself back. Frustrated and turned on beyond belief, you try and move your hips for friction. His hand flies from your hip to your jaw, fingers bruising into your cheeks, making you look directly at him and your eyes meet his, wide-eyed and heavily dilated, “Beg for it like the fucking slut I know you are”

Once again his words ignite that fire that creeps down your spine, and you feel every bit of him. Every vein on his cock, how it twitches within your heat and how it kisses your cervix with how big it is.

“Please fuck me, just move Aemond-please”

You don’t have the resolve to deny it now. You want it so bad, more than you’ve wanted anything ever.

He wets his lips, “That’s it” he coos.

He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside, watching the way your tits bounce when his hips snap against yours with need. He doesn't start gently, too pent up for that, nor does he build up to it. He fucks you on the counter like he’s not been able to get a moment’s rest from thinking about this for weeks. The hand in your hair tightens impossibly, holding you there while his cock drags against your walls, still sensitive from your previous climax.

Aemond watches his cock disappear over and over again into you, coated in your slick, revelling in the filthy sounds it makes when he slaps against you. And when he delivers a particularly hard thrust, brushing against that spot inside, your hand flies to your mouth to contain your moans, concerned that if anyone did come back, they’d be able to hear you.

“None of that” he growls, ripping your hand away from your mouth, his eyes glimmering with mischief, “I wanna hear how good I make you feel”

It’s impossible to hold back. He sees it all as a challenge now as he takes your hips with both hands, fucking you even faster if it were possible. He adjusts his hips and his stomach muscles, toned and hard ripple with the effort, his strong arms caging you completely in and he looks down at you as if he wants to see exactly the moment it happens.

You grip his forearm tightly, “Aemond-I’m-”

“Fuck I can feel you squeezing me…you gonna cum for me, hm? All over my cock” he breathes.

You nod desperately, “Yesyes…please…cum inside me-”

His brow arches smugly at this, a smirk etching on his features, “You want me to fill you up, huh”

“Gods - yes”

“Hm” he hums, allowing his large hand to encircle your throat, only barely squeezing, “gonna make you work for it”

It’s when he squeezes your neck that you shut your eyes, face contorted in pleasure and that coil inside snapping forcefully. You can practically feel the rhythm of your heartbeat through your clit as you let go completely, gripping onto him for dear life. You don’t know what he means by ‘work for it’ but you don’t really care right now. The pleasure comes in waves over your body and Aemond pistons in and out through it, a lazy smile on his face watching you as you orgasm.

You realise in all this that he’s not stopped. His hips continue to press into you faster and faster, now bullying the overly sensitive spots inside that have been decimated by your climax.

“Aemond?...” you manage with a breathy moan, quickly feeling overstimulated.

“Told you I’d make you work for it” he muses, moving his thumb to circle your clit.

You gasp out, back arching against him as he tries to work yet another orgasm out of you, “I-I can’t-”

“Give it to me” he orders, all while keeping that breakneck pace as he fucks you, sparking white-hot and borderline unbearable pleasure in two ways against your body. He leans forward to lick a fat stripe up the column of your neck all the way up to your ear and the change in position has his cock once again directly drag against that spot inside, one that makes your eyes shut, face contort and stars begin to appear behind them.

“Give it to me like the good girl you are” he whispers as he bites down on the skin of your neck, marking you for himself.

With a strangled cry, you give in, thighs trembling against his muscled sides and you feel another gush of arousal coat his cock by the loud sounds it's still making. He fucks you through this one, his strokes becoming sloppy, and you go limp in his arms feeling that he may also not last much longer.

“Good girl-fuck” he cums with a shattered moan after that, his head buried into your neck as you feel his hot spend paint your walls, giving a few desperate thrusts until his cock twitches from overstimulation, still seated within you. Still coming down from the two close orgasms he’d given you, you take a moment to come back to earth, eyes cracking open after a while.

Even with him still inside you, you can feel the combination of his spend and your own arousal leaking out of you, coating your thighs. He pulls his head tiredly from your neck to look at you. And he looks amazing, so blissed out, a bit pink in the face, but there’s a new softness there now where there wasn’t before.

“Gods, you’re so perfect…”

You kiss him desperately, not wanting this feeling to end as you both come down from your respective highs. And there’s a part inside of you that is self-conscious that perhaps all he wanted was sex, and that he doesn’t like you at all, so you savour this moment, concerned that after all this…there might be nothing.

