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holdmymallowsweet · 2 months

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What are you doing here? 01

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC Word count: 4328, properly tagged on AO3

Chapter summary: Falling right between the awkwardness of their first encounter outside the Undercroft and their jaunt into the Scriptorium, Ominis and the new fifth year have an innocuous little meet up in the library.

a/n: I’ve always wondered why Mc would offer to talk to Ominis about the Scriptorium, when their last interaction outside the Undercroft was so hostile, and I figured there could have been another conversation in between- not anything deep or meaningful, just a little chat that made it clear that they don’t hate each other. So that’s what this is, and although it’s now the first chapter/prologue of a slow-burn longfic, it was originally a oneshot and can still be read as such, if you prefer. Enjoy! And many, many thanks to @myokk for encouraging me to finally post this, you're the best ❤️

Masterlist || Chapter 02

Chapter 01 - Invitation

Sending her that letter might have been a mistake.

Ominis Gaunt had been sitting in the library for hours now, waiting for someone who, he now realised, in all likelihood would not come.

“I heard you running around aimlessly in the defence against the dark arts tower again today. If you enjoy my company that much, perhaps you would like to join me in the library this evening. I’ll wait.”

It was supposed to be a playful way of telling her he was not angry anymore, a sort of peace offering after he had yelled at her outside the Undercroft.

It was only after he’d sent the letter that he realised it probably sounded presumptuous and rude beyond belief. Words on parchment couldn’t tell the reader what tone of voice they’d like to be read in, at least not until someone invented a spell for that, but it was too late to take it back.

He sighed. Honestly, he could not remember what possessed him to write the blasted thing in the first place. It had been a whim, a result of his frustration and loneliness when he heard he’d be spending another evening alone because Sebastian had gotten himself detention again. He was not usually that bold, and she was practically a stranger.

They did happen to share a best friend in Sebastian though, so one could hardly blame him for trying to get to know her. In fact, it might be long overdue.

At least that was the excuse he’d use if anyone asked. Or the one he told himself, to be honest.

The truth was, she intrigued him. It took him some time to realise it, but now that he did, he couldn’t let go of the feeling. If Sebastian was to be believed, she was curious about him too, or at least she had been, for a fleeting moment- before his temper got the better of him and he took his frustrations about Sebastian’s betrayal out on her.

Ominis sighed again and ran his hand through his hair.

Someone from across the table shushed him, and his face twitched in slight annoyance.

Oh, he really hoped they’d be gone by the time she showed up, whoever they were.

If she showed up.

By now, it seemed more likely that he’d stay here sulking by his lonesome until it was time to walk back to the dungeons, perhaps facing a bemused Sebastian who’d already know where he’d been. The two of them seemed incapable of keeping secrets from one another, after all.

That would ultimately be the proper punishment for his unreasonable jealousy, her rejection delivered by his best friend.

He’d come to the library with every intention of writing the assigned essay for Herbology, determined not to care too much about whether she’d take him up on his invitation, but it was a lost cause. His self-spelling quill wouldn’t work properly unless he concentrated on the precise words he wanted to put on the parchment, but with his head filled with thoughts of the new fifth year and the undefined nature of whatever relationship they did or didn’t have, all he had managed to write so far was an embarrassing mess.

Ominis considered writing with his own hand, but thought better of it. He could, of course. He’d make notes or short letters without his enchanted quill regularly, but writing an entire essay without being able to tell when the lines would inadvertently run into one another was a daunting task. He’d have to use twice as much parchment as anyone else, and he already felt sorry for Professor Garlick, if she’d have to decipher the mess.

Finally, he decided to just give it up. The door opened, and once again, he strained his ears. He was able to recognize her footsteps by now. Not her, just some unfortunate chap getting chewed out by Madam Scribner for returning his books late.

He was starting to feel ridiculous.

It felt like hours since he’d hurried through the castle, almost slipping on the wet fallen leaves covering the stairs when he left the owlery. Heart thumping with excitement, he’d even made sure to sit at a table where he would, hopefully, be seen by her as soon as she walked in, but far enough away from the librarian to have a conversation without being reprimanded for disturbing the peace and quiet.

Actually, if he hadn’t been so concerned that she might not see him and leave, or that he might miss her coming in, he would have preferred a table in the farthest corner on the second floor, away from prying eyes. She was still the talk of the school and gathered attention wherever she went, and “What is she doing with Gaunt?” was not something he wanted to hear whispered in the corridors.

Thankfully, it was one of the last warm and sunny days before the autumn chill fully set in, so most students were happy to make the most of it and took their work outside. Even Cressida Blume still seemed determined to let Madam Scribner forget her face (not that she would), and he hadn’t heard any other classmate of theirs either.

Sebastian’s detention was pointless busy work as usual- scrubbing or cleaning or something of the sort. Truthfully, Ominis had ceased to pay attention when his friend complained about his punishments long ago. Whatever it was, it kept him far away from the library- no one was foolish enough to try and “punish” Sebastian by letting him get his hands on even more books.

Not that it mattered whether they knew the curious onlookers or not. She was still the object of everyone’s interest and admiration, and with the way things were going, that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. Not while she was so eager and endearing, always willing to drop everything the second someone needed something from her.

Right, it wasn’t like her to deny a request from a fellow student. She’d usually jump at the chance to do someone a favour, even if it came from someone she’d never seen before, even if it was much more bothersome than studying in the library for an hour or two.

So why wasn’t she here?

She wouldn’t have shown anyone his letter, would she? Unless she didn’t have to, if the owl reached her at an inopportune time, Merlin knows who else might have read it over her shoulder.

Ominis could imagine it, them sitting in a circle in the Hufflepuff girl’s dormitory, passing his letter around, seemingly teasing her about it in a playful attempt to get her to be wary of him. Until her curiosity would get the better of her and she’d ask them why precisely they found him so disagreeable. He shuddered.

According to Sebastian, she already knew. She knew, and didn’t care.

According to Sebastian, she also felt apologetic and regretful about their last encounter, much like him.

And if that was the truth- he couldn’t be entirely sure it was, but if it was, why wasn’t she here? Ominis tapped his quill against the parchment, piercing tiny holes into it and probably soaking the table underneath with ink.

He was slowly but surely getting annoyed now. If she was as regretful about invading the Undercroft as Sebastian had made it seem, she should have pounced at the chance to meet up with him and make things right.

Of course, that had been weeks ago, so she might have gotten over it by now. Still, he wasn’t good enough for her to at least show up and quietly do her homework on the opposite side of the table? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any work to do. She always did, with all the extra assignments the Professors threw at her to help her catch up, and even if by some miracle she didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt her to simply study, for once.

She could have come. Ominis frowned. Unless she actually couldn’t.

Notorious troublemaker and rule breaker that she was, he’d often half jokingly wondered when her recklessness would come to bite her in the arse, only it wasn’t unthinkable, was it?

Her duelling skills didn’t make her invincible, it was entirely possible that she was lying dead, or dying, somewhere on the cold forest floor. Small animals and insects already crawling under her robes and the scarf she always insisted on wearing, slowly devouring her corpse while a confused owl pecked at her, trying to get her cold hands to take his stupid, embarrassing letter.

Ominis took a deep, steadying breath in an attempt to squash the slowly rising dread.

Stop it. She was fine, she had other things to do, or she thought she was in trouble with him again and didn’t feel like being chastised and insulted all evening. It was annoying that she didn’t even want to find out what he wanted from her- nothing, really, except perhaps a chance to clear the air- but he had no right to complain, he was the one who messed things up.

And his annoyance was merely a way to mask his fear of rejection.

He slumped down, his forehead hitting the table with a soft thud. Ears filled with the sounds of soft footsteps, turned pages and scratching quills, ink from his quill staining his fingertips but nothing to really occupy his mind in her stead.

Why couldn’t he have spent a few more minutes to rewrite that letter, although one could barely call it a letter- the note, why couldn’t he have tried to sound a bit more friendly and inviting? Then again, even a second longer might have caused him to rethink the whole thing, keeping him from sending it at all.

All things considered, that would have been a blessing in disguise, saving him from making an absolute fool of himself.

He’d heard it countless times from the Sallow twins, trying to console him in his moments of self-doubt; that he was a good person, a good friend, that he was fun to be with, but it’s not like she’d ever seen that side of him.

The two of them would make an odd, unlikely combination, but he wanted to get to know her, be near her. His invitation had been a final act of desperation- or perhaps insanity- a desire to hold on to the strange but comforting, tender feeling that rose in his chest whenever he heard her voice in class or her footsteps in the hallways nowadays.

At the very least, he wanted to make sure there was no lingering resentment between them.

The library door opened again, and the next sound to reach his ears suddenly made his head feel blissfully empty.

It was her voice, and he instantly straightened his back and cocked his head to the side to listen better as she greeted the librarian.

She made her way through the library, with eager steps, drawing closer until he could smell her signature scent, then until he could hear her breathing. Ominis noticed she was slightly out of breath.

Had she been in a hurry?

To meet him?

In spite of the confusion, the sick feeling inside him dissolved almost instantly, all thoughts of why she made him wait only to show up hours later forgotten. She cared. She cared at least enough to give him a bit of her time.

“Hello, Ominis,” she said.

He knew she wasn’t one for formalities, calling all of her classmates by their first name without invitation.

What surprised him more was the lack of any bitterness or trepidation he’d expected to hear in her voice, instead, she sounded cheerful, excited, almost.

“There you are. Care to sit down?” he replied, trying his best to sound unbothered while ignoring the sudden flutter of nervousness in his stomach. The scraping of the chair from across the table told him she did.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I’m really sorry.”

Are you?

She sounded genuinely apologetic. Suddenly he realised, with another bout of nerves, that this would be the first time they actually had a proper conversation. Without any shouting. She was here for no other reason than to spend time with him, and more importantly, because he asked her to.

Ominis took perhaps a bit too long to answer, but she didn’t seem to notice. It sounded like she was busy taking her textbooks out.

“It’s all right. It’s not like I was just wasting time waiting for you, I was quite busy.” It was almost not a ridiculous lie, considering he’d been busy indeed, desperately craving her company, making a mess of his homework, hoping she’d care enough to show up. He hoped she wouldn’t think too hard about the messy, half empty parchments littering the table.

It wouldn’t be fair to be upset about it. After all, he invited her on short notice and they never agreed on a time to meet.

“I left as soon as I got your owl, but it took me a while to get here,” she sighed, casually pushing aside his mess on the table to make space for her own.

Why? Where have you been?

Obviously not on school grounds.

“Why would that be?” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“I was near Aranshire.”

“Aranshire? What were you up to over there?” He raised his eyebrow. He knew it was one of the Hamlets, the one close to Hogsmeade station, if he wasn’t mistaken, but he couldn’t judge exactly how far away from the castle it was.

Oh, he had a bad feeling about this, and she, ever so perceptive, noticed.

“Nothing to be concerned about.” she said airily.

She doesn’t trust me.

Ominis knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. They barely knew each other, after all, and yet he couldn’t help the tiny stab of annoyance as she was lying to him yet again. If it had been Sebastian, she would have told him.

Then again, Sebastian had never threatened to get her in trouble with the Headmaster.

“Anyway, on my way back something came up and I looked a bit dishevelled by the end of it, and it took me a while to sort that out. That’s why I’m late. I really am sorry.”

“You looked… dishevelled?”

She hummed in agreement, taking a moment to shuffle around pieces of parchment before answering properly. “Just a bit.”

“You do know I wouldn’t be able to tell,” he said with a smirk.

She laughed, and Ominis was almost disturbed by how much he liked the sound of it.

“Fair enough, I suppose, but others would, and I wouldn‘t want to give anyone a reason to stare, or… talk more about me than they already do.”

Ominis tensed. He’d always been aware and annoyed at how much the entire school seemed to gossip about her, but he’d never considered that she’d know, or how she felt about it. There was an odd sort of undertone in her voice.

He wondered yet again how much she knew, or guessed, about the things others said behind his back, when they thought he was out of earshot, always underestimating his hearing. They were careful when Sebastian was close, but they had no reason to hold back when it was just her.

So was she concerned about what the others might say if they saw them together? For her sake, or for his? He was beginning to feel sick again.

“Why did you look ‘a bit dishevelled’ in the first place?” he asked in an attempt to return to the original subject, and perhaps lighten the mood a bit.

“Well…” she hesitated for a moment. “I had a run in with some spiders.”

Oh no.

“Really, nothing to be concerned about.” She added quickly when he furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something.

If he had to guess, this wasn’t the first time something like that had happened- in fact he knew it wasn’t. Dragons, Trolls, Dark Wizards, now this- and Merlin knew what else in between. She almost seemed to enjoy it, always roaming around, curious to see what else she could take on.

That recklessness made him uneasy. He had spent the last four years with another one like that, and the two of them being best friends felt like pouring oil in a fire.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course I am. Nothing a bath and a Wiggenweld potion couldn’t fix,” she reassured him.

So you did get hurt.

Ominis frowned. He couldn’t smell any blood, and didn’t hear any strange whispers when she came in. She also didn’t sound as if she was in any pain, so she most likely wasn’t lying when she said she was fine now. Her having just taken a bath also explained why the scent of her soap was slightly stronger than usual and not mixed with the earthy, piney smell of the forest that always clung to her when she’d been roaming around the highlands.

“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly.

The question caught Ominis by surprise. “Certainly. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seem a bit tense. If there’s anything I can help you with…”

Even without sight, he could guess she was pausing to look at him expectantly. Merlin, did she think that’s why he asked her to meet him?

“No, I…” There were a lot of things he would have liked to say to her, and yet he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

He had to say something, though, because the silence between them as she waited for Ominis to finish his sentence was starting to feel oppressive.

“I’m fine,” he finally said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how much he was stressing over what, to her, was a casual conversation she had with dozens of others on an average day.

For Merlin’s sake, they were classmates sitting in the library, making smalltalk.

Time to change the subject.

“Really though, what were you doing out there?” He tried his luck again.

“Just the usual.”

Ominis barely managed to suppress a frustrated sigh. “Which would be…?”

She seemed to consider him for a moment. The building frustration from her annoyingly vague answers must have been evident, and Ominis thought for a split second that he’d pushed too far.

“Nothing too exciting. Chatting to some of the locals. Looking for good spots to collect potion ingredients, that sort of thing.”

“Sharp must be very proud of you.”

She laughed that melodic, infuriatingly infectious laugh of hers, and Ominis was both relieved and grateful that the atmosphere lightened considerably again, even as the annoying git who shushed him earlier made a disapproving noise. If she’d heard it, she’d decided to ignore it, and Ominis was more than happy to follow her lead.

“I’m not doing it to please Professor Sharp, I quite enjoy potion making- unlike some of us,” she teased.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t bother denying it, it’s not like I’m imagining the sour look on your face every time I look at you during Potions.”

So she hadn’t been ignoring him, even after everything that had happened. His insides squirmed pleasantly. Perhaps she was still curious about him, after all.

Ominis cleared his throat.

“So, had any success in finding those potion ingredients?” he asked, awkwardly attempting to keep the conversation going.

“Hmm. I’m running out of Horklump juice, but there weren’t any around. I did find some Ashwinder eggs though, at an abandoned poacher camp nearby,” she rambled on absentmindedly, still shuffling around her pieces of parchment. “I’ve always been curious about them, you know. I’d like to see one someday.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. They’re dangerous criminals, you know.”

She held back a laugh. “I meant an Ashwinder- as in the creature, not the poachers. I’ve seen quite enough of them.”

“...it was a joke.”

She giggled. “I’ve been thinking about how I always collect their eggs as potion ingredients, but I’ve never actually seen one,” she mused.

Well, they weren’t exactly the sociable sort, even for snakes.

Ominis had met an Ashwinder once, in the gardens behind his family home, after it had slithered out of an abandoned fire his older brother had been playing around with before he’d wandered off, bored. Excited to have someone to talk to, someone who he’d hoped wouldn’t either dismiss him or use the opportunity for some casual cruelty, Ominis had bent down to greet the little snake. It had told him to sod off and slithered away to lay its eggs. Back then, he’d been sulking the whole day over it.

The corners of his lips twitched upwards.

Shame, he thought ruefully. There he actually had a somewhat funny story about the very thing she was interested in, and he couldn’t even tell her. Not without revealing secrets about himself that he’d rather keep tightly guarded.

“Have you ever heard one?” She inquired.

Ominis stiffened instantly. So much for his tightly guarded secrets. He really would have to wring Sebastian’s neck one of these days. “What do you mean by that?”

“I only meant, well…,” she answered sheepishly, “… you obviously wouldn’t have seen one, and I know you have good hearing. Sorry, did I say something wrong?” She was obviously taken aback.

