#he's a coward though for fucking with with her this way instead of going after elena

[supemaeve]

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[sp0o0kylights]

Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 

Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 

It's flash. Showmanship. 

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

 Eddie panics. 

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 

Not when it comes to running, anyway. 

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 

The urge is still there. 

To run, and save face the cowards way. 

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 

Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 

 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks. 

“Mmm.” 

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 

“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 

“I know. Wait, how do you--” 

And well. It’s now or never. 

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 

Steve looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 

The zine he keeps in his hands. 

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 

Which is news to Eddie. 

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 

“You did! Robin told you!” 

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 

“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 

“That’d be cool.” 

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 

[torakowalski]

More Swimmer Steve! He's not an Olympian yet, but he's (front) crawling his way there. Late 1986 or early 1987:

(continued from part one | part two)

"And then goddamn Phillips came out of fucking nowhere and took the win."

Steve comes stomping out of the bathroom, followed by a cloud of steam that Eddie can feel on his skin, still ranting as though there wasn't a break while he showered.

"Yeah, dude, I was there - " Eddie looks up and freezes, feeling a gulp get lodged in his gullet. "Jeez," he wheezes. "Pants?"

Steve, naked as the day he was born, looks down, shrugs at his own free swinging dick, and pulls the towel down from his shoulders to wrap around his waist.

"Better?" he asks, like Eddie's the one being unreasonable.

"Better." Eddie sits up on the bed, tactically pulling his knees up in front of himself so anything happening in his own pants area is his own business.

They've been sharing hotel rooms around the country on and off for months now. Seems like Steve has gotten too comfortable around him. Eddie needs to find a way to nip that in the bud before Steve's jockish love of nudity goes any further.

"That win was mine," Steve grumps, stomping around the room, pulling underwear out of his suitcase, thank god. "Now I'm gonna be in the goddamn fifth lane tomorrow."

"And you'll win from there," Eddie tells him, confidentally. He means it; Steve's been winning everything important since he started competing. He knows Steve has superstitions about certain lanes, but Eddie's never noticed any real difference.

Because Eddie knows about swimming now. There's a lot of travel involved in trying to make swimming your career, apparently, and Steve's been going to competitions all around the country all year.

Robin's at college, the kids are in school, but Eddie's barely healed and fully unemployed, so more often than not, he's the one who goes with Steve.

(He can't be left alone! Robin had wailed, pained. Eddie had laughed at her, but privately, Eddie agrees. Steve takes this shit really seriously; he needs someone to shake him out of his funks when he doesn't meet his own expectations.)

"Ugh," says Steve and drops his fucking towel again to angrily yank on his briefs. He throws himself down onto his stomach onto the other bed. His perfect, round ass curves up between the strong hollow of his lower back and his hairy, muscular thighs.

Eddie looks away.

"Fifth lane isn't that different from fourth," he tells the ceiling. "You'll still be in the middle and you'll destroy 'em all tomorrow."

Steve's quiet for a moment, then he rolls onto his side. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, firm as he can. He lets his eyes flick down to Steve's shaved chest, just a little glance at all that skin and muscle, before pulling his attention back to Steve's face. "Yeah, you've got this, man."

Steve bites his chapped bottom lip. His hair is wet from the shower and sticking to the sides of his face. Eddie wants to push it back for him. Then Eddie wants to just linger, cup Steve's stupid, handsome face, tell him he's great and talented and a fucking joy to watch. That he lights up when he's in his element.

He's a coward, so he doesn't do any of those things.

Instead, he makes a stupid face at Steve, wrinkling up his nose then making himself go cross-eyed.

Steve laughs, his lip sliding free of his teeth and his expression relaxing. He pillows his head on his folded elbow, still facing Eddie. He's always tired after a long time in the pool, not as recovered as he pretends and pushing himself to be faster and stronger than everyone else.

"Thanks," he says. Then, dark eyelashes fluttering, eyelids losing a fight with gravity. "I'm glad it's always you who's here."

"Anyone wants to take my place, they're gonna have to fight me," Eddie tells him and means it way more than he hopes Steve knows.

(continued here)

[drytacomeat]

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐦 2

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧! 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 plus size!𝐟em!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐦𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧), 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡

Enjoy

(reblogs much appreciated)

part one here

The guilt was eating you up.

Not in a “I watched my two closest friends fuck on live and invaded their privacy” way but in a “I want to watch all of their other content even though I know it’s wrong” kind of way.

After about a week and a half, Eddie and Steve figured you weren’t sick or even busy. They knew something was up with you, but they could not figure out what.

Both of the boy’s cared for you deeply, and your presence was greatly missed. Eddie found himself just moping in bed, aimlessly plucking at his guitar strings while Steve had baked the entire kitchen full.

Their streaming schedule even became thrown off, only down to one stream per week instead of their regular three.

They were grieving their friendship with you because they just did not know what they could have done to make you suddenly so distant.

Steve proposed that you might be seeing someone new and didn’t want them in your business.

Though he proposed the possibility, it made his heart hurt to think about.

Eddie decided it was possible and fair, but he couldn’t help but wish it weren’t true.

You were one of the only people who understood and accepted him no matter what. He didn’t want to lose you. He cursed himself for never speaking up about his feelings.

Hell, if Steve didn’t make a move, he wouldn’t have ever told him how he felt.

Frankly, the boy felt like a coward, and he felt like he was getting the short end of the stick in all of this.

Of course he knew how much Steve liked you as well, but he was better with rejection and acceptance.

So here were Eddie and Steve laying in bed after filming a scene. Though Eddie tended to be the more dominant one, Steve was always more than happy to give him extra aftercare.

He needed it more, especially now. Steve stroked his hair as he sighed loudly.

“Eddie…” Steve began.

“There’s just no way, right? I mean…I thought she liked you at least,” he started.

“Eddie.”

“You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, Steve. She, fuck, I can see it in her eyes she wants to fuck you,” he huffed.

“You’re handsome too, Eddie. I always figured she had a crush on you, y’know. Felt out of place until…I didn’t,” he smiled then frowned.

“We gotta do something. We gotta go talk to her, Steve!” he perked up.

“Is that not what we’ve been trying to do all week?”

“Yeah, but we left when she asked us to last time,” he said as he bit his lip in thought, “How about we give her one more week to come to her senses. If she doesn’t, we will not leave her doorstep until we get some fucking answers.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculous plan, though he knew it might very well work.

“Hey, don’t give me that fucking look. I miss her. I miss my y/n.”

•••

Sure enough, you avoided them for the entirety of the week they gave you.

Time had passed by dreadfully slow for all of you, but Eddie now had a plan. He planned to execute it too now that he’s found out from Robin that you had been going in to work regularly for the past two weeks. So you were, in fact, not sick. All that was left to do now was convince Steve to follow through.

“So let me get this straight,” Steve started, “We are to go to her home, bang on her door, and “demand” she let us in?”

Eddie, who was biting nails as he faced away from Steve, turned around dramatically.

“Yes!”

“What if she just doesn’t, though?”

“Well, I figure you’re sporty right?“ he shrugged. “Big strong muscles and all that.”

“So if she doesn’t let us in, you want me to force my way in?”

“Exactly!”

“Eddie.”

“Look, it’s going to work. It has to,” he sighed.

“But this feels kinda wrong,” Steve reasoned.

“Does it?” he dragged out as he squinted.

“Yes.” Steve responded sternly.

He just yanked his jacket from the couch and pulled Steve along.

“Let’s go!”

•••

Three knocks were heard at your door. It was seven at night, but it was still pretty bright out. You figured it could have been the same kid who asks you to buy girl scout cookies every single day at sunset.

You flung open the door.

“Look Abby, I can’t afford to keep buy-,” you cut yourself off. “Oh.”

Eddie and Steve stood on your doorstep looking more nervous than you had ever seen them before.

“Uhm guys, I’m sick,” you said before fake coughing, hoping they’d still believe it.

“Cut the bullshit, Y/n. Robin told us you’ve been going to work every day this week, and you took no days off last week either,” Steve spoke. “You’re ignoring us.”

“No, no! It’s just-“

“Just be honest with us! Are you seeing someone!” Eddie blurted.

“Uhm? What! No! Why?” you replied as you unconsciously opened your door more.

“Well, you’ve been ignoring us for weeks!” he continued urgently.

You sighed and opened the door more.

“Come in.”

Steve and Eddie scrambled in awkwardly. They both stood with their hands awkwardly in their pockets, shoulders touching.

You stood with your mouth folded inward, awkward as well.

Steve decided to speak up.

“Why’ve you been ignoring us, Y/n?” Steve started, “I mean, if you aren’t seeing anyone, I see no valid reason for essentially ghosting us.”

Your mouth gaped. You were at a loss for words.

“Are you…did we do something wrong? You can tell us, or you can at least tell me,” Eddie sympathized as he stepped closer to you.

“Eddie, it’s not-“

“Was it me then?” Steve spoke up, insecurity plaguing his tone.

“Steve, no,” you said as you looked towards Steve with pleading eyes.

“Then what is it!” Eddie found his voice escalating.

“Please, Y/n. Please just say some-“

“I saw your livestream!” you blurted due to the heat of the burning questions.

Both of the boy’s faces fell, color draining from them. Eddie backed towards Steve before looking at him in panic, then back to you.

“Uhm, how long-which one did you, uhm, see?” Eddie asked nervously, not able to meet your eyes.

“Look, I’ve only seen one. It was like a week ago, sometime early in the week. I don’t know,” you sighed.

Their eyes widened more as they fully turned to look at each other now.

“Look, I don’t judge you guys or anything,” you rushed, “I just saw it, and I felt like I just invaded your privacy. I’m sorry, and I completely support your relationship, whatever that may be.”

Steve’s brows raised, and Eddie stood there silent and frozen.

You had no chance to read anything from their expressions, but your chest was clenching. You were lying through your teeth because this hurt like hell. You had been confirmed that they were seeing each other in some sort of way, and despite the little piece of you that wanted to believe they were longing for you, you just figured it was time to be rational with yourself.

Eddie scanned Steve’s eyes for any discomfort because though he loved you so much, he also loved Steve. He knew Steve deserved to have his feelings considered in this situation as well.

Steve gave a small nod towards Eddie causing Eddie to sigh. Eddie turned back towards you, stepping closer and grabbing your hand loosely.

“Did you like it?” Eddie asked just above a mumble.

You were taken aback. You rapidly blinked as you tried to think of an answer. Steve shot a small half-smile in your direction.

“I mean, I guess? Is that okay?” you spoke.

The room was stark silent again, and you began to fidget.

“Yes, that’s okay!” Eddie accidentally shouted. “That’s so okay.”

“Perfect even,” Steve chimed in and you let out the breath you had not known you had been holding.

“So how long have you guys been…”

“Well, me and Steve have been “involved” since about his senior year of highschool,” Eddie began as he went to sit on your couch, Steve following suit.

“What?” you questioned, genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, I mean it was just that I bought weed from him at school, then it progressed from me buying weed to smoking with him, then I would hang out at his house, so on and so forth. We became friends yada yada. I realized I liked him, so I went for it. It was already rumored he was a queer,” Steve explained. You just nodded along because this was something Eddie kept from you for a long time. Longer than you thought.

“Yeah, I turned him gay,” Eddie smiled.

“So you both are gay?” you asked in shock because Eddie had never told you this, and now you felt delusional for thinking either of them had feelings towards you. You unconsciously bit your lip and looked away as tears welled in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid and oblivious.

“Well, no,” Eddie spoke up, “We aren’t completely gay.”

“Oh,” you murmured trying to sound as normal as you could.

“Yeah,” Steve said and looked to Eddie who gave him a small smile before turning back in your direction, “We’re not completely gay. I’m bisexual I think it’s called and Eddie is…well he’s just Eddie. See that’s where you come in, babe.”

Steve smiled nervously at you, and Eddie was now fiddling with his hair (something he only did when he was really nervous.)

You slowly turned your head back in the boy’s direction as Steve continued.

“So I know I’m not completely gay because I’ve liked girls, and I actually like one right now. Eddie also is not gay because…well he’s in love with you.”

Your brows raised as every stage of grief went through you, visibly. Eddie was at the edge of the couch, legs bouncing nervously while Steve sat with a face of utter confidence.

“I-but-you-dating?” you stumbled out pointing back and forth towards the two of them.

“Yeah we kinda are, but if I’m being honest, Eddie has probably loved you way before he started liking me,” Steve chuckled.

“What? For how long, Eddie?” you said as your brows furrowed. Eddie who usually had a big mouth was now sat silent.

“I’d probably say since you both were like little babies from the way he talks abo-,” Steve looked at Eddie who now stared at him with wide eyes, “Uhm, I’ll let him talk now.”

“Eddie?” you spoke softly, “I…is this true?”

“I-yes. Yes it’s true. I’ve loved you since, fuck, since I met you. You remember those little fuckers were hassling you because they thought you ate their little fruit snacks, but then I told them I did it,” he cracked a smile.

“Yeah and shared them with me when we got put in time out. I remember,” you smiled as you looking into his eyes, subconsciously scooting closer to the both of them.

“I love you, Y/n. I really do.”

You smiled at him until you remembered Steve was sitting right beside him and that you had very strong feelings for him as well.

“But what about you two? You can’t love me and be dating someone else, Ed. Right?” you asked as you looked towards Steve.

“Right, about that, look Steve has always known I’ve loved you. It’s just that over time as we hung out, we began to like each other on a more intimate level. Honestly, he asked me out, and I would have never even tried to ask him out. That’s how it was with you. If it weren’t for Steve, I would be passing up two of the greatest things to ever happen in my life. I told Steve that I loved you, and that I could see myself loving him,” he explained.

“Yes and I was okay with that. From the beginning, I always knew. I’ve always noticed you to be honest, Y/n. You stood out to me as well as Eddie. I wanted to get to know you too,” Steve smiled.

You felt so overwhelmed with emotions. This was so much to take in and so suddenly. You’d loved Eddie for the majority of your life, and you were beginning to love Steve. You felt your chances with either one of them was already just too good to be true, but now you had both of them confessing to you.

“Oh I…Eddie I love you too,” you smiled, “and Steve, I like you so much. The way I felt about you both is so strong it’s actually physically aggravating. I knew you two were involved even before I found your streams, and I just backed off. Figured it would be easier to deal with. It’s selfish, but I couldn’t imagine being without the either of you,” you chuckled.

“Not selfish at all, honey,” Steve reassured, “Honestly, I think Eddie here should’ve spoken up a long time ago. Pussy.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he retaliated and shoved Steve.

“Okay before you start bickering like children, I do a have question,” you interrupted.

“What’s that, pretty?” Eddie smiled.

“The streaming thing…how long have you been doing that?” you asked genuinely curious. You’d noticed when Eddie started to buy more expensive things, but you doubt that’s when things started up for them.

“Well honestly…right after graduation. I mean I was 20 and fresh out of highschool. Not too many options for me out there in the world, so I started steaming. Steve’s parents kind of threw him out a few months after that and was couch hopping really, but after a while I told him what I did for money. That’s when he joined, and our audience grew, as well as our bank accounts. Now we have a home that we both can feel safe in. And we get to have hot, hot sex to pay the bills,” he smirked. Steve shoved him.

“So, what are you thinking?” Steve asked.

You shook your head in silence, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier, you idiots?”

Eddie couldn’t help but crack a large smile and shook his head.

“I don’t know because we’re stupid maybe. I do know that I really want to fucking kiss you right now, though.”

“Oh! Okay. Yeah, yes!” you rambled.

Eddie smiled towards you bringing his hands up to cup your face in his hands. Your gaze fell down to him lips before you leaned in. His lips were eager against yours, kiss sloppy and passionate at the same time.

You brought your fingers up to his hair, tugging loosely eliciting a moan from him. You remembered their stream and how big of a slut Eddie seemed for it.

You pulled away quite suddenly, wanting to admire the boy’s flushed face. His lips were slightly red and wet, still puckering.

You guided his face to the side so that you could see Steve’s expression from his spot on the couch.

“C’mere, pretty boy,” you commanded softly. The boy scooted closer to the two of you and you cupped his chin lightly before grazing your thumb over his bottom lip.

You slowly leaned into him. The kiss you two shared was slow and soft, more organized.

“Wanted to kiss you since I met you,” Steve admitted.

“I always want to kiss you, Y/n. Fuck it’s so stupid now to think, but we used to do these little things in our streams in hopes that you would see them and- fuck it’s so stupid. You’ve always been right here, and I’ve always just been a coward,” Eddie said shamefully.

You quickly swooped in to now cup his face, “Eddie, if anyone was the coward, it was me. I had two boys in front of me that I felt absolutely crazy about, and I did nothing about it because of my own insecurities. You’re brave, Ed. Both of you are. You share your most intimate moments to hundreds and thousands of people every week. That’s hot and really fucking brave.”

Eddie nodded with a smile on his face.

“I want to fuck you, and I want you to fuck Steve. I…it’s all I find myself thinking about,” he admitted. You smiled towards him as you pet his hair.

“You alright with that, Steve?” you asked out of concern. You wanted to make sure Steve was on board with everything as well. Poor boy didn’t deserve to ever feel left out.

“Fuck, yes! Have you seen our streams? Pretty sure I beg for it more than Eddie does.”

“So the “mommy” thing…you like that more than Eddie here too or what?” you teased.

“I-“

Steve’s cheeks blushed a deep red.

“Aw, look at that. Stevie wants you to be his mommy,” Eddie pouted sarcastically.

“Shut the fuck up, Eddie,” Steve gritted out. You pouted towards the boy.

“Aw, none of that honey. Be a good boy for mommy, hm?” you reached out to cradle his chin in your hand.

Steve visibly softened and nodded.

“Eddie, kiss him to make up for being a bully,” you commanded suddenly, now beginning to grow into the dominant role. You also just really wanted to see them kiss.

Eddie quickly moved over towards Steve. He hovered over him before leaning down to press a hot kiss onto the boy’s lips.

He absolutely ravished the boy. You could feel the hunger they had for each other in the air, and it made you throb.

Eddie crawled onto his lap in a haste, hands traveling from Steve’s perfectly styled hair down to his chest.

Steve wrapped his arms around the boy’s torso before reaching to remove his shirt. Eddie quickly yanked it over his own head and moved on to removing Steve’s shirt.

You could feel your arousal pool in your panties it seemed.

Eddie began to grind down onto Steve’s lap, and light moans escaped Steve’s mouth.

You decided now was the time to interrupt.

“Alright, Eddie. Don’t hog all the fun,” you smirked as you sat beside Steve, “Mommy deserves to have fun too. Right, Steve?”

Steve nodded adoringly as he stared up at you. Eddie moved from his lap and began sloppily kissing over the boy’s shoulder and chest.

“Want you on me, mommy,” he whined as he tugged you onto him, “Want you here so bad. Always want you.”

“Steve,” you chuckled, “I’m too heavy for that, love.”

Steve eyed you then looked over towards Eddie before shaking his head and giggling. He pulled you down onto him suddenly and positioned you to a more comfortable position.

“See, baby. Not too heavy for big, strong Stevie,” Eddie smiled and placed a peck to your lips.

“Now, I don’t think that Eddie and I should be the only ones half naked.” Steve smiled up at you.

You sighed and nodded softly. You’ve slept with a few people, but this was so different. This felt much more intimate and exposing. You trusted these boys with your life, but you still couldn’t help but think that they might judge you.

You decided to swallow your nerves and fully give into the dominant persona.

“I’ll decide when I take anything off,” you scolded as you yanked Steve back by his hair, “Understand?”

Steve nodded as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

You let him go and pulled off your t-shirt, leaving you in your lounging bra. You did not expect them to be coming over or for that to lead to fucking.

You threw you shirt off to the side and gulped.

“So sexy, mommy,” Eddie groaned.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. You reached out to pull Eddie into a hot kiss.

Steve ground you down onto his lap, and you could feel that he was hard through his jeans. He was so easy. You couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss you shared with Eddie.

“Hard already?” you joked. He nodded up at you, doe eyes wide. “Okay, pants off.”

You stood up as you watched them scramble to get their pants off. Eddie was the first to shimmy his down his legs, black boxers covering him. Though Steve was quick to unbuckle his pants, he hesitated before pulling them down.

“Hey, you okay with this, Steve?” you asked him, concern written all over your face.

“Uhm, yeah. Just that I’m…I’m not wearing boxers…” he smiled nervously.

“Going commando?” you smiled.

He looked uneasy, and when you looked over towards Eddie, he was just wearing a proud smug.

He shook his head.

“Oh,” you gasped as you realized, “Oh.”

Steve nodded before another nervous smile plastered across his face.

“Well, take off your pants, Steve. Lemme see,” you smiled widely.

He gulped before shimmying out of the tight jeans. They always made his ass look so good, you couldn’t help but wonder what it looked like bare and in real life.

Under his pants were white, lacy briefs.

“Tuh,” you let out and propped yourself onto one leg.

Steve still looked visibly nervous, so you smiled towards him, then towards Eddie.

“Eddie,” you started, “Give ‘em a lil kiss to make him feel better.”

Eddie wasted no time hopping onto Steve’s lap. He began grinding down onto the boy as they kissed messily again. Steve wrapped his arms around the small of Eddie’s back, and groaned into the kiss.