“Go on a date with me…” he says suddenly and you look up at him. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks nervous, “please…”

Combined with the thoughts you were just having, his words are so overwhelming that for the time it takes you to think of an answer, you just laugh breathlessly, which makes him arch a confused brow.

“Date?” you ask, wondering if you’d heard correctly, “not to the gym I hope”

“No, not at the gym” he laughs, “I…I’d like to get to know you better” he confesses.

You huff a laugh, “You’re literally inside me right now”

He lets out his own laugh, and it’s nice to see him genuinely smile, “not like that”

His chest is still moving with his breathing, still slightly laboured, and your eyes glance over him for a moment, taking him all in. His hair has somewhat come free of his bun, so you tuck a strange behind his ear in a gesture that makes Aemond’s heart squeeze.

“I’d love to”

The smile on his face is unmistakable, and not a hint of smugness to it.

Once he’s pulled his softening cock from your core and you’ve both cleaned yourself up, it overcomes both of you that you can’t keep your hands off each other, can’t spend a moment without lips locked. Everyone’s definitely going to notice.

“I don’t want to hide it from anyone, if you don’t” you say in a whisper.

He squeezes your ass lovingly, giving it a playful swat, “I certainly don’t”

A few hours later, once the sun has started to hit the tops of all the buildings and the sky turns a hazy red with the sunset, you sit beside him, legs dipped in the pool and a shawl pulled around your shoulders from the slight chill. You let your head rest on his shoulder, utterly content as he kisses the crown of your head, in a shockingly loving gesture despite how he was railing you earlier. One strong arm wrapped around your waist.

“Fuck” you whisper.

“What” he asks amused.

“I owe Baela 5 gold dragons”

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@jacevelaryonswife @lovelykhaleesiii@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid @namelesslosers @chainsawsangel @warmfieldofgrass @mynameisbaby9 @afro-hispwriter @tempo-rary-fix @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans @svtansdaddyx @tssf-imagines @darkenchantress @vrtualfairy @fan-goddess @skikikikiikhhjuuh @helaenaluvr @sarahkimtae @blackxisxmyxcolour @castellomargot @girlwith-thepearlearring @julczimozart @amazingdisneyfansblog @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss

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itsgrimeytime · 10 months ago

Text

The Lover || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

1...

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

The Sequel to The Nurse (my series masterlist)

Summary: A long time ago, you were Rick Grimes's nurse. Now, you loved him, and he loved you. Or at least that's where you left it off. With Judith safe in your arms and Rick distinctly not by your side, you could only hope his feelings stayed the same because they sure as hell did for you.

TWs: blood, inhumane rage (you're kinda crazy in this one ngl), threatening someone's life, vague mention of murder, blades, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: heyyy, it's finally here!!! it's going to be less of Rick in this one for obvious reasons. At least for now. Looked it up and it took 10 days to get to Alexandria for the main group, so I'm going to be writing those for these first few chapters. Thanks for reading!!!]]

It had been two days since the prison -you could only count by the sun setting and the nightfall. You were running on autopilot, step after step; periodically feeding Judith because she wasn't crying anymore. You hadn't had any run-ins, not yet.

Your hand clenched against your side -tight on your axe. It was still the same fire-axe that you'd gotten at the hospital -blood ingrained in the blade and handle from your entire journey. You weren't sure it would wash off at this point.

It felt like a part of you now. Always there, familiar.

Like Rick had, or Carl, or Judith, or anyone at the prison-

You swallowed, they're alive. You know it.

You didn't, but it helped to think so.

If they get hurt, they've got Hershel, they'll survive, you assured, trying not to let the guilt bubble into your stomach.

Judith fussed a little then -the gentle pull of her eyebrows and squirming in her makeshift carrier. Your hand immediately came to soothe, smoothing against her head -gently whispering to shush her.

You were hidden away in a shack -somewhere along the road. It provided shelter, and that was enough for now. Pulling out a can of... something, you couldn't remember, you stabbed your knife through and opened it up. You'd been rationing, only eating when necessary; in the case that Judith's formula ran out, you wanted to keep her fed.

The first thing you'd noticed was the snap of a branch, just a single branch. It singled out in the night. Walkers would break more than one, you remembered.