“No, of course not. I’m sorry.” He relaxed. So Sebastian hadn’t told her that, at least. He cleared his throat. “You would have to be lucky to see one. They are born from unattended magical fires and only live for about an hour, barely long enough to lay their eggs.”

“Ah.” She was fumbling with her quill, running her fingers along the feathered edges, from the sound of it, seemingly deep in thought, and thankfully not angry at him for snapping at her. “If they’re born from fires, what are they laying eggs for?”

“I think that’s a question better asked of Professor Howin,” Ominis replied. “You’re the one taking Beasts class, not me.”

“So… could I just make a fire somewhere, ‘unattend’ it and wait for one to come out?”

He gave her an amused snort, not sure if she was being serious. “Are you taking a page out of Peeve’s book, trying to burn down the castle?” Brows furrowed, he still flashed her a warm smile as she had a fit of giggles, and a pleasant warmth spread through his body.

“Perhaps I should take a page out of Peeve’s book, that’d make us even,” she said.

Ominis was waiting for her to explain that rather puzzling statement, but she didn’t.

“Meaning…?”

“Never mind.”

He brushed it off. This was all he’d wanted, sitting together, having a pleasant conversation, laughing about each other’s jokes. And yet it didn’t feel quite right, there was still a wall between them, made up of secrecy and lies.

She finally seemed to have started on her work, the scratching of her quill adding to the symphony of the rustling paper and soft hums and whispers surrounding them.

Apologise for yelling at her about the Undercroft.

Ominis wanted to, he really did, and if he was ever going to, now was the time- but he was still embarrassed just thinking about it and he didn’t want to ruin their first decent conversation by reminding her of how horrible he’d been. It might have been easier to talk about if she was the one to bring it up, and he quietly wondered why she didn’t.

Through the ambient sounds, he heard Madam Scribner get up from behind her desk, about to make a final pass through her sacred halls. Reminding students not to leave a mess, picking unwilling volunteers to tidy the mess of the ones who didn’t listen amongst the stragglers who couldn’t flee fast enough, he was almost tempted to make sure it’d be the two of them.

It wouldn’t be fair, though.

Based on her account of how she’d spent her evening so far and his own idle contemplations, they’d both need to dedicate the remaining hours of the day to schoolwork, and she’d already dropped her previous plans as soon as she received his owl- a courtesy far beyond anything he deserved.

They were out of time.

“We should probably leave.”

There she was, slipping through his fingers again. If only she’d arrived half an hour earlier, maybe he could have gathered his nerve and apologised, at least.

“Wait, weren’t we going to do our homework? I haven’t even started, to be honest.”

Ominis smirked. “The library is about to close, you know. I’ve been here for hours before you came in.” Not that he’d been very productive in that time.

“Oh.” She sounded defeated- and perhaps even a bit disappointed?

That might have been wishful thinking on his part.

“I guess I’ll head back to the common room then. If I’m lucky, Adelaide’s still up and I can copy from her.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Cheating on our assignments, are we?”

“Oh, well. I can’t always be a saint,” she said cheekily.

For a second, Ominis had the urge to walk her back to her common room, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her. It felt like it would be too much, walking around the castle with her, giving others the opportunity to make assumptions about a relationship that he himself didn’t yet fully understand.

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” he said instead. He gathered his things, ignoring the growing regret and guilt.

“See you, Ominis. And… if you enjoyed my company enough, perhaps we could do this again?”

He felt his cheeks grow hot. “Sure.”

She laughed. “Cheers.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Her scent and her laughter still lingered and he was left wondering what, if anything, this little get together had accomplished.

Ominis could not have known this would be their last proper conversation before the three of them entered the Scriptorium.

more a/n: Before the Scriptorium though, the next chapter will be a little trip down memory lane, featuring the earful Sebastian got for showing her the Undercroft. It’s finally here! I started working on this a while ago, so if you’ve read this far, thank you! Like I kind of hinted at in the beginning, the concept of this fic is basically “what could they have been up to ‘off-screen’, if canon events stay exactly the same” (up to and including the fact that no one ever mentions mc’s name, we’ll see if I live to regret this decision), and I don’t know if that’s interesting to anyone but myself, but I’d be happy if anyone wants to be along for the ride. Writing from Ominis’ pov is a challenge and I try my best to keep in mind that he’s blind when describing things (so don’t expect visual descriptions of anything, ever), but hopefully without constantly drawing attention to it, I hope I managed to do that respectfully and realistically. That said, if anything feels off to you or you have questions, feel free to let me know. And finally, English is not my first language. I proofread and edit everything I write to hell and back but if I still misspelt anything or obviously misused a word, let me know so I can fix it (just be nice about it). There’s a lot more I wanted to put in the authors’ notes but I think it’s already rambly enough, so I’ll leave it at that. Until next time? (I’ve written a few chapters ahead and I’ll try to upload regularly, but realistically, I probably won’t manage it more frequently than once every 1.5 to 2 weeks)

#hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #ominis fanfic #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #mallow tries to write #WAYDH

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lincolndjarin · 1 year

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Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 7.8k (at last, a normal chapter length)

summary : din is so in love it's obscene at this point, keep it in your chest man (it being his heart.)

warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, this chapter is a sappy nightmare,,, like i've got one last chance to be sappy before i need to do my action packed finale so this is just me being sappy, din djarins so in love it makes me sick, fingering, p in v, clit stim, reverse cowgirl, creampie, cockwarming, massages, just general happiness like why are these idiots so happy what is their problem

a/n : WOOF this took a fucking WHILE to get out, and for those who waited, prepare to be UNDERWHELMED lmao. this is the last chapter before the final arc of the story and i was feeling rather sentimental while I wrote it. anyhow,,, i have a million excuses for why this took so long but like who cares cause it's here now yippee!!! as for every chapter i've ever posted i have no idea if i like this or not so there's that, i kind of hate this one the way i hate every lunar interlude, like i've never written a din pov and felt good about it lmao so i guess we'll see. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

He doesn’t deserve this.

How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him.

He’s going to ask you to marry him.

Is that something he can do?

Technically of course you don’t really consider yourself married as far as he can tell. Sure you have a husband but that’s all he is, a husband.

An obstacle.

The two of you could still be married.

And you wanted to leave this place. So he was going to give you exactly that.

A home, far away from here.

He pulls you into the cabin, wanting nothing more than for you to see the smile on his face. Of course you won’t let him do that much to his confusion.

Maybe if you’re married to him you’ll look.

The longer you wait the more nervous he gets about it.

A lot can go wrong with this kind of thing.

Very specifically, you could just not find him attractive in the slightest, which wouldn’t be great all things considered. If that happened maybe he could just live with the helmet on and you’d be okay with that.

“Do you want to sleep here tonight or go back to the castle?” You look exhausted as he asks, he practically carries you towards the bed.

“Here’s fine.” You look too tired to walk back anyway.

He drags the mattress off of the busted frame, setting it on the floor. You seem surprised that he didn’t have a bigger reaction to your love confession.

He did the first time you’d said it a few days ago.

After the first day stuck in your room, you had said it that night. All you had wanted to do that day was fight and he hadn’t been able to give you even that. He knew you were right. It was stupid to stay.

Even if things are okay now.

You had said his name so clearly with such urgency that he believed you might be about to start another argument in the middle of the night.

“Din?” You had grabbed the front of his shirt and it wasn’t until he’d tried to talk to you that he’d realized you were still asleep.

“Are you okay, sarad?” He sat up and cradled your head in his hands but you’d only held on tighter as you mumbled in your sleep.

“I love you.” And just like that you were collapsing back in his arms, still asleep as if nothing had happened.

He hadn’t cried like he did that night since the kid left.

And it didn’t matter when you didn’t say it back in the morning. (Despite the fact that he had said it quite a bit.) You loved him and he knew it. And he had made sure to show you just how much he loved you on that second day.

He grins as you sit down on the bed with a yawn. He takes it upon himself to kneel beside you, unlacing the back of your gown. You have no resistance as he helps peel the rain soaked fabric from your skin.

“Let me get you a change of clothes.” He leaves you to get out of the rest as he finds you a simple set of sleep wear. You let him redress you until he finally lays you down and stands, going to change out of his own wet clothes.

When he steps out of the fresher you’ve turned the lights off he's in a clean flight suit with his helmet on as he slides under the blankets with you.

“Warm enough?” The cabin feels colder than the castle as he pulls you closer.

“I’m perfectly comfortable here.” Your voice is heavy with sleep as he rests his chin on the top of your head, beskar bumping against your hair.

“Get some sleep.” He mumbles, not bothering to close his own eyes.

“You promised you’d eat the candy.” You whisper into the darkness, you sound barely conscious.

“I did not.” At least he’s pretty sure he didn’t, he’s realized at this point that if he says anything with enough confidence you usually believe it.

“You alluded to it.” You’re right, he probably did.

“Do you really want to see the damage I would do after eating that thing?” He’ll never do it. In all honesty he’s a little nervous he’ll accidentally hurt you.

“A little.” You flip over in his arms so you’re facing him now, when you look at him he finds himself falling victim to the pleading look in your eyes. Damn nightvision.

“Go to sleep.” He has to close his eyes, if he stares at you too long he’ll give in despite his own worries. “I love you.” He murmurs. He needs you to know it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” You laugh softly before going silent.

It only takes a few more minutes before your breathing gets quiet and steady against him.

When he’s certain you’re asleep he reaches over to turn the lamp back on. You’d think with how often he does this that you’d have seen his face on accident at some point but maybe he’s just really lucky.

He likes to look at you without the helmet on.

It’s fine with it, but nothing compares to seeing you without the barrier. Sometimes, if he’s still wearing the helmet and he takes it off you smile in your sleep when the airlock hisses. But since you’re insistent on not looking he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to really look at you. So he does it on nights like these.

You get so sleepy after sex.

So he gets to hold you, and watch how your eyes flutter open the tiniest bit when he can’t help himself and kisses your cheeks until he can bring himself to sleep. Or how you mumble back to him when he whispers things to you in Mando’a.

Most importantly you look less worried when you sleep. You always look so worried but not when you’re like this. There is plenty to be worried about so he can’t hold it against you.

He’s going to build you a house someday. And he’s going to give you a garden.

So you can go outside and look at the flowers whenever you want.

And you won’t ever have to worry again.

With a soft hiss of air he removes his helmet, setting it somewhere in the sheets as he looks at you, unburdened. He likes the way your lips part just a little bit as the corners of your mouth lift.

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rolling over to rest his head on your chest so he can feel you breathe until he falls asleep, it helps him to match your breathing. Your hands hold him, even in your sleep you run your hands across his back and shoulders. One time you had a nightmare and you pulled his hair so hard you’d woke yourself up. But he’d never complain, it’s one of his favorite things about you. You love him even when you’re sleeping. Like right now, your nails lighty scratch at the nape of his neck.

It helps him sleep.

☆

When he wakes up he’s got a blanket thrown over his head and you’re already up, sitting at the table.

“You fell asleep without your helmet on.” He hears you grumble.

“Sorry.” He chuckles as he searches for it in the mess of sheets only to find you’d set it on the floor beside him. Once it’s properly in place he finds you reading. He stands behind you, looking over your shoulder.

“How did you find that?” He tries to grab the translation book but you swat his hand away.

“You said we had no secrets.” Your eyes are scanning the pages. “Ner means mine.” You grin up at him as you say it.

“Yes, it does.” He stares right back down at you.

You lean backwards, grabbing the front of his shirt.

“Ner.”

Would you think less of him if you knew how often his face turned red when you spoke to him like that? A few weeks ago that kind of worry would drive him mad, but now? He knows you wouldn’t mind, knowing you'd probably feel accomplished to get such a reaction from him.

“Gar serim.” You’re right. He murmurs back before getting your things together, listening to the sound of the pages frantically flipping behind him as you look for the words.

When you find the page you give him a dopey smile

He suddenly remembers something, going to the fresher and searching through last night's wet clothes he finds the vial, bringing it to you, you don’t need any instruction from him as you pop the cap off, drinking the contents before setting it aside.

“What do you want to do today?” He holds up the scraps of your dress, trying to decide if it’s even worth putting back on.

“I’m a little tired, maybe we could read today.” You turn just in time to watch him toss it back on the ground.

“Sounds perfect.” This will give him some much needed time to think.

He has a plan for today. There are a few things that he needs to get done before he leaves.

Like tell you that he has to leave.

Of course he doesn’t want to leave you, even if it’s only going to be for a few days, but he wants to do this the right way and to do that he needs to leave.

Just a few days. And then he doesn’t have to leave you ever again.

And he needs to get away from you long enough to make the failsafe he knows you don’t want. You’re always together at this point, (not that he would have it any other way.) so it won’t be easy to find time away to do it but he’ll figure it out.

“We should get going.” He’s pretty sure he has everything he needs and you need to be back in your room before any staff might notice you’re gone.

“But I wanna keep doing this.” You give him your sad eyes as you gesture to the book and he’s already ready to give in.

“You can bring that to the library.” He groans and that’s all the convincing needed to get you on your feet. He manages to get you back to your room just before the girls arrive. He stands where he’s expected to stand out in the hall. It’s the only time he really spends away from you.

When the door opens he instinctively stands up a little straighter.

They put you in a white dress.

A pretty white dress.

Did you know what this would do to him?

You can’t possibly know the effect this kind of thing has on him, if you did you wouldn’t put him through this.

“Ready?” He says as he peers at the translation book still happily tucked under your arm.

“Of course.” He’s mesmerized by your gown, it’s simpler than the ones they normally do you up in, white fabric flowing off your shoulders down to the floor, as you walk it trails behind you a bit. It’s a familiar quiet as he walks you to those large wooden doors, opening them as you rush inside.

“What do you want to read today?” You’re searching around the shelves, you’ve already set your own reading in the nook.

“Surprise me.” He won’t be reading today anyway, he needs to plan.

“Here.” You hand him a book on speeder maintenance, normally he’d be thrilled to spend the day reading the sort of thing but he really should just take today to think.

He sits first. Leaving space between his legs for you to sit which you happily do. Once you’re settled he opens his book, pretending to read as he lets his mind focus on what's important.

Starting with the part where he tells you he’s leaving.

Or that he’s decided rather recently that he needs to leave.

He should just do it now, get it out of the way so it stops bothering him, especially because he’d like to leave as soon as possible, but you seem so relaxed right now and he’d hate to ruin that.

So he’ll focus more on the trip itself than the telling you part.

It should only take a few days. A quick trip to the forge and back.

He’s pretty sure he’s found out where the convert currently is. He doesn't have as much free time as he used to so it took a little outside help, seeking out old colleagues until finally hearing word of an outer rim planet where they might be located. He’ll catch a transport ship there, take care of what needs to be taken care of, and be back to you before he knows it.

Then you can plan your life together.

He would love to just bring you to the forge with him, go from there and never look back. That would be ideal. To get you out of here as quickly as possible. But that’s not possible, if he’s gonna go this he’s gonna do it right, so he’ll plan everything down to the last detail to make sure that it’s as safe as possible. If he’s being realistic he knows you’ll have to do something drastic, probably along the lines of faking your death.

Will he have to kill Kodo?

He’d like to.

He’s wanted to kill Kodo for some time now, he’s just a little worried you’d be mad, you were so mad when he hit him.

He never wanted you to be that mad at him ever again.

So maybe he won’t.

That would be the easiest way to get you out though, to be fair. Kill Kodo and run, and deal with the consequences after. He’ll hide you away somewhere until things die down and then he’ll build you something permanent. A home for the both of you.

He could also just whisk you away into the night one of these days.

He honestly isn’t sure how long they’d look for you, the last thing he’d want is for you to have to live a life on the run, he wants for the both of you to be able to settle. If it was clear he had taken you it would be deemed a kidnapping, it would be a long search, how long would they look if they believed you just ran away? He doesn’t talk to other staff members enough to know how seriously the royal family would take such a thing.

Faking your death would probably be the easiest thing.

No one comes looking for you.

He isn’t entirely sure how you’ll handle that suggestion but if you’re serious about starting a life together it isn’t going to be easy.

“I’ll be right back.” He stands, and you immediately give him a confused look, he never gets up and leaves, but he’s just realized that you’ll need to be taken care of while he’s gone. Who will protect you when he’s away? He definitely doesn’t trust anyone here to watch over you, Elaine would be his first choice but she’s busy when she isn’t tending to you and in all honesty he isn’t sure what she would do if something were to happen to you.

So he’ll have to go with someone who he knows is available to watch you and who he’s certain won’t harm you.

You aren’t going to be happy with his choice.

When he steps out into the hall he calls his name, a few moments later Leo appears, he already seems reluctant, Din never summons him but this is important, and he doesn’t have any other options.