You couldn’t help but trail your fingers down to your underwear to rub over your aching clit at the scene. You couldn’t even think about shame at this point.

Eddie pulled away from Steve and turned back towards you. He pecked Steve’s lips before getting off of his lap and directing you onto the couch.

You sat down, letting out a heavy sigh as he crawled over you and began to kiss down your neck. Steve who sat to the right of you began to leave soft, sensual kisses down your shoulders and arms as Eddie kissed down your chest.

He massaged your right breast before letting out a groan.

“Such pretty titties, baby. I love ‘em. Always wanted to tell you, I was always lookin’ at em. Fuck,” he murmured and pulled your boob out so that it was spilling out over your bra. He quickly latched onto your nipple, moaning at the taste of your skin.

You can’t help but moan at the sudden attention to your breasts. They weren’t all that sensitive, but the scene itself made your body twitch.

He flicked his tongue over the hardening nipple as he stared up into your eyes.

“So pretty, Eddie,” you smiled down towards the boy. He looked over to Steve and guided his head towards the nipple that was previously in his mouth.

Steve moaned around your nipple.

Eddie began kissing down your body. He placed multiple kisses over your large tummy, seemingly kissing every stretch mark that lingered the skin.

His hands splayed across your stomach.

As he got down to where your panties rested upon your wide hips, he looked up towards you as he placed slow kisses along your lower stomach.

He used his teeth to pull at the elastic waist band before allowing it to snap back onto your skin.

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped from

your mouth as Steve decided to teasingly bite down on your nipple.

Eddie continued leaving teasing kisses around your lower stomach and hips. You began to lose your patience.

“Won’t you hurry things alone, please?” you said demandingly albeit breathlessly.

Eddie smiled mischievously up towards you, “Anything for you, baby.”

He slowly moved the cotton underwear down your legs, slowly revealing your throbbing wetness, hidden away underneath your hair there.

Eddie had grown impatient as more of you were revealed and quickly yanked the panties on down your legs.

Once they were fully off, he pried your legs open and rested his head on your left thigh.

You had no time to be insecure over the fact that you had a steady growing bush down there because as soon as he was settled, Eddie breathed in your scent as he unconsciously bit his lip. He could feel his mouth pooling from the salivating he was doing.

He breathed you in, “Smell so good. I could sit here forever and just breathe you in. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this.”

He placed kisses onto your thighs and outer lips, tugging at your pubic hairs as well.

You were growing restless, and Steve could sense that. He had moved back up from your chest now, stroking your cheek and pressing light kisses to it.

“Stevie, you gotta get down here. Smell so good, not fair of me to have it all to myself, right?”

Steve smiled at you as he nodded. He moved down your body, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, chest, and stomach before he settled on his knees alongside Eddie.

Eddie pulled him into an urgent kiss before pulling your legs farther apart and directing his head in the direction of the sopping pussy sitting in front of them.

Your chest was heaving in impatience. Eddie was petting Steve’s hair as he sweet talked him.

“Look at that fat pussy. So pretty. You ever seen a pussy that pretty, Steve? I sure as hell haven’t,” he groaned.

“Mm mm, prettiest pussy I’ve ever set my eyes on,” he responded.

You were now so turned on that you contemplated smothering one of them into your wet heat.

“If one of you don’t get to eating my pussy right now, I’m getting up and fucking my damn self,” you sassed.

Their eyes widened at the sudden outburst and Eddie smiled.

“Hm, I suppose we wouldn’t want that. Steve, why don’t you get the first taste? I know you’re great with your tongue,” Eddie explained, “Made me cum just by eating my ass. Talented little mouth.”

Meanwhile, Steve was turning bright red. The act of eating another man’s ass was already so taboo, and to have Eddie just outright admit to it made him feel a tad shameful.

You smiled down at the boy who looked a bit uneasy. You thumbed at his cheek before guiding his head towards your pussy, “I’ll have to be the judge of that now won’t I?”

Steve gave a nervous smile and leaned in. He felt odd. He was a pro at eating pussy, it was his specialty after all. He was never nervous about his performance, yet this felt different.

He swallowed his nerves before wetting his lips. He looked up towards you as he sensually spread your plump outer lips and inched towards your swollen clit.

He gave it a small lick before sucking it into his mouth. You could barely see him over the plushness of your stomach, but that didn’t matter because as soon as he created suction around your clit, your head was thrown back and moans were spewing from your mouth.

Eddie caressed your thigh as he pet Steve’s hair.

“Doing so good, huh? Making mommy feel so good?” he praised, “Yeah, eat that pussy, baby.”

Eddie was gripping onto your thigh tightly as Steve was swirling his tongue around your clit. He dipped his tongue down towards your dripping hole before licking back up the entirety of your cunt.

The surplus of sensations caused you to grab Eddie’s hand to ground yourself.

“Want you too, Eddie. Want you to eat me,” you breathed out. Eddie smiled up at you.

“Your wish, my command.”

You couldn’t help but cringe at the corny statement. Steve even pulled away from you to scold Eddie.

“Really, bro?”

“Shut up,” he retaliated and dove into your pussy suddenly.

He flicked his tongue up and down your clit before sucking down on it. He pulled off with a pop and placed a soft kiss to it.

“Taste better than I ever imagined,” he hummed. “I mean, eating ass is great, but pussy just, mmph. Especially mommy’s pussy, right Steve?”

“Fuck yes,” he panted, “So pretty too. Everything about you is just gorgeous.”

Your chest was heaving as you looked down at the two loves of your life.

“Okay, okay. Enough with the flattery. Back to making me cum.”

Eddie smirked and dove right in. Steve, being the competitive boy he was, spread your legs even wider, nudging himself into place.

Both of the boys took turns swiping at your clit. The scene was so erotic that you couldn’t help picking up your phone to snap a picture of the boys going to town on your cunt.

“Sharing so well. So good for m-mommy,” you spoke brokenly. “Fuck, ‘m close. Gonna make me cum.”

You threw your phone down as the boys sped up their collective motions.

Steve moved to completely suck your clit into his mouth. Just as Eddie was about to slide a finger into your aching hole, your legs began to twitch.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” you shouted as soon as Eddie managed to fit his entire middle finger into your cunt.

Steve continued is menstruations of slurping on your pussy. The sounds of the lewdness filled the room as he sucked you through your orgasm.

Your body let out a final twitch before you slumped completely back on the couch, pushing Steve’s head away as he was beginning to overstimulate you.

You laid there, chest heaving as you seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness.

Eddie and Steve climbed up towards where you were laid back, and they began pressing comforting kisses to your chubby cheeks.

Eddie, being the dumbass he is, sucked a large portion of your cheek into his mouth before letting go.

“Aw, Eddie! What the fuck,” you groaned and went to wipe your cheek.

“Dude?” Steve spoke up.

“What? You want a kissy too?” he teased. Steve huffed, and you couldn’t help but giggle. This caused your thigh to rub up against Steve, more specifically, his hard dick.

“Mmph,” he let out. You flinched a little but quickly realized he was so sensitive because he had not cum yet.

You quickly reached out to caress his cheek and pouted at him, “Aw, poor baby. You still need to get off, don’t you?”

He nodded, giving you his best doe eyes before he panted a quick “yes” out.

You turned over completely to face Steve, unconsciously giving Eddie full access to your ass.

“Here, let’s get you outta’ these,” you spoke as you went to tug Steve’s briefs down so that they were just under his balls that sat heavy and taut.

You admired the boy’s length. It was a blushing pink color that, oddly enough, matched the color of his nipples exactly.

You gripped the length and dipped your finger into the tip.

“You’re leaking,” you smiled as string of the pre connected your finger to the tip as you pulled it away.

“Can’t help it,” he replied, already blissed out. He looked down at you with lidded eyes. You brought your hand up to your mouth to spit into it, then you wrapped it around Steve’s dick, giving it two experimental strokes.

“Feel good?”

Steve nodded rapidly.

“Good.”

Eddie was groping the fat of your thighs and trailing his hands up your large tummy before he ended up squeezing your tits in hand.

You continued to stroke Steve, steadily picking up the pace. The boy let out airy little sounds in your ear as his eyes fluttered shut, and he took in the softness of your hands as opposed to Eddie’s usual rough ones.

“So pretty, Stevie,” you complimented, “Isn’t he pretty, Eddie?”

“Eh, he’s alright. What about me, baby? Am I pretty?” he asked as he went to grip the entirety of your fat cunt in his hand.

You gasped at the lewd act before moaning from the sensitivity.

“You’re pretty too, Ed. So pretty and sexy,” you said breathily as you felt the boy’s fingers rub over your clit and begin to prod at your hole.

You turned your attention back to Steve to speed up jerking his dick.

“So good” you whispered just as Eddie slid one finger into you. “Fuck, so good.”

“So tight. Mommy’s so tight, Steve. Would think this was a virgin pussy if I didn’t know any better,” Eddie smiled against your skin as he began to finger you rougher, adding a second finger. “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby. Can I? Please? Need my dick in you. Need to feel you, make you mine.”

Something about those words triggered you, made you almost insatiable.

“Yeah, fuck yeah. Wanna feel you, Ed.”

You took your hand off of Steve’s throbbing cock and pushed away from him so that you could be lying on your back again. You adjusted yourself on the couch so you were seated farther up.

“Want to look in your face while you fuck me.”

“Anything you want, baby.”

This was your first real look at Eddie’s dick. It was cute! He had his hairs neatly trimmed into the shape of bat. You couldn’t help but smile at that, and his dick was an angry red color as opposed to Steve’s pretty, pink one.

Steve sat up beside you, wrapping one hand around his cock and the other around your shoulder.

Eddie spread your fat outer lips apart to get a good look at your pussy.

“So fucking pretty, Mommy,” he smiled down at you as he went to rub his dick against the slickness of your cunt, repeatedly bumping your clit. “Nghn, fuck yeah.”

“Fuck, want to feel my dick in that warm pussy,” Steve rasped against your neck between kisses he began placing to help ground you.

“You’ll get your turn soon, Stevie,” you assured, “promise.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” Eddie slid the tip of his cock into you before stopping, “That good? Is it okay, Mommy?”

You nodded and pushed one of his curls that were dangling in his face behind his ear.

“So good, baby. Keep goin’.”

He nodded and continued to push his way into you. He was much more gentler with you than the other couple of guys you’d slept with. They all seemed to treat sex like a race to the finish line, forcing their way in almost, aimlessly thrusting into you, and not really giving a fuck about your pleasure after the initial foreplay.

“Fuckkkkkk,” he groaned and bit down on his bottom lip. As he bottomed out, he had to sit still for a moment and turn his focus to the ceiling because the feeling of the girl he loved wrapped tight and hot around his dick and you sitting there kissing his boyfriend as you took his dick was bound to make him cum before he wanted to.

“Take your time, Ed. I know how you get,” Steve smirked teasingly. The two just bantered so much, even in the middle of passionate sex.

“Steve, why don’t you fuck Eddie for Mommy? Don’t you want to stick your dick somewhere?” you smiled cheekily.

“Mm, he doesn’t deserve any fucking dick,” Steve mumbled into your neck.

“Fuck, if I didn’t have my dick in the girl of my dreams right now I swear I wou-“

You cut Eddie off with a warning slap to the cheek before you grabbed his chin and forced his attention onto you.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me like you mean it,” you gritted.

Eddie quickly closed his mouth and nodded. He placed his hands on the back of your couch for more leverage and began to fuck into you at a rougher, faster, more meaningful pace. You were very thankful that the boy was a musician and had rhythm.

“Steve,” you panted, “Get Eddie ready for your dick, or you won’t be cumming at all.

Your eyes held this sense of seriousness in them that turned Steve on beyond belief. He loved to be pushed around and told what to do, and while Eddie was pretty good at it, his demeanor often changed. He was very switchy to say the least.

Steve nodded and got up from his spot beside you to look for a packet of lube he knew Eddie kept in his wallet.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. I could cream this pussy right now,” Eddie groaned before leaning down to kiss you deeply. He attacked your tongue with his, saliva dripping down both your chins.

Steve settled behind the boy and ripped open the lube packet. He poured a bit of it on his fingers and rubbed them together to warm them up.

Without warning, he pulled Eddie’s cheeks apart and licked a long stripe from his balls to his hole.

Eddie faltered inside you a bit, causing him to go impossibly deeper. You whimpered at that before smiling up at the boy.

Steve held Eddie’s left cheek open before he went in with the two of his lubed fingers.

The sudden action made Eddie whimper loudly and slow down his thrusts into you.

“What the fuck, Steve?” he said in a very whiny tone.

You looked back towards Steve who was quickly moving his fingers in and out of Eddie. You smiled at his eagerness and directed your attention back to Eddie.

“His fingers feel good in your pussy, baby?” you cooed. “Bet they fucking do.”

Eddie whimpered as Steve added a third finger in.

“Fuck yes!”

Steve had gotten down on his knees behind the boy, watching the way his fingers rapidly entered and exited the boy’s pink, tight little hole.

“I can’t wait anymore, Eds,” he groaned, “Need to fuck this ass.”

Eddie nodded and stopped his movements inside you completely, allowing Steve to line his cock up with his hole.

“Ready, Ed?” he asked.

“Yes! Get your cock in me.”
Steve wasted no time pushing in, quickly bottoming out.

Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head at the feeling of fullness. He loved it so fucking much despite how often he topped Steve as opposed to bottoming.

“Feel too good, Eddie? Think Steve can start moving yet, or are you going to cum?” you fake pouted at the boy.

“Yes, yes! You can move, Steve. I won’t cum till you do, Mommy. Won’t cream this pussy until I make it cum,” he panted.

“Alright,” Steve huffed before he began pounding into Eddie, giving the boy absolutely no time to prepare.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie whimpered as he fell forward a bit. Steve’s hard thrusts made Eddie thrust into you.

He took a moment to breathe before he picked up his pace in you. His thrusts into you caused him to thrust back onto Steve harder.

He pried your pussy lips apart so that he could thumb at your clit.

“That feel good, pretty?” he asked as he circled your clit with the thumb.

You nodded at the pressure, making you get closer and closer to cumming yourself. 
“Fuck yes,” you moaned and pulled Eddie into a hot, rushed kiss.

You looked up to see Steve staring down at the two of you, smirking.

“This is probably Eddie’s wet dream come true,” he smiled, “little perv probably been dreaming of this since high school.”

The admission of that was enough to make you clench hard around Eddie cock.

Steve rearranged himself so that he would be pressed up against Eddie’s g-spot with each rapid thrust.

Eddie was all whimpers now, fucking into you as quickly as his hips would let him so he could feel Steve’s heavy cock pressing into him harder and rougher.

“Make me cum, Eddie. Come on. I’m so fucking close!” you squealed as your thighs trembled.

Eddie replaced his thumb with his entire hand to rub across your clit quickly.

“Right there!” you shrieked as you clinched down around Eddie hard, cumming all over his cock.

Eddie kept thrusting into you as he was so close to cumming himself.

“Just a little more baby. J-just a little bit more for me, yeah?” he whimpered.

You let him continue to thrust into you, way too deep in pleasure to even think of stopping him despite your pussy being so sensitive.

Steve was gripping his hips tightly, probably leaving bruises as he watched the boy’s ass clap back onto his thighs.

“Fuck yeah, Eddie. Clenching so tight. Are you gonna cum? Cum in Mommy’s pussy!” he asked breathlessly, barely heard over the sound of their skin clapping together.

“Fuck! Cumming!” he shouted as Steve stroked particularly hard against his prostate. He came deep inside you, causing you to let out a little stream of squirt.

“Damn that’s fucking hot,” Eddie groaned as he thrust himself through his orgasm.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” you whined. “Out! No more. Too much!”

Steve pulled Eddie away from you as the boy was almost incapable of doing anything other than shaking like a leaf on top of you.

Steve pulled out of the boy’s hole, holding his cheeks open to watch it clinch and unclinch.

He laid Eddie beside you as he jerked his cock over the both of you.

“So hot, Stevie,” Eddie sighed sleepily.

“Cum for us, baby,” you smiled up at him before you leaned over to kiss Eddie.

You spread your legs again so that your puffy, used, and leaking cunt was on display to the boy.

Seeing Eddie’s cum leak out of your cunt ultimately made Steve cum. He angled his cock so that white, milky strings landed across your tummy and Eddie’s chest.

“Mmf,” he grunted as the final strings of cum left his dick.

His chest heaved as he plopped down onto the couch beside you both.

You all laid there, naked, sweaty, cummy messes.

“So…who wants to shower with, Mommy?”

Tbh this took sm time and was so rough to write. Writing threesomes IS NOT for the weak…so I definitely won’t be doing it anytime soon! Hope you guys liked it though.

Taglist: @emma-munson @user4837373 @paradisepoisons @thedoubleexposurephotography @palmtreesx3 @julesfromeuphoriaismyimaginarygf

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 

 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 

You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 

And by God you did. 

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 

“Care to dance?”

Taglist: @alastor-simp @alastorsgoldie @food-theorys-blog @nunezs-stuff @lbcreations-blog @imperfectbloodmoon @crystalrose36 @nixie-writes @isuckatwritingsobenice @tired-of-life-86 @frompeach @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @witch-of-writing-desk @mary-v193 @chewbrry @mmelionsblog @ladymothbeth @the-cat-queen-peasants @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @alyriaschoenheit @blumin8 @akemika75 @f4turemom @kameyo-kumo @aloenemonabee27 @doc-tooth @theuknowntravel3r @angelltheninth @solandis-does-stuff @navierkalani @deathmetalunicorn1 @star-fawn21 @sleepy-hutao @gamerxpfighter @no1sillybilly @frenchtoastmafia @candyladycry @bladeismine @bones4thecats

[withacapitalp]

All this was inspired by listening to She’s So Overrated by Madilyn Bailey so fair warning LMAO. Also this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO IM SORRY IT WAS JUST ME WRITING DOWN AN IDEA......

Okay so I’m having thoughts about modern AU lead singer Eddie Munson who’s been in the industry for years with the boys. Corroded Coffin is a staple of the metal industry, but for a few years he’s been feeling really stalled in his career and just stuck in place. He’s still making music, still performing, but he feels like he’s getting farther and farther from that kid who used to scream and sing in his closet bedroom in the shoebox apartment he used to share with Wayne. 

So when he and the boys are in an interview and the interviewee brings up how “King” Steve Harrington from The Four is trying to reinvent himself with the help of former bandmate Robin Buckley, Eddie goes off. He works himself up into a little tizzy, ranting Munson Doctrine style about how a former teen pop star trying to become some second rate folk singer isn’t anything special, and that he wouldn’t be caught dead cashing in like that. 

That Steve’s music is bad (even though he’s honestly never listened to it) and “King” Steve is overrated. How even Beiber is better than him. He’s just bullshit. 

Of course the interview goes viral, and finds its way to Steve and Robin. Robin listens to it first and she doesn’t want Steve to watch it. She knows how close things like this cut him (especially that word), and how he’s been dealing with a lot of hate from everyone even from former fans who are confused by the sharp contrast of his new music- aka the music he’s finally being allowed to write now that he’s broken away from his momager- but Steve makes her show him. 

She’s sure that she’s going to have to spend the next week rebuilding his confidence. 

And instead, Steve’s lip curls into a smile, and he grabs his songbook, telling her to find her guitar. 

Eddie wakes up five days after the interview to a huge flood of social media notifications, a dozen missed calls from the boys and his manager and his uncle. He ignores them all and goes to see what he fucked up this time. 

Eddie opens Youtube and it’s at the top of his recommendations. The thumbnail is Steve and Robin sitting together with a guitar in her lap. The title of the video is just one word. 

Bullshit. 

This can’t be good. 

Eddie listens to it even though he doesn’t want to. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. Not anymore. He listens to it because he has to know how much he’s fucked up. 

And then he listens to it again. And again. And again. 

It gets stuck in his head. All of it. Not just the song (which admittedly is pretty killer) but also hearing the flippantly mean words he had casually thrown at Steve being shoved back in his face. He had seen Steve as an abstract thing, just a symbol of everything wrong with the industry, not a real person. And now this actual human being that he’s hearing has turned all of that garbage into a song that feels more genuine then most of the music on the last two albums he wrote himself. A song that has heart, joy, and a strong current of pain underneath, especially in the bridge where Steve just sings the word bullshit over and over. 

There’s even more than that. He also sees the way Robin and Steve interact while they’re working the smiles, the jabs, the silly little way Steve bobs his head along as he listens to her play, the way they both collapse into giggles at the end as Steve directly quotes the part of the interview where Eddie said that Steve “is just another laundry basket devil trying to act like a big shot now that he’s too old for teen girls to moon over.” 

He can’t remember the last time he and the boys had that much fun making a song. 

Hell, Eddie even sees their apartment. It’s a pretty nondescript room, but he can see the wear and tear on the furniture, the cobwebs in the corners of the room, the slightly drooping houseplant with the name “Dart” lovingly painted on its pot. It feels like a home, and as Eddie looks around at the bedroom in his far too big mansion, he feels even more like a fraud. 

Eddie listens to the song on repeat for most of the morning. In the afternoon he finally answers everyone, and starts to put his plan into motion. 

By that evening he’s on the phone with Steve asking him and Robin to help Corroded Coffin write their next song. 