Judith was asleep on your chest, you didn't dare move her; she was safer with you than without you. You knew that well.

Carefully, you put the can by your side, gently as if to not make any other sounds that would bring attention to you. You or Judith. All that you were running on was adrenaline, and just the urge to protect, protect, protect-

If whoever this was tried to lay a hand on Judith-

You carefully stood up, pulling your axe off the ground with you. Swinging it around in your hands, it was so familiar now. Attached to you. You weren't sure how to feel about it, but you couldn't really feel anything now -your mind was focused. Shelter, food, water, and Judith.

There was nothing else in this world for you. Not now.

With a breath, you slammed the door open -axe at the ready. You didn't catch on anyone at first, but then you heard it again and spun on your feet. You eyes settled on someone.

Their hands were shaking, but they held a gun to you -metal tip pointing and glinting in the sun. Your jaw tightened, as you gnawed on your lip, hands solid on your axe.

"Drop it," they spoke, but their voice was shaky. You could physically see their hands shake, something in your stomach steeled, "-or I'll-"

"I wouldn't," you remarked, bitterly -not an ounce of anything but anger melding along your words.

They pressed their lips together, seeming to gain a little more confidence, "I have a gun, I will shoot-"

You spoke again, tone sharp -something flashing behind your eyes.

"I wouldn't."

Protect, protect, protect-

They stared at you, something smoothing through their eyes. Something flashing, their lip trembling ever so slightly. You didn't flinch.

"What, all you have is an axe-"

"Did you know-" you hummed carefully stepping toward them, voice measured and careful, "-there are 1.5 gallons of blood in the human body?"

They snapped their lips shut, as you roamed closer, pressing the blade into their space. Tantalizingly close to their neck.

"And it only takes one little slice to lose it all?"

They froze for a moment, just one second. And you reacted instinctively, elbowing the gun out of their hands. It flew off into the bushes (snaps of branches telling you it did), but you kept your eyes solely on them. Lips pressed into a thin line.

"Look," they retracted, something pleading in their eyes, "-all I want is some food. I just- I haven't eaten in days."

You stared at them, axe still close to their neck -the vein that would do the job. You knew that, you'd read it in textbooks, seen bloody hands try to apply pressure, but it was too quick. Too fast.

"You threatened to kill my baby," you tsked, jutting the axe forward a little more. It was just a hair away and something in you was angry, so angry. Just an inch, just an inch, just an inch-

Protect, protect, protect-

"I wasn't going to! Not really, I just-" their eyes sunk to the blade, teary now, "-Please, I... I don't want to die like this-"

Protect, protect, protect-

You took a heavy breath in, eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching your axe so tight your knuckles were white. Something in you recentering, coming back to earth.

You pulled back the axe, but didn't let up your stare, growling, "If you ever try and hurt her again, I'll snap your spine myself."

They swallowed, blearily.

Motioning to the shack, you spoke -sharply, "There's some leftovers in there, take them."

They scrambled then, for the can, but you took pause a second. Carefully putting your axe back in place, you asked, "Have you seen a man and a kid? The kid, he... he wears a sheriff's hat."

The person seemed confused, maybe from so blatant of a switch, with the can gathered up in their hands. Still, they pressed their lips together, and answered, "I haven't."

Your heart stung, and you swallowed, nodding. With a breath, you set off to start walking again, it was morning -you needed to be productive in the daylight. But they stopped you.

"For your good, and the kid's," they warned, "-don't go to Terminus."

"Terminus?" You questioned.

"You're heading that way," they continued, eyes portraying a seriousness, "-they say it's a safe place. It's not. Don't go there."

"And," you breathed out, "-where should I go?"

They seemed to pause, scanning you over, "I don't know for sure, but I hear there's a place called Alexandria. It's good there, safe. Safe enough for a baby."

Your eyes darted down to Judith, still sleeping soundly against your chest. Your hand came up to rub against her hair -smoothing it down in place. She was your whole world now. If it was safe for her, it's where you'll go.

"Why aren't you there?" You questioned, "-If it's safe?"

"Looking for someone," they answered -briskly.

"Me too," you took a shaky breath in, your hands were shaking by your sides, "-I'm sorry about-"

They shook their head, cutting off your words, "It's your kid, I'd do the same."

You nodded once solidly, "Thanks."