“I’m leaving, tomorrow, I have to take care of some things, Kodo said it would be fine for me to take time off when I took the job.” Tomorrow. Well that’s settled then he supposes. The twi’lek trembles under his gaze, clearly unsure as to where he’s going with this.

“While I’m gone you will watch her.” Din adds on at the end, Leo looks clearly unhappy with this arrangement as he stumbles back a bit.

“Me?”

“I won’t repeat myself. You will watch her, you will make sure she doesn’t leave the castle when I am gone. If somebody tries to get near her, you stop them, if somebody tries to hurt her, you will stand between them, if she gets hurt you will feel whatever pain she feels tenfold upon my return. If she so much as gets a papercut while she’s reading in the library there will be repercussions.” He straightens his posture to make himself the tiniest bit more imposing over Leo. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, you’re understood.” Based on the fear in Leo’s eyes he’s certain he may have gone a little overboard but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Good.”

That’s taken care of.

Once Leo is gone, disappearing down the hall, he opens the door, slipping back into the library where you’re standing in the entryway.

At least he doesn’t have to figure out how to tell you.

“You’re leaving.” You say it like it’s a fact. Which of course you now know it is.

“Yes.” No sense in hiding it.

“And you just weren’t going to tell me?” He definitely should have told you.

“I was just about to tell you.” He hates when you look at him the way you are now. Like you can see right through the steel, like you know he’s lying, like you can see the guilty expression on his face. “I was going to tell you soon. I have to go take care of some things.”

“Take me with you.” You say it more like a demand and less like a request. He probably should have seen that one coming, even if he wasn’t going to get something to surprise you with he probably wouldn’t be allowed to take you off planet.

“I wish I could, sarad, but I have to go alone, I’ll only be gone a few days.” Kriff, he really should have told you sooner.

“Where are you going?” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I… can’t tell you.” Not a great excuse, he knows that.

“If I’m being honest I don’t love the sound of that.” He can’t blame you, if your roles were reversed he wouldn’t just let you go.

“I know but I need you to trust me, I’ll only be gone a few days.”

“And you absolutely have to go?” You sound less mad and more upset now. If he wasn’t leaving to do something for you, your expression alone would be enough to make him stay.

“Yes. He says it like he’s confirming it for himself.

“I’ll miss you.” All the anger has left your voice, now you just sound sad.

“I’ll miss you.” More than anything.

“When will you be back?”

“I’m not sure exactly, I won’t be long.” Unless he can’t find the convert, but you don’t need to know that part. You nod and he’s a little surprised at your acceptance of all this. “I have to leave in the morning.” A deep frown settles on your face.

“So soon?” He really should have told you sooner.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If you have to then you have to.” You give him such a sad smile, he wishes he didn’t have to go but he wants to do this right.

“Can you stay here, I’ll come get you in a few hours.” He cradles your face in his hands, wishing he could wash away any of your doubts, but now that you know he should probably go get ready. “I have to go pack a few things, I’ll be back before dark, okay?”

“And then you’ll stay with me the rest of the night?” And every night after.

“Of course.”

“Okay then, hurry back.”

This will also probably be the only chance he gets to make that fail safe.

He lifts his helmet a bit to plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving you, watching as you instinctively close your eyes as he does. There isn’t a lot of time for him to do what he needs to do before you’ll be expecting him so he gets back to the cabin as quickly as possible.

He’s quick with everything, packing his bag with only the essentials and tossing the empty box down before finally sitting down at the table.

Now to write the note. A letter with instructions on what to do if something ever happens to him.

He doesn’t like the idea of you being left alone with your husband. The thought of it makes him sick.

If another body guard were hired they wouldn’t protect you from him.

Maybe he should ask Elaine to help you if that happens.

She could get you out.

If he wasn’t here he would want you to leave as quickly as possible, to go somewhere safe. He lists out all the places you could go, names and coordinates of people who can keep you safe at the mention of his name. He spends a solid hour staring at that piece of paper, writing out anything he’d want you to know before folding it up and setting it in the box.

With that taken care of he kneels on the floor, feeling around until locating the familiar loose board under the kitchen table.

He’d found it a week after moving in and it seemed like a perfectly good spot to hide things. He’s got a collection of things already set aside for you, he pulls each item from its hiding spot, putting them into the box before holding up a small chainmail shirt. He retrieves the stick shift knob from the shelf, wrapping it in the shirt and putting it in the box.

In his note he’s left you with a task, to give those to the kid, and to tell him that he’s sorry.

Lastly he fills a bag with credits, about a month's salary, you should be able to buy yourself a ship if you want, he isn’t sure if you’d know how to fly it but with the money provided you can pay someone to fly it for you. With that he sets the box under an extra flight suit in his bag before returning to the castle, on his way out the door he grabs the few bars of beskar he has.

You’re right where he left you in the library, your brows furrowed as you stare at that damn book, he should have hidden it better.

“Wanna go get some dinner?” You look up when he speaks, holding his hand out which you gladly take as he pulls you towards him.

“We can do that. You’re all packed?” Thankfully you look less upset than you had earlier.

“All packed.” He drops your hand as he opens the door, following you as you walk to the kitchens. He watches the way the back of your dress just barely drags along the stone floors as you ask for two dinners, handing his to him to carry with a smile as you continue to walk.

When you arrive back at your chambers you’re quick to lock the door, he watches as you rush to the closet, already sitting with your back to him when he steps inside, dim lamp light illuminates the room as he sits, his back brushing against yours as he listens to the sounds of your eating.

What he wouldn’t give to eat face to face.

He can’t remember the last time he shared a normal meal with someone. He ate in front of the kid but he always kept the helmet on, it would have been years and years ago, maybe with his parents.

He finds the latch for his helmet, tossing it aside, he’s already decided he won’t be putting it back on tonight, he chews his food thoughtfully. What would life look like with you after this place? He certainly wouldn’t want to eat dinner like this every night.

Maker, why won’t you just look? Everything would be easier if you’d just look. He would abandon his creed entirely if that’s what you wanted. Instead he loves the one person in the galaxy who doesn’t want to look.

“You’re being quiet.” You finally break the silence as he sits up a little straighter.

“I’m always quiet.” He murmurs.

“You think I don’t know that? You’re being extra quiet, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He takes another bit as you lean back against him, resting your back on his as he hears you set your plate aside.

“You’ve been quiet all day.” Of course he has, he has to leave you tomorrow and you’ve been in a white dress all day.

“I’m quiet every day.” He finishes his food quickly, reaching around blindly until he finds your plate, standing to set the both outside the room, when he turns around this time he faces you, kneeling on the floor behind you as he plays with the lace on the back of the dress, lining a series of buttons in a straight line down your spine.

“You’re avoiding the point.” You snap at him but he just continues to trail his fingers across the intricate patterns of your dress.

“I’m just gonna miss you, that’s all.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Your tone has softened.

“Want me to show you how much I’m gonna miss you?” He gives the back of your gown a teasing tug.

“That might be nice.” You’re already reaching towards the lamp but he takes your hand, guiding it back into your lap.

“Leave it.”

“Din…” You have a soft warning tone as he kisses your exposed shoulder.

“Please, I want to see you.” He murmurs against your skin as he bunches up the fabric of your dress, pulling it up towards your hips.

“But-” He’s quick to cut you off.

“It’s fine, if you don’t look then you won’t see.” He swiftly unlatches his armor, setting it aside as he pulls you into his lap, his chest flush with your back. He turns to kiss your cheek, watching your eyes flutter shut as he does.

He bunches up your skirt enough so he can see your thighs, pulling his gloves off so he can touch you, he likes the feeling of his skin on yours, how often does he get to have this? Only ever with you, not that he’d have it any other way. You’re just so soft, he likes the way you feel when he spreads your thighs a little wider, watching your mouth open a tiny bit as you inhale sharply. He’s already terribly hard, trying not to rut against your ass as he lets one hand dip between your legs, under your skirt, as the other one drifts up towards your chest, splayed out across your sternum to keep you in place.

He pushes your panties to the side, admiring the wetness he finds already there as he swipes his fingers along your seam. He tilts his head to the side, eager to watch your expression unburdened by his helmet as he pushes two fingers into you.

Once he’s in your peripheral you close your eyes, leaving him to observe the way your mouth falls open as he gently slides his digits in and out, feeling you shift in his lap to grind against his palm.

He’s fascinated by you, by the way you move in sync with him, with each movement of his hand you match it with a rock of your hips, or by arching your back.

“Din-” Your voice comes out as a high strangled cry that makes his cock ache against the fabric of his flight suit.

“Go ahead, I wanna watch.” He mumbles as he presses his cheek to yours, staring down, mesmerized by the sight of you riding his fingers, his own mouth falling open as he feels your entire body tense up, feeling you clamp down on his fingers as you come. He keeps his fingers inside of you until your breathing evens out, once you come down from your orgasm he removes them, bringing them to his mouth as he uses his other hand to reach between the two of you, pulling his cock free. He stares down at the sight of himself against the pretty white fabric of your dress as he moans against his own fingers, stroking himself for a moment before popping his digits out of his mouth, grabbing your hips and lifting you a bit.

He lets out a small groan as your hands reach down to line him up at your entrance, he lets go of your hips, letting you sink yourself down onto him, his hands wrapping around your thighs instead, squeezing the meat there with a pleased hum.

You’re going at your own pace as he fights his own impatience, doing his best to not thrust up into you as he latches his mouth onto your shoulder, biting softly as you take nearly all of him, gasping his name the entire time.

After another moment you’re fully sat in his lap, your breathing heavy as one of his hands moves from your thigh to your clit.

“Can you come again? Like this?” He rasps the words out against your skin, you nod as he begins to swirl his fingers in small precise circles, his moans match your own as he feels you slowly lift yourself off of him, your chest bouncing as you fuck yourself on him.

Gods as his witness he’ll never wear his helmet again during sex.

It’s just better to really see you like this, he can’t believe he deprives himself of this so often, the way your body trembles, the sounds you make, everything is simply better without the filters and the modulation.

“Maker- Din!” Your strained plea snaps him out of his thoughts as he looks at your face, your eyes and nose scrunched up in frustration. “Please, fuck me, Din please.” You always sound so sweet, at this rate he’ll never be able to say no to you.

He sits up a little to give himself more leverage, one arm wrapped around your waist to steady you, his other hand reaching behind himself to prop himself up as he thrusts up into you. His hips snapping up as he grits his teeth, a growl forming in his throat. He keeps you there for a bit, keeping up a brutal pace as he lets gravity do most of the work, bouncing you on his length, eventually relaxing after feeling your legs give out from under you. He sits back up on his knees, steadying you with both bands now, keeping you impaled on his cock as he leans forward, kissing up the column of your throat.

“Kiss me, please.” He murmurs against your jaw, desperate for more of you as he lets out a low whine, wishing you would just look at him.

Your eyes shut as you turn your head to kiss him, he brings one hand up to your face, his other still on your stomach as he groans, rocking his hips upwards again.

“You can look.” He pants, holding his forehead to yours as he stares at your face, contorted in pleasure as he pushes himself deeper into you, watching the way your eyes flutter a bit, never actually opening.

“I- I can’t.” You gasp out as he fucks up into you, short shallow thrusts, relishing in the way you take him, squeezing his cock with every rock of his hips, the way your face looks as he leans in for another kiss, quick and chaste, a sharp juxtaposition to how he’s fucking you, only pulling out in the slightest before slamming back into you.

“You can, I want you to.” His voice is ragged and desperate at this point.

“I will, just, not tonight.”

“Ni vercopaanir gar Ru'kel haa'taylir.” I wish you would look.

“I will, Din- I promise I will.” He’s sure you didn’t learn enough to know what he said but he’s still satisfied with that answer.

“Okay.” He kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he picks up the pace, pulling you down onto him as he rocks his hips upwards. He manipulates your body like it’s nothing, his hands holding you tightly enough to keep you upright as he continues to slam himself into you, you’re soaking his cock at this point as he muffles his grunts with your mouth. He knows you’re both nearly there, with the way your words become nonsensical. He turns his head to whisper into your ear. “Come for me, sarad.” He groans, his mouth falling open as a slew of filthy noises fall past his lips he feels you pulse around him, he frantically goes to pull out but you shake your head no, slamming your hips back against his and riding out your orgasm he watches you mumble, barely coherently.

“In- Inside, Din.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. You give him the sweetest cry as he bites down on your shoulder, he growls against your flesh as he releases the fire pooling in his stomach.

“Bid jate- bid jate par ni.” So good for me. He mumbles against your shoulder.

He fucks his cum deeper into you with a few more sloppy thrusts before sitting back on his heels, staring at the ceiling as his chest heaves, letting you rest back against him as you go limp in his arms.

Once he’s caught his breath he leans back, keeping himself inside you as he kicks his legs out. He swallows, still a little unsteady as you sit up, one of his hands wanders to you back, drawing a star there with one of his fingers.

“Are you okay?” He whispers softly just before you lay back on top of him.

“Why do you do that?” He doesn’t stop you this time as you reach over and turn the lamp off, taking his hands and guiding him to turn the both of you onto your sides as his erection softens inside of you.

“Do what?” He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the darkness and biting back a groan as you adjust yourself to put your hips flush with his.

“You switch languages, usually when you’re near the end, or when you say something kind.”

Oh.

He’s never really thought about that.

“How did you know what I said?” He brushes a bit of hair behind your ear as he runs his hand down and up your spine slowly.

“I asked my question first.”

“Fair enough. I guess it just happens, I’ve never really thought about why. I suppose it’s just another layer of armor, another way to conceal things.” You don’t respond, presumably thinking over his response. “Your turn, how did you know what I said?”

“I guessed.” Smart girl.

“Of course you did.” He places a kiss against the back of your neck before resting the bridge of his nose there. “Do you wanna sleep like this?” He rocks his hips a bit to accentuate his point, drawing a gasp from you.

“Yes, please.” You whisper back.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles before closing his eyes, wrapping his arms around you, the last thing he feels before falling asleep is you intertwining your fingers with his.

☆

He wakes up before you, careful to leave you undisturbed as he reaches over to turn on the lamp, happy to just watch you for a few more minutes before he leaves. Watching the rise and fall of your chest. After a moment he realizes he slipped out of you while he slept.

He’s in no rush but he knows the moment you wake he’ll have to go so he stays still for a while, enjoying the morning quiet until your eyes slowly open, and you stretch your arms with a groan.

“Good morning, sarad.” He says softly, kissing your shoulder as you shudder at the sensation.

“You’re leaving.” You whisper to him.

“I am.”

Much to his surprise you turn to face him, of course he realizes a second too late that your eyes are closed.

“Be safe.” You murmur, taking his face in your hands before kissing him. Maybe this will be a happy morning despite his worries about going.

“Always.” He gives you another kiss before sitting up, dressing himself quickly, looking over at you every so often only to find that your eyes are closed until you hear the soft hiss of his helmet.

“I’m serious, you better be careful.” You sit up and face him as he kneels beside you.

“I will, I promise.” He holds your face in one hand. “Goodbye, sarad’ika.” You give him a radiant smile.

“Ret'urcye mhi, cyare.” Goodbye, beloved. That’s what you’d been learning yesterday. He’s a little taken aback by the sound of those words leaving your mouth, his own smile forming.

“Jate bora” Good job.

He doesn’t tell you how poorly you pronounced each of those words, too infatuated to care as he leans down, lifting his helmet enough to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”

“Okay.”

He uses his free hand to gently grab your chin, giving you one last kiss.

“I’ll see you soon.” Once he’s shut the closet door he slips the fail safe box under your bed.

And just like that he’s out the door, on his way to the nearest shipyard.

☆

It goes surprisingly smoothly.

He’s only gone for about four days, he gets lucky as far as transportation goes, managing to catch a cargo ship going directly to the planet he’s looking for. He doesn’t recognize it and in all honesty he isn’t sure he’s ever been there but he finds the convert easily enough.

It took a bit of convincing but he got what he needed from the armorer and just like that he was catching a ship back to you with two rings attached to a thin chain around his neck.

He’s eager to see you immediately after landing but he’s filthy from the trip so he goes to the cabin first, shedding his armor and clothes before stepping into the fresher. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t started taking care of himself more after meeting you.

He’d avoided mirrors all together until you.

He’d shave when his beard got unmanageable. He’d cut his hair when it stuck out the back of his helmet. And that was it.

And then you came along and suddenly he was staring at himself in the dingy mirror he’s in front of now. The first day he realized he wanted to impress you he spent hours in the cabin fresher, trying to even out his facial hair, and give himself something that resembled a respectable haircut. He needs another one soon, staring at himself now he knows he’ll need to shave before he sees you but he can probably go a few more weeks without a haircut.