[princessbrunette]

rafe definitely would be the type to get his fwb pregnant, ghost her for a while, and then come back with his stupid shaved head and his hands in his pockets like ‘when’s the next appointment’. he has to take a little panic time to come around to the idea and remember that it takes two to make said child, and then the fear of being like his dad and neglecting his firstborn kicks in and he pops back up ready to sort shit out and attempt to be there to the best of his ability in his own way cause it’s still rafe and he’s not perfect ykwim. definitely could heal him though 🙏. Waddle around in those flowly little dresses cause they’re all that fit in the late stages but cause of the belly it makes them shorter than they already were and he’s a man starved.

GODDDDD this makes me go crazy😀

you’re by no means a pogue but your place is still just small enough to make rafe turn his nose up at it if you remember correctly, proving his disapproval of it when he shows up after a few months, a few shades tanner, buffer, with a buzzed head. he looked older, more mature— but the way he stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, staring unabashedly at the bump that had only just broken into vision, it was clear he was the same old rafe.

“so uh, y’know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” he wanders, slowly pacing your kitchen whilst you brew him a coffee.

“no, rafe. i’m keeping it as a surprise.” your voice is quiet, untrusting. it makes him resist a sigh, scratching at his cheek with a look of discomfort. he just wants his girl back. he wants his family.

“right, right.” he nods, watching you for a moment. he supposes its true what they say about ‘pregnancy glow’ because you look fucking stunning. “baby, i’m really sorry.” he drawls and you flinch a little at the nickname. it’s been a while since you heard that. you turn to him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“i freaked. i’m— i’m a fuckin’ coward and if you hate me, cool— alright i get it. but whether you like it or not, that’s my baby in there. and, and i’m gonna be apart of it’s life. just… let me take you out of here. we’ll start again. tanny hill’s all mine now, can set up a nice little baby room, paint it any colour you want, n’you can stay there too, with me—” he pauses, watching your unsure expression, not quite knowing how you feel about sharing the bed with rafe cameron once more. “…or sarah’s old room. up to you.” he adds reluctantly but gives you the option anyway. he does seem to really want this, and whilst you were mad he just up and left, leaving you to deal with the start of your pregnancy alone you could never resist him. you didn’t want your baby to grow up without a dad, not one bit.

“what’s wrong with my place?” you frown at your shabby little apartment your parents had set you up with.

“this place… tanny hill.” he holds his hands out mimicking a tipping scale, a cheeky smile growing on his face, voice still being gentle with you. that was the rafe you liked.

with his baby inside you, and the two of you spending all that time together, you didn’t stand a chance. you’d wondered how the two of you had ever commit to just being friends with benefits when it’s clear you had great deals of love for one another. he constantly doted on you, spoiling you and buying you whatever, if anything annoyed him he’d remove himself from the situation instead of getting mad like he used to, didn’t let you even walk anywhere alone despite telling rafe it was fine, jumping up to guide you with an arm around your waist once you got more swollen. he was treating you like you were made of glass, even showing reluctance to fucking you when you’d begged him, telling him how the pregnancy hormones were driving you mad and you missed his dick, the blue eyed man furrowing his brows in concern asking whether this could hurt the baby.

once he was passed the concern though, rafe couldn’t help sate his arousal almost every time you’d walk around in stretched out little nighties, swollen tits practically falling out of the top. he’d still be real gentle, don’t get it twisted— opting to grind his cock into you instead of thrusting like a madman remanent of your past with him. he’d stroke your clit with his thumb, your legs spread with his cock burrowed inside you, panting. “its true what they say, pregnant pussy is wetter. didn’t think you could get any better, baby.” he groans, your walls clamping down around him, crying out at his vulgarity.

“get used to this life, sweetheart, ‘cos i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to stop fucking babies into you.”

[1toreyouapart]

What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

A/N: Currently unedited. Sorry. 😬 Read at your own risk, I guess. 😅 Also no word count because I’m lame.

Part 1 - Lilith

Lilith sighed, closing out of TikTok. Every other video was some video about him. Concert footage, old stream footage from five years ago. His music. She couldn't escape him, no matter how hard she tried. Though it stung, she couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of him. Years of constant work had paid off. Noah had made it. The band had made it and was now one of, if not the, biggest band in the scene right now.

But, God, it still hurt. For four years it had been him and her against the world. Her sitting there night after night, day after day, encouraging him and supporting him. Pushing him to keep going when he just wanted to give up. The first three years had been hard, and sure they'd argued, but it had been good. Great, even. It wasn't until their second album came out that everything started to fall apart.

Suddenly it was like he was finding reasons to fight with her. He would stay out later and later. Drank more and more. And no matter what she did, it just seemed to push him further and further away. That last year had been a nightmare. All culminating in the night that he didn't come home until 6am.

The night that when he finally came home, he couldn't look at her. God, she could still smell the perfume that clung to him as he pushed past her, headed upstairs for the shower. Sure, she could have followed him and confronted him, but what good would that have done? They'd have just fought some more and she was so tired of fighting. Instead she'd packed her things and left while he washed off the smell of another woman. Like a coward.

Part of her hated herself for leaving quietly like that. But she just didn't have it in her anymore. One call to Jolly on her way to her best friends had confirmed her suspicions, anyway. Jolly, though reluctant, had confirmed he'd left with another woman that night. In spite of everyone trying to stop him. Noah hadn't cared.

"Earth to Lilly!" Sadie shouted, snapping her fingers in front of her face.

"Hmm?"

"You good? You've been zoned out for like 10 minutes."

Lilly sighed. Was she good? Yes, but no. Having him plastered everywhere was wreaking havoc on all the healing she'd thought she had done.

"Yeah. Just can't escape his fucking face anywhere these days."

"Ew. He doesn't deserve this success. Not after what he did."

"Sadie," she groaned. "You were like siblings at one point. You know how hard he worked for this. Don't be like that."

"Bitch, you should be more like that. After what he did? Moving you out here with him? Just to cheat like the gutless bitch he is?" Sadie huffed, leaning back in her seat. "You haven't even been able to go on a successful date in five years!"

Lilith squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples. Sure, Sadie was right. And she should probably work through why that was, but that was too daunting of a task. She already knew it was because she was constantly afraid she wasn't enough. That there was something just fundamentally wrong with her. Logically she knew that wasn't the case. That it was him and only him that made him do that. But God, it still sucked thinking about it.

"Sadie..."

"I'll stop. I'm sorry. It just pisses me off. Jolly's still mad at him, you know."

"I know." She chuckled. "He reminds me every time he's here. And Matt. And Nicholas."

Her and Noah may have broken up, but the boys had never stopped treating her like she was family. They still came over regularly. Still had family dinners. It was because of that Jolly and Sadie finally got together. Part of her wondered if Noah knew all of this. An even bigger part of her hoped he didn't. Not out of anger or spite. For her own sanity. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed him. Far more than she should. And knowing that if he knew they all still spent time with her and he didn't once in five years try to reach out and at least apologize? That could very well break her.

Her phone pinged, alerting her to a text. And so life went on. Lilith checked the notification, smiling at Jolly's name appearing. Her smile quickly fell, however, when she read the message.

"Anniversary dinner in Danny's honor coming up on the 26th. Mason really wants you there. We all want you there. You loved him, too."

Fuck. She'd missed last year's. Made some excuse so she didn't have to see Noah. Him and Danny had been close. Of course he would be there. Fuck.

"I've been requested at an anniversary dinner for Danny."

"Noah will be there."

"I know." Lilith groaned. "I can't keep avoiding him forever."

"Good chance for him to grow a pair and apologize."

Lilith laughed, though it was hollow. Noah admit to mistakes he made? Fat chance in hell. He was more likely to spend the evening avoiding her just as much as she would avoid him.

"There's about as much of a chance of that happening as there is of me going without my morning chai." Her phone pinged again.

"Yes, Noah will be there. No, you don't have to talk to him."

It was like Jolly had read her mind. A genuine laugh escaped her, her chest feeling light again. Jolly knew her a little too well sometimes. With a grin she responded, pushing the thought of being around Noah out of her mind.

"See you there."

She could do this. She could be around Noah. It wouldn't be that big of a deal. After all, they ran in the same circles. It was a miracle she'd even avoided him for this long. Everything would go smoothly and be totally fine. It was just a dinner. What's the worst that could happen?

Tags: @fadingintothegrey

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Oh to be a fly next to Daniel when he received the news about her pregnancy

His Best Man || DR3 {Daniel’s Reaction}

A/N: quick 700 words written on my phone 💕 F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Daniel wouldn’t normally have his phone with him when he was meant to be listening to the debrief. His entire concentration should have been on the technicians reading the data from the free practice he had just completed. But since you hadn’t been feeling the best you decided to stay home instead of going to the paddock, and it had left him feeling a little unsettled. He missed your company.

Like a teenager in class, he had his phone on his lap hidden under the table and the moment it lit up he snatched it. His thumb froze over the green icon as his brain registered the name on the screen wasn’t yours.

“Excuse me, guys, I need to take this,” he interrupted as he abruptly stood up and left the room. He and James hadn’t spoken since the phone call in Portland nearly two months ago and if the biometric monitor was still attached from the practice it would have caught the sudden spike in his heart rate.

For a second Daniel thought about letting the call go to voicemail but he wasn’t a coward, so he took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hello, mate, it’s been a while,” he greeted with a confidence he didn’t feel.

Immediately James’ laugh set him on edge and he closed the door to his driver room since there were still a lot of people loitering around. “Tends to happen when you fuck someone’s wife.”

“Ex-wife, which tends to happen when you’re a cheating piece of shit,” Daniel shot back.

“Hmm, I don’t remember signing any court documents.”

Daniel was usually patient by nature but his patience for this man had run out on the side of a highway in Perth. “Why did you call me, James?”

“I just thought we could celebrate the wonderful news together, since my wife is pregnant. I’m assuming you’re the father but considering she’s a whore, who knows?”

“Shut your fucking mouth, James,” Daniel growled as his hands threatened to crush the phone with the grip he had. “You don’t talk about her like that, ever, you understand!”

“That she’s a whore or that she’s pregnant? Because both are true.”

“You’re a fucking liar, and she can’t have kids, she already told me.”

James’ laugh sent Daniel’s stomach dropping and a cold fissure running down his spine. “Who's the liar now…”

The phone went dead before he could respond and he stared at his phone as it returned to his home screen. The image was one of his favourites, though every photo of you was technically a favourite, this one was perfect. You weren’t even paying attention to the camera as he snapped the shot, all of your focus was on the tiny joey cradled in your arms as you bottle fed it.

He already knew about your fertility struggles, it was no secret, but it was clear you would have been a great mother had you been given the chance. It was why he was struggling so much to digest James’ words. You wouldn’t have lied about that, he couldn’t believe it.

Needing the reassurance only you could provide, he tied the arms of his race suit around his waist and started to run. It wasn’t far to his apartment block from the paddock but it felt longer as he sprinted full pelt through the busy streets.

Daniel hadn’t even thought to bring his keys and after a few attempts at knocking loudly he went back to the front desk to borrow a spare one. The knots in his stomach had twisted into a noose by the time he unlocked the door and walked into the silent apartment.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his spine as he heard a soft sob come from the bathroom. The sound penetrated his heart and spurred him to close the distance in a mad dash to fix whatever had caused you pain but he never expected to find you the way he did. Pregnancy tests littered the floor, three bold plus signs staring him in the face as he stumbled back against the wall and let it take his weight and he slid down to the floor.

“You said you couldn’t have kids.”

[greenconverses]

I’m big time upset about annabeth’s characterization in these new books. She looked for Percy for a year or something, did everything she did in HOO, she’s so amazing that she caught up on all of her school work (in fact she’s back on track to go to an ivy if she wants after everything that happened to her), she has all this extra time for Percy (having a boyfriend is time consuming enough without his quests), and then she’s so good at socializing with mortals and so popular…. Just to go to New Rome University (wtf is new rome university) and live in new rome. It makes me sad for her because I feel like RR won’t let her be bad at anything or awkward anymore and she just has to be this hyper competent angel gf all the time…

Oh also the way Percy is contrasted against annabeth in this new series makes me nauseous. I feel in some ways she only exists as this hyper-competent angel gf so that percy has something to "aspire to"… as though he hasn't proven himself a million times and deserves to constantly measure himself up against annabeth. It really just robs them both of their depth and motivation and mutual respect for each other that was so painstakingly built up in the original books.

I was telling @perseannabeth last night that while Annabeth had a lot of pagetime in Wrath, she felt like an utter non-presence other than the last couple of action scenes. And yes, it's because he keeps writing Percy as the only one with all the problems and Annabeth is the perfectest, smartest angel who is always right and can do no wrong, unlike stupid idiot Percy. Ha. Ha.

I do think a lot of the character issues in these books come from him avoiding or only introducing easily resolvable conflict with the main trio. Part of what makes Percy and Annabeth, well, Percy and Annabeth is that they have conflict. Conflict doesn't mean they have to be mean to each other or something terrible has to happen to them, but having them at odds with each other over something (anything) allows for interesting character development and growth.

Grover and Annabeth each get moments of "aw I kinda fucked up" in Wrath that are resolved with basically no effort because Percy shrugs it off or blames himself for their actions. I couldn't even begin to tell you how Annabeth's hubris played a part in the third act ghost fight, but apparently it did, so that's a thing he can brush off because teamwork is all that matters in the end, kids!

And the thing is, Rick is actually setting up a really good conflict with Percy constantly bottling up his rage and messy feelings, but he's too much of a coward to pull the trigger on it. Grover destroying the house and releasing the animals was the perfect spot to actually pursue that conflict and give everyone something to do other than mini quests. Percy could've yelled at Grover and Annabeth for failing to do what they had promised him, and then everyone could deal with the consequences (both of the initial mistake and the fallout of his anger) and make amends in a meaningful way. Instead, Percy has to grit his teeth and fucking apologize to Grover instead. (I'm gonna do a separate post about this because boy howdy do I have THOUGHTS on that.)

By making Annabeth the perfectest, smartest girlfriend ever for dumb dumb Percy, RR is basically removing the conflict that makes them interesting together. There's also the matter of conflict being one of Annabeth's main drivers. Conflict happens to Percy ("I didn't want to be a half-blood."); Annabeth looks for it. And now she's just along for the ride... as long as it doesn't mess up her studying schedule! Her job is school now. Don't get your hopes up.

Also, super controversial opinion ahead, but I think the show casting has contributed to how he's writing Annabeth now. He's deliberately avoided describing her in these books. It's all very vague impressions of her, to the point of Percy describing her having a "human face, human hair" when she turns back after the animal transfiguration in Wrath. No blonde hair. No gray eyes. It's weird.

(Note: I'm not saying the TV cast is wrong or weird, I'm saying it's fucking insane that this man is trying to retcon 15 books worth of character descriptions so his dumbass "actually we never SAID annabeth was white, you just perceived her as it!!!!" defense holds some water.)

[otakubimbo]

The Rabbit and The Wolf

I love you????

Kakashi confessed to you and now you must deal with your feelings while going on a mission with him. How's that gonna go?

MDNI. MATURE CONTENT.

Ch 1 2 3 4 5 6

master list

OBnote: Please don't hate me, I know I said this would come out a lot sooner but I'm just a girl????

It takes you a moment to really register everything that is going on and then the panic starts. . You’re completely flustered, mouth agape but no words can be formed. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to say, what could you say?

“I’m sorry for being a coward,” he says still holding your gaze strongly and you can’t do anything else but nob, eyes glossing over as if you were going to cry.

Your childhood best friend said he was currently in love with you. He confessed that he was currently in love with you and has been since that night after your sister's wedding. Before you could even try to wrap your mind around everything that was going on, his face started leaning down towards yours as he went to pull his mask down. Now it was your time to be the coward, you had never made hand signs faster in your life to get the fuck out of there.

Kakashi sighs at the emptiness in front of him. He didn’t really know what to expect from you after his confession and attempt at kissing you. Well, he didn’t expect you would just vanish, maybe yell a little, or be mad and confused. Anything other than disappearing completely. He did see the panic in your eyes before you decided to vanish, but it felt good to finally be honest with you. Above all you were a professional, so he had no doubts in his mind about the success of the mission. He just didn’t know what was going to happen between the two of you now that you knew how he felt that he had been feeling this way for years and never had the guts to confront his feelings for you. There was only one person he could talk to about this, and it was your sister. With a heavy sigh, he turns and makes his way back to the hospital to explain the situation to your sister.

After pouring his heart for the second time today, your sister couldn’t help but chuckle at the two of you. She didn’t expect such a development to occur today, but it was so cute seeing the two of you both flustered over each other, Kakashi more upfront about his feelings than you were currently.

“I did not expect her to be so dramatic, even though, “she begins as she holds back another laugh that was brewing at the imagine of you just pooling away in front of him, “it's not her first time being dramatic”

Kakashi wasn’t as amused by your behavior as it seems your sister was, he really didn’t know what to do at that moment. He had never been good at love or feelings, especially when it came to you. And now here sat the great Kakashi Hatake, the copycat ninja pouting in front of your sister over you. She couldn’t help but find it amusing. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m sure it was a lot for her to hear that from you. She panicked, be it dramatically but I know she feels the same about you as you do about her.”

Her words don’t do anything to relieve his stress over this situation. He just poured his heart out to you, confessing something that he had held onto for a year, and you didn’t even respond, just left.

“Y'all have been in love with each other since your first Anbu missions together. You know I’ve always said that you two would get married. She just got a little panicked and ran, you know she takes after our dad.” Your sister chuckled to herself; you

were your father's daughter. Emotions get too much, time to cut and run. That’s part of the reason you became one of the youngest Anbu’s along with Kakashi, you put all your emotions into training instead of into the death of your mother.

Kakashi knew your sister was right but that didn’t stop all the negative thoughts that were occupying his brain. You on the other hand were probably in worse shape, pacing back and forth in Kurenais' living room.

“What am I going to do?” You ask mainly for yourself. Your friend is trying to keep her composure and not laugh at you. Anyone could have seen this coming, especially you the signs were all there especially more recently but here you were pacing in her house like it was all a surprise that man was in love with you.

“You could tell him that you feel the same.” She offers which makes you stop in your tracks to stare at her as if she had just grown a second head.

“That’s insane” You comment before continuing to pace. Again, she tries not to laugh at you.

You were so dramatic, it’s so obvious that you’re both in love with each other. Why were you making this so difficult for yourself?

“No, that’s usually what happens when two people are in love with each other.”

You freeze again but don’t look at her this time. Just thinking. Were you in love with him? The memory of your almost kiss flashes through your mind. The soft expression on his face, the warmth in his hands, his subtle shyness as he was bringing his face to yours, the fact that at that moment you really wanted him to kiss you. And you were sober, stone-cold sober. Nope nope nope. You shake those thoughts out of your head.

“Insanity” is all you say as you continue pacing. Your friend just sighs, shaking her head as she watches you. She does stop you eventually.

“Okay how about you go get some training in to take your mind off it, yeah? You’re going to drive yourself actually insane and me also with all this pacing back and forth.”

“Yeah alright, great idea. I’m gonna punch some shit.” You say immediately making your way to the door. Once you leave, Kurenai just sighs, you were hopeless truly but what is she to do?

The dummy targets you set up didn’t stand a chance as you started throwing punches at them. There was too much adrenaline going through you currently to not destroy them into tiny fragments with just one hit. Your thoughts are racing as you punch your way through the setup. Kakashi was in love with you. Punch. You think you may also be in love with him. Punch. This felt like a mistake. Kick. Each thought was accompanied by a strike to a dummy.

Amid your thought process, you feel someone sneaking up on you. On reflex, you appear behind them with a kunai to their neck. Realizing who it was, you immediately relaxed and let them go. It was Sasuke.

“What are you doing baby Uchiha? I could have killed you.”

“Glad to see you’re not rusty” He comments rubbing at his throat, there is a small cut there now. Not enough to bleed but it stings. Your hands move to your hips at his deflection, mildly annoyed at his presence during your session.

“What are you doing here Sasuke? It’s late and we have a mission tomorrow.” You scold him. His hands are in pockets not directly looking at you.

“Do you like Kakashi sensei?” He asks and you're taken aback, there is absolutely no reason he should have asked you that.

“You’ve been really nosy today. Off brand” You joke to deflect his accusatory question.

“I went to your house to see if you could train me today since training was canceled.” He begins, face growing red as he speaks. “So, I thought you may be visiting your sister and was going to ask if you could after you were done.”

You stand there confused for a moment as he speaks and then the realization starts to hit you. Why did you choose to have that conversation with that man in such a public place you do not know? You weren’t thinking at the time, and it didn’t seem as if anyone was actually around especially not caring about the conversation the two of you were having. Or so you thought. You attempt to keep your composure, realizing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“I saw you two.”

“And we were just talking. That’s what friends do, kid.” You say ruffling his hair hoping that’s all he saw.

“Yeah but then I saw him try to kiss you and then you dis – “Your hand cuts him off, slamming it against his mouth to get him to stop talking.

“What is up with you and being so damn nosy baby Uchiha.” You say as you choose to not remove your hand from his mouth. In response, he licks your hand once you don’t remove it forcing you to remove your hand from his mouth. Your face scrunches up in disgust at the action.

“That was disgusting and childish. You’ve been hanging out with Naruto too much.” You wipe your hand off on the grass.

“Don’t compare me to that loser.” He huffs at you.