They didn't say a word, and you decidedly moved forward. Keep moving.

They're alive, they're alive, they're alive-

You ended up near a few stores -walkers roaming around the strip.

You'd been keeping your eye out for signs, you saw them a lot. Different places offering safe havens, you hadn't seen one for Alexandria yet though. Had seen one for Terminus, and you had the brief thought that maybe Rick had been there. Were they okay? Did they come back from it?

You swallowed, not wasting time thinking about it. You couldn't, not anymore. You had Judith, you'd focus on Judith.

Inhaling, you roamed along the strip, pulling your axe into your hand again at the few walkers who roamed nearby. There wasn't enough that it was concerning, but you still didn't like them being anywhere near you. Especially with Judith held to your chest.

Quickly disposing of the one right by the door (lodging the blade through its head), you slowly made your way inside. It had a glass exterior, but all of it was smashed; it cracked under your feet, as you kept a hand on the back of Judith's head -just in case. The store, what looked to be some sort of convenience store, was raided pretty heavily only a few cans of what looked like alphabet soup on the food shelf.

Without hesitation, you took off your pack and shoved the cans into it. You didn't have much space, not with all of Jude's stuff, but you worked with what you had. Only finding two water bottles, you stashed one away for bottles and the other brought to your lips, before shoving it away.

You went through a few shops like that, some novelty shops with little trinkets and toys (you took just one for Judith), some snack shops where the aisles were completely cleaned out. And then, you stumbled upon a clothing store.

You stared at it, a little dumbfounded.

It was relatively untouched, sans the broken glass along the front. You figured that clothes were that important in the grand scheme of the apocalypse, so maybe it had just never been raided. Wanting to, one, get out of these clothes and, two, get some extra fabric for bandages, you neatly stepped inside.

You ended up finding an assortment of clothes, and for once you actually got to pick. Grabbing a bag off the floor that could hang across your chest, you filled it with fabric (including little onesies you'd found). And right then and there, you stripped down, slipping both new clothes on you and Judith.

It was refreshing, not really like a shower would be at this point but... close enough.

Slowly exiting, you took out two more walkers and continued out of the street -generally in the same direction the stranger had provided you with. You were just going by roads and by paths. Assumedly, if this place was safe, it would be some kind of substantial building.

Like the prison was, your mind chimed. You bit back the bile in your throat.

It went on that until night fell, there was no shelter nearby, so you continued on foot. Not that you'd sleep anyway, especially with Judith. You couldn't chance a wink.

It was the early morning then, and you felt the heaviness in your eyes. But you'd experienced much, much worse. You were kind of running a little on the adrenaline of everything. That being said, you had slept a little.

You'd found a house, boarded up. For safety reasons, you walked all the way up the stairs to the furthest bedroom and locked the door. You woke up to Judith crying and hadn't slept since.

What you hadn't expected, was to see two men walking along the road -crisply dressed and oddly clean. You hid behind a tree, peeking out at the two of them -they were talking about something.

"I think we'll give it another few days."

"How many?"

"Maybe two," one of the men spoke, "-we have to get back to Alexandria at some point-"

You stilled, hands brushing up against the bark of the tree. It scraped your fingers a moment.

You tailed them for a bit, watching what weapons they had (if they did) and figuring out what they were doing in general. They seemed to be limited to this area, like they were expecting something or maybe watching something, you didn't really know. They didn't say much.

You waited for them to completely let their guard down. Realistically, you could've taken them, probably. But you didn't chance anything, not with Judith; if you died, she would have nobody. Or at least, right now she would.

It was later in the day, lunch maybe based on the fact that they were eating. One's back to you, you realize this to be the perfect moment. You could take a hostage and demand answers.

Gently kissing Judith's head, you took a deep breath.

And you acted instinctively, pulling out your axe, and jumping behind him. With one fluid move, you pulled your axe in front of his neck. The vein, the vein, the vein-

The other man jumped, "Shit-"

"Don't move," you warned, and the man stalled in place -hands gently raised in the air.

He looked so unaffected from the world, how was he even-

"What do you want from us?" He nearly pleaded, and something in your resolve faltered but you stayed firm, "-Food? Weapons? We- Shit, take it all-"

You pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to control your emotion. Judith, Judith, Judith-

"Where is Alexandria?"

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #the nurse #nurse!reader #doctor!reader #the lover

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