He’s pretty sure you like his hair long, even if you’ve never seen it, that’s the only reason he hasn’t just buzzed it all, the way he’d normally do it. You’re always touching it.

So he cleans up his beard before stepping into the shower, he’s in a hurry, scrubbing away the days of travel and grime. He finds a clean flightsuit and dons his armor as quickly as possible, his hair is still wet when he puts the helmet back on.

He makes a beeline towards the castle as the sun sets, the promise of you drives him forward despite his exhaustion.

He checks the library first, finding the nook to be empty. He goes to your chambers, if his count is correct you would have had dinner with Kodo yesterday, so if you aren’t reading you should be in your room. He’s pleased to see a nervous looking Leo outside your door, his eyes go wide as Din approaches.

He stops a few inches away from Leodall, looming over him.

“Everything went smoothly?” His voice is low and husky. His professional voice.

“Yes, of course.” He’s pretty sure Leo is too scared of him to lie so he gives him a curt nod of approval.

“Then you’re dismissed, thank you.” He really is thankful, despite his dislike for the twi’lek. He watches him scurry away before hastily pushing your door open, stepping inside to find you there.

You’re laying on your stomach, a book laid out on the bed in front of you. A look of anger crosses your face when you look up, assuming you’d find Leo in the doorway but once you see him you’re sitting up, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him.

“I missed you.” You mumble against his chest plate as he returns your embrace.

“It was only a few days.” He laughs softly as you look up at him. He’s just happy to be with you again.

“That doesn’t mean anything, I still missed you.” With the way you’re looking at him it’s a wonder he doesn’t get on one knee right now.

Instead he can’t help it as he yawns, he’d been in such a rush to return to you he’d barely slept during his trip.

“Are you tired?” Your brows furrow in concern as he shakes his head no.

“No, I’m fine, I’m just happy to see you.” He’s about to lift his helmet to kiss you, but you frown and pull him towards the closet. He isn’t entirely sure he’s going to be able to properly fuck you in this state but he’ll make it work. As you shut the door he starts taking off his armor and you turn to help him, carefully removing each piece until he’s in just his flight suit and helmet. You gently put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to the floor before kneeling beside him. He puts his hands on your waist and is a little surprised when you tenderly pull them away.

“Lay on your stomach.” You tilt your head to the side and he’s about to argue but you click your tongue and point at the blankets. “I let you disappear for a few days with no questions, you owe me, now lay down. And take off your flight suit.”

With a reluctant groan he does as he’s told, sliding his flight suit down to his waist, his confusion only growing as you straddle his back. His bewilderment vanishes though as he feels your hands kneading his shoulders. He’s about to flip himself over and tell you he’s fine but as he opens his mouth to complain you dig the heel of your palm into his back and instead a moan slips out.

He doesn’t make much of a fuss after that, letting you methodically take care of the many knots and tense spots across his back.

He turns his head to the side, closing his eyes as you hum a song to yourself, caressing and kneading every inch of visible skin until you’re satisfied. He feels you lean down, planting a kiss along his spine before climbing off of him and laying down beside him, he sits up with another rather embarrassing moan. He’s trying to flip you over to do you as you laugh, pulling him back down to lay with you.

“You need sleep.” You once again catch him off guard as he feels your fingers on the helmet release, the kiss of air accompanied by the click of the lamp as you remove his helmet, kissing his forehead.

“I missed you too.” He whispers into the darkness, realizing he hasn’t said it yet.

“I know you did, now get some sleep.” You pull his head down against your chest, squeezing his shoulder as you do. He really is exhausted, he hadn’t realized until he was reunited with you that he doesn’t sleep as well without you.

“I love you.” He sleepily mumbles against your chest.

No one takes care of him the way you do. Your soft hands continue to rub his back as he succumbs to sleep.

“I love you too.” He feels another kiss on his forehead as he exhales the last of his energy.

If he wasn’t so tired he probably would have proposed right then and there.

☆

Having the rings has made him a mess.

Anytime you do anything he just wants to ask. When you’d kissed him this morning, when you’d walked out of your room in a green dress grinning at him like you’d done it just for him, when you’d handed him the speeder maintenance book from before because you just knew he hadn’t read it last time.

And right now, as you read like you always do, sitting beside him.

Now more than ever he wants to ask.

He had wanted so badly for it to be special.

He was thinking of maybe doing it in the gardens some night, where he had kissed you for the first time. But you look exactly how he always wants you to look right now.

Your face buried in a romance book with a smile dancing on your lips.

Tucked away in the nook, safe from the world.

“How much of the Mando’a book did you end up reading?” He plays with the edge of the page he’s on now, he’s been pretending to read again, unable to pull his focus from you.

“The translation book? Not a lot.” He watches as you turn to give him a smile.

“Do you know what riduur means?” He knows you don’t, but he can’t stop himself from saying it.

“No, I don't think I learned that.” You close your book, staring at him curiously.

“It means partner, or spouse.”

“Oh. Okay…” Your eyes get a little bigger once he says that.

He gives you a nod before looking back down at his own book, silently cursing himself out for not going through with it. He hadn’t realized that having rings made would make him fall apart every time he’s in your presence.

You’re just so… perfect. Do you have to be so perfect? You learn his language and you respect him and you love him and you’re endlessly sweet.

He just wants to keep you like this forever.

Safe and happy.

That’s why he can’t help himself as he sets his book down, he fidgets with his helmet for a moment before turning off the modulator, he wants you to hear his voice without the filter, sitting up, he cradles your face in his hands.

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers.

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morning-star-joy · 1 year

Text

with your boots beneath my bed; forever is the sweetest con

a stranger's heart without a home chapter 20

Pairing: friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: The holidays arrive in Jackson, and you cherish your time spent with your loved ones.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Explicit Smut (18+ Only MDNI) unprotected p in v sex, creampie, praise kink. Mutual Pining (resolved), Language (fucking is an adjective).

A/N: I won't make this too long, but holy fucking shit you guys. It's here. We did it. There's still the epilogue left, and many more stories to be told from this one, but thank you guys so much for all the love you've shown to this fic that I hold so dear.

Wordcount: 13.6k

chapter 1 || chapter 19 || chapter 20 || masterlist

ao3 link

You were, for all intents and purposes, fucked.

Fucked in quite the literal sense of the word, hardly spending a night where you weren’t in Joel’s bed, or he in yours.

Fucked in the way that you woke up each morning completely wrapped up in him, not knowing a part of yourselves that wasn’t intertwined, or an inch of your soul that wasn’t now marked by him.

Fucked in how the first thing he would do when he woke up would be to turn over, breaking your hold on him from behind to smile lazily at you, brighter than the sunlight that filtered through the windows to dance across his face.

Slowly, you came to know each line etched on his face, each wrinkle and scar as your eyes traced them every morning. Old and weathered, tired and weary, but so achingly familiar to you now that you couldn’t imagine waking up without it.

But you think your favorite thing to do, the thing that fucked you the most, was faking sleep just so you could count his breaths until he awoke. Focusing on keeping your eyes closed, your own breathing deep and even, you would pretend to be unaware of Joel’s fingers as they lightly traced your own face, memorizing you the same way you did him when he thought you weren’t aware.

It was always a gentle, featherlight touch. Hardly even there, but you felt it.

You knew.

And it made you ache so deeply, so completely, your heart racing underneath your bare skin as he caressed your cheek before pulling his hand away from you. You would listen to the sheets shift as he turned onto his back and waited for you to open your eyes.

When you did eventually open your eyes, faking a yawn before focusing on the side of his hardened, devastatingly handsome face with a smile, and he would smile back at you with just a glint of something knowing in his eyes, you wondered if he had actually been in on this little secret of yours all along.

Yeah, completely fucked.

One morning, you really did wake up after him, stretching your limbs across the bed, legs bumping against his as you rolled over onto your other side. At your motion, you heard the mattress shift behind you before you felt Joel’s hands slide up your curves and around your waist, pulling you back into him at the same moment his face buried into your neck.

You hummed, feeling your body wake up to him before your mind did, pressing your ass back into where you could feel his hardening dick poking against your thighs.

That hum quickly turned into a light, breathless moan as Joel’s thick fingers spread across your stomach, inching lower and lower until they were gliding across your folds, taking his time caressing you gently, teasing you with each pass over your clit until you were squirming, begging him for more in a delirious half-asleep state.

Only then did his thumb find your clit, rubbing slow, steady circles across it until you were shaking from the gentle warmth of an orgasm he coaxed out of you when his fingers slipped into you. That climax was followed by another, and another, as Joel continued to simply revere in the moment, leisurely dissolving you into a mewling, moaning mess in a way that only he knew how.

You were so fucked out, mouth agape with pleasure as you panted against the pillow, that the familiar stretch of his cock sliding into you pulled a broken, strangled cry from your throat.

Joel stopped instantly, hand spreading across your stomach in a gentle manner that assured you of his warmth, his comfort, as his mouth found your ear from where he was still pressed to you from behind.

“You okay?” he whispered, and you shivered at the intimacy, biting your lip as you grabbed the pillow. “Do you—”

“Gimme—” you gasped, eyes rolling back into your head as you fell back into him, melting into his embrace as you adjusted to the feeling of him partially inside of you, giving a nod once you were ready and aching for more. “Good. I’m good.”

Joel still took another moment, his lips pressing a gentle kiss on a sensitive spot behind your ear, and you shivered as the action sent butterflies racing through your stomach. You didn’t have a moment to ponder on those feelings he always managed to stir from you, more and more lately, as he slid the rest of the way in until his cock was fully seated inside of you.

You bit your lip harder, forcing yourself to keep quiet so you could hear every catch of his breath, every quiet moan and toe-curling whimper that left his lips as he began to fuck into you. His thrusts were slow, lazy, just enjoying the feeling of being inside you first thing in the morning.

Joel’s forehead pressed to your shoulder as he began to groan and whimper louder, unabashed, too lost in the heady atmosphere of the early morning coupled with the feeling of your cunt surrounding him, warming and fulfilling him in the best way.

When words began to pour from his lips, they finally drew sounds from you, your own whining and whimpering as you began to roll your hips back against him, ready for another orgasm. At your movement, Joel’s hand on your stomach that was holding you steady snaked back down between your thighs, playing with your clit as your head tipped back and you gasped from the build of another orgasm, having lost count of how many he had given you that morning.

“Fuck, I wish I could fill you up,” were the nearly incoherent words that came tumbling from his lips, and you moaned, loud and desperate, moving faster to meet both his thrusts from behind you and his fingers in front of you, trapped between him in the best possible way, as he quickly tugged you forward to dangle over the edge of ecstasy. “You’d look so good full of me.”

Joel continued to pant and groan, his face pressed against the side of yours, breath warming your cheek as you reached behind you to grab his hair, keeping him there as the sentiment he had never dared to speak aloud shot straight to your throbbing clit underneath his fingers. “I wanna see my cum dripping from your pussy and down your legs, wanna see you—Jesus. ”

“Please.”

The word slipped from your lips before you could even think better of it. Still lost in the state between carnal pleasure and being asleep, helpless to the peaks of ecstasy he kept delivering to you, you began to beg for the very thing you both knew you could never do.

He whispered your name then—a plea, a warning.

“Joel, please,” you whimpered, feeling his hips stuttering, knowing what was about to happen and oh god, oh fuck, somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t but it would feel so good, so fucking good to have his cum filling you up and oh Jesus you were about to cum again, you were—

He stopped.

“We—” he gasped, and the feeling of him still hard inside of you with no additional warmth served as a sign that he hadn’t released yet.

You were nearly crying now, both from the intense pleasure and from him stopping, even as you knew he had done the right thing, so you could both gather yourselves enough to slip out of the delicious sleepy haze you were in and not fuck yourselves over—quite literally.

“We can’t,” Joel whispered, lips brushing against your cheek in what was almost a chaste kiss if it wasn’t open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of sweat on your skin. He rested his lips there and murmured against your skin, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than to you, “We can’t.”

“I know,” you panted, fingers tangling in his curls, keeping his face pressed to your cheek as you repeated yourself the same way he just did. “I know.”

Joel found enough self-control then to fuck you just enough so you could cum again—more, just give me one more, mi luna—before he pulled out of you, and you listened to the sounds of his grunting from where his face was still pressed to the side of yours, his facial hair scraping pleasantly against your skin, feeling the warmth of his cum as it coated your back when he finally found release.

You didn’t acknowledge the fleeting desire for him to cum inside you—a longing you had both felt—after that other than a breathless joke from you as he finally lifted his head, “Fuck the lack of contraceptives in the apocalypse.”

The words earned a quiet, shaky laugh from Joel before he found enough strength to push himself from the bed so he could get ready for your aftercare.

And that was that. Just another easy, warm morning that you were getting far too used to.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that now that you had found a spot in his bed, you would never leave.

Outside of the comfort of your lazy early mornings in bed with Joel, December arrived in Jackson, bringing the deep chill of winter right to your doorstep.

Just a year ago, you had nearly despised this time of year. The holidays were a reminder of how much you had suffered, bringing to the front of your mind the indescribable grief of everything you had lost in life.

Now you could walk the streets without hating the sense of cheer you felt lingering around every corner. You would watch the children spinning and playing in the first snowfall of the season with a fond smile, cherishing the memories they brought to mind of those days when you and your sister would build small snowmen in the Seattle QZ.

Surely they were destroyed by FEDRA soldiers on patrol when the next morning rolled around. But you had been content to create something, to leave your tiny mark on the world with her. Even if its existence was only for a small moment, just one blink of finite happiness in infinite time.

It also seemed that you were content to create more small moments of happiness this winter.

Inside the warmth and safety of your best friend’s home one afternoon, you were blinking at him in surprise, no small amount of skepticism in your voice as you repeated what he had just told you.

“A Secret Santa party?”

“Yup!” Tommy grinned, giving a nod to emphasize his confirmation as he leaned back on the couch next to you.

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned, rubbing your hands down over your face, though your words were more teasing than truly exasperated as you asked, “Why are you so obsessed with these parties?”

“Besides the fact that they’re fun? Sorry if you’ve never heard of it,” he teased you right back, leaning over to gently nudge you in the shoulder with his own. “Actually, the holiday party was Maria’s idea.”

“But the Secret Santa part was yours,” you replied simply, not needing to hear it from him to know that it was the truth.

Still, you dropped your hands from your face to look at his own, satisfied by how you could see that you were right, just judging by the proud grin that brightened up his whole face as he talked of the idea.

“So why am I here, then?” you asked with a sigh, arching an inquisitive brow as your eyes narrowed at him in playful suspicion. “You are not having it at my house.”

Tommy waved off the little bit of concern that was hidden in your joke, and you relaxed only minutely before he reached over the armrest of the sofa and grabbed something off the ground before holding it out towards you.

You stared down at the hat filled with tiny scraps of paper with a gentle scoff before asking, “Damn, Tommy, how many people are you even inviting to this thing?”

“Not too many,” he answered with a shrug, holding out the hat further, trying to tempt you to take one and find out who you were getting a gift for at this party. “Patrolmen, mainly. The teens. A few other people.”

“Then why are there so many—”

“Just grab one!” he interrupted you, shaking the papers around in the hat before nearly shoving it in your face, and you gave an over-exaggerated groan before snatching one.

You fell silent then, staring down at the name written on the small scrap after you unfolded it, your heart racing just at the familiar shape of the letters before you narrowed your eyes up at your friend.

His lips were twitching, a telltale sign he was holding back a smile as his eyes glimmered with a well known mirth, and you lifted a finger to point at him accusingly.

“Do all of these fucking little papers of yours say Joel?”

“Oh, you got Joel?” Tommy brightened as that grin finally broke through onto his face, and you glared at him as you tried to grab for the hat to see if your theory was correct right as he pulled it out of your reach. “No, you don’t! You’ll ruin the holiday magic!”

“Fuck your holiday magic, asshole!” you snapped, still trying to grab the hat as he continued to hold it out of your reach, but it didn’t take long for your laughter to join his cheerful chuckling, even as you added, “You tricked me!”

But you couldn’t stop laughing now, even as you began to wonder just what you had allowed your closest friend to get you into this time.

It was a question you continued to think about later that night, curled up under your blankets as you tried to warm yourself up from the chilly air inside your home at this time of year.

Head against the pillow, you ran through ideas of what to get Joel for a gift, all while also trying not to wonder why he had been so late coming over every night the past week. You were startled to realize that you had almost forgotten what it was like not to see his face as not only the last thing before you fell asleep, but also the first thing when you woke up.

Trying to fall asleep alone now felt like a lost cause, and you only relaxed when you heard the sound of your back door creaking open from down the hallway. Shifting slightly, you listened with growing anticipation to the footsteps echoing through your kitchen, down the hall and towards your open bedroom door.