“Then don’t do shit like that kid”

“You’re trying to ignore what I said I saw” He counters. You sigh, squeezing the bridge of your nose between your fingers, wishing he would just drop the topic.

“Why does it even matter? Especially to you.” You ask exasperated.

“Because I care about you, you’re basically the only family I have left and then you left for two years only visiting on the occasion. Kakashi sensei really helped me out a lot while you were gone. You don’t know how much I missed you.” He confesses, his fists are balled up at his side in tension.

“Oh Sasuke” you say before pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry” He barely reciprocates your hug, fist still balled, stiff in your arms. It takes a few moments before his body relaxes into you, taking comfort in the warmth he hasn’t felt in what felt like forever.

“Stop this is embarrassing” He complains pushing you away, once he realizes how much he was enjoying the hug “It’s just after seeing that it just kind of made sense. The way you two look at each other. Ya know. I just thought you would be happier. I want you both to be happy.”

Sasuke was never one to directly tell you how he felt, he was more of an action kind of kid. He always wanted to maintain that brooding personality as if nothing phased him

You sigh, giving him a soft smile, “Thank you for caring about my happiness. That means a lot coming for you Sasuke. It really does.” You pause before continuing, “But it's all just really complicated at this point.”

He scoffs at your response, “Seems simple to me”

“If only it were.” You sigh again, placing your hand on the top of his head. He was so thoughtful, he really reminded you a lot of his brother. The good parts of him, of course. “Come on, it's late. You can stay at my place tonight like when you were just a little baby boy” you tease pinching his cheeks. He hits your hand grumbling but agrees to join you. Maybe Sasuke was right. Maybe it was all that easy. You just didn’t really know how you felt, it was all too much to think about. So many years of unanswered questions, pushed back feelings, all so much. At your house, you set him up on the couch, making him a hot chocolate like old times. Times when things were so much simpler.

The next morning, you wake Sasuke up and he is not too pleased, he’s always been like this, and it brings a gentle smile to your face because he’s still that same kid not at all a morning person. He complained the whole time saying that being early is not being on time, it's just being early. It took some effort to drag him out of your house. Once you finally get to the meet-up spot, he finds a spot under a tree to take a nap before everyone is expected to arrive, he is exhausted. You take a seat next to him and sharpen your swords, this should have been something you did yesterday, but you were a bit distracted for obvious reasons. Eventually, Naruto and Sakura show up, perfectly on time which Naruto surprises you.

“Why is Sasuke-Kun sleeping?” Sakura asks concern written all over her face.

“Oh. I just knocked him out before y’all got here” you say casually trying not to laugh as her jaw drops and she screams waking up the boy next to you.

“OMG SASUKE YOU’RE OKAY” Sakura screams, obviously irritating Sasuke more. Which just makes you fight another giggle that was threatening to escape your lips “y/n sensei said she knocked you out before we got here!”

“Yeah!” Naruto chimes in just as loud.

“No, she didn’t you idiots, I was just tired because she decided to wake me up so early for us to be here.” He complains staring daggers at you which you just laugh off.

“HAHA, y/n sensei had to go to your house to wake you up” Naruto teases.

“Oh no, he stayed the night last night.” You say casually and Naruto’s jaw drops, and Sakura falls backward in complete shock at the thought of what could have been going on in your house with just you and Sasuke last night.

“Why does Sasuke get to spend the night at your house and not me? “Naruto whines.

“Because she doesn’t like you, loser” Sasuke replies as he takes a stand, stretching out from his short nap.

“That’s not true. Be nice.” You say putting your swords up, “It was just circumstantial, and he used to spend the night all the time when he was little.” You ruffle Naruto’s hair.

“Well, next time I’m coming.” Naruto declares.

“Absolutely not” Sasuke argues back as they continue to debate over who can and can’t stay at your own house.

You just laugh and check on Sakura, who was just sitting there in a daze what could possibly be going through her head, “You good?”

“yes, I was just having thoughts,” She says with a glazed expression. You were afraid to ask what her thoughts were. Sasuke and Naruto continue to argue about who was allowed to stay at your house or not and you couldn’t help but laugh at them. It was music to Kakashi’s ears as he walked up on the scene, he loved hearing you laugh. You feel his presence behind you, automatically turning to face him mid laughter and his step falters a bit. Now that he’s admitted to you and himself that he was in love with you, everything you did was magical and breathtaking. He was allowing himself to feel for you openly and it was as if he was seeing you for the first time.

“Nice for you to arrive” You gently smile at him, trying your best to act as normally as possible but looking at him made your heart start to race.

One of his arms goes to the back of his head, as he makes that cocky smile he always does when he’s late “Sorry had to help a cat get out of a tree.”

“You’re a liar Kakashi sensei” Sakura states pointing at him, which he just chuckles at amused.

When the group is ready to leave, the kids lead the way. Kakashi walks next to you, keeping your slower pace. You had never been on a mission with a Team before that wasn’t as equally capable as you, you didn’t want anything to happen to team 7, so you were keeping on high alert. You haven’t seen them in actual combat, so you just wanted to keep focused in case anything happened. Kakashi could tell you were tense, watching your eyes scan the surroundings. This was exactly how you acted on your first mission with him, expecting the worst to happen at a moment's notice. Serious. Quiet. Focused.

“We don’t have anything to worry about on the way there. It’s not like we are escorting documents. It’ll be fine. They’re capable. I’ve trained them. You’ve trained them” He comments hoping to ease some of your worry and your stance relaxes a bit at the thought.

“Sorry,” You mutter, attempting to take some of your guard down despite it being so second nature.

“No problem, I remember when you used to get like this during our first missions when we were young.”

“We? I’m still young. You’re the old one” you point out. He scoffs at you.

“you’re the one who keeps calling them kids.”

“They are kids, I’m just an older kid” you laugh when he shoves into you. You and Kakashi lock eyes for a moment, his gaze softening as he looks at your face.

“Glad you’re here,” he says gaze still locked on yours, soft, loving which makes you immediately break eye contact, feeling your body heating up from the subtle intimacy.

“Well ya know I have a mission to complete, and I have an impeccable record to keep up. Never missed or failed a mission.” You’re trying to stay casual as you twirl a kunai under your finger, ignoring the way your breath is hitching and your heart is beating.

“Yeah, you are perfect.” He states plainly, hands in his pockets. The statement makes you trip over your own feet, “Careful” he teases enjoying the way he was starting to affect you and you just scowl at him not appreciating him trying to mess with you.

Up ahead of y’all, Sakura leans slower to Sasuke and whispers “Did Kakashi sensei take this mission just to flirt with y/n sensei?”

Sasuke looks back to see you trying to hold in laughter, hitting his other sensei playfully.

He shrugs as if the sight doesn’t make him happy, “Seems so I guess, I don’t know or care.”

“But I thought you two were close,” Sakura says confused at his nonchalant attitude.

“Yeah, like a sister and the last thing I care about is her love life,” he says before taking a glance back at you and Kakashi, you are both smiling and laughing at each other as you walk.

“Well, I think they would make a cute couple,” Sakura says

“Wait, y/n sensei and Kakashi sensei are dating?” Naruto says louder than the group wants him to.

“Stop being so loud!” Sakura yells as she hits him in the head. He yelps in pain.

That sound immediately catches your attention, and your hand instinctively goes to your blades then settle as you see they’re just arguing with each other.

“It gets easier” Kakashi mentions at your defensiveness, his instincts since long settled from being so reactionary.

“Oh? You’re inviting on more missions with your team?” You ask coyly, trying to make a joke out of it.

“Absolutely but you know if you ever get your own team.” He says earnestly. You thought about it before shaking your head.

“Nah, I think I’ll leave that responsibility to you.”

“You would be good at it though. You’re good at it now.” He replies as he fixes his gaze on you. The look in his eye you knew he meant it which made you even more flustered.

Time to deflect how you’re feeling, “I don’t think so. I’m more of the lone WOLF type. Ya know”

“Now who’s the comedian” he snorts.

The rest of the way to the village was nice, team 7 arguing about whatever is in front of you two as you talk casually, laughing and joking. It was nice, it felt normal, like old times, once there, you need to find lodging for the night, so you go to the nearest inn.

“Oh, I’m sorry, we are basically all booked for the night due to the festival. We only have two rooms.” The innkeeper says to you as you asked for three rooms. Before you could even make a comment Sasuke interjects.

“That should be fine right? The three of us in one room and the sensei’s in another room.” He says casually, yet he knew exactly what he was doing. You couldn’t even get out a glare before Sakura jumped for joy agreeing. And then, still unable to speak, the innkeeper starts.

“Oh, that’s wonderful I’m glad we can accommodate you.” She says as she leaves to get the keys. If looks could kill, Sasuke would be dead twice. You wrap your arm around Sasuke's shoulder in a playful manner bending down to whisper in his ear.

“I’m going to kill you” you whisper in his ear.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he says as he removes your arm from his shoulder. The damn brat, you were going to choke him later for this. You take a step back while the lady gets the keys to your rooms.

“Is this okay with you?” Kakashi asks just into your ear, sending shivers down your spine

“it’s fine” You say not even turning to him because yeah sharing a room with the man who is in love with you that you may or may not be in love with is totally just fine with you. “It’ll be like old times” you attempt to be nonchalant about it but then remember what happened the last time you shared a room. Fuck.

“As long as its good with you” He says before reaching and taking the key from the lady. It was late so you wished the team a good night, which means it was time for the actual mission. Your mind solely focused on the mission, so focused you didn’t even realize that you were changing right in front of Kakashi before you were already dressed.

“What?”You ask as you can feel his stare on you as you pull your mask from your bag, turning to then realize you just were ass naked in front of him. “I’m sorry” you blurt out almost instantly when the thought came to your head. “I wasn’t even thinking. Just was trying to get ready”

“oh no no no no” He begins waving his hand in front of him, “I wasn’t even looking or anything. Just –“ He states trying to think of something that made sense “Haven’t seen you in your anbu gear in so long, brings back memories.”

Your brain decides to believe him even though a part of you doesn’t, you give him a small smile. “It does bring back memories huh?” You say as you place your ask on the side of your head, the rabbit side eyeing him. “Wanna make a bet?” You ask playfully.

He smirks back at you, forgetting the awkwardness that just occurred “ what are we waging?”

“Hmmn, whoever wins gets the bed” you state, proud of your answer. It was very much like old times. You slide your mask down over your face, “Deal?”

He does the same, extending a hand for you to shake, “Deal”

The bet was simple, whoever gets to the scroll first wins. People think because you’re going in as a team that it’s best to stick together but that’s not the case. Especially a stealth mission, cause if someone gets cause the other person has the opportunity to finish the mission. So, the both of you separated, he went from the back and you went from the front. You weaved through the corridors, it was surprisingly quiet. This made your suspicious on high, you couldn’t even feel any chakra around you. Once you peak around the corner, you see exactly why there was no one the room was sealed. Luckily, unsealing was a specialty of yours but there were so many seals it was going to be annoying. Eventually you completed all of the seals with no sign of Kakashi, you were going to win this bet. Or so you thought until you say the white haired bastard coming through the window of the room.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” you huff in defeat. Luckily, you couldn’t see the smug smile that Kakashi had on his face as you threw a mini tantrum. “You were just waiting for me to unseal the room weren’t you?”

“Oh the room was sealed?” He asked in mock surprise, which made your scrunch up your face in a pout under your mask. “It does seem you’ve lost your touch, it used to take you far less time to unseal a room.” If only he could see you roll your eyes but he could see you flip him off.

It was no work finding the scroll after that. But now what about the bet?

No winner. A tie between the two of you since technically you both did reach the scroll at the same time regardless of him using your own skills to his advance. Now here you were back in the room with no compromise of sleeping arrangements. With that thought in your head you rush to the bathroom to shower first. You made sure to scrub your body throughly it’s not like you were planning on doing anything tonight. You were definitely not doing anything tonight but you didn’t want to stink of anything. Your brain was doing its best to relax itself as you finished your shower and slipped into your pajamas. Thank the heavens that you actually brought real pajamas instead of the oversized shirts that you usually wear. Kakashi went in right after you, not waiting for any conversation on sleeping arrangements.

As you waited for him to exit the bathroom, you couldn’t help but fiddle with your weapons, it was a nervous habit you had. It happened on the way there and it was even worse now, your nerves unsteady with what the night could entail. You felt like a damn teenager with your first boyfriend, it shouldn’t be this nerve wrecking. It was just sleeping in the same bed with him, nothing more than that. Well yeah, tell that to your stupid heart that was beating so fast and loudly in your ears that you just knew it could be heard from outside your chest.

Once he came out of the bathroom, he noticed your frazzled state, a wave of concern came over him. He could only guess what has got you in this state, sharing a bed with him but he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know where your head was at.

“You alright?” His voice held such a soft tone of concern for you, yet and still your head snapped up at the sound of his voice. Your hands immediately stop fiddling with your weapons, the look on Kakashi face was of concern. He didn’t have his mask on and his visible frown took you back for a moment. You used to see his face all the time but it’s never held such a softness and concern for you as it did right now and if it did before your brain couldn’t think of a time to remember.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine, I just guess….” You begin before looking away from him, “since no one won the bed, we just have to share the bed.” You’re hoping your voice sounds as strong as possible but you know it doesn’t. Kakashi doesn’t think he’s every heard you speak so nervously.

“Are you fine with that?” He asks hesitatingly, you looked like you were going to run back to Konaha at any moment. “I can just sleep on the couch, it’s fine. It’s not like I haven’t slept in worse places.”

“No, really it’s fine. Neither of us should be sleeping on the couch when there’s a bed available.” You say with a shrug. The cot that should have gone to your room, you had to give it up to the kids since it only had two beds. You quickly lay in the bed before you could change your mind, pulling the covers over you. Kakashi carefully gets in the other side, back towards yours. There’s a comfortable silence between y’all, that you feel the need to break.

“I missed going on missions with you, that was too easy” You say not bothering turning around to face him while you speak.

“it wasn’t that easy because you didn’t beat me” He teases which makes you turn over to face his back poking it.

“First of all, we were in and out. But if I brought up the fact that you had less obstacles than me, you’d be sleeping on the floor. I’m literally the one who unsealed the room!”

He turns to you when you poke him again after his statemen, a small smile gracing his face as you pout at him.

“I missed this. I missed you” He confesses and yet again your brain turns off. You hated this new characteristic of yours, every time he did something it just made your heart race and your thoughts jumble.

All you manage to get out was “Kashi”, your mouth not being able to form any other coherent words. Somehow you can see the way he’s looking at you even in the dark, you could FEEL the way he was looking at you. You want to disappear again, but you can’t, so you think of the second-best thing.

“I think I’m tired.” You abruptly say before turning over hiding your face. Kakashi sighs inwardly realizing he may have pushed a little too far too soon with you, you weren’t rejecting him, you weren’t pushing him away but you were trying to run, run from your feelings, run from him. Maybe your sister was right about you after all.

It took everything in you to force yourself to go to sleep, you could at least escape this situation in your dreams. In the midst of your sleep, you woke up briefly to get yourself rejected in bed. There’s a warmth underneath you that is trying to bring you back into your deep sleeps. Slowly though, you realize what’s going on lland the position you were in as you raise your head out of sleep. It took all your strength to not immediately jump out of the bed, you take in your own form, your arm and leg were thrown over Kakashi as his arm held onto your back in a cuddling manner. You thought about moving off of him, out of his grip, until you saw. His face. He was much like you in the way that he was always on alert for something but the look he had on his features right now was one of pure relaxation. He was relaxed and you realized that you had been relaxed too. What would be the harm in staying in this position, you would be the only one who knew that you knew. You could enjoy this secret for yourself, you think as you lay your head back on his chest snuggling in. Soon enough, you were peacefully back to sleep but little did you know that in your moments of contemplation Kakashi in fact did wake up. He studied your face through half open eyes as he could see a discussion in your head until laying back down into him. Kakashi couldn’t be more at peace as he felt you snuggle in all your consciousness back into him.

taglist: @smarsd @ferretsqueen @yellowflashof-theleaf

[pedroshotwifey]

To The Flame chapter nine

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark Javier Peña x Fem!reader

Chapter word count: 2.1k

Chapter tags/warnings: fluff, angst, manipulation, anxiety

Chapter summary: Making this move is going to be tougher than you thought...

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm super excited because after this, things are going to get real dark real quick. We can really see some of the first big bits of manipulation here. I already have so many deliciously dark scenes written, and I can't wait to share!

****

The next couple of days are chaotic, full of making arrangements for flights, organizing through all of your possessions, and figuring out what bills need to be discontinued. It’s a lot to handle, but Javi takes it in stride, making sure you don’t have too much to worry about. 

He handles most of the interactions and arrangements when he’s not working, leaving you to get the little things done. Even though you’re not tasked with much, it’s still extra stressful to deal with after just having moved a few weeks prior.

You barely have any time together since Javi’s running around trying to get everything done in time, so you savor the moments when your schedules actually align. It’s mostly at night, after he gets home, and the two of you will eat dinner together and then do whatever you have the energy for. 

Today’s the first day he’s been given off since he found out about the promotion, and if everything goes according to plan, he should be off until the move. The two of you have gotten everything you’d needed to do today knocked off the list, and decided that you deserve a bit to relax instead of more packing. 

You both sat and watched TV for the better half of the day, all the fans on and the windows open in an attempt to cool off. The house is fucking sweltering thanks to having to cancel the A/C. It’s one of the hottest days you’ve had all year, because that figures. 

Both you and Javi have peeled off your shirts, leaving you in your bra and shorts, and him in his usual jeans. Despite the lingering looks thrown each other’s way, you both know it’s too hot to engage in celebratory activities right now. 

Javi’s on the phone in the living room while you prep some sandwiches for lunch to use the rest of what you have in the fridge. It’s likely that the next few days will be filled with an ungodly amount of fast food and diners. 

You finish putting the sandwiches together and slip back into the living room with two plates, handing one to Javi as he hangs it back up on the reciever. 

“Here you go baby.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Javi smiles at you. 

You take a seat next to him on the couch and the two of you eat in silence, too tired to have much to say. You’re both off in your own worlds, you thinking about what you have left on your checklist; sort through clothes, pack pictures, get the dishes organized, call your sister. 

You stop on that one, resisting the urge to cringe. You haven’t called her since you moved, and she has no way of getting to you. You feel like a coward but you almost don’t want to face her. You’ve done nothing wrong, and yet you almost feel like you’d abandoned her and moved on. 

You know she wouldn’t think that, but it’s still a nagging concern in the back of your mind. What would you even say? Just tell her that you’re moving? You don’t know your address for Columbia yet, but the least you could do is let her know what’s going on. 

You finish your sandwich and sigh, making Javi glance your way. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, just tired,” you tell him after a second, deciding you don’t really want to explain the way your entire thought process just went. 

“I’m sorry, baby. We could take a nap if you want?” 

You smile at him. “ I Might have to take you up on that in a minute.” 

You gesture for his empty plate and he hands it to you, offering to do the dishes instead. You, of course, shoot him down. It doesn’t take you long, but you’re able to convince yourself to bite the bullet as you’re sticking the plates in the drying rack. 

You walk into the hall with the phone, drying your hands on your shorts as you go. Javi’s brows furrow as he watches you pick it up. 

“What are you doing?” 

You pause on dialing and look up at him to where he’s still sat on the couch. 

“I’m going to try to get a hold of my sister to tell her we’re moving.” 

Javi sits up a bit, suddenly more energetic than he has been all day. “You can do that later, can’t you? Come see me.” He flips his palm up and reaches for you the tiniest bit. You smile warmly at him. 

“Just give me one second, it’ll be quick,” you tell him. He frowns. 

“I’ll be quick too. Just a kiss?” He smiles hopefully up at you and you melt a bit before giving in. 

“Alright, just a kiss, no more, you bad man,” you laugh at him as his smile widens the closer you get. 

You lean down to meet his lips, and then you’re being pulled forward, giggling as you land in his lap. His mouth immediately finds yours as he pulls you into him, trapping your body against his. 

“Baby,” you laugh, trying to pull away. “I’ve got to call her!” 

Javi hums to signify that he heard you, but doesn’t let up from the sloppy kisses he’s planting on your neck and chest. You can’t help the small moan that slips as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot. 

“M, Javi, I’m being serious honey,” you try again. “I need to get in touch with her before they cut off our service.” You try to push yourself up, but his arms tangle more tightly around you. 

“Javi, quit,” you’re not joking around anymore. You’re a little concerned that the service is going to be cut off sometime today, since it was the day you were supposed to pay for it. You’ve already put off calling your sister for too long just out of nerves, and now you don’t want to miss your chance. 

You push against him, trying to pry his arms away, and this, combined with the seriousness ebbing into your tone, finally catches his attention. He looks up at you, a slight pout on his full lips. 

“I just need to let her know,” you say, waiting for him to loosen his grip, but he only sighs. 

“Honestly, I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” he admits, looking at you with genuine concern. 

You frown, a bit taken aback. 

“What do you mean?” 

He sighs again and looks down past you, almost like he’s getting ready to explain something to a small child. You don’t like the way it makes you feel like such. You’ve noticed recently that he has a tendency to make you feel like a kid, though you don’t think it’s intentional. The age gap definitely doesn’t help either. It makes you worry sometimes that you’re too immature for him, even though you know you’re not in the slightest. 

“I don’t think you should tell anyone you’re leaving,” he explains. 

“What? Why? She’s my sister, she deserves to know.” You have no idea where this is coming from. You’ve told him about your relationship with your sister, how it’s nothing like your connection with your parents. 

“Can you really trust her not to tell your parents though? Or them to not listen in? They don’t need to know your address.”

You shift uncomfortably in his lap, getting agitated with his protests. 

“Javi, I’ll literally be in a different country, I don’t think it matters even if they do.” 

His lips press into a thin line and breathes deeply through his nose. He unwraps his arms from around you to place his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he looks back into your eyes. 

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s my job. My superiors want me to limit who knows our address, especially if it’s not someone we can completely trust.” 

Your stomach sinks at this. It makes sense, and you don’t want to do anything that could jeopardize his position, but leaving your sister with no explanation? She’s done nothing to deserve that. 

“But I–” 

He cuts you off with a pointed stare, his jaw ticking slightly. 

“I’m not asking for much here. It’s just one thing. You really can’t do that?” 

Your ears heat with shame as you swallow down bile rising into your mouth. You cast your gaze down so you don’t have to look at him with your embarrassment. You’re being selfish again, and you both know it.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” you apologize quietly through the lump in your throat. 

Javi’s hand comes to your chin, raising your eyes back to his and seeing the sheen in them. He tuts sympathetically and cradles your head to his chest, petting your hair in a soothing motion. 

“I know it’s hard, honey. I’m sorry it has to be like this.” 

You nod into his shirt, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your efforts to keep them in. You feel extremely overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

He hushes you and lets you cry silently into his chest, whispering encouragement as he rocks you gently. 

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

And you know you will be, it just doesn’t seem like it right now. 

*****

You have pretty much everything else packed within the next few days. It was honestly miserable having to put everything away after you’d just put it out, both in a physical and emotional sense. You don’t know how many times you had to remind yourself that you were doing this for Javi, that he deserved it. 

That fact definitely softened the blow, but not enough so that the sadness was completely snuffed. And now knowing that you’ll have to pretty much cut contact with your sister, who is also your only friend, it’s been a hard pill to swallow. It’s going to be hard leaving everything behind, but you’re willing to do it for your husband. Hell, he’s the one that got you here in the first place—it’s the least you could do. 

You leave for Columbia tomorrow, most of your stuff already in the process of being moved to the apartment Javi was assigned to. Well, most of the stuff you were able to move anyway. You’ve had to pick and choose what you want to bring with you, and what needs to stay at the old house for storage. The apartment isn’t very large, so there’s no way to take everything. Another thing that saddens you. 

You’d picked through all of your clothes and decided to put all your dresses into a box for storage and take everything else. There’s no sense in bringing them since you’ll likely not have a need for them. There’s only a couple that you stuffed in with everything else, just in case. You’re also bringing your books, some photos, and some sentimental things from your childhood. 

Javi’s bringing about the same. Just his everyday clothes, a suit or two, and some of his personal items. It all got loaded onto a little trailer, and Javi took it either to the old house or to the airport. 

You’re left now with just the bare minimum in the house. A few kitchen items, the couch that you won’t be able to move, and the mattress that you’ll be taking tomorrow. You’re both laying on that now, you with a book in your hand, and Javi reading through some paperwork. 

He received his assignments a couple of days ago, and he’s been looking through to memorize most of the important stuff. It sounds like there’s going to be a lot less office work in his future.

You put your book down, huffing a dramatic sigh. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m bored.” 

He puts his paperwork down, rubs his eyes, and purses his lips at you. 

You smile at him, and he can’t resist the way his lips tug up as well. You crawl over to him, situating yourself into his side, and hand your book to him. 

“Read to me.” 

He sighs at you but takes the book. 

“I’m probably going to be slow.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“Alright, fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

You smile wider, snuggling further into his body as he clears his throat and picks up from the page you left off on. Your eyes close as you listen to the sound of his gravelly voice somehow smoothing out as he gets into the groove of the love story. 

Before long, your eyes start to get heavy and you have to actively resist the urge to fall asleep. He’s not even a chapter in when you’re lulled to sleep by his voice and the ceiling fan running in the background.

**** Hope you enjoyed this chapter! It wasn't my favorite but some of these next ones are, so stay tuned 😈

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog

[separatist-apologist]

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

Lucien slander incoming

Gwyn was up before Azriel in a scene fairly reminiscent of just two days earlier. The shadow singer was on his stomach, face turned toward the closed blinds, body blanketed in shadows. She’d forgotten to pull a blanket over her naked body which was just as well given his massive wing covered her with far more warmth.

She had to be careful where she touched lest she rouse him. One wrong touch of his wing and he’d pounce, and Gwyn didn’t think he’d let her out of the bed for the rest of the day. Shivering with desire, she managed to get out from beneath him, watching as one strong arm reached outward blindly for him.

In his exhaustion, he didn’t realize the pillow she slid beneath his armpit wasn’t his mate. She’d be back—she wanted to surprise him with breakfast and  track down some clean clothes so she didn’t have to slink around in one of Azriel’s strange, over-sized, button-up tunics. 

Gwyn didn’t dare let herself feel an ounce of shame as she made her way back into the library. It had once been her sanctuary—her home. 

And she smelled of a male. Clotho turned to look, brows raised before returning to what she was reading at the desk, but Gwyn caught the way her nostrils flared. Her stomach sank ever so slightly, though she kept moving. Had Merril replaced her, she wondered? Gwyn was too much of a coward to track her down and find out. 

Instead, she quickly gathered some of her clothing before changing into a familiar, soft blue dress, and made her way back out with the kind of stealth she’d employed in Montessere. As to how stealthy she was, well.. that was debatable, given the Day Court scholar was waiting for her just outside the library, arms crossed over her chest.

Eris Vanserra’s mate. 

That wasn’t an enviable position as far as Gwyn was concerned. She was better off hidden here than trapped with Eris, who had never once demonstrated himself to be anything other than a two-faced liar. Maybe his mate was, too.

“You stole something from me,” Gwyn said by way of greeting, holding her stare. 

Arina shrugged. “And?”

I already don’t like her.

“I want it back.”

Arina shrugged a second time. “Maybe I lost it.”

How mad would the High Lord be if she strangled her, Gwyn wondered. Would he be angry over a little light beating? A casual amount of stab wounds if they didn’t kill her? 

“You didn’t.”

Green eyes flashed with defiance. “Prove it.”

Gwyn couldn’t help the low, frustrated noise that escaped her. “What do you want, then?”

“The book.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Arina crossed her arms over her chest, hip jutted outward. Did she not understand she was a prisoner? This wasn’t the time to negotiate. Gwyn’s temper was going to get the better of her, and if she got caught fighting just outside the library, there would be hell to pay from everyone. 

“You can help me, if you’d like,” Arina suggested.

“I could also call Eris Vanserra to come get you,” Gwyn retorted. He was her…what? Cousin? Uncle? She hadn’t asked a lot of questions, to be fair, and didn’t intend to. The blonde before her wrinkled her nose, confusion written all over her face.

She didn’t know.

Oh, how fun. Gwyn could ruin everything simply because it amused her—could torment Arina, could hold it over her head. 

“Why would you call him?” Arina demanded, some amount of alarm in her gaze.

“You’ve angered a lot of courts.” Gwyn decided that for now, secrets were better kept just that. “Give me the cipher—”

“Even if I gave it to you, you wouldn’t know what you were reading,” Arina snapped, her patience at an end. “I am a scholar in the Day Court and you are, what? A soldier who got lucky? Another Night Court spy?”

That stung, though Gwyn understood why Arina thought so. “I know enough.” Arina snorted. “Your type always thinks so—as if wielding a blade makes you an expert in everything.”

“You can’t wield a blade?” Gwyn asked curiously. Arina didn’t look defensive, didn’t seem bothered at all.

“No.”

She was going to Autumn. Gods help her, Gwyn supposed, done with the conversation. “I’ll speak with the High Lord,” she said, hoping the mention of Rhys might change Arina’s mind. The scholar merely shrugged again, tossing strands of that golden hair over her shoulder as if to say, you do that. 

Gwyn left her, bag slung over her shoulder and pride wounded. Bitch, she wanted to scream. She swallowed it, frustrated, and made her way back into the House of Wind. Angry, Gwyn yanked open the door just as the person on the other side approached. Azriel stood here, eyes as wild as his sleep mussed hair.

Ah right. Mate, her blood sang at the sight. “You were gone,” he said, voice still thick with sleep.

Gwyn lifted her bag, offering what she hoped was a sweet smile. “I needed clothes.”

“For what?”

Gwyn held his gaze, the air filled with the salty tang of his desire. Wasn’t he exhausted? She still felt sore between her legs and though she couldn’t prove it, Gwyn was fairly certain she was walking bow-legged. 

“I thought it might be nice to walk through the house without giving Nesta and Cassian a show.”

“They’ve earned it,” Azriel mumbled, pulling the bag from her shoulder as though it offended him to see her carrying it. Gwyn couldn’t deny that she didn’t like the way the muscles in his stomach tightened, revealing abs just beneath his warm, scarred skin.

“You look unhappy.”

They fell into step, and Gwyn marveled at how easy it had become to talk to him. To be around him. So much had changed—she hadn’t had a chance to truly take it all in. The realization slammed into Gwyn hard, nearly knocking her backward. Azriel noticed—he noticed everything—eyes narrowed.

“I’m not unhappy,” Gwyn said slowly, her mind racing. “A lot has changed.” Fear flitted over his expression, squashed into careful neutrality. 

“Ah.”

“I see the ghost of myself, unaware of what’s coming,” she continued, chewing her bottom lip. “I wonder what she would make of all this.”

Azriel only nodded his head, dropping Gwyn’s bag on the floor of his room. There was a question there—as if he wondered if that was too presumptuous. It wasn’t. Gwyn wanted him to push her back to the bed, but instead he tucked his wings tightly against his back as he pushed further into the room, sliding a shirt over his head.

“I need to speak with Rhys,” he told her, not meeting her gaze. What was wrong? “I’ll see you later?”

There was some other question lingering, one he didn’t vocalize as he moved out of the room again. Gwyn stopped him, hand on his chest, to lean up on tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek. She didn’t know how to ask him to stay without it feeling too forward, so she only said, “I’d like that.” Relief shuttered across his expression.

“And you will.”

Azriel was gone then, glancing one last time over his shoulder as if he needed to be sure she was actually there. Gwyn, too, liked the sight of him from behind almost as much as she liked the view from the front. It took her a moment to shake the thought—to resist the urge to chase after him, tackle him to the ground, and have her wicked way.

Later, she reminded herself. With Azriel gone, Gwyn’s mind cleared enough to let her think. Arina. Eris’s stupid mate—what a match made in the hells, she thought grimly. She wasn’t sure who she disliked more, though she did understand, on some level, why they’d been paired together. 

Nesta and Emerie were up on the roof with Cassian, dressed in their leathers as they continued to train. Gwyn hadn’t seen them since the previous day, and Azriel had taken over their reunion for penis related activities. 

“I thought you’d be busy—hells, Nesta, what the fuck—”

“Stop talking,” Nesta breathed, pulling out of a stretch to see Gwyn. Emerie came, too, bouncy and full of smiles. From just behind her, Morrigan helped Cassian back to his feet, her brown eyes dipping down Emerie’s back.

What was that about? 

“So…” Nesta began, rocking on her heels, “how was last night?”

“You were so loud,” Emerie added, eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“How could you possibly know that over in Windhaven?” Gwyn demanded.

“Oh, Em wasn’t in Windhaven, she was—”

“Nesta!”

“Secrets?” Gwyn asked, trying to swallow the small twinge of hurt. She’d been going, but Nesta and Emerie had been here, together. They’d bonded over things and Gwyn would have been lying if she said she didn’t feel a little hurt. It wasn’t their fault.

“It’s not a secret,” Emerie said, shifting on her feet. “I just want to talk about it somewhere more…private.”

That led to the three of them turning right around with only a casual wave at an indignant Cassian. Gwyn peered over her shoulder to look at Mor again, who didn’t seem to notice at all. Her eyes were, once again, lingering on Emerie’s hips. Gwyn swallowed her questions as they made their way back down to the house. Once they were alone in a den, doors shut firmly behind them, Gwyn said, “Spill. From the beginning.”

Emerie’s cheeks immediately went scarlet while Nesta’s sharpened like a cat with a mouse beneath her paw. “Emerie and Mor are courting.”

“It’s not—you make it sounds so formal—”

“She came all the way up to the house with flowers and asked to show you the city,” Nesta argued, smile wide. “What do you call that?”

Emerie looked to Gwyn for help, but Gwyn wanted to know the answer. “Is she the one who fixed your wings?”

Nesta’s smile widened. “Not technically. She ah…she asked Rhys to talk to the High Lady and she did.”

“It’s become a whole thing in Illyria,” Nesta told Gwyn, lowering her voice as if the Illyrian’s might overhear. “No one realized the healing magic in Feyre’s blood could fix broken wings, so 

Emerie was the test subject.

“Once it did, we opened it up to any female in Illyria,” Emerie added, cheeks still bright red. “Twice a week, the High Lord and Lady go up to Illyria with Cassian and myself. We were doing it by sign-ups, but realized the males were keeping them from coming. Now Cassian rounds them all up.”

Nesta’s smile slipped, her gaze icy. “It’s not going well. A few of the females had their wings re-clipped, and rebellion broke out further north and every time Cassian quells it, another pocket pops up.”

“That bad?”

“I offered to go in,” Nesta said, eyes glowing softly. “Feyre, too. But Rhys wants to try and preserve as much as we can—diplomacy is, frankly, annoying.”

“What kind of diplomacy would even work?” Gwyn mused, wondering how you convinced a culture that pre-dated the Night Court itself to change their practices. 

“Killing the most vocal, outspoken leaders and installing people the High Lord can trust,” Emerie said softly, her face burning with satisfaction. “There have been whisperings of Dark Bringers coming in to enforce the new policies, too. I know it’s wrong, but…it’s kind of nice seeing some of the males who have hurt us face the wrath of Cassian’s sword.”

“Do you remember Balthazar?” Nesta added, as if Gwyn had ever forgotten him. He’d helped them during the Blood Rite—they all owed him a life debt. “He’s been helping change minds, especially among younger Illyrians. It’s the older ones that are the most vocal, the angriest. They think if females are made equals, they’ll turn around and punish them.”

“I wish,” Emerie mumbled. 

“Feyre held a town hall to let them voice their concerns but it turned into a bloodbath,” Nesta continued. 

“One male drew his sword and pointed it at Feyre and every dissenting voice in the room was gone like that,” Emerie said, snapping her fingers to demonstrate. “The High Lord was so angry.”

“Why are you laughing?” Gwyn asked.

“My brothers were among them. They should have known better than to threaten the High Lady,” Emerie said with satisfaction. 

“So you found a partner and started a revolution in the span of a month?” Gwyn questioned, impressed. 

Emerie beamed. “I guess I did.”

“Now tell us about you, so when I have to answer to Feyre later for going behind her back, I at least know what it was all for,” Nesta said, dropping onto the sofa, her smile returned. Emerie took the chair by the fireplace, leaving Gwyn to curl her feet beneath her on a little two-seater and explain, in depth, everything that had happened.

It was well past dinner by the time she finished talking—Nesta had asked the house for food at some point, though Gwyn couldn’t quite remember when. It was like old times, though—it felt like a lifetime had passed between the last time she’d really talked with her friends and leaving for Montessere. She wished they’d been there with her—that she’d been part of everything just as they, too, could have helped her navigate everything with Azriel. 

“So she stole your cipher and is holding it hostage?” Nesta demanded, outraged. “In my house?”

Emerie was already on her feet, reaching for the door. “We’ll get it back—”

On the other end stood Azriel. The three of them went silent at the sight of him, eyes wide. His lip was split and bloodied, left eye swollen and purple. Blood had dried over his cheek, standing his otherwise beautiful skin.

“Tomorrow,” Emerie whispered, sliding out past Azriel. He moved to let Nesta past, too, his eyes practically burning. 

“What happened?” Gwyn demanded angrily, walking toward him to lightly touch his face. Azriel hissed, turning away from her. 

“It’ll heal.” “Who did this to you?” she pressed, her anger bubbling beneath her skin.

“Would it help if I said I deserved it?” Azriel asked, a hint of humor in his voice. 

“No! Would you feel good if I looked like that and all I’d say is that I deserved it?” she snapped. Some of his amusement slipped. 

“It’s over,” he told her. 

“Was it Rhys?” she pressed, vowing that she’d tell the High Lord exactly what she thought of him if he’d hurt Azriel, regardless of being High Lord.

“No.”

“Az—”

“It was Lucien,” he told her, voice low. “I didn’t hit him back.”

“Who?” Gwyn demanded before she remembered, vaguely, Lucien had come by once or twice. “Why?”

“I pissed him off,” Azriel ground out. He wasn’t going to tell her, and in her mind, Gwyn just knew this had something to do with Eris. Everything going wrong had something to do with Eris. Lucien was a Vanserra, and Gwyn just assumed his loyalty was to his brother first. 

“Fuck him,” she said softly, her voice laced with venom.

“Fuck Lucien?” Azriel questioned, arching a brow. “No, fuck me.”

“You’re hurt—”

“Not that hurt,” Azriel murmured, reaching for her face. “I think seeing you undressed might help me heal faster.”

Gwyn couldn’t help her laugh. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” she murmured, though she left him take her by the hand to lead her down the hall.

“Only one way to find out, Berdara.”

Indeed.

—

Azriel hadn’t expected to run into Lucien first thing in the morning. There the male was, though, striding up the steps toward the River House only a few paces in front of Azriel. Gods, he didn’t want to talk to another fucking Vanserra. Azriel intentionally slowed his pace, deciding if Lucien was there to see Rhys, he’d take Nyx off Feyre’s hands and waste his time teaching the baby swear words.

Maybe he’d take him up to the House of Wind and show him to Gwyn. And she’d take the baby in her arms and he could pretend—

“You know,” Lucien had stopped, unnoticed by Azriel who’d been lost in his daydream. “You’re a piece of shit. Do you know that?” Azriel blinked. “How have I offended you?”

But he knew. He knew the moment he saw Lucien’s clenched hands that Elain had ratted him out—had told him what occurred last Solstice and Lucien was out for blood. Azriel wanted to show his teeth and beat Lucien into the ground simply for being a Vanserra. Everything about Lucien offended Azriel. The fact that he was granted a mate he ignored for years on end, content to do nothing while he figured himself out, or that he bounced from court to court with no show of loyalty irked Azriel. He wouldn’t abandon Rhys, even if the decision’s his brother made were outlandish and horrible. 

Deep down, though, Azriel knew he hated Lucien because they were the same—born to fathers that didn’t want them and to mothers who couldn’t help them. Azriel didn’t like Lucien, but he’d never thought himself better than the seventh son of Autumn. Lucien did, though. He had that air about him, as if his good breeding and status as a High Fae somehow made him better than everyone around him.

“You had no right to touch her,” Lucien snarled, stepping closer. They were matched for height, but not strength and Lucien had to know it. Don’t pick this fight, princling, Azriel warned silently, holding his ground. “No right to go anywhere near her.”

“Did she have the right to touch me?” Azriel heard himself saying. It was the wrong response—something powerful slammed into his chest, throwing Azriel down the drive before he could catch his breath. Lucien was on top of him a moment later, hitting him in the face. 

Once.

Twice.

Three times. 

It was like when he and Rhys sparred—the force rattled the bones in his jaw, punctuated with magic Azriel couldn’t just barely argue with. That didn’t mean he couldn’t get a lick in…though some part of him wondered if maybe he deserved this. After all, if a male had touched his mate, knowing she belonged to him…Azriel might have done the same.

He would have done worse.

“Lucien!” Feyre’s voice cut through the early morning air. A second later, the two were separated as Feyre blew Lucien across the lawn, her face both radiant and irate all at once. Rhys hung back, arms crossed over his chest in the doorway, expression ripe with amusement.

What did you do? Rhys’ voice ribboned through Azriel’s mind.

That bullshit with Elain during Solstice.

While Feyre chewed Lucien out, hands on her hips, Rhys threw his head back and laughed. Didn’t I tell you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel mumbled, ignoring the way his face ached as he pulled himself to his feet. Lucien looked as if he wanted a second round but Azriel was still a male and still had his pride. 

“That’s the only time I won’t hit you back, lordling,” Azriel snapped, ignoring how Feyre’s eyes narrowed. “Next time there’ll be nothing left for that mate of yours to kiss—”

“I’ll kill you—”

“That’s enough!” Feyre snapped, ending the pissing match before Azriel could have his second round. “There will be no killing of any kind!”

Azriel ducked his head as he made his way into the house, hoping he looked appropriately mollified. He certainly felt it. Rhys followed behind Azriel, a smile still dancing across his features.

“I could listen to her yell at him all day,” Rhys admitted, closing the door behind Azriel. “Music to my ears.”

“What’s his fucking problem?”

“Mating bond is riding him hard,” Rhys replied, sinking into his chair. “I need to get them out of this fucking house before I go insane.”

“They accepted here?” Azriel asked, surprised. 