Hiding a smile against your pillowcase, the confusing stirring of emotions in your chest began to calm when you felt the bed dip underneath his weight, listening to the sound of him pulling his boots off to fall onto the floor, followed by the rustling of his clothes before Joel slipped under the sheets beside you.

You gave it a few moments, letting him settle before you turned over, inching closer to him in a pretend haze of sleep. When you were close enough to feel his body heat radiating towards you, you couldn’t resist taking it one step further, wrapping your arm around his torso as your cheek pressed against his back.

Just because it’s cold, you continued to blatantly lie to yourself, just like you did every time you found yourself wrapping your arms around him when you were in bed like this. He’s warm, and it’s cold. That’s it.

When Joel’s hand found yours from where it had subconsciously rested against the scars on his abdomen, his fingers intertwined with yours sending your heart racing and chest aching, your entire body shivering at the quiet intimacy of the action, you knew that it had fucking nothing to do with the cold.

“Warm,” you found yourself mumbling anyway, curling yourself around him even more, legs tangling with his as you sighed softly, a sound that was followed by his own quiet hum while you continued to ramble, “You’re warm.”

“You’re fucking cold,” Joel muttered, and you laughed softly, listening with fondness as his own quiet chuckle echoed your amusement.

“And whose fault is that?”

The teasing words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and you froze up from uncertainty at the sentiment, self-conscious that you had let him know that you had been missing him.

Because, fuck, you had been missing him.

Hardly even a few weeks since you had truly started sharing your bed with him, and just a few days without him in it left you aching to see him again. Aching for him.

Joel shifted in your arms, turning over to face you, and you kept your face stubbornly turned away from him, even as your heart skipped a beat feeling him so close to you now.

“Should I fix that?” he murmured in a low, husky tone that only meant one thing, and you shivered for an entirely different reason than the winter chill as his arms looped around you.

One of his hands slipped under your oversized shirt you wore for sleep, sliding up your back to pull your body against his. You couldn’t resist a quiet moan just from the feeling of him pressed to you, soaking in his warmth as he rolled you over onto your back.

God, the feeling of Joel’s solid weight on top of you was always fucking delicious, and you were helpless but to melt into him as he began to kiss down your neck, his lips followed by gentle nips of teeth and his tongue darting out to soothe whatever marks he was leaving on your skin.

“People will see,” you tried to protest, even though you found yourself hardly caring in that moment when he shifted his hips, pressing his hardening erection right against your clothed cunt.

“Let them,” he whispered into your ear, and you whimpered, fingers sliding up his neck to tangle in his hair, giving it a tug just to hear that grunt of desire from him that never failed to make your panties damp with your own desire.

It didn’t take long before you were both naked, limbs completely tangled, wrapped up in each other as Joel took his sweet time fucking you that night. His hands never stopped caressing you, and you didn’t stop touching him either, fingers dancing across every inch of his skin, revering in his warmth as he thrusted into you, so slowly that it was almost lazy.

“God, so fucking hot,” Joel grunted into your ear, thumbs pressing to your inner thighs as he gripped your hips, holding you steady as he continued to fuck you languidly, almost sensually. “You feel so hot around me, darlin’. So tight and wet. Never gonna get tired of being inside you. Fuck.”

“Faster,” you begged as the slow, dwindling build of pleasure became too much, desperate for a release as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, and Joel groaned as he assented to your request without a second thought.

Your gasps joined the sound of skin slapping against skin, filling the air that was quickly heating up around you. You grabbed Joel's back, nails digging into his skin, and he moaned, forehead falling against your pillow next to your head, his panting right next to your ear making your clit throb.

“Need your fingers, Joel, I need—”

The words tumbling from your mouth quickly turned into a cry of pleasure as Joel lifted his hips just enough to snake one hand in between you, rubbing his thumb over your clit so quickly that your thighs began to shake, back arching up into his body as it only took a few more minutes before you were moaning his name over and over through an orgasm.

It seemed he couldn’t hold on long afterwards as he was soon moaning your own name, his lips pressed to your ear when he pulled out, pumping his cock as his hot cum landed on your lower stomach and trembling thighs.

You shivered at the sound of your name leaving his lips in the heights of pleasure, fingers still tangled in his hair as he struggled to hold himself above you, both your chests heaving in pants from the exertion.

“Warm now?” Joel asked, bumping his nose against your cheek, and you laughed breathlessly, but for an entirely different reason than from the sex as the action sent butterflies you had only ever felt around him fluttering through your stomach once again.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving a lazy nod and a quiet sigh of relief from how truly warm you felt all over, physically and emotionally, sinking back into the mattress as he finally slipped out of bed to get ready for your aftercare.

After he was done cleaning you up, and he climbed back into bed, you found yourself in the rare circumstance where Joel was the big spoon, his arms circling around your waist as his face buried in your neck.

It was borderline affectionate, and those goddamn butterflies started up in your stomach again, eyelids growing heavy with the overwhelming comfort of Joel completely surrounding you, holding you securely in his arms before you heard him say something.

“Hm?” you hummed, blinking a few times to try and wake yourself back up.

Joel chuckled quietly, his nose pressing underneath your jaw as he repeated himself, “You never told me about your secret hobbies.”

A surprised laugh left you, eyes still shut from relaxation, but not as tired as before as you considered the words. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, still rubbing the slope of that strong, handsome nose along the edge of your jawline, and you sighed quietly, happily. “I just want to know you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a breath stuttering from your lungs in the same moment your eyes snapped open, suddenly wide awake at the vulnerable sentiment because, fuck.

You had known for a while that you wanted Joel to know you, all of you, but the fact that he wanted to know you in that way too…

Swallowing thickly, you didn’t even think twice before whispering, “Photography.”

Joel paused in his gentle ministrations of nuzzling his face against your skin, stilling for a moment before replying softly, “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks heat as you once again found yourself sharing a fact about yourself with Joel that nobody else knew. “Back in Seattle, I had an instant camera. God, I spent so much time just searching for film for that thing.”

“I haven’t noticed your photos,” he said quietly, the first time he had remarked on how empty your home was in terms of decorations, and you frowned.

“There wasn’t room to take much with us when we joined the Fireflies,” you whispered, and Joel’s arms tightened around your waist, holding you closer at the mention of the rebel group. “I only took a couple things with me. Things that wouldn’t take up much space.”

Joel hummed, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the rumble of the gentle sound from where his chest was pressed to your back.

Sighing softly, you allowed sleep to begin to creep up on you once more, hardly hearing as Joel asked another question, “Would you ever go back?”

“To Seattle?” you mumbled, yawning before you buried your face deeper into your pillow, breaths evening out even as you managed to reply, “Don’t need to. Got everything I need here.”

If Joel said anything else after that, you were already asleep before you could hear it.

You stood awkwardly at the edge of the room, feeling as guilty as a sinner in a house of worship.

Because, well, you currently were a sinner in a house of worship.

Most times, you tended to avoid the church in Jackson—in fact, the only time you could really remember actually spending time in the large room was for the Halloween dance.

But you weren’t standing here now, surrounded by prayers of the faithful being whispered to higher powers, for yourself.

Even though she had asked you to go with her, you didn’t want to intrude on Dina’s moment of peaceful remembrance. You didn’t know the first thing about any religion, so you found yourself hovering a distance away as she sat with her head bowed, hoping that your presence offered some kind of comfort to her, since she had wanted you to be there.

“It’s Hanukkah,” she had told you when she showed up on your doorstep, shifting awkwardly and avoiding your gaze as if she expected you to ever be able to say no to her. “My sister used to drag me out to a synagogue for it so, I don’t know…I wanted to say some prayers.”

The mention of her sister that she had lost made you soften instantly, and you took less than a minute to lace up your shoes and grab your scarf before you were out the door and following her to the church.

You knew that you weren’t a replacement for Dina’s older sister, just like she wasn’t a replacement for your younger sister. But there was still that rare feeling of peace whenever the young girl was at your side, a sense of belonging from the purpose that you could protect her from harm and make her happy in any way you could.

When Dina looked up and met your gaze now, giving you that bright smile that could light up any room she entered, you knew that although she wasn’t the sister you had lost, she was another one that you had gained.

“I said a prayer for your sister,” Dina said quietly when you exited the church, the brisk winter breeze brushing past you and making the two of you huddle closer together while you walked the streets. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You softened immediately, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to tug her into your side. Placing a quick kiss on the top of her head, you squeezed her shoulder as you whispered, “Of course I don’t mind, Dina. Thank you for doing that.”

She smiled up at you again, the living and breathing personification of the sun that eluded the world this time of year, and you smiled back down at her with a laugh as she playfully shoved you away at your rare show of affection.

“Alright, alright,” she sighed dramatically, stretching her arms over her head and punching your shoulder gently before pointing in the direction of her favorite spot for lunch, and you led the way, not even knowing that Dina would gladly follow you anywhere you went.

Then you were standing at the edge of a room again, feeling out of place in one of your safest spaces as attendees of Maria’s holiday (and begrudgingly Tommy’s Secret Santa) party filtered through the door and down the hallways of the home.

Soft music drifted through the house from a record player you recognized as Joel’s set up in the corner of the living room, even as the man was nowhere to be seen.

You really, really tried to stop looking for him, but you just couldn’t stop your head from whipping around in the direction of the front door whenever it opened, only for your shoulders to sink, completely deflating from the anticipation of seeing him every time somebody who wasn’t him walked by.

Taking another sip from the drink you had already refilled twice in your hands, you gently tugged mindlessly at one of the earrings dangling from your ears, not used to the feeling of wearing any sort of jewelry.

But it had been a gift from Maria before the party, along with the dress you now wore as you loitered on the outskirts of the jovial gathering.

“You looked gorgeous in red,” she had said kindly when you opened up the box, staring down at the smooth velvet fabric of the simple, yet elegant burgundy dress with wide eyes. “And I wanted to dress up, so you have to do it with me.”

This dress was considerably more comfortable than the one you wore to the Halloween party, and you were much fonder of how it hugged your curves without leaving little to the imagination in length and tightness. The fabric flowed down to your mid-calf, and you enjoyed the way the soft fabric felt swishing against your legs whenever you turned towards the front door as soon as you heard it opening.

When another person who was very much not Joel walked in, you began to hate the way you deflated each time, instead moving along the outskirts of the living room towards the kitchen, but not without fondly tapping your fingers against the surface of the fireplace mantle in front of the family memorial, as if to say a quick hello to your departed loved ones as you passed.

In the kitchen, you were surprised to find Dina and Ellie huddled together with…Tommy?

“And what’s going on here?” you drawled, watching with curiosity as the three jumped, all turning towards you in the same instant with faces that screamed they had just been caught red-handed.

“Nothing!”

“Cookies!”

“Existential crisis.”

You looked from one face to the next as they all shouted out answers at the same time, Tommy to Dina to eventually Ellie. You rose a brow at the latter’s cheeky response that brought a smile to your face, amused by the mischief in the girl’s eyes, shining brightly while the other two tried to hide whatever they had been scheming.

“Uh-huh,” you said slowly, giving a nod as you moved forward to grab a cookie from a plate. Slightly burnt around the edges, no doubt a sign of one of Jesse’s masterpieces as he tried to help Dina bake once again. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“You’re forgiven!” Dina and Ellie chirped at the same time before shuffling past you, and you didn’t miss the way Dina kept her body facing you the entire time she passed you, her hands fixed behind her back before she turned quickly and scuttled out of the room, giggling with her friend.

Turning back to Tommy, you arched an eyebrow, glancing over his grin with a quiet groan.

“The fuck are you planning?”

Tommy gave a quiet mock gasp, a sign he had probably spent too long with Dina, concocting up whatever dastardly plan you were starting to suspect they had—and if the two of them were teamed up, you were most likely the target of whatever it was they hoped to achieve.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Tommy teased as he walked past you, picking up a cookie himself to raise it towards you in some kind of salute before taking a bite out of it and heading out of the kitchen, and you groaned again, louder this time with a roll of your eyes.

Those people, your chosen family that you loved so much, would surely end up being the death of you one day.

Snow crunched under Joel’s boots as he hurried down the street towards Tommy’s house, holding the poorly wrapped gift tightly in both his hands and cursing under his breath at how late he was.

He had wanted to put the finishing touches on it, telling Ellie that he would be right behind her when she poked her head into his workshop and told him that she was heading out to the party. She had shot him a look that he pointedly ignored as he continued to work, listening to her sigh before heading back down the stairs and out the door.

Without somebody to keep him in check, though, he had completely lost track of time, and ended up wrapping up the present pretty fucking terribly before rushing to his brother’s doorstep. His cheeks were completely flushed from the cold, the exertion from running, and perhaps a bit of apprehension for the reaction of the recipient of the gift when they opened it.

Tommy had simply patted a fond hand on Joel’s shoulder when he opened the door, giving a wide smile before ushering the older man into the house, hardly giving him a moment to take off his jacket and hang it up before he was ushered into the living room.

There were a few hellos exchanged with the patrolmen he tolerated the most before Tommy tried to tug the gift out of Joel’s hands, and he quickly pulled it back, holding it close to his chest as he murmured, “No, I got it.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, lifting his hands in surrender as he took a step back before gesturing towards a table in the corner where the various presents had been piled for the party.

“By all means, be my guest,” Tommy said with a sly smirk that made Joel’s eye twitch.

Shaking his head to himself, Joel walked over to the table, gently pushing a few of the other gifts to the side to ensure there was not only enough room for the one he had brought, but making sure that there was no way for it to get damaged in some kind of freak accident.

When Joel stepped back towards the wall of the room, his eyes were already moving through the small gathered crowd, anxiously rubbing his thumb over the old punching scars on his knuckles as he searched for the person he both longed and dreaded to see tonight.

At a flash of that familiar hair color, Joel shifted forward, already carefully making his way through the crowd with murmured apologies to whoever he was pushing past as he was helpless to do anything but make a beeline straight towards her.

Because, Jesus Christ.

She was beautiful.

It was only the second time he had seen her wear a dress, but Joel realized somewhere in his subconscious he hoped it wasn’t the last as he glanced over her, just taking her in as she talked to Maria in the dining room.

There was one of those small, rare smiles on her face, a show of fondness for her select few people as she talked to the other woman. And then she laughed and, fuck, he could recognize that sound in his sleep by now, but he would never get tired of hearing it.

Joel was drawn to it, drawn to her, like she was a force of gravity that he was helpless to fall into, unable to resist it even if he tried.

But he didn't want to try.

He didn’t want to resist anymore.

In fact, he thinks he gave up resisting long, long ago.

Joel wanted her, all of her, and with the way she had been opening up to him lately, holding him and allowing him to hold her in ways they never had before—God, he was starting to dare to hope that it may just be possible.

Then her head turned slightly, her eyes meeting his in the middle of a laugh, and the sound faded as he got trapped in her gaze.

Even with the absence of her laughter, there was still that hint of mirth in her eyes, an amusement that shifted in something warmer, something fonder as they looked at each other, and Joel couldn’t stop himself in his path straight towards her now.

He murmured a hello, and she said it right back, lips turned up in what was half a trademark smirk, half a smile that made his heart race as his eyes traced the curve of her mouth before looking back up at her eyes.

It was impossible to miss the faint flush to her cheeks on the way to meeting her gaze, though, and Joel fought back a smile that was twitching onto his lips, one that quickly fell when he heard a throat clearing right beside them.

“Joel,” Maria greeted, arching an eyebrow at him, and Joel immediately straightened, giving her a nod of respect.

“Maria,” he returned the simple acknowledgement, watching as his sister-in-law shot a smirk towards the woman Joel’s gaze was quickly drawn back towards before moving away to find her husband.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he was left alone with the very woman who had consumed all his thoughts and affection, watching as her gaze darted from him towards the drink in her hands, her head bowed in a way that was almost shy and so incredibly endearing to see on such a confident woman.

And the thought that he may have been the one to elicit such a bashful reaction, just from his presence alone?

Joel rose a hand to rub nervously over the growing beard on his chin, his own eyes averting from hers as he found himself mumbling, “Uh, you look—”

“Awkward?”

He glanced over at her in surprise, brows furrowing as he saw her eyes waver even with her face turned slightly away from him, shifting almost uncomfortably in her heels, and Joel automatically moved a few steps closer to her, finding a place by her side as his hand rose to subtly, gently graze his fingertips over her back.

The velvet fabric of the dress was soft under his touch, and he hummed, giving in to temptation and pressing his palm gently against the small of her back for just the briefest of moments as he dipped his head down to murmur next to her ear, “Beautiful.”

She froze up momentarily under his touch at the simple word, and Joel immediately pulled back, uncertainty and embarrassment flooding him in equal turns as he leaned back.