“Feyre begged him to stay for just a week, unaware they were in the middle of the frenzy, and now its all I hear. Day and night, waking up Nyx, keeping me up when they drop their mental defenses…” Rhys’s expression was one of frustration. “I told Feyre to buy Elain a house just to get them out of my hair.”

“And you sent Cassian away,” Azriel mocked, dropping into the leather chair across from Rhys’s desk. “Perhaps you like Lucien better than us.”

“Cassian and Nesta would have burned this house to ash. You remember that mating ceremony, right?”

Azriel would never forget—the smell of Cassian’s arousal was forever lodged in the back of his throat. Azriel had spent a month up in Illyria while Cassian and Nesta made up for lost time, and even then sometimes he still heard them.

“I suppose you’ll be next?” Rhys questioned. Azriel hoped, certainly, though he hadn’t let himself think that far ahead. He shrugged, instead, deciding silence was the best course of action Rhys knew him well enough to guess what worried Azriel—that Gwyn was going to realize she could likely do better and then leave him.

He knew Rhys just as well as Rhys knew him. That had always been Rhys’s fear about Feyre, after all, even after she’d accepted the bond. Azriel wondered when it had changed for Rhys. When did he let himself believe she wanted him, and would remain, regardless of what she saw? 

Azriel didn’t ask. 

“I assume you didn’t come all this way to let Lucien hit you?” Rhys asked. This would be a joke for the next century, if not longer. 

Azriel scowled. “My magic. Where does it come from?”

Rhys arched his brow. “You know I don’t have the answer for that.”

“I think I do.”

Azriel dropped his mental defenses, trusting Rhys wouldn’t go digging for anything other than what Azriel pulled to the surface. It was a supreme act of trust between them—Azriel had guarded his secrets closely like a dragon hoarding gold. And though there was nothing Rhys couldn’t see, it was more that Azriel didn’t want him to. Rhys was allowed his secrets.

Azriel should be allowed his, too. 

Rhys did exactly as Azriel allowed, his presence dipping into Azriel’s mind to watch it all play out. Rhys withdrew a moment later and Azriel slammed the walls back up, ensuring every last stone was in place before truly looking at his brother.

“Well?”

Rhys steepled his fingers in front of his face, sighing deeply. “I’ve heard that voice in Elain Archeron’s head, too.”

Azriel’s blood ran cold. “And?”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. If your magic is derived from Koschei, it’s just that. Derived, but clearly not controlled.”

“We’re missing something,” Azriel murmured, though he didn’t know what. “I think I should return to Montessere.”

“We should,” Rhys amended softly, eyes cutting toward the closed door. “And soon. With Beron Vanserra gone, whatever deal he’d struck with their king should have died with him. Eris bought us a little time, though who knows how much. Did Gwyn ever manage to figure out what was going on?”

“No—a Day Court scholar stole her cipher and she’s been able to read the book she was translating without it.”

“She’s upstairs with the priestesses,” Rhys mused, rubbing his chin. “Both Helion and Eris are asking for her. I suppose I could negotiate for it…or you could simply steal it.”

Azriel’s shadows slithered around him, suddenly paying attention. 

“Find it,” he murmured, watching as they vanished into smoke. 

Rhys took a breath, waiting until they were truly alone. “Once you know where it is, get it back without making a fuss. I don’t want Eris claiming I harmed his mate any more than he already is. 

When we know what the book says, we can decide our next steps. We need to move quietly, though.”

“What are you thinking?”

“You get me through the door, and I rip open Gunnar’s head,” Rhys said with a relish. It was treason to suggest—could start a war if they were caught. Azriel didn’t care—diplomacy was Rhys’s job, at any rate—but he raised his brows all the same.

“And then what?”

Rhys shrugged. “His son is dead, his court in shambles…I’m sure the vipers are circling. A stroll through the palace will tell me who is sympathetic and who might be willing to sign a treaty agreeing to look elsewhere for their expansionist ambition, should it come to that.”

“It’s risky,” Azriel said, unable to suppress his grin.

“Sounds like fun to me,” Rhys replied, settling back in his chair. “Let me think it through a bit—give me a week. In the meantime, help Cassian with Illyria.”

“What’s going on in Illyria?”

Rhys gave Azriel the rundown of their latest project, speed running through a plan that had originally been meant to happen over the course of several decades. Nesta was human, and Emerie young, and he supposed to them, it was simply all too slow. He didn’t blame them for pushing for stronger measures, for wanting stricter punishments. Feyre, too, seemed frustrated by the lack of progress being made in the region and the loss of yet another generation of females while the males pretended to implement the changes they outwardly ignored. 

“Looking for resistance leaders?”

“And quickly,” Rhys agreed with a sly look on his face. “They’ve forgotten how it feels to go against us and I think a little reminder is in order.”

“Maybe it’s time,” Azriel murmured.

Rhys’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Say the word.”

“It would cause more problems than it would solve,” Azriel reminded Rhys, knowing damn well that Rhys didn’t care about problems when it came to his brothers. So what if the other nobles balked—let them see what happened if they refused the authority of the High Lord they were sworn to.

“Is there someone we could install in their place?” Rhys questioned.

“I could find out.”

“Do it.”

And that was that. Azriel spent the rest of his day with Feyre and Nyx, seated on the floor while the pair tried to convince the toddling baby to pick his favorite. Azriel cheated twice, pulling a piece of candy he’d swiped from Rhys’s desk to intice the child over while Feyre declared he was the absolute worst and she’d never forgive him. 

Azriel knew she would. She spent the afternoon fussing over his face and begging him to let her fix it before he went back upstairs, but Azriel had made peace with his wounds. This was his penance, besides. He’d gotten what was coming to him, he supposed.

Even if he stood by what he’d said all those months ago. He was glad Elain wasn’t his mate…but still thought Lucien was an unworthy male he could easily take in a fight if it ever came down to it. Besides, Azriel reasoned it might give Gwyn a reason to fuss over him, which he thought sounded rather nice.

He’d forgotten how violent she could be. Even with his head in her lap, wings draped around them, Gwyn explained in detail all the things she’d like to do to Lucien while scratching his scalp. Was this how cats felt? 

“We could psychologically torture him,” Gwyn said, still musing all the ways she could get him back.

“Oh? How would you do that?” he questioned.

“I’ll ask Nesta,” she decided, earning a chuckle. 

“She’d know.”

“Arina still has my cipher,” Gwyn informed him after a moment. Azriel opened his eyes to look up at her, finding her pretty face twisted in a frown. 

“I’ll find it,” he said, wondering if his shadows already had. They wouldn’t intrude while he was with her, and he couldn’t sense them nearby. It didn’t mean they weren’t—just that he couldn’t feel them. 

“And deny Nesta the opportunity of scaring it out of her?” Gwyn asked before her expression shifted. “Did you know Mor and Emerie were courting?”

It should have been a punch to the gut. Azriel waited for that familiar wave of hot jealousy to fill his throat like it used to. Every time he’d heard whispers of Mor being intimate with other people—males, usually—Azriel hadn’t been able to swallow it. Rhys had often taken him out to let him burn out his anger in the form of physical violence.

There was a beat. And then another. “Oh?” he finally heard himself say in a placid tone. He meant it, too. It was pleasant, that feeling. He only wished her well. 

“Surprised me, too,” Gwyn admitted after a moment. “But Emerie is the best.”

“She is,” Azriel agreed.

“And Mor is…nice?” she questioned.

“She is,” he promised, reaching for Gwyn’s free hand to press a kiss against the back of her skin. “You’ll like her.”

Gwyn hummed a non-committal sound as the pair lapsed into comfortable silence. Azriel had questions he didn’t dare ask her—not yet. Maybe not ever. He wanted to know if she was genuinely happy and if she had regrets. If she was accepting their bond out of obligation or because she wanted to. Cassian and Rhys knew their mates wanted them because humans didn’t have the concept—they had to decide on the merits of their feelings rather than the expectation of the bond. 

Gwyn had grown up as one of them—she knew what it meant to have a mate. And she’d accepted the whole thing so easily, so quickly, that Azriel caught himself second guessing everything at times. 

“Are you hungry?” Gwyn asked, reading Azriel’s mind. His heart raced at the thought—he knew what she was offering. Yes! The word nearly bubbled out of his throat, leashed only at the last minute.

“I am,” he replied, rising upward with what he hoped seemed sultry and not avoidant. He had her on her back in a moment, gazing up at him around a halo of reddish brown hair. “What are you offering.”

“I thought…” she breathed, but he was sliding her dress up over her thighs. That's it. Forget you offered, he thought silently. Pressing a kiss to her thigh, Azriel decided this was better, at least for now. Let her get used to it—they’d revisit accepting in a few years. Decades, maybe. 

It was easy to pretend it didn’t hurt him.

Mostly.

[pavus]

PROMPT : Deep Roads. DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION ERA. Words: 1304. Characters: Suri & Velrand Cadash.

“Surischa.”

Suri cringed at the sound of her elder brother’s voice – and his use of her full name. That had been unnecessary, and he knew it. His footsteps could be heavy enough to get her attention. He could’ve cleared his voice to announce himself to her and the Carta brutes that traveled with them. Instead, he chose to throw out the name only their mother used… and only ever when she was well and truly incensed. 

Only a few of those who traveled with them were from their family, but the others still parted like a pair of legs when Velrand approached. It was impossible not to. Her brother was twice as wide as she was, though he carried himself like he had the width and crushing power of a fucking golem.

“We need to move south,” he said, his low-bellied voice filling the underground chamber they’d stopped off in to fill their water skins and a few emptied barrels. Though he spoke directly to his sister and lieutenant, she could see the other dwarves absorbing his every word. You don’t get to miss shit when you’re doing Carta work, especially not when they’d already lost a few men to darkspawn infections on the way in.  “Getting too close to Aeducan Thaig for my liking.”

Their cousin Maris – the sniveling coward – bobbed his head hard enough for his mass of matted brown hair to give a limp bounce. He wasn’t the only one who nodded.

The men liked agreeing with Velrand.

“Alright,” Suri grunted. “Take his cock out of your mouth and give me your real answers.”

Velrand opened his mouth to protest, but she was already filling the silence, her voice raised from its usual sedate murmur so that it might reach the boys and girls in the back. “Now, you all know that we got word that there was an untapped vein in this direction. Respectable, believable, trustable word, along with a mark on our map.”

Going toe to toe with Velrand wasn’t often worth the trouble, but when else would she get the chance? If the plan went well enough, the men would bring home word that her big brother was too careful and lost them an opportunity. If it went tits up, she’d just continue being the disappointment.

Or, she’d be dead.

Either way.

“We’ve still got the miners.” The pair of lyrium miners raised up a warbling rallying cry. “And we’ve got a bunch of empty crates, too. What better way is there to please my mother than by bringing her back gold and lyrium?”

“If there’s anybody to bring the take back at all…”

No one ever talked back to Velrand.

Suri was tired of all the incessant walking after months of plodding with only the briefest of respite on the surface. Suri was tired of combat against spiders and deepstalkers and darkspawn and whatever else found them in the Deep. But she was never tired of fighting for the sake of fighting.

Pushing aside the two women who stood in her way, she made a beeline for the man who’d spoken. He was smaller than the others and younger by a few years, with barely an inch of ratty, ginger beard. She shoved him hard enough against the side of the carriage he stood next to to lift it up off of one of its well-worn wheels.

She knew it was Vodol ‘cause he was the only fucker down there with a lisp.

“Sounds like we shoulda left you on the Surface,” Suri spat, punching him to punctuate rather than wound. “How many of us had to haul your sorry ass out of the Rose before we could get back on the road? And you knew it was Coterie grounds!”

The crowd’s approval pivoted, paused, then surged in her direction.

“He wasn’t the only one, either!” “Aye! Half a dozen of you bastards dove in the second we hit Kirkwall!” “Better to wet your wick in Orzammar than burying it in some elf!”

A grin smeared itself over her mouth.

“We’re only a few days out from the mark!” Suri reared back and shouted. She didn’t have a voice dripping in old dwarven gravitas like her brother, but she could make her words carry. Didn’t matter, either way. The crowd had turned, and she was just as much of a Cadash as Velrand. “What’s a few days when we’ll all be drowning in gold!”

– 

Days later, those words were still echoing in her head, along with the sound of dwarven weapons clashing against the rusted and violent edges of darkspawn blades. Days later, numbers halved, and with crates of lyrium weighing down a carriage drawn by one bronto instead of two, her brother looked at her as if she was a petulant child rather than a fallible grown woman. They walked in silence on the roads back to Orzammar, knowing that the cost had been too high, knowing that it was her fault.

Vodol was dead, as were the miners, as were twenty others. Some of them had been kin. Some of them had been strangers turned compatriots turned friends. Some of them died without her even knowing their name.

She had a wound that made walking, thinking, or breathing difficult, but it’d been a fellow Carta’s dagger that clipped her in the jaw rather than a darkspawn’s blade or a swipe of their claws. She would be fine, but she found no comfort in that fact. Not with Velrand looking at her like that, not with all of them looking at her like that.

“You have to go,” her brother muttered to her and her alone, no more than a few hours before they reached Orzammar. “Mother is going to kill you when she finds out what you did here.”

Suri pressed her lips together. The pressure sent an ache into her bandaged jaw.

“And who’s gonna tell her?”

“I will.”

Her heart broke. A crack formed right down the middle of it that she wasn’t sure would ever mend. Hearing the solid surety in Velrand’s voice, knowing he’d been deliberating on whether or not to expose her since their brush with the darkspawn, she couldn’t help but feel herself taking on too much water. She was drowning, but her eyes were dry.

“Oh.”

Velrand cleared his throat. It was the gentlest sound she’d ever heard him make.

“If… If you leave now, before we get home, I will figure something out,” he said. Velrand, who never spoke against their mother or their father. Velrand, who acted with an excess of caution. Velrand, who had not dissented, despite her lifting her voice in opposition of his plans. He reached out a hand, a future. “I will find a way to get you out.”

There were only a few ways to leave the Carta.

She hadn’t realized her big brother was one of them, just as she hadn’t realized until that exact moment just how badly she wanted to be let loose.

Suri nodded.

“I have heard mother speaking to the other families about an Enclave that is happening on the surface in the next few months,” Velrand continued, still as quiet as before. No one overheard them. No one bothered trying to. They were as defeated as she was, and she was at fault for the state of them. “It’s all templar nonsense. Might be a lucrative business opportunity.”

“Wouldn’t know one,” Suri said before spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground beneath her boots. “But I’ll trust you.”

He rested a broad hand on her shoulder.

“Everyone learns,” was the last advice Velrand offered to her. His voice was warm and laid heavy in her ears, on her chest. “I can only hope that you do before you have to watch more people die.”

[unfinishedslurs]

welcome to eden

this is a love letter. inspired by this song

As soon as Steve picks up the phone, she knows she’s making a mistake.

“Rob?”

“No,” she says instead of hanging up like she should. 

“Nancy?” He sounds more alert now, and she can picture him standing up straighter, calling to attention at the sound of her voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“Not really,” she sniffs, hating herself for it. “I—can we talk?”

He’ll say no. He’ll say no, because it’s one in the morning and he was probably asleep before the phone rang and she shouldn’t be asking to talk years after she broke his heart and didn’t even remember—

“Of course,” he says, and Nancy could kick herself. “Over the phone?”

“No. Not over the phone. I’m sorry, it can wait, you can go back to bed.”

She hears him huff a laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. “I wasn’t in bed,” he assures her. “Am I picking you up?”

Tears spring anew to her eyes. “If that’s okay.”

“Works for me,” he says. “See you soon.”

“See you,” she echoes, and hangs up. 

She spends the time it takes pacing quietly in front of the front door, berating herself for using him like this. But she needs to talk to him, and the sooner it’s over with the better. 

Headlights cut through the window way too soon, and she nearly throws herself out the door. 

She gives him a look when she opens the car door, telling him she knows how many traffic laws he must have broken to get here this quick. He just grins in return, ready to point out the felony in her closet. 

“Where are we going?” He asks, and her heart clenches. He’s so good. He’s so good, and she couldn’t-can’t love him like he wants. She has to tell him. 

Tonight probably wasn’t the best night for this conversation, but her skin feels like it’s peeling off and the faster she says something the quicker it will be over with and she can go back to how it was before. Back when she didn’t have anyone to talk to, because Robin might never speak to her again after she breaks her best friend's heart for the second time. 

Just rip the bandaid off, Nance. 

“I don’t know,” she says instead. Maybe she’s a coward. “A field? Somewhere I can see the stars.”

“I can do that.”

The drive goes by in silence, Nancy staring stubbornly out the window. She can feel Steve periodically checking on her, and she knows he wants to know why she called. She can’t open her mouth to say it in the suffocating enclosure of the car. She rolls down a window. 

They get to a field almost out of Hawkins, and the car is barely in park before she’s climbing out, going around to sit on the hood. Steve cuts the engine and follows. 

She still doesn’t say anything. She called him to have a talk, why can’t she just open her stupid mouth—

“Nancy?” Steve asks, gentle in a way that used to make her melt. She pulls her legs to her chest, feeling vulnerable. “What’s wrong?”

“Jonathan and I broke up,” she finally gets out. 

“Oh shit.” He looks genuinely surprised. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it was never going to be forever.” Except she’d thought otherwise. She thought they were Nancy and Jonathan, the two of them against the world. She hunches her shoulders. “We never talk anymore, and he was pulling away from me, and he was lying to me for months-“ she shakes her head, clearing the anger she feels at that. “It doesn’t matter. I’m starting to realize there’s things I need to work on, too. A lot to work on, actually.”

“I don’t know what that could be,” he says, flashing her a smile filled with boyish, roguish charm. “You’re already the best person I know.”

She sniffs, and suddenly she’s crying into her knees, shoulders shaking. He freezes beside her, before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leans in for a second, chasing the comfort, before remembering what she came here to do and ripping away violently. 

“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t—I can’t—this isn’t what I—“

“Hey,” he soothes. “Slow down. Let it out.”

She wipes her eyes, suddenly furious. “I don’t want to date you,” she says, finally looking him in the eyes. “I don’t—I’m sorry for calling you. I just remembered how much better you used to make me feel, but then I realized that’s like…really shitty of me.”

“Why?” He asks, as if Nancy didn’t come out here to break his heart again. “I want to make you feel better. I like knowing I can make you feel better.”

“I don’t want to lead you on,” she says, mouth screwing up. “That’s why I called you out here. And I know it’s shitty of me—“

“Nancy, you’re not leading me on. I…I don’t want to date you either.”

That stops her in her tracks. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he echoes quietly. “I—don’t take this the wrong way, okay, ‘cause I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole saying it, but, uh, I can’t do that again. And even outside of that, I don’t like you that way anymore. Uh, sorry.”

She tries not to sag at the overwhelming relief she feels at that. 

“Are you sure?” She studies him closely, trying to see if he’s saying this for her sake or if he means it. “Back in the Upside-Down, and when we were fighting Venca, it seemed…”

He grimaces, and Nancy thinks if it wasn’t dark she’d see the beginning of an embarrassed flush on his ears. “I…may have been feeling things,” he admits. “I was testing the waters, I guess. I started feeling nostalgic, and you were there, and everyone was encouraging me, and it all just ended up in this weird…feelings soup. Sorry.”

“You said you wanted to have six kids with me,” Nancy reminds him. “And travel the country in a Winnebago.”

He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I am,” he says, “so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That had to be so weird for you.”

“It was kind of sweet?” She tries, not letting her relief show. Not yet. 

“We haven’t been together in years, and I decided to tell you I used to dream about you having my babies. How do you deal with me?”

“Well it helps to know you were dropped on your head. Puts everything in perspective.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up.” He looks at her, really looks at her, and she tries not to fidget under his gaze. Too earnest, too caring for someone who doesn’t deserve it. He’s always tried so hard. To woo her, to be a better person, to keep back the vicious streak she still sees in him. “I meant it, when I said I loved you,” he tells her gently, no sign of that cruelty that had him painting her as a whore for the whole town to see. “Back then, I mean. I just wanted you to know that.”

She wants to cry. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”

“It’s okay,” he says like he means it. He leans back against the windshield, looking at the sky. After a moment, she copies him. 

They watch the stars together, and the air feels clearer. 

“Where do we go from here?” She asks, afraid of the answer. 

“What do you mean?”

“What happens with us now?”

“Well,” he says gingerly, like he’s testing the waters. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend.”

Friends. She doesn’t know that she and Steve have ever been friends, not properly. Even after the apologies they made to each other, she doesn’t know that she could call what they had friendship. It wasn’t substantial on its own, needing Jonathan as the barrier between them. When it fell, so did they. 

“I haven’t had a friend in a while,” she admits. “Robin is kind of a novelty for me. She’s amazing.”

It’s funny, in a way. She was so jealous of Robin, of how close she was with Steve in a way Nancy wasn’t. She’d thought, at first, that it was because they were so clearly dating. After Robin told her they weren’t, she realized how badly she’d just wanted friends. She missed hanging out with Steve, missed his laugh and his squint and his bitchy attitude. She’d hoped that eventually they’d get to that point, was sure they were almost there before Starcourt. In a way, she’d been jealous of Robin for stealing Steve. She knew it was ridiculous. Steve had found a friend, a real friend who hadn’t cheated on him or slept with his girlfriend. She couldn’t begrudge him that. 

She just missed him. 

“She is, isn’t she?” Steve grins, but sobers up quickly. “I didn’t really think about that. How lonely you must be, since…”

She’s already shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t reach out.” 

“I didn’t exactly reach out either.”

They fall silent again, at a loss for words. Barb’s death, as always, the canyon between them. 

Finally Nancy huffs. “It’s both of our faults,” she declares, “or neither of our faults. I don’t know. I just missed you.”

“Well shit, Nance, I missed you too,” he says, touched. 

“I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend too, you know,” she says, glancing at him. He smiles. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Nancy Wheeler, I would be honored to be friends with you,” he says, and sticks out his hand to shake, like they’re meeting for the first time. 

She stares at him, and starts laughing. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

She shakes his hand. 

Max has always felt like a mirror. One Nancy wanted to smash, pull her out of the shards of her reflective grief and hug. Stroke her hair the way she wanted someone to do for her and say you’ll get through this. So Max could hear it from someone who knows. 

Except Nancy doesn’t know anything. Still drowns in her guilt, the ball and chain dragging her into the depths. She can’t help when she’s still such a mess, three years later. 

Her hands clench when Mike says Max is pulling away from Lucas. She wishes she could look her in the eye and tell her you don’t have to be me. You can be better. 

She’s Mike’s friend. They barely know each other outside of a quick hello as they cross paths or fighting monsters. Max has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need her friend’s weird older sister butting in to tell her how to mourn the right way. 

Nancy just hopes she’s getting out of bed. Remembering to eat. Brushing her teeth. She had more cavities in the year after Barb died than she’d ever had in her life, and she knows Max doesn’t have insurance. 

Now, sitting next to Max’s hospital bed, Nancy wishes she’d reached out. 

With school back comes studying, and with studying comes Eddie Munson, in all his super-senior glory. Nancy is going to get him a diploma if it kills her. 

He laughs when she tells him so. “Shit, Wheeler,” he says. “The day something manages to get you is the day this shithole goes down for good.”

Robin turns down her offer to form a study group. “I’m pretty sure if I joined, I’d just distract Eddie, and let him distract me, and we’d end up throwing things at each other until you killed us. Sorry. Steve’s going to help me study for finals, though!”

She looks at Steve, eyebrow raised. She’s pretty sure it’s fair to be dubious, since she was the reason Steve passed his finals in the first place. 

“I’m her rubber duck,” he says as an explanation, and she nods in understanding. 

Her mom isn’t about to let her study alone with a boy in her room, though, and especially not a boy like Eddie, so she drags him to the library three times a week. He complains, he bitches, he tells her he doesn’t care about his fucking history class anymore. She just hands him a Rubik’s Cube she found to keep his hands busy as she quizzes him. 

Three sessions in, he slowly puts a worksheet down and screams into his hands. 

“Stop that!” She kicks him in the shin. “If you get me kicked out of the library I’m never forgiving you.”

“I can’t do it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking stupid, Nancy. I can’t even get past question two. Is this torture? Did I die and go to hell? That would be fitting, wouldn’t it? Doomed to repeat high school for the rest of eternity?”

“Stupid” her ass. She knows what kind of work goes into those campaigns of his, has absently flipped through his annotated fantasy novels and left feeling as if she’d seen the story anew. Plus, she went and made a tape of everyone’s favorite songs, just in case, and she knew damn well how quickly he’d taught himself to play the song he did in the Upside-Down. “Stupid” and “Eddie Munson” don’t belong in the same sentence, much less belong in the same space in his brain. She hates Hawkins High just a little bit more for it. “Stop being dramatic. What are you stuck on?”

“Fucking nothing! I can’t focus, it’s driving me fucking insane. I keep trying, I swear, but it’s like I can’t even read anymore! This always happens, I swear to God it’s killing me more than the fucking demobats ever did.”

“Don’t joke about that,” she snaps. “You’re smart, Eddie, you know that. You just need to try.”

His face twists, and she realizes that was the wrong thing to say. 

“Oh, thank you, Miss Wheeler, why haven’t I thought of that? Sorry for wasting your time, I’ll get out of your perfect hair now—“

“Sit down,” she protests as he gathers up his stuff. “Eddie, I’ll help you work through the problem, okay? Just sit down, please.”

“No, Nancy!” He swings around, eyes wild. “It’s what everyone always says. Just sit still, stop doodling, be quiet, pay attention, try fucking harder…I tried, okay! I’ve been trying, I tried for fifteen fucking years, and I can’t do it! I might as well just drop out and get it over with. I’m fucking sick of this.”

“Okay!” She feels herself getting riled up. “You want to fail so bad, fine! I’m not your keeper, do whatever you want.”

“I will!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

They stare at each other, not moving. Finally Eddie storms off in a huff, flinging open the library door in a grand gesture she pretends not to see. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she can ignore it. 

She pretends not to notice when he comes slinking back five minutes later, shuffling his feet. 

“Sorry.”

“For what?” She asks primly, going over her notes. 

“Nancy, please.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry too. I’m just…frustrated.”

“I’ve been told I’m pretty frustrating,” he offers. 

“It’s not…”

“It is,” he says, sitting down. “It’s okay. God knows I piss myself off with this shit.”

She studies him, looking over his defeated face like he’s one of her flashcards. “You’re trying your best,” she says, sounding it out. She can’t really make sense of it. After all, trying her best has always been straight A’s, not stopping until she knew everything she needed to and more. 

“It’s not good enough.”

“It will be,” she says. “You’ve got me this time.”

“Listen, I know you’re trying to help—“

“Do you want fries?”

“What?” He blinks at her, shocked, as she starts packing up her things.  

“We’re not getting anywhere today. Sometimes you have to step back, and come back with a clearer head.” Usually she locks her door and cleans her guns, the repetitive motion soothing her mind until she can think again, but she has a feeling that won’t work for Eddie. 

“I usually just give up.”

“I don’t. Get your backpack, we’re going to the diner. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

At the diner, he makes her laugh so hard soda comes out her nose. The next day, they go to the library again. 

After a couple of days, he solves the cube. After three weeks, he nearly kicks her door down rushing to show her the B he got on a test. 

Two months later, he throws his cap into the air and his cane on the ground. Swings her around, both of them laughing. 

“Nancy fucking Wheeler!” He crows. “Achieving the impossible yet again!”

“Eddie, put me down!” She shrieks gleefully as he stumbles. She barely makes it back to solid ground before two more bodies are slamming into them, Steve and Robin whooping in their ears. 

It was weird, to see Steve and Robin effortlessly communicate the way she and Jonathan always had and have it be so unabashedly unromantic. She’d always thought that knowing someone like that was a sign you were meant to be, and they did it while still loudly proclaiming Platonic with a capital P. 

She and Jonathan didn’t do it much anymore. It was like dancing to a song that was always a beat off, syncing for just one moment before stumbling again, unsure that they were still allowed this. 

She’d known him better than anyone, once, and he’d known her the same. Now she wonders if that was ever true. 

“So,” Eddie says, throwing himself onto her bed. “Steve.”

She sits in her desk chair, raising an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“You broke up with Jonathan, right? Are you going to get back with him? I thought you would, but it's been months and neither of you said anything.”

“No,” she says. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s not what either of us want.”

“Really?” He rolls over, eyes searching. “What happened there, anyway? With both your boys. I’m a nosy little asshole, and I wanna hear it from you.”

It makes her laugh, the way he admits to it so freely. He grins wolfishly at her, baring his teeth in a grin. That’s probably why she tells him the truth. 

“I wasn’t okay, when I was with Steve,” she says honestly. “I was distant, grieving…I was a mess, and I stayed with him because I didn’t know what else to do. With Jonathan…I was getting closure, I was healing, and things were good between us. They were so good, but after a while, we just started to…deteriorate. I don’t know if we lost momentum, or if the stress just got to us, but we started fighting more and more,” She traces the desk with a finger, remembering the sour taste of Oliver Twist on her tongue. It was a shitty thing to say. “I thought we’d figured it out, for a little while, but then we just…stopped talking. I think, maybe if we’d talked more, we could have worked it out. But I’m…not upset that we didn’t, you know?”

It’s a different kind of loneliness when your partner won’t talk to you. It was different than grieving, different than not having anyone to talk to at all. Because even when she didn’t have friends, she had Jonathan. And then, slowly, she didn’t anymore. 

“Nancy, you’re one of my best friends, so-”

“Steve is your best friend.”

“Steve is my best best friend,” she agrees. “But he’s also more than that? Like, I think we’re literally soulmates. Platonic with a capital P soulmates, but, like, it feels like more than friendship sometimes? Like sometimes it’s like he can literally feel my bad days even when I haven’t talked to him yet. He told me once he just knows sometimes. It’s like I hit my hip on my desk and he felt it, but emotionally. It’s wild. It’s like the drugs literally combined our minds. Where was I going with this?”

“I don’t know,” she says, slightly bewildered. She wants to ask how they do that, but Robin barrels forward. 

“Right. So outside of mine and Steve’s platonic more-than-friendship, you’re kind of my best friend? And you’re, like, the coolest person I know.”

She blinks. She’s not sure she’s ever been described as cool before. 

After Barb, Nancy tried to cut her own hair. 

Her mom found her in the bathroom, unshed tears in her eyes and hair a mess on the sink and floor. 

She hadn’t laughed, hadn't said oh, honey, your beautiful hair. Just clucked her tongue and took the scissors from her hands. Stepped behind her and took over, took the uneven mess and made it something good, something presentable. 

She didn’t say anything until she was done, setting the scissors on the counter. “Sometimes,” she said, wetting her lips. “Sometimes we need a change, before we can move forward.”

The closer she gets to Emerson, the more she feels like she’s letting someone down. Mike. Max. Jonathan. All the people who have relied on her, all the people who trusted her to fight.

In a strange turn of events, her mom is the only one she doesn’t feel is disappointed in her. Her mom is more excited about college than she is sometimes. Chattering excitedly over dishes about the classes she’s going to take as Nancy dries and smiles and tries not to feel like the ground is being pulled from under her feet.

This is everything she’s ever wanted. Why does it feel so wrong?

She takes Eddie to the gun range, because having a gun in her hands has always made her feel safer. More in control. More like the badass protector she wants to be, than the scared little girl she feels sometimes. 

Eddie stares down the scope of the gun and shoots like he has experience, but doesn’t hit a single bullseye. 

“Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m in a fucking gun range and a bunch of small town hicks were hunting me not too long ago,” he snaps, taking another shot and missing the target completely. He swears and changes the magazine. “Excuse me if I’m a little bit on edge.” 

She hadn’t really thought of it like that. “You didn’t have to come,” she says. “I just thought with everything that’s happened, you should know how to use one. Just in case.”

“I know how to use a gun,” he rolls his eyes. 

“You know how to shoot one.” She looks from him to the target pointedly. “Not the same thing.”

“Deep. I could really feel the judgement there. Tell me, is there anything else wrong with me?”

“There’s security cameras all over this place. We’re not in Hawkins, so there’s no mob coming after you. I’m here, and I do know how to use a gun. No one is going to hurt you here.”

“I know all that.”

“Do you?”

He scowls at her. She looks back unflinchingly. She’s been here plenty of times, and the guys laughed at her until they didn’t anymore. By the time she brought Eddie, all she got was a raised eyebrow and a “boyfriend?” from Hunter at the desk. She didn’t know what was more incriminating, so she just shrugged. 

“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?”

She rolls her eyes, taking the gun from his hands and lining up a shot. “I’ve heard worse,” she says, thinking about Nancy Dre-ew, and Nancy “the slut” Wheeler, and priss, and shoots. It hits the bullseye. 

So do her next five shots. 

Eddie looks begrudgingly impressed when she reloads and hands the gun back to him. It’s more satisfying than it should be, to realize that while he’d known she had guns he’s never seen her actually shoot before. 

She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and he huffs around a smile. “All right, all right,” he says good naturedly. “Let’s try this again.”

He does a little better this time around, now that he’s actually trying. He does a little dance when he hits one of the inner rings. 

“Take that!” He crows. “I bet Steve couldn’t do this. In your face, Harrington!”

“He’s much more of a close-combat kind of guy, isn’t he?” Nancy agrees. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says. “Does he really have a bat with nails?”

She blinks, caught off guard by the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen it. She never registered that he hadn’t used it during Vecna. Something about the fact seems weird somehow, as if it was as integral to Steve as his coiffed hair. “He keeps it in his trunk.”

“You and Byers need to update your Steve manuals. He said it’s under his bed now.”

“Ah,” Nancy says, thinking of all the times she’s slept with her pistol under her pillow. Empty, because she’s not stupid enough to sleep with a loaded gun when her little brother sometimes wakes her up after a nightmare, but the comforting weight of it alone makes it easier. 

“Just tell me one thing,” he says, widening his eyes imploringly at her. “Did he look as sexy as I think he did? Byers won’t give me a straight answer.”

It’s a joke, but his cheeks are a little pink. She’s not dumb, she’s seen the looks the two of them share, as if he and Steve were circling each other. Caught in a whirlpool, waiting for the moment the vortex would drag them down and they could finally touch. 

The looks between Eddie and Jonathan, too, that share a certain camaraderie she doesn’t entirely understand and at the same time understands all too well. Steve and Jonathan had always had a strange relationship, too close to not be friendship but not quite there. Surprisingly enough it was better after she and Steve broke up, Jonathan no longer avoiding them and the talk she’d forced the three of them into clearing the air. Sometimes, she’d wake up to Jonathan climbing into her bed, smelling of cigarettes and a hint of something stronger, and he’d tell her it was Steve who drove him there. 

She’s a journalist. It’s her job to notice things. She just wasn’t ready to confront that reality, where the two boys she’d wanted wanted each other as well. But she’s grown since then. 

She also knows that whoever Steve chooses, it won’t be easy. 

“You know,” she says, considering, “when we were dating, Steve never pressed me up against the wall or anything you’d expect from the King.”

Eddie gets this look on his face, caught between confusion and caught out. “…okay? Did you want him to do that or something? Are you trying to ask me to hint to him?”

“No,” she says. “I’m just saying, he never did any of that. It was kind of funny. He always made it so that he was the one pressed against the wall.”

Eddie misses the next five shots entirely, and she laughs at him through it all.

She’s hyper aware of touching other girls now. She didn’t used to be. Even with Robin, who is a lesbian and definitely won’t hate her. Who’s probably gone through the same thing. She can’t help it. 

What if they get the wrong idea? What if someone else sees? What if they can tell, what if they know, what if they hate me?

She hates feeling like this. She doesn’t know why it started, doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s no stranger to casual affection—or at least she didn’t used to be. Why does it make her feel so tense now? It’s been years since she realized she liked girls, shouldn’t this have happened back then?

Deep down, she knows why. The Reagan sign in her front yard. Her dad sitting in his chair, the news always on. “Always that nasty disease, Karen, I swear some people are just asking for it.” She’s always known she could never tell him, but now she knows that if she gets sick he’ll say she deserves it. She doesn’t know what her mother thinks. She’s afraid to find out. 

She’s growing up, and her fear is growing with her. 

Objectively, Nancy knows she and Eddie don’t make sense. 

They’re not cut from the same cloth, like Steve and Robin. They don’t calm each other down, like Jonathan and Argyle. They’re too different, too alike in all the wrong ways, for them to get along. They’re both snappy, a little mean. Eddie’s dramatic enough to get on her nerves, and she’s prim enough to get on his. At their worst, they have earth shattering arguments that end in them not speaking to each other for days. 

When people see them walking down the street together, they whisper about “that nice girl Nancy Wheeler” and “that awful Munson boy.”

It’s not fair, never has been. Nancy hasn’t felt nice for a long time, maybe before Barb ever disappeared. Eddie isn’t always particularly nice either, but the court of public opinion takes it to extremes, twists him into something cruel instead of the kindness he carries under his leather armor. Someone to keep their children away from. It really is a shame, because Eddie loves kids in a way Nancy never has. She can see it in the way he interacts with them, his bright smile fading when a parent comes to drag them away. Even when he’s expecting it, his face falls, just for an instant, before spinning around with a grin that won’t reach his eyes. 

Nancy wants to take him out of here. There’s an offer on the tip of her tongue that she knows he’d refuse.

He’s not her brother, but he’s not…unlike one. It’s almost like talking to an older, flashier Mike. He’s annoying, is what he is. He picks at her, keeps pressing over the littlest things. Tries to get under her skin, succeeds, until she’s on the verge of stabbing him with her pencil. Looks triumphant whenever Robin has to grab her arm to drag her away, rambling an excuse about “some girl thing I totally forgot, yeah it’s an emergency,” while Steve drags him the other way to have bro time. 

“She loves it,” she’d heard Eddie crow delightedly once, when Robin didn’t get her out of hearing range fast enough. “Do you see that fire in her eyes?”

“Do I?” She asked Robin. “Love it?”

“I mean, far be it from me to tell you what you do and don’t like,” Robin answered. “But, uh, as far as I can tell, you totally love it. You look like you’re going to rip him to pieces and enjoy it, and he loves that. I didn’t think you’d be this much of a nightmare together, seriously, like, how are you two at each other’s throats one second and then best friends the next? Steve and I have debated locking you in a bathroom until you get along, but we’re kind of afraid you’ll kill each other.”

So no, Nancy and Eddie don’t get along. They’re kind of a nightmare together. They don’t make sense, and they don’t try to. They have other friends, who they get along with better, that they can seek out. 

But when Eddie knocks on her window, the only surprise is that he could even get there. 

“How?” She hisses, opening the window. He tumbles in, doesn’t even try to play off the utter gracelessness he’s displaying. 

“Wowie, I am never doing that again,” he breathes, flat on his back. “You’re going to have to help me down the stairs when I leave, had to leave my cane at the bottom and I cannot get back down that way.”

She doesn’t even want to know what he had to do to get up on her roof with his bad leg. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m but another lover, nothing but an ant in the face of your unwavering beauty, my queen,” he says, batting his eyes at her. The dramatics don’t hit the way he intends, given that he’s stuck on the floor. He holds a hand out pleadingly, and she rolls her eyes, hauling him up until she can get him to her bed. 

“Never mind.” She puts her hands on her hips, a gesture that is so obviously Steve she removes them immediately. From the glint in Eddie’s eyes, he notices.

She tries not to be jealous. She tries, she swears, but…

Three of the four (five? she doesn’t know what Argyle thinks of her) friends she has are dating each other. Two of them dated her, first. She can’t help but wonder, if she’d known that was an option, if everything would have been different. If she wouldn’t have this aching bitterness between her teeth. 

(Nothing would have changed, she knows. She’d been too desperate for other things. Trying so hard with Steve so her best friend didn’t die for nothing. Staying with Jonathan because he understood her more than anyone else, so maybe they didn’t need to talk. It wouldn’t have helped anything. She still wonders.)

It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past, and she needs to move forward. She can’t stop to think about could-have-beens, because thinking about boys is what got her into this mess in the first place. 

She closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath. That’s not fair. None of this is fair. None of it is fucking fair because Nancy stopped caring about fair when Barb died. 

She needs a drink. She needs a nap. She needs to stop feeling like Atlas with the world on her shoulders. 

She doesn’t do any of that. She calls Robin.

“Barb was my first kiss.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says, and keeps talking, because Barb is dead and Robin is a lesbian and she’s long forgotten what Barb’s favorite chapstick was back then. “We were seven, and I liked it but I didn’t know if I liked her. But I was convinced I was going to marry her, until my mom told me that girls don’t marry other girls. And I knew she liked girls when she died. She told me when we were fifteen, and I didn’t know the word bisexual but I knew I loved her and that was all that mattered. Not—not like that, not romantic, or maybe it was but it doesn’t matter because she was my best friend and I still love her but she’s gone forever. I loved her.”

She feels Robin lay a tentative hand on her back. 

“I had to look her parents in the eye and pretend. All those fucking NDA’s, I had to pretend there was hope. Pretend she was still missing. It was like everyone forgot about her except for me and them, and they sold their house to find their dead daughter and I wasn’t supposed to say anything and Steve kept reminding me about the fucking NDA’s—“

 “Nancy…”

“It’s my fault,” Nancy says, staring at the water. “I lumped in Steve, because it was easier than being alone. He didn’t know her like I did. She was worried about me. She stayed because she cared, and look where that got her.”

“That’s bullshit!” Robin’s eyes are wide, and she waves her hands around as she talks. “If it’s anyones fault, it’s those—those scientist guys experimenting on El! They knew there was a problem, and they tried to cover it up instead of making sure people were safe. You didn’t know it was dangerous. How were you supposed to know it was going to end up as anything other than normal teenage drama? None of this is supposed to be real, you didn’t know—“

“But I left her,” Nancy cuts in. “I left her alone to go lose my virginity to a boy she didn’t even like—“

“He was your boyfriend, it shouldn’t have mattered if she liked him—“

“It doesn’t matter!” Nancy shouts, and Robin falls silent, mouth still moving. “It doesn’t fucking matter how it happened, because it did and now she’s dead and she’s never coming back and it’s all my fault.”

Nancy is sick of crying. Sick of feeling helpless. Sick of not being able to change the past. 

“It’s not just Barb. I took Fred to the trailer park—he didn’t even want to be there, and now he’s dead. Eddie needs a cane, Max is almost completely blind and might never walk again and it was my plan that put them there. My plan that almost killed them. I’m responsible—“

“Fuck that.”