“Too much?” he asked quietly, eyes searching hers almost anxiously when she lifted her head to meet his gaze at the earnest question.

But then his breath was stolen from his lungs as he saw she was looking at him with nothing but open honesty, and there was no hint of rejection hidden anywhere in it, only a half-lidded longing that made Joel’s pulse quicken to see from her.

Her lips parted, and he looked down to see that same shade of lipstick she had worn before, on her date and at the dance. A thought passed through his mind then, wondering how that lipstick would look smeared across his mouth if he kissed her, again and again, because Lord knew if she allowed him to then he would never be able to stop.

Joel wondered if she could sense the direction of his thoughts as she leaned closer to him, her head tilting back as she caught his gaze once again. That longing in her eyes only deepened as she whispered, voice thick with a heat that didn’t have anything to do with lustful desire, “Not enough.”

His own mouth fell open then, and Joel stared at her, heart nearly pounding out of his chest at the two simple words that threw his entire life out of balance.

Then it was like all of a sudden, the pieces fell right back into place, and everything made so much more sense than ever before.

Her name slipped past his lips, and he watched her eyelashes flutter, the color of those enchanting eyes darker and, God, he was just about ready to give in to overwhelming temptation and claim her mouth with his then and there if it wasn’t for his brother’s voice echoing through the house from the living room.

Joel forced himself to lean back from her, glancing back over his shoulder to listen to Tommy announcing that the gift opening would now commence.

With a sigh, Joel took a step away from her. Then another, gesturing for her to enter the living room ahead of him, even as his hand trembled slightly from the thought of her opening the gift he had spent the last few weeks painstakingly carving until it was perfect.

He only hoped that that wasn’t too much, and dared to also hope even further that tonight just may be the night when he could finally feel how soft her lips were instead of imagining it every time he fell asleep with her arms around him.

Your hands were shaking as you reached for the gift that had your name carefully written on a tag that had been crudely tied to the very poorly wrapped present, a soft laugh leaving your lips at the sight of it.

Given Tommy’s scheming that you now began to realize had Dina and Ellie as accomplices, you had a very strong feeling who had gotten you this gift, and it was impossible to keep a smile from growing on your face as you found a chair on the edge of the room to sit and stare at the gift in your lap.

Raising your head up, you looked across the room for him, but the bulk of the crowd was now filling the living room, all excitedly chatting as they opened their gifts, and Joel was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh, you glanced back down at the gift, wondering if you should wait for him to be present before opening it.

But an impatient voice in your mind urged you on, saying that this was a Secret Santa party. You technically weren’t supposed to know who had given it to you, so you didn’t have to wait for him, right?

Besides, Joel had been right beside you before you walked into the living room. If he had wanted to see you open it, he would have stayed with you.

Somehow, you got the feeling that he may be almost embarrassed by whatever he had gotten you, so you found yourself biting your lip in anticipation as you struggled to pull the wrapping paper off of the box.

Your heart was racing, and you shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself as you repeated internally that it was just a gift, you were being silly. It didn’t have to mean anything.

But when you lifted the top of the box off, and saw what was inside, you truly lost the ability to form any coherent thoughts for a moment, unable to think anything other than a simple: oh.

Fingers trembling, you reached down into the box to pull out the smaller wooden box inside, glancing over it to try and take it all in, even as your eyes kept drifting back to the design carved on the lid.

Your fingers danced carefully along the ridges of the wood, tracing the moon and the stars in the center, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you sucked in a breath, trying to compose yourself even as you felt tears springing to your eyes.

It was beautiful. Intricately carved, with flowers engraved along the edges, but it was that celestial theme that you kept looking back to, your chest aching for him once again, stronger than ever before as you carefully lifted the lid to the box.

That ache only deepened further, a feeling you had thought impossible, as you saw words carefully carved to the inside of the lid.

You weren’t fluent in Spanish, but you had picked up some words here and there from Tommy, and you recognized estrellita along with the mi luna that Joel had taken up calling you—never too often, but every now and then it would slip past his lips, a quiet endearment when you found yourselves tangled together in bed, usually before drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

In the back of your mind, you remembered that first night Joel had called you it, how you had questioned him and he had only told you what luna meant.

What you hadn’t told him was that you already knew what the other word meant—mi.

My.

My moon.

He had called you his.

And, fuck, you were.

You were all his; heart, body and soul. Every part of you was a part of Joel and Jesus Christ, why had you been so dense for so long?

Deep down, you knew why—you had never felt like this for anybody before. It was terrifying, because not only did you hate being so out of your depth, but you were scared of what it meant.

Scared of letting yourself fall into it, into him, so completely, when there could never be a guarantee that one of you wouldn't end up leaving the other someday.

Not by choice—you knew by now you could never pull yourself away from his side—but by the cruel fucking hands of fate that clutched this sorry, ugly world in its unforgiving talons.

How could you live with yourself if you allowed this, only to lose him?

But with that small, elaborately carved box in your hand, the edges of the words underneath your fingertips—you realized you had already allowed yourself to fall into him.

It had happened so slowly that you hadn’t even known it. But now as you looked up, gaze searching through the crowd until you finally saw him, standing at the edge of the room opposite you, his familiar, comforting dark gaze already focused on you as you admired your gift…

You knew it was much too late to try and convince yourself it hadn’t already happened.

Joel immediately straightened against the other wall as your gaze met his, some look you didn’t recognize passing through his eyes before he turned, slipping away from the gathered group to head farther into the house, and you were already on your feet and moving after him before you could think twice.

Your steps slowed as you neared the kitchen, empty now except for him as you watched him place his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning over it in a way that was almost similar to how he had leaned against the streetlight a year ago, and you were walking forward instantly.

“Hey,” you said softly, and Joel jumped, glancing up from what you realized was the gift you had wrapped up for him, sitting on the counter in front of him, to you.

He stiffened, pushing himself off the counter to glance over you, brows furrowed before quickly looking away.

“Uh—” Joel cleared his throat, rubbing a thumb and forefinger across his mustache before nodding over at you. “Howdy.”

You laughed softly, moving to stand next to him as you carefully placed your box on the counter next to his wrapped gift.

“Somebody knows me well,” you said quietly, tapping a finger gently against the top of the box before smiling up at him, letting your fondness for him bleed through your expression, and you heard the audible intake of breath from Joel before he looked away again.

His mouth opened and then closed again, apparently at a loss for words as he shuffled his feet next to you, and your smile grew, overwhelmed with admiration for this man who had somehow completely captured your heart.

You gently nudged his own gift towards him with a finger, tilting your head so you could catch his gaze with another smile, and you watched Joel soften, something that made your smile only grow, butterflies surging through you at the sight of what you could do to such a hardened soul that you cherished so deeply with just one simple look.

“Go on,” you said quietly, tapping your fingers against his gift before pulling your hand back, turning to lean against the counter as you watched him. “Open it.”

Joel glanced over you for another moment before sighing, reaching out to take the box into his hand and unwrap it. It was almost as poorly wrapped as his own, and it took a bit of difficulty for him to get it off—so much so that you had to reach out your own hands to help him yourself, fingers dancing around his as you tried to peel the paper away with laughter bubbling from your throat.

Deeper laughter joined your own, and your eyes met Joel’s, the two of you sharing a smile until the box was finally freed. He looked down at it for a moment before slowly opening it, staring down at the contents for a moment before pulling out what was inside.

He gazed over the mug, falling quiet as his thumb brushed against the depiction of an owl on the side, and you watched anxiously for any expression that revealed his opinion about it, but his face was completely blank.

“Um,” you hedged, shifting awkwardly on your feet, and Joel blinked rapidly, almost as if pulling himself out of a stupor as he looked up to watch you ramble, “It’s just—you know, boring ass mugs and all that. Like, I know you’ve been getting different colored ones, but—ah, shit, I’m fucking bad at this.”

So distracted by your own spiraling, you didn’t notice Joel carefully set the mug back down on the counter, or see his hand as it began to reach for your waist.

“You have a lot of owl carvings,” you continued to stumble and stutter over your words, heart racing in your chest, fidgeting with your hands as you somehow talked a mile a minute without saying anything at all. “So I saw this one and thought, oh, hey, maybe Joel—”

The instant his name left your lips, his own were upon you, pressed gently but almost desperately to the corner of your mouth, and you gasped.

You were grabbing him before your mind could keep up, head turning to try and catch his lips by reflex, by a deep desire to finally have his mouth on yours, but he evaded your efforts. Instead Joel pressed kisses all along your cheek and up your face, rapidly kissing your forehead before moving back down the other side, reminding you of that first morning you had woken up in his bed.

“Joel,” his name slipped past your lips again in a sigh, nearly begging as he kissed the other side of your mouth. You tried to catch his lips again for a real kiss, but he was moving down, lips caressing the skin under your jaw and down your neck as he pressed you against the counter.

Your leg somehow ended up hooked around his waist as his hands slid down the back of your dress, bunching up the velvet fabric as he hummed against your skin at the soft gasps and quiet moans that left your lips that ached to be on his.

Opening your mouth to beg him to finally close that distance for good, you were quickly interrupted by a cheerful voice echoing through the kitchen, “Where did you two—oh, Jesus Christ, really?”

Joel pulled his mouth away from your neck, glancing over at Tommy standing in the archway of the room at the same moment you did.

You patted at Joel, trying to get him to let you go as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at your best friend catching you wrapped up in his brother’s embrace, but Joel only lowered your leg, adjusting your dress so you were decent without pulling himself away from you completely.

“In my kitchen?” Tommy continued, letting out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed a hand over his eyes and down his face. “For fuck’s sake, use your own!”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but respond almost on instinct with a mischievous, “Oh, we have.”

“Fucking—” Tommy shook his head, turning sharply on his heel as he left the room, but not without calling back over his shoulder, “Again—horny bastards!”

You laughed, ducking your face to try and hide your blush against Joel’s neck as you listened to the footsteps of your best friend recede.

Even when the two of you were alone again, you remained there a moment, fingers gripping the back of Joel’s flannel, breathing in the comforting scent of earth that wafted from his skin before you pulled back.

“Guess we should head back, huh?” you murmured, glancing over Joel’s face, biting your lip to hold back a smile when you saw his own cheeks were tinged slightly pink in the most endearing blush you had ever seen.

Joel glanced over your own face, reaching a hand up to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek before stepping back with a nod.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, seeming to struggle for a moment before finally tearing his gaze away from you. Picking up his mug, he held it carefully against his chest, returning your nod before mumbling, “Yeah, guess so.”

The smile finally broke free on your face, so you turned it away, trying to hide your growing giddiness, feeling fucking stupid to be so happy just from a stupid kiss that wasn’t even a real kiss. Your lips had yet to really touch Joel’s but, God, you were aching all over for it.

And tonight it seemed like you may finally get it.

Upon your return to the living room, you were stopped suddenly in the archway of the dining room, stumbling when somebody knocked into your side, sending you colliding into Joel, forcing his arm to reach out and circle around your waist to steady you.

“What the fu—”

Your affronted swearing cut off when you saw the back of Dina’s head as she ran past you, giggling as she found a spot by Ellie’s side next to the fireplace. The two girls grinned at you, a matching twinkle in their eyes as Ellie shot a finger gun to you and Joel, before slowly pointing it above you.

Joel stiffened instantly, but it took you a moment to catch up, glancing from the teens to the spot where Ellie was pointing and—

Oh.

You blinked a few times, staring at the small bunch of a green plant hanging in the archway above you, as if you were expecting it to be a hallucination that would disappear when you reopened your eyes.

But each time you blinked, it was still there, and your eyes widened before darting back down to Joel to see him looking at anything but you.

The pink on his cheeks had spread to his neck, and you immediately softened, glancing over the rare sight of thinly veiled nervousness accentuating the hard lines of that handsome face.

When he finally glanced back at you, his mouth opening to no doubt brush the circumstance aside, you were already leaning up, head tilting at the last moment to brush your lips in a gentle, featherlight kiss across the adorable blush on his face that quickly deepened in shade underneath the press of your lips there.

You lingered there, lips grazing across his cheek up to his ear to whisper, “Take me home, Joel.”

At your words, Joel’s grip on you tightened, a shaky breath leaving his lips as you pulled back. His eyes met yours, the brown of them so deep it felt never-ending, and your own breath caught in your throat as he nodded.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could register the eyes of your friends on you—and not just them. There were people watching as Joel’s hand remained firmly on the small of your back, gently directing you towards the front door, where he took his worn, brown leather jacket from the coat rack to lay across your shoulders, despite your protests that you had brought your own coat.

“Let them see,” was all he murmured, a familiar smug smirk twitching onto his lips, and your heart skipped a beat, desire sparking through your veins as you realized that Joel was subtly claiming you as his in front of all these people.

And, fuck, you were more than happy to let him.

In fact, the entire walk back to Joel’s house, that was all you could think of.

Pressed gently to his side as his hand slid underneath the jacket to remain on the small of your back; his.

The snow falling gently around you, landing on the silver in his hair as you secretly admired him whenever he wasn’t trying to sneak his own glances at you; his.

When he opened the door for you, standing back to allow you to go first, giving you a small, gentle smile as he looked at you with an anticipation that went past your usual hunger, an emotion that was far deeper than pure lust; his.

Joel directed you towards the living room, his hand only falling from your back as he murmured something about making you drinks, asking you to get a fire going before leaving you standing there in a whirlwind of your anticipation and longing to have him back with you as quickly as possible.

The request to make a fire almost made you laugh, reminding you of the patrol where you had fixed his dislocated shoulder, while you set about getting the fireplace ready. You remembered his cold demeanor then, and marveled at how he had completely warmed to you since, a warmth that settled into your bones even deeper than the one from the fire that you soon had going, setting the box he had carved for you on top of the fireplace mantle for now.

Joel still wasn’t back yet, and you were bound to start pacing anxiously if you didn’t do something with yourself, so you began to collect pillows and a few blankets off the furniture in the room, setting up a cozy little spot in front of the fire to sink down onto and wait for him.

Your face turned, eyes fluttering shut as you inhaled his comforting scent from his jacket that still rested around your shoulders, a smile growing onto your face as you shifted to pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly while you pressed your cheek on top of them.

Footsteps began to echo back down the hallway, and your heart raced in your chest, breathing picking up even though you hadn’t even seen him yet.

You waited for him to join you, but when the footsteps stopped at the entrance to the room, and a few beats passed, you glanced back over your shoulder to see what had made him pause.

But when you met Joel’s gaze, you saw that he had only been looking at you, that same depth to his eyes that you had seen under the mistletoe, and your stomach fluttered with those goddamn butterflies you were secretly growing more fond of as you looked at the mugs he held in his hands—a dark orange one for you, and the one with the owl that you had just gifted him.

Looking back up at him, you didn’t even realize you were grinning until your cheeks began to hurt, and you quickly turned your head away, facing back towards the fireplace as Joel finally walked forward to pass your mug to you.

You gladly took it, wrapping your hands around the cup, soaking the warmth into your cold hands as he sank down beside you onto your arranged pillows with a quiet grunt.

“Quite the little setup you got goin’ here,” he teased gently, and you rolled your eyes, glancing back to meet his playful little smirk with one of your own.

“It’s cozy,” you said quietly, nudging his shoulder with yours, but you didn’t pull away, letting your sides press together comfortably as you glanced towards the fire.

You brought the cup up to your lips for a sip, brows furrowing as the taste was much sweeter, almost richer than what you had been expecting.

Glancing down into the cup, you blinked a few times before meeting Joel’s gaze as you slowly began to ask, “Is this…?”

Joel nodded, taking a sip from his own mug, and you felt your heart ache with a foreign happiness at the sight of that owl art underneath his long, callused fingers as he replied, “Hot chocolate.”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing over him with a low whistle. “Damn, Miller. Pulling out the big guns tonight?”

Joel shrugged, lips pulling up into a half-smirk that made your stomach flip as he drawled, “I gotta try, don’t I?”

Cheeks flushing at the hardly disguised flirtation, your eyes darted back to your own mug, drinking more of the hot chocolate and humming at the taste now that you weren’t expecting it to be coffee.

Silence fell between you then as you drank your hot chocolate in content, and even when the mugs were empty and placed back on the floor, you still remained quiet, sides pressed together as you both gazed into the fire.

Or, you thought you were both watching the logs crack under the flickering flames. But when you turned your head to finally break the silence, you found Joel watching you instead, a softness to his gaze that you had never seen before.

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you looked up into that gaze, eyes so large and brown, so deep and warm, pulling you in further as your lips parted, aching for him.

Always aching for him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw those beautiful eyes flash down to your mouth at the movement, his hand raising to stroke the backs of his trembling fingers down your cheek before he turned it over to lay his palm there.