“Robin…”

“No, you listen to me, Nancy Wheeler,” Robin says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. Max would have died without that plan. We all would have died. Venca-slash-Henry-slash-One would have won without that plan, and I am not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for saving lives. And-and Fred! Venca had already marked him, you know that. You couldn’t have done anything! And Barb is not your fault, okay? I-I-I know I can’t convince you, but I’ll say it as many times as it takes until you start believing it, because it’s true. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t kill anyone.”

“I killed Bruce,” she says, just to prove Robin wrong. And isn’t that shitty of her, to forget about him until she can use him to prove a point? She’s a fucking awful person.

“I don’t know who Bruce is, but given your track record I highly doubt that.”

“I bashed his head in with a fire extinguisher.”

Robin pauses, and Nancy’s stomach sinks. This is it, she thinks. This is what will convince her, this is what will make her see that I’m wrong, that I’m poison-

“What was he doing?”

“What?”

“Bruce. You had to have a reason for it. What was he doing?”

It’s like Robin doesn’t even care that Nancy just admitted to first degree murder. “He was flayed,” she admits, knowing Robin will take it as proof that she’s right.

“That’s not murder, that’s self defense,” Robin says, just like she knew she would. “Also, if he was flayed he was already dead. Sorry, I’m sticking to your side on this.”

“But I’m less torn up about killing my asshole coworker than I am about anything else. How does that not make me a monster?”

“He was already dead, Nancy!” Robin shakes her. “You’re not beating yourself up over it because you know he was already dead, a-a-and I know you’re using him to try and push me away and I won’t let you.”

“Robin…” she says, tears springing to her eyes. She’s so fucking sick of crying. So sick of the way she never seems to stop anymore. 

“Nancy,” Robin says. “None of us are going to leave you. Stop trying to make us.”

She pulls her into a hug, and Nancy sags into it, boneless. 

There, sandwiched between the sky and the water, Nancy starts to feel like she could forgive herself. 

“Nancy,” Steve says, putting a hand on her shoulder and ducking his chin to look her in the eye. “They won’t be alone.”

Tears well up, unbidden, at the way he seems to understand her now in a way he never did before. 

“I want this,” she insists. 

“I know you do,” he says. “Which is why you’re going to go out there, kick ass, and take names. We’ll be here, okay? We’ll keep an eye on them.”

“I know you will.” She swipes a hand across her eyes. “Can you talk to Holly, too? She gets lonely.”

Steve smiles. He’d always loved Holly, when they were dating. He used to braid her hair sometimes. Asked her about her drawings, her TV shows, listened to her talk with the same attentiveness Nancy’s father had never shown any of them. He’ll be a good dad, someday. To someone else’s children.

“I’ll talk to Holly,” he promises. “Does she still like princesses?”

“Ladybugs,” she says. “It’s ladybugs, now.”

“Ladybugs. I can do that. Black and red, and they’re all ladies. What’s not to like?”

“There are male ladybugs.”

“Wait, seriously?”

She laughs, tearfully, but they’re happy tears. Steve wipes them away gently, and she smiles at him to let him know she’s okay. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

“You’re the best person I know, Nancy Wheeler,” he replies, achingly sincere. “You’re gonna have the whole world under your thumb, I just know it. Ever thought of running for President?”

“Can’t be worse than the one we have now,” she says, grimaces as her own joke lands too bitterly to be funny. She sees his jaw tighten before he forces himself to relax. 

“I’d vote for you.”

She grins at him, sharp to punch through the tension she’d made. “I’ll make Eddie my Vice President.”

“Oh, fuck no. You lost me,” he says, and Eddie makes an offended noise from where he’s stealing snacks from the glovebox. Jonathan swats him, and she smiles at him too. He smiles back, tentatively, and wanders to her side. 

“You gonna be okay up there?” He asks quietly. She can hear the guilt in it, still, and she reaches down to squeeze his hand. The one with the scar that matches hers, so their palms line up. It feels full circle, somehow, the three of them together like this. 

“I’ll be okay,” she confirms, and feels the truth of it in her chest. Her boys are here with her, the ones who have been there since the beginning. Eddie’s watching them fondly, munching on a granola bar. Robin is inside somewhere, rambling at her mother. Mike and Holly are probably still bickering over the last cupcake. She loves them so much, all of them. 

“Of course you will,” Steve says. “You’re Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler. Nothing stops you.”

She wants that to be true. She can feel in her bones that it will be. Eighteen has nothing on who she’ll be at thirty. 

She’s Nancy Wheeler, and the world won’t see her coming. 

[endofradio]

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 7: TREASON

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6

WARNINGS: gore mentions

NOTES: i lowkey locked in with this chapter WHY IS IT SO LONG. i also decided to spice things up a bit by having sylvie talk to abigail instead of joey doing it (when abigail says that frank is valdez). i am VERY excited to write the scene where abigail exposes everybody because the drama is going to be REAL.

SUMMARY: now that everyone’s locked inside, sylvie decides to make the decision to talk to abigail herself, something that she regrets. after rickles dies next, sylvie confronts frank, which only leaves her feeling more confused and frightened than she already is.

WORD COUNT: 3,290

TAGLIST: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast @evildarliing @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @13th-floor-in-moonstone @vampireheist @xashleyo03x @blackwolfstabs @atcarpenter

shoot me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglist! and… seriously — reblogs and comments are heavily appreciated. don’t just leave a like! it helps keep me motivated. 🙏

“Come on, Rickles. Hey!”

Rickles was storming straight for the front door, adamant on his decision to leave. Even with Joey calling for him and following after him, he didn’t change his mind one bit. Once he reached the door, he attempted to open it.

Well, unfortunately for him, the door was completely locked. There was no way to get out. In fact, as Rickles attempted to open the door, some sort of silver gate rose up, blocking the door from any sort of access. It was completely shielded by the gate. Everyone stared at the door in confusion. How the hell did that happen?

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Peter asked. He figured that since he was the strongest of the entire group, he probably had a chance at unlocking the door. It was worth a try, at least.

Turns out, being 6’5” and over 200 pounds doesn’t always make somebody the strongest. No matter how hard Peter strained as he tried to break the door free, nothing happened.

Confused, Peter looked up at the door. “What the fuck?”

He turned around to look at Rickles. “Rickles, stand back.”

Rickles took a few steps back, and then Peter threw himself at the gate, trying to use all of his strength in an attempt to successfully break through it. Still, nothing happened. It only resulted in some physical pain that definitely hadn’t been worth it.

“It’s locked,” Peter announced, disappointed.

Frank rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Peter. It’s obviously fuckin’ locked.”

Sylvie and the others watched as Peter still tried to unlock the door. Great, so now everyone was stuck here. Dean had mysteriously been killed, and now the front door was completely unusable. It almost seemed like this entire place was just one big trap.

Frank sauntered over to Sylvie with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, then.”

Sylvie looked up at Frank, a half-annoyed expression on her face. Seeing that infuriatingly smug grin on his face made her want to just smack him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Maybe she was a coward, maybe it was something else. Either way, the fact she couldn’t make herself do anything about it was bothering her. It was as though her feelings toward Frank were slowly beginning to do a complete 180° in the span of just a few hours.

“And I bet you’re just happy about that, aren’t you?” She asked, trying to sound like a total smart-ass. A snarky response was the most Sylvie could do.

Frank’s smirk grew at Sylvie’s response. He only looked cockier. “Well, I’m certainly not complaining.”

“This whole thing is a trap.”

Frank and Sylvie looked to see Rickles walking away in an obvious hurry. If the front door wasn’t going to be any use, then he figured he’d keep looking. He was determined to get out of this place somehow.

Peter watched as Rickles disappeared. “Rickles! Where’s… hey. Where’s Rickles going?”

“Goddamnit.” Frank hissed under his breath. “Don’t worry about it, Peter. I’ll go after him.”

Peter sighed. “Alright.”

Joey then had an idea. “If Valdez is here, perhaps he checked on the girl and left her there to throw us off…” she speculated.

“I’ll go talk to her.” Sylvie then offered. Right as Joey was about to speak, she was already making her way back up the stairs to the kid’s room.

“Wait—”

Sylvie paused, turning around to look at Joey, who was trying to catch up with her.

“You can’t go in there, Ava.”

“She’s already seen my face. It doesn’t matter.”

Before Joey could say anything else to try and stop Sylvie, she continued on her way.

When Sylvie carefully opened the door, Abigail looked up at her, fearfully clutching a blanket. The sight made Sylvie’s heart clench. She felt really, really bad for the kid. None of this was right at all. She should be at home right now, not locked up in some mansion in the middle of nowhere in Massachusetts.

“What do you… want?” The girl croaked, her voice trembling. “Where’s Joey?”

Sylvie sighed, carefully taking a seat on the edge of the bed, making sure to keep her distance. The last thing she wanted was to make the kid even more afraid than she already was.

“I just need to ask you something,” Sylvie explained, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need to talk to you, okay?”

Reluctantly, the girl slowly nodded. She still seemed wary of Sylvie, but not as much. Well, that was a good sign at least.

“Has anyone else been in this room?” Sylvie then asked.

Abigail paused, then shook her head. “N-no… just you and… Joey… and the man with the glasses…”

Sylvie slowly nodded. Only her, Joey, and Frank had been in the room, apparently. Just to make sure that Abigail was being honest, she decided to press a little more. She knew how scared kids could lie, speaking from her own experience. Sylvie had personally lied a lot as a child to protect herself. If Valdez had come in here, there was the possibility that he could’ve threatened Abigail into keeping his name out of her mouth. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case.

“Are you sure?” Sylvie asked, slowly raising an eyebrow.

Abigail gave a quick nod.

Sylvie sighed. “Nobody else has been in this room, is that correct? By the way, you can be honest. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

Abigail shook her head. Sylvie tried to search her expression for any sign of hesitation, but… she appeared to be telling the truth. Sylvie couldn’t detect a single sign of dishonesty.

She was about to get up and leave the room when Abigail suddenly spoke up.

“He’s gonna hurt me.”

Sylvie turned around to look at her, noticing how the girl seemed to be completely frightened again. She paused, feeling her chest begin to tighten with concern.

“What do you mean? Who’s gonna hurt you?”

“The man with the glasses.” Abigail continued, her voice growing more panicked. “He said he’s gonna hurt me.”

Sylvie could feel her chest start to tighten even more. “Wait, hold on. Are you telling me the truth?”

Abigail frantically nodded. “Yes! I’m serious… I’m serious. Please… please believe me. I’m really scared. He said I need to keep a secret, or… or he’d hurt me.”

“What secret?”

What she said next made Sylvie’s heart just about drop to her stomach.

“He said he works for my father… he said his name’s… Valdez.”

Fuck.

Sylvie didn’t know what to believe. Sure, Frank was a cold-hearted bastard in all honesty… but a ruthless murderer? Maybe she was just in denial, but she couldn’t picture him doing what had been done to Dean. She wasn’t sure if he was that sadistic, that cruel. The idea of Frank working for Lazar and being a brutal killer was enough to make Sylvie sick to her stomach.

If it was all true… then what else did Sylvie not know about Frank?

“You’re not just saying that, right?” She carefully asked.

Abigail looked so afraid that she seemed as though she was about to break down in tears. She fervently nodded again. “I’m telling the truth, I promise!”

Sylvie had to get out of there. She couldn’t bring herself to hear anything else. She didn’t want to hear anything else.

But, as she started to head for the door, Abigail spoke up again.

“Why are you surprised?”

Sylvie was starting to feel increasingly agitated. She turned around again, suddenly sick of hearing the child’s voice. “What the hell do you mean?” She asked, sounding almost irritated. She instantly regretted it.

“He’s a very bad man. I think you know that.”

Sylvie had enough. Quickly, she rushed out of the room and shut the door, her mind struggling to process everything she had just heard. None of it made sense. None of it seemed… real. She leaned against the door, trying to steady her breathing.

What am I supposed to do now?

As Sylvie remained there, her back pressed against the door, she tried to think. As she reflected on Abigail’s words, she thought about what she said about Frank working for Lazar. As she thought about it… she reluctantly realized that it made sense. She remembered back to when she and Frank were talking earlier, how he had admitted to leaving his old life behind.

What if he had been referring to working for Lazar?

The more Sylvie thought about it, the more sick she felt. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. Maybe the kid’s just lying because she’s scared.

But… why would she say something like that?

Why are you surprised? He’s a very bad man. Those words kept repeating in Sylvie’s brain. But… what confused her the most was Abigail’s next words after that, “I think you know that.” What the hell had she meant by that? I think you know that? Sylvie didn’t even know who the fuck the girl was.

What was even worse was that she was right — Sylvie knew that Frank wasn’t a good person. But… “a very bad man?” What the fuck— nevermind. She was done thinking about this bullshit. The more she thought, the more confused she became.

As Sylvie continued to lean against the door, she heard voices coming from one of the rooms down the hall — Joey and Rickles. Quickly, she hurried down the hall and into the room, clearly interrupting a conversation. Upon seeing the worry on Sylvie’s face, though, Joey and Rickles both became concerned.

“What is it?” She asked.

Sylvie drew in a shaky breath. “Something is really fucking wrong.”

Joey narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Sylvie couldn’t bring herself to explain. “If you want to know, go talk to the girl yourself. I don’t… I don’t know if she’s being serious or not.”

Joey and Rickles exchanged a disconcerted glance before looking back at Sylvie. Joey slowly nodded. “Alright. I’ll… be right back.”

Once Joey disappeared, Rickles glanced at Sylvie again. “You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” He commented. “The hell happened?”

Sylvie shook her head. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it. If she tells Joey the same thing she told me, I swear to God…”

Now, Rickles just seemed confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Look. Are you sure there’s no other way out of here? I need to get out of here. I… I want to go home.”

Rickles sighed, crossing his arms. “Trust me, I wish there was. As far as I know, we’re all locked up in here for who knows how much goddamn longer. I’m not buying the ‘twenty-four hours’ bullshit. I guarantee this is a trap.”

Sylvie nervously tapped her foot against the floor, her eyes darting around anxiously as she waited for Joey to return, anticipating what she would say. Seconds ticked by, and they were starting to seem like hours at this point.

“You believe Valdez is real, right?” Sylvie then asked.

Rickles slowly nodded. “I’ve heard too much shit about him for him not to be.” He answered, his voice taking on a grave tone.

“Do you really think it’s possible he’s here right now? Like, one of us is actually him?”

“Dean’s head was ripped clean off. That’s some bullshit that only Valdez is capable of,” Rickles explained, “and if the girl’s Lazar’s daughter… gives him more of a reason to be here.”

“Have you two seen Frank?”

Sylvie and Rickles turned around to see Joey briskly walking towards them. Her expression was difficult to read, but she did seem rather pissed. At least, that’s what her tone of voice suggested.

“I can go look for him.” Rickles then offered. “Why? He the next victim?”

Joey scoffed. “No. Actually, he might be the killer.”

Rickles’ eyes narrowed in a mixture of confusion and shock. “Wait, what?”

Sylvie felt like she was going to vomit right then and there.

“Frank is Valdez.” Joey continued, her voice cold. “He told the girl.”

Rickles wasn’t exactly buying it. “He wanted to leave. That doesn’t make any sense.”

He had a good point, Sylvie thought. If Frank was really Valdez, then why the hell did he seem so adamant about leaving after talking to Abigail?

“He acted like he wanted to leave.” Joey then said.

“If he’s Valdez and Lazar’s his boss, then why kidnap his kid?” Rickles questioned.

Sylvie was relieved that at least Rickles was skeptical… but at the same time, if Frank wasn’t Valdez, then who was? Jesus Christ… none of this was making any sense.

“Maybe he and Lambert are planning a power play.” Joey suggested.

Rickles let out a sigh. “You’re telling me that skinny motherfucker rips people apart?” He scoffed. “Something doesn’t add up.”

Sylvie decided that she might as well offer her opinion. “I know he’s an asshole, but I can’t picture him doing some gruesome shit like that, y’know?”

Joey seemed reluctant to believe Rickles and Sylvie, her expression wary. “All I know is that Frank definitely isn’t an amateur. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.” She spoke. “If Frank really is Valdez, then he definitely knows how to get out of here, which means so would I if I spend about six minutes with him.”

“So… what’s the plan?” Sylvie asked.

Joey sighed, clicking her tongue as she tried to think of something. “You two split up and take the main staircase. I’ll go south. We’ll meet in the middle.”

Reluctantly, Sylvie slowly nodded. “Alright.”

Rickles tried to offer a small, reassuring smile. “We gonna get through this.”

“I have to.”

“You have a kid?” He asked.

Joey nodded. Sylvie felt a pang in her chest. God… she definitely did not belong here. Silently, Sylvie hoped that Joey’s son was safe and well back at home.

Rickles placed a comforting hand on Joey’s shoulder. “We’ll make sure you get home.”

As Sylvie wandered through the mansion, she started to feel unsafe now that she had lost sight of Rickles. Now, she was by herself, and suddenly… everything seemed eerily quiet. Where was he, anyway?

Sylvie stood there in the hallway, her eyes anxiously darting around as she tried to see if she could hear or spot any sign of him. Yet, there was nothing.

And then, she heard what sounded like gurgling coming from the distance. Her heart starting to race with worry, Sylvie dashed toward the direction of where the sound was coming from, leading her to another room. As she stood in the doorway, she saw Rickles standing there, his back turned.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Sylvie asked, her voice cautious.

Then, Rickles suddenly collapsed, and that was when Sylvie caught sight of his face — it was horribly mutilated and looked as though a fucking dog had ripped through his face. His cheek was torn open, and she could see his teeth through the gaping, bloody hole. The wound went all the way down his neck, dark blood staining his shirt.

Covering her mouth, Sylvie took a few steps back, desperately fighting the urge to vomit. She immediately wanted to break down and cry right there, just… scream. “What the fuck…? No, no, no…”

Two people had just brutally died in this mansion. Already, two people were gone in only a brief span of time. Sylvie didn’t know how much more she could handle. Who was going to be next? That was all she could think about.

Quickly, Sylvie ran to the nearest bathroom, opening the toilet seat as she retched. Nothing came up, so all she could do was let out painful dry heaves. Once she was done, she closed the seat and staggered to her feet. Suddenly feeling a rush of anger, she slammed her fists against the wall, as though she was trying to knock some sense into herself. Maybe this was just a nightmare, and she’d wake up from it.

“Wake up… fucking WAKE UP!”

She continued to punch the wall, but nothing happened. She only felt pain… which meant this was either real or a hyper-realistic nightmare. Unfortunately, it was beginning to seem like it was… real.

“Hey, what the fuck’s the matter with you?”

Sylvie whipped her head around, her senses on high alert. Any movement, sound, or voice was enough to make her jump out of her skin at this point.

When she turned around, Sylvie saw Frank standing there, looking at her with a mixture of annoyance and… perhaps a bit of concern, which was rather rare to see from him. It seemed more like an annoyed type of concern, whatever the hell that meant.

Upon seeing Frank’s face, Sylvie didn’t know how to react. One thing was for sure — she didn’t feel good.

“Get… get away from me.”

Frank narrowed his eyes, his annoyance growing. Instead of listening to Sylvie and backing away from her, he only stepped closer to her. She flinched as he moved towards her, almost as if she was expecting him to hurt her.

Frank let out an irritated scoff. “Jesus Christ, would you calm the fuck down? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Why don’t you have any… blood on you?” Sylvie asked, her voice shaking.

Frank looked taken aback by the question, his eyes widening slightly in a genuine expression of shock. “The fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“You… you’re Valdez. The girl… the girl told me.”

Frank went from shocked to annoyed in seconds. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You’re seriously listening to her?”

“Rickles just… Rickles just died. Rickles and Dean are both dead. You…”

Frank rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Sylvie, for the love of God. You don’t have a single clue what you’re fuckin’ talking about, do you? I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Well, can you please tell me what the fuck is going on? I just saw two people die. I’m scared. I want to get out of here.”

“What’s going on?” Frank repeated. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Please tell me the truth. The girl said the same thing to me and Joey, that you’re… that you’re Valdez.”

Frank let out an annoyed huff. “Did she, now? Well, I don’t appreciate people trying to tarnish my fuckin’ reputation.”

Sylvie swallowed, trying to steady her breathing. “So… she’s lying?”

Frank chuckled, the sound devoid of any humor. “No fuckin’ shit. Children love to lie… but lying about something like this? I’d say that somebody needs to be put in their goddamn place.”

“But then… who did it? Who’s… killing everybody?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. That’s what we’re all trying to figure out, right?”

Letting out an annoyed grumble, Frank turned around to walk away. Just as he was about to leave, Sylvie spoke.

“You’re not going to let anything happen to me, right? Just… tell me everything’s going to be okay. I don’t… I really don’t want to die. Not here.”

Frank paused, looking back at Sylvie for a moment. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed slightly caught off-guard by her sudden vulnerability. In the time that he knew her, he never once heard her ask him for reassurance. Frank had always known Sylvie as a defiant, feisty little brat… yet, here she was, frightened to death because she didn’t want to die. It was a side of her that he had never seen before.

No, don’t let her get to you.

Frank remained silent for a few moments, trying to think of how he would respond.

“You’re not gonna die.” He simply answered, his voice matter-of-fact. Cold. Emotionless.

And then, he left.