Joel cupped your face, thumb finding your chin to tilt your head up towards him as his eyes lifted back up from your lips, searching your gaze intently as you were too stunned, too entranced by the intimacy of the action to tear yourself away again.

Unable to help yourself, you gave in to the temptation to feel his own face beneath your fingers, reaching up to cup his face between your hands, revering the way he shivered at your touch.

Leaning forward, you watched his eyes begin to fall shut, a trembling breath leaving him while he sank into the growing familiarity of your touch on his face.

You hadn’t realized it when your physical intimacy only went so far as pure sex before, but now that you had slowly begun to touch each other more casually, more familiarly, you were realizing with a startled clarity that Joel was a touch starved man.

And you think you were just as starved for touch.

Starved for his touch.

“Joel, I…” your words trailed off, and you noticed somewhere in the back of your mind how breathless, how disjointed and strung-out you sounded as his eyes opened back up, half-lidded and full of a longing that made your heart race.

“I…” Joel tried to say something himself, his eyes flickering all over your face, like he was trying to take you in all at once, but it wasn’t enough.

His face leaned down just an inch, his eyes continuing to search yours, waiting to see if you would pull back.

When you didn’t, Joel leaned down further, stopping only when the strong slope of his nose bumped against yours, his hot breath mingling with your own as he whispered again, “I…”

Your lips parted, tilting your face up so they nearly brushed with his own before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze as you murmured, “Do you want to kiss me, Joel Miller?”

The world froze for a moment.

You could feel Joel’s breath catch more than you heard it, feeling the lack of warmth fanning against your lips before that breath suddenly left him in a rush as he whispered earnestly, “Yes.”

Heart pounding, your eyelashes fluttered, losing yourself in the way he looked at you, with eyes so deep and dark that you couldn’t see an end to him.

Couldn’t see an end without him.

But he was still waiting, still wanting to make sure you were okay with this, and you sighed, pouring all your pining for him into the sound before you whispered back, “Then what are you waiting for?”

As soon as the last word left your lips, Joel’s were pressed to them, stealing all the breath out of your lungs as he kissed you for the first time.

It was a soft kiss; barely even there, his lips pressed to yours for only a few seconds before he pulled back.

Even so, you could already feel his hand shaking from where he still cupped your cheek. Your own fingers were trembling from where they left his face to wrap around his neck, not giving him a moment to second-guess or say another word before you pulled him back down.

This time when you kissed, it was full and deep—deeper, deeper as his lips moved gently, then urgently against yours.

By no means was it a smooth kiss—it had been over a year since one of you had kissed anyone, instead spending all your time falling hopelessly into each other, trying to deny it until it was as sure as the sun rising every morning and setting each night.

No, the first real kiss you shared was sloppy, desperate, teeth nearly clashing as you sought to capture his lips with yours, and he did the same, again and again. He leaned forward, both his hands cupping your face as your fingers tangled in his hair, finally feeling how soft those curls were, and you whimpered into his mouth as it opened to swallow your sound of need.

Joel’s tongue slid into your mouth then, finding yours as he kissed you in a way that felt almost anguished, despairing for all the time you had wasted by trying to stay away from one another.

He continued to lean up and over you until you were gently falling back onto the pillows you had set up around you, settling himself on top of you as your lips parted from his only long enough for you to draw in enough breath to stay alive for each other before you were kissing again, over and over, until you were dizzy with only the feeling of him.

“Joel,” you whispered breathlessly, moaning as his lips closed around your bottom lip to suck on it before his teeth grazed against it, gently biting down and making an ache throb between your legs as he panted against your mouth.

“Need you,” Joel murmured just as breathlessly, one of his large hands moving to cup the back of your head as he tried to move his lips away to kiss across your face or down your neck, but he kept moving back up to your mouth, kissing you so passionately your head was spinning as he whispered, his voice thick with longing, “I need you.”

“Yours,” you gasped, grabbing his face to keep his lips against yours, breathing the words into his open mouth as you repeated, “I’m yours, Joel. Yours.”

Joel groaned, the sound turning into a whimper that just made the throbbing of your desire more intense, your panties growing damp as you felt his weight shift so his growing erection pressed against the center of your hips.

You were both grabbing for clothes in the same instant, nearly laughing at your clumsy eagerness to be undressed, which was only making it harder to do so.

Pulling your hands back, you let Joel undress you first, pushing his jacket off your shoulders with a groan at the sight of you still wearing it before laying his hands against the velvet of your dress, sliding his palms down to grab the hem as he whispered in your ear, “I meant it. Beautiful.”

You shivered, biting your lips that were already sore and swollen from his attention as he pulled the dress up and over your head. His hands reached behind your back, unhooking your bra next, throwing it to the side to be forgotten before tugging your panties down your legs.

“So beautiful,” Joel continued to whisper, his tone so full of admiration that you were whining even before his fingers found your folds. “You’re so beautiful.”

The sounds you were already making only became louder, moans and whimpers escaping your parted lips for only him to hear. It was almost like Joel just remembered he could finally kiss you now as he heard them, his face moving back down to desperately slot his mouth over yours while he collected your wetness on his fingers before they found your clit.

“Joel,” you gasped, grabbing his shoulders, before frowning to yourself as you remembered that he was still fully dressed.

You began to tug at the buttons on his flannel while he slowly rubbed your clit, your fingers fumbling as he worked to bring you pleasure in the way only he knew how, a deep laugh rumbling from his lips to land against yours while you struggled to get him undressed.

“Bastard,” you gasped, hips jerking up as you felt that ache in your core increase, the pressure building as your hands found his chest when you finally managed to get his shirt completely unbuttoned.

“You like it,” he hummed before he kissed you again, pulling the sounds of your pleasure into his mouth as he made you cum hard, hips continuing to weakly thrust up into his fingers that continued to stroke you through your high.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, licking your lips as you tried to catch your breath before nudging his hand away from your clit so you could get his shirt off.

His pants and boxers coming off was a blur, your vision still blurry from the intensity of your first orgasm, but you recognized the familiar feeling of the ridges of his cock pressed against your folds the moment he settled himself between your legs.

“Need you,” you found yourself whispering this time, lifting your hips to try and line yourself up with him even as Joel continued to swipe himself along your folds, taking his time to collect your dripping wetness, a groan of pleasure nearly humming from the back of his throat at your desperation. “Need you, Joel, please.”

When the head of his cock finally pushed through your folds, your head tilted back with a gasp, and Joel quickly grabbed one of the pillows around you, lifting your head to tuck it underneath before grabbing another pillow to rest underneath your back.

“Yours,” he whispered right back, echoing your own simple declaration to him as he continued to sink inside of you, and your eyes flashed open, meeting his to see that they were nothing but open and warm and real, the truth of the words fulfilling that deep, soulful ache you had felt around him for months and, oh. “I’m yours.”

That sudden realization fled your mind as Joel pulled back to thrust back into you again, and you both gasped, his forehead coming down to rest against yours as he repeated the motion again.

And again, and again, his cock easily slipping almost all the way out before rolling back in, fucking you slowly, sensually, until you were both sweating and panting from trying to make this moment last for as long as you could.

“Joel—”

He began to pick up the pace just at the sound of his name leaving your lips, already knowing exactly what you wanted, what you needed, as he fucked you into the mess of blankets and pillows strewn across the floor in front of the fire that still burned brightly in his fireplace.

No, fucking was the wrong word. You weren’t fucking anymore, you were—

You gasped, back arching as his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it quickly in your favorite way so that you were digging your nails into his back, leaving your mark on him as Joel whimpered. He adjusted himself, laying his full body weight against you as he bucked into you rapidly, letting his skin stimulate your clit instead until you were coming again.

The world faded around you for a moment, and the only thing keeping you grounded to the moment were his lips pressed desperately to yours, whispering gentle words of praise right into your soul until you blinked a few times, gaining enough realization of your surroundings to look back up at him.

His brow was furrowed as sweat dripped down it, gaze clouded with the build of pleasure that was quickly nearing a climax, but even then it was so fucking honest and adoring and only for you that you found yourself whispering, “Inside.”

Joel’s eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly, even as his hips began to stutter, his thrusts growing sloppy. He whispered your name as a warning, even as the rasp of his voice sounded like he was nearly begging you to say it again, to confirm it.

“Inside, Joel,” you repeated, nodding at him to show it was okay, that you wanted it, wanted him, and his eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open as it only took a few more thrusts until he was spilling inside of you with a loud, long moan.

You whined at the feeling of his cum filling you up, your own lips parting with a gasp at the delicious way his cock pulsed so deeply inside of you until eventually the feeling subsided.

Joel panted heavily, his forehead nearly colliding with yours, lips searching blindly for your own in the afterglow of his orgasm, and you kissed him again, both of you moaning into the contact as you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him there.

Once he caught his breath, Joel slowly pulled out of you, glancing down with a groan, and you followed the direction of his eyes to see his cum dripping from your thoroughly fucked pussy and down your legs.

You moaned yourself at the sight, glancing from it back at him with a breathless chuckle, and he shook his head, even as his lips pressed to your temple while he murmured, “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Probably not,” you whispered back, wincing at how dry your throat was, and Joel pulled back, rolling off of you when he noticed how hoarse your voice sounded.

“I’ll—” he cut off, falling back down against the blankets with a grunt as he tried to push himself up. “Fuck, just—can’t feel my legs. Gimme a second.”

You giggled, and Joel’s eyes lit up at the rare sound, his kiss-swollen lips turning up into a fond smile as you curled up against him.

“Old man,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his chest, and he hummed as his arm wrapped around your back, holding you against him as he kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh, squeezing your side and making you squeak, an unexpected, unheard of sound from you that earned warm laughter that rumbled from his chest, and you could feel the vibrations of the sound underneath your ear as he added huskily, “But you like that too.”

You bit your lip before wincing, realizing how sore your mouth was from his kisses before you looked up at him.

“Maybe I do,” you teased quietly, and he smiled, leaning down to gently kiss your swollen lips once—then two, three times, unable to get enough of you before finally managing to extract himself out from under you and push himself up to his feet.

You adjusted on the pillows until you were comfortable enough, even though you could feel your body already beginning to ache from the intensity of your passion.

“Probably shouldn’t have done it on the floor, either,” you muttered as Joel returned with a washcloth and a glass of water, handing the latter to you so you could satisfy your parched throat while he cleaned up the mess he had left between your legs.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled with a wince as he gently swiped the washcloth along your folds and inner thighs, glancing up at you with a small smile that was almost bashful and made your heart swell with fondness, “I may have been a little too eager, there.”

“I think we both were,” you laughed quietly, a little nervously, eyes darting back and forth between his to find he was just as uncertain about this new development in your relationship as you.

The funny thing was, it didn’t even feel like a huge step—or perhaps it wasn’t really a surprise at all. Every step you had taken forward with Joel had felt normal, right, and this just felt like another natural progression towards whatever was next for the two of you.

When he settled back onto the pillows, pulling you onto his chest as he wrapped a blanket around you—specifically you, making sure you were as covered up and warm as you could be, even as it left himself almost completely bare—you relaxed into him without a second thought.

Still, you tried to subtly adjust the blanket to share it with him, earning a frown from him that quickly shifted into a small smile as you murmured with a flush on your cheeks, “Savior complex.”

You fell quiet then, soaking in the warmth of his body underneath yours, marveling for not the first time how the man was a fucking furnace as his fingers began to lazily comb through your hair.

When his other hand found your arm that was draped across his torso, drawing circles against your skin, you sighed happily, not even realizing his name had left your lips until you heard him murmur, “I like the way you say my name.”

Your head lifted, looking up at Joel as he stared up at the ceiling, his gaze almost melancholic while you asked softly, “How do I say it?”

Joel hummed thoughtfully, looking back down at you in the same moment his hand rose from your arm, fingers stroking your cheek as he gazed into your eyes and whispered, “Like it’s something worth saying.”

A heavy breath rushed from your lips, brows furrowing as you adjusted yourself so you were propped up against his chest.

“Joel—”

“There it is again,” he said quietly, wistfully, his eyes so large and sweet that you were falling hopelessly into him yet again.

You shook your head, pulling yourself up so you were hanging over him, your fingers running through his messy curls as you whispered earnestly, “It is worth saying.”

Now Joel shook his head, just slightly, and you frowned, placing your hand on his cheek to bring his eyes back to your face as he tried to avoid your gaze as you said firmly, “Joel. It is.”

Your thumb brushed across his lips, swollen from your kisses, then down across the beard on his chin that he had grown out just for you, feeling the scratch of it under your touch before you added in an almost scolding tone, “None of that savior complex bullshit.”

He laughed then, a quiet chuckle, his brow arching as he glanced over your face. “Only if you do the same.”

Rolling your eyes with a huff, you moved the blanket so that you could swing your leg over his waist, straddling him so you could cup his face between both your hands, gently urging him to look at you, really look at you, because you wanted him to hear what you had to say.

“You’re a good man, Joel.”

He scoffed even before you had finished talking, and you frowned deeply, tilting his head back towards you as he tried to look away as you repeated, “Joel. You are a good man.”

“You know exactly what kind of man I am,” he said, finally meeting your eyes fully, his voice resolute and drawing a sigh from deep within your chest.

“Yes, I do,” you replied, giving a nod as you softened, thumb brushing along his cheek in a tender caress, a soft touch that he deserved after all his years of suffering. “You are a good man to me. A good man to Ellie. To Tommy, and Hope.”

Joel’s eyes wavered, taken aback by the conviction in your tone, but he leaned into your gentle caresses on his cheek, gaze warming as he glanced over your face while you spoke.

“I don’t fucking care what you’ve done, Joel, because I know why you did it,” you continued, keeping his gaze as you poured all your affection that had grown for him into the words. “I know why you did it all. And I would have done the exact same fucking things.”

When you finished speaking, you leaned down to press your lips to his forehead in a gentle kiss, resting your mouth there for a moment before tilting your face down to capture his own lips in a soft kiss that made an oath you finally knew how to keep.

Because it required no effort—not really. Every part of you already belonged to him, as he did to you.

All you had to do now was stay by his side, until the end.

And when Joel looked at you, gazing up at you with an admiration so sincere, like you truly were the moon in the sky that would always bring him home—home to you—you knew you would.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered then, in a way so soft, so yearning, that you knew you didn’t mean just tonight, but every night after.

And so he did.

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader smut #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #a stranger's heart series

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scary-grace · 7 months

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 2) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 2

When the ER doctors ask you how you got hurt, you lie. You know you shouldn’t lie, know that Tenko’s dangerous, know that his quirk, whatever it is, is deadly on contact. Some part of you thinks you should be scared of the possibility that Tenko will come back to finish the job. But at the same time, you know you’re the one who chased him. You’re the one who wouldn’t let him go. If you hadn’t run after him, none of this would have happened.

This, it turns out, is a wrist that requires a specialized healing quirk to fix, and a bruised larynx that makes you sound like you’ve been deepthroating a lead pipe. “Whoever you’re protecting, you shouldn’t,” an old, sort of grizzled nurse says severely after the fifth time you’ve repeated your lie. “Another few pounds of pressure on your throat and you’d be dead.”

Tenko was fine with killing you, at least at first. You’re not sure what changed his mind, or why he let you go, and in spite of the fact that he gave you injuries severe enough for an overnight in the ER, you can’t help wondering what happened to him. The friend you knew was nothing like that. He got frustrated sometimes, like everyone else, but he was kind. And hurting people? He wouldn’t. His older sister did more playground fighting than he did. In fact, when you think about it – you close your eyes against the fluorescent lights in your hospital room and try to fend off the memory. You can’t quite do it, because it’s crystal clear. Tenko spent more time getting hurt than doing the hurting.

If Tenko and Hana got out the door first on school days, they’d wait outside your house on the sidewalk for you to come out, so you could all walk to school together. If you were ready first, you’d wait for them. One morning you were waiting, tapping your feet, fiddling with your umbrella because the weather looked like rain even if the forecast didn’t say so, when you heard voices. One raised grown-up voice and one small anxious one, from inside the house.

You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you didn’t know how not to. Hana had a cold, so she was staying home. Tenko had wanted to say goodbye to her before he left, but their dad said no, and when Tenko stuck his head in the door anyway, his dad yelled. And was still yelling, over whatever Tenko was trying to say, until Tenko stumbled out onto the sidewalk, without a raincoat or an umbrella and scratching the skin around his eyes.

Or wiping his eyes, maybe. He started scrubbing at them frantically when he saw you. “Don’t look –”

You turned around, and as you did, you felt the first drops of rain. “Are you okay?”

“Hana’s sick.” Tenko sniffled. “I went in her room when I wasn’t supposed to.”

I heard, you almost said. But you didn’t. You just asked again. “Are you okay?”

“We have to walk or we’ll be late.” Tenko started walking, past you, and you followed him. The rain was falling harder, spattering Tenko’s shirt and his backpack. “It wasn’t supposed to rain.”

“Here.” You put up your umbrella and hurried to catch him, holding it over both your heads. You didn’t have a choice but to look at him now, and you saw how puffy his eyes were. “I bet Hana was happy.”

Tenko nodded. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and sniffled again, and when his hand fell back to his side, it brushed against yours. Tenko cringed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You linked your pinky finger with his. “I swear.”

Tenko’s finger hooked tighter around yours. “Only since you swore.”

He had a cold the next day, and so did you. You cried until your mom went over to his house to apologize for you getting Tenko and Hana sick. So this isn’t the first time you’ve lied to protect Tenko. It might just be the first time you’re getting away with it.

You’re out of the ER at eight in the morning, and by nine-thirty you’re at work. You’re a medical assistant in a network of urgent care clinics that serve low-income people, uninsured people, or people who don’t want to risk going to a standard hospital. Your friends call your workplace Villains, Inc., and you’re not going to say you haven’t met your share – but you also meet a lot of people, and you think it’s good for you. Sometimes it feels like there are two Japans, sharing space in the same territory. One full of pretty, shiny heroes and happy, law-abiding civilians and uncomplicatedly evil villains, where everybody has a quirk and everybody’s always doing their best. And then there’s the other Japan, populated by everybody who doesn’t belong in the first one.

They say one in five people are quirkless, but you see at least fifty people a day at work, and the number of quirkless people on your side of Japan is a lot higher. Quirkless children have the school system to nominally protect them, but there’s no such system for quirkless adults. A lot of them are pushed to the margins, losing jobs to those with quirks, even if their quirk is useless for the jobs in question. Even when quirkless people can get work, it’s at a lower level than a quirked person could get. Your applications to nursing school were rejected, even though your grades matched the standard. You’re lucky that you’d already found an apprenticeship, in a workplace willing to sponsor your education and train you on the job.

You’ve been working here for two years, part-time as an apprentice and CNA in high school and full-time since you graduated. You’re a medical assistant now, which means you can do a whole bunch of things – take history, check vitals, draw blood, give vaccines. You have a specific exam room you work out of, and the newest workers, the ones still in high school, bring patients from the waiting room to you. From there, you figure out where to route them. To an exam room with a nurse or a physician, to the lab for blood tests, to Imaging, to the ER if their injuries or illness are too severe to be treated here. You’ve only had to route somebody to the morgue once.

You’ve just delivered your most recent patient to an exam room with a doctor, and you’re in the process of documenting it in the chart when a message pops up from one of your coworkers at the front desk. FOF. Can you handle it?

FOF – freak out front. You don’t love that acronym. How F are we talking?

Creepy-looking + mean. The new kid messed up, but not that bad.

You’re not in the mood for difficult patients today. Your throat is sore and your wrist is itching and the turtleneck you’re wearing to cover the bruises on your neck is a little too tight. But you’re the most senior medical assistant working today, and even if you weren’t, dealing with difficult people is sort of your specialty. You did a great job last night right up until you decided to chase after Tenko.

Nobody’s perfect, and you learned your lesson, didn’t you? You sigh, wincing at how it feels, and respond. Send them over.

You go back to your chart, trying desperately to finish it before the new patient arrives, and you’re just about to send it to your supervisor when the CNA knocks on the door. “Come in!”

The door opens and the patient steps through, shutting it behind them. “Just a second,” you say, deciding you’re going to finish your documentation if it kills you. “You can have a seat and I’ll be with you as soon as I just –”

“Your voice sounds weird.”

You almost choke on your own spit. You look up from your computer and find Tenko staring at you from across the exam room.

Between the fluorescent lights of the convenience stores and the shadowy darkness of the street, your encounter with Tenko last night had the sense of a fever dream or an acid trip – shiny around the edges, not quite real. Seeing him in broad daylight in your dingy exam room is unnerving beyond words. He looks even more like your best friend than he did before, but there are more differences, too – a scar over Tenko’s mouth, another scar over his right eye. Whatever skin condition he had around his eyes as a child, it’s gotten worse, so much worse that it’s obliterated his eyebrows and spread to his forehead. He’s wearing a black hoodie, maybe the same hoodie he was wearing last night. And he’s staring at you.

You thought there was no way he’d come back to finish the job. You thought you were safe. You thought wrong. Your voice comes out in an airless whisper, like you’re still sprawled on the concrete with his arm across your throat. “What are you doing here?”

“It says outside you have to treat everybody. Is that true?” Tenko’s voice is abrupt, bordering on rude, and he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Your voice sounds weird. And that shirt is stupid. You wouldn’t sound so weird if the collar wasn’t –”

He’s reaching towards you, and you’re frozen, even as your mind screams at you to get out of the way. Tenko’s index finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck and pulls it down. His eyes narrow at first, turning his expression sharp and mean. Then they widen once more, past where they were before, until he looks more like the Tenko you knew than you’ve seen yet. “Who did that?”

You don’t remember your best friend being this stupid. “Who do you think?”

“I didn’t do that,” Tenko says, but his eyes dart to one side, the way they used to do when he knew he was wrong. A second later he changes his tune. “You made me do it. If you hadn’t chased me –”

You shouldn’t have chased him, but he didn’t have to choke you and burn the skin off your wrist. You look Tenko over and change the subject. You don’t want to argue. You don’t want him to get mad. “Aren’t you missing something?”

He gives you a puzzled look, and you mime a hand covering your face. “Father,” Tenko says. He calls it Father? That’s – weird. “He’s here.”

He unhooks his finger from your collar, reaches into his hoodie pocket, extracts the hand, and secures it over his face. It should look ridiculous, but instead it’s terrifying. “I can’t wear him in daylight. Master says he’s too recognizable yet.”

None of those words make any sense, and you’ve lost your ability to speak. “It says you treat everybody here. You have to. Right?” Tenko asks. You nod wordlessly. “So treat me.”

“Um –” You get the syllable out of your mouth, watching Tenko’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of your voice. “Do you have your intake form? They would have given it to you when you checked in.”

Tenko’s mouth twists. “The brat at the front desk didn’t give me anything. She said she could fill it in herself, since she knew I was here for dermatology.”

You think back to your coworker’s message. You’d say the new kid messed up pretty bad. “I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have made that assumption.”

“You did too. Didn’t you? I bet you thought I came in here for help with my disgusting skin.”

“No,” you say. “I think you’re probably coming in for your wrist.”

It’s the only thing that makes sense to you, short of him tracking you down to finish the job, and when he’s reached for you or taken the hand out of his pocket, he’s used his left hand. If your memory’s correct, Tenko’s right-handed. “It looked like you hurt it when you fell,” you continue. Tenko stares at you. “Are there any other issues you’d like us to investigate while you’re here?”

Tenko shakes his head. Okay. Nineteen-year-old male, here for suspected injury to wrist. What’s next in your exam workflow? A process you run through at least a hundred times per week has exited your mind completely. You glance around the room uselessly and your eyes land on your blood pressure cuff. “Okay. I’m going to take your vitals.”

“Why do you need those?” Tenko looks suspicious. “Stay away from me.”

“I need your blood pressure, your pulse rate, and your pulse oxygen level. None of those are invasive tests.” Not usually, anyway – given how Tenko reacted the last time you came anywhere close to touching him, you’re pretty sure that pushing the point here could get you killed. “Or just the pulse oxygen. That goes on your finger.”

You take it out, only to remember about Tenko’s quirk. Tenko notices your hesitation. He sneers behind the hand. “Don’t worry. It only works with all five fingers.”

Good to know. You clip the pulse oxygen monitor onto his middle finger and turn back to your computer. Even without looking at his wrist, an x-ray is standard protocol, and you need to get Tenko into the queue right away. The less time he spends here, the less danger everybody else is in. It might be too late for you already.

“What do you think?” Tenko asks. You look at him. “The quirk.”

“You’ve got one.” You’re not really sure what else to say.

“And you don’t. Still?” Tenko raises his eyebrows. You nod. “And you still don’t care.”

“No,” you say. “I never cared about not having one. Only about how people treat me.”

“I bet they treat you like shit,” Tenko says. He sounds gleeful, but his expression doesn’t match his tone of voice. It’s weird. “If I ask you why you’re here instead of some fancy clinic on the nice side of town, you’ll probably lie and say you love it here. But you’re here because nowhere else will take somebody who doesn’t have a quirk. Isn’t that right?”

“I do like it here.” You aren’t lying. The pulse ox monitor beeps and you take it back from Tenko, recording the reading on your computer. “And I’m here because nowhere else will take me. Let me see your wrist.”

Tenko’s had his other hand in the front pocket of his hoodie this whole time. He draws it out slowly and extends it towards you. You’re not qualified to diagnose anything, but you can see that it’s bruised and swollen, and the skin is hot when you touch it. Tenko hisses as your fingers make contact. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to see if there’s an obvious break.” You shouldn’t – he’ll be headed to Imaging no matter what – but you don’t want anyone else to come into contact with Tenko unless they have to. Tenko’s wrist is swollen to the point that you can barely feel anything beneath it. “Were you resting this last night? Or using it?”

“I had games to play.”

Tenko’s a gamer now. Huh. “That’s probably why it’s so sore. And so swollen. No more gaming with that hand until it heals.”

“You’re not a doctor. Don’t tell me what to do.”

“The doctor’s going to say the same thing.” You glance away at your screen, checking your position in the Imaging queue. There’s a chest x-ray ahead of you, with a sick kid, and those always take a while. “I’m going to get you some ice for this. It’ll help with the x-rays if the swelling goes down. Stay here.”

“No.” Tenko gets to his feet, pulling his wrist out of your grip, grimacing as the motion jars the injury. “You think I don’t know what you’ll do? You’re just dying to go to the cops.”

“I had a chance to go to the cops. Last night, when I went to the hospital for this.” You gesture at your throat, and Tenko’s expression twists behind the hand. “I didn’t go then. Why would I go now?”

Tenko stares at you. You hold his gaze. You’ve never lost a staring contest in your life, and you’re not planning to start today – and after a long moment, Tenko averts his eyes. “You can go,” he says shortly. “But I won’t use it unless you get some for your neck.”

Does he feel guilty? Is that why he’s saying that? You decide not to think about it too hard. He’s your patient right now. If this is what it’ll take for him to ice his injury, you’ll happily slap a bag of ice on your throat.

But once you’ve brought the ice back, and you’re holding yours to your throat while Tenko applies his gingerly to his wrist, you’re out of other things to do. It’s just you and your best friend, who tried to kill you last night, sitting in a room together. Tenko still has the hand over his face. Your wrist is still itching. Before last night, when you still had the luxury of imagining what it would be like to meet Tenko again after all this time, you didn’t imagine it would be like this. It makes you sad.

You’re expecting silence until Tenko gets called back to Imaging, but to your surprise, Tenko speaks up. “Your parents had three more kids,” he says. You nod. “Why?”

“To be fair to them, they thought they were only having one.” You don’t like being fair to them about this, given what happened afterwards, even if there’s no way they could have known. “It was triplets, and they were pretty sick. They got the same kind of quirk as the rest of the family, so they made us all feel how they felt. Which was – bad.”

Tenko doesn’t say anything. You shouldn’t be talking about your family, not when his family is dead. Does he even know what happened to his family? You’re not going to ask. “Sorry.”

“Did you have to take care of them?”

“What?”

“The stupid triplets. Did you have to take care of them, too?” Tenko glares from behind the hand. “I remember you always had to before. You never stayed as long as you wanted to.”

“Oh,” you say, startled. “No, um – I had to get home. I wanted to.”

“My birthday party. Your mom came to get you early and you said you weren’t crying but you were.” Tenko is still glaring at you, and you find yourself shrinking back in your chair. “I remember. Don’t lie.”

“You didn’t remember last night,” you say, but he must have remembered something, or he wouldn’t have spoken up when you mentioned how many siblings you have. “Tenko, what –”

“That’s not my name. Anymore.” Tenko scratches at his neck lefthanded. “Master gave me a new one. Tomura.”

“Tomura,” you repeat. “Is that what I should call you?”

Tenko – Tomura? – keeps scratching, clawing up red scrapes in his skin. Then his hand falls back down. “Tenko. You should call me Tenko.” He averts his eyes from yours again. “You knew me before.”

Before what? You can’t decide whether to ask, and Tenko makes the decision for you. “I knew you before, too. When you were a kid whose parents wouldn’t let her stay long enough at a birthday party for a fucking piece of cake.”

“You brought me some. The next day.” Your voice is small. “I remember that. It was the nicest thing anybody ever did for me.”

Tenko’s shoulders stiffen. “That’s pathetic.”

“It was the nicest thing back then,” you say. “Nicer stuff has happened since then.”

Has it? It probably has, but right now your mind is full, all your memories of Tenko flooding to the forefront. There aren’t many. Not nearly enough. Three years at most – your memory is good enough to pick up some things from when you were a toddler, and you and Tenko met when you were barely old enough to speak full sentences. But you talked. You always talked. You talked to each other about everything. Right now it feels like there’s nothing in the world you could say to each other, and it breaks your heart.

Your computer pings, snapping you out of it and giving you something else to fixate on. “They’re ready for us in Imaging. I’ll walk you.”

“What, you think I can’t walk by myself?”

“I want to keep an eye on you,” you say, and Tenko scoffs. “Come on.”

He takes the hand down off his face and tucks it away again before exiting the exam room. He pulls his hood up, too, shuffling along at your side too close to be a shadow. You pass more than a few of your coworkers, all of whom give you pitying looks. They feel bad for you, but they don’t know enough to feel bad for the right reason. It makes you angry, just like it made you angry to hear Tenko’s father shout at him, a useless anger that felt too large for your tiny body. You couldn’t protect him then, and he wouldn’t let you do it now, but the urge is there, as insane as it might be. He almost killed you last night. And here you are wanting to save him.

The x-rays go quickly. A few different angles, and then you and Tenko stand there while the doctor on shift interprets them. “No fracture,” he reports. “Just a bad sprain. We’ll send you home with a brace to wear. Just take it easy for a few days.”

Tenko jerks his chin downwards. It would be charitable to call it a nod. The doctor makes a quick note in his chart and turns away, trusting you to dig up a brace and conclude the visit. Tenko won’t ask, so you will. “What about for pain?”

The doctor turns, raises an eyebrow. “The patient didn’t ask.”

“The patient wouldn’t have come in if it didn’t hurt.” You’re insane. You must be, to help someone who hurt you, except you’re not thinking of last night, you’re thinking of today – of your best friend, who’s not your friend anymore, but remembers you enough to be angry on your behalf. Who brought you a slice of birthday cake the next day because you couldn’t stay long enough to have one. “What would you recommend?”

“Ice it at least three times a day, and double up on NSAIDs,” the doctor says finally. “The OTC brands will be fine. If you rest it properly it should be healed by next week. Is there anything else?”

You glance at Tenko. Tenko shakes his head. “Feel better soon,” the doctor says. “Come back for a follow-up if anything worsens.”

Tenko trails after you as you retrieve a brace from the supply cabinet. “What the hell were all those acronyms?”

“NSAIDs – nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs,” you explain. “Things like ibuprofen and acetaminophen. OTC means over the counter – things you can buy without a prescription. Any convenience store should have them.”

You find a brace in the correct size and turn to find Tenko already holding out his arm. It surprises you, to the extent that you freeze for a moment, but then you snap out of it and secure the brace around his wrist. It’s simple to avoid his quirk, now that you think about it. All you have to do is make sure all five fingers don’t touch you at once.

Tenko grimaces as you fasten the last of the Velcro straps on the brace. “It’s tight.”

“It needs to be tight to support your wrist,” you say. “If it hurts, loosen it a little bit, but not so much that it slides. Do you have questions about anything else?”

Tenko shakes his head. “He didn’t say I couldn’t play games.”

“He said you had to rest your wrist,” you say. “You can play point-and-clicks. With your other hand.”

Tenko snorts. “I’m not playing point-and-clicks.”

“Better than nothing.” They’re the only type of video game you’re good at. Sometimes you and your friends make a drinking game out of them, doing a shot every time you find a clue or solve a puzzle. “If there’s nothing else, I can go ahead and walk you out.”

It’s quiet for a second. Tenko is looking at you, and you look back, unsure of what else to do. Part of you wants him gone as fast as possible, but it’s a smaller part of you than it should be. The rest of you wants your best friend, who remembers the things you don’t talk about, who saw you through the smile you knew to paste on even at five years old. You want to find out what happened to him. You want to know where he’s been. You want to know if he knew you were here, if that’s why he came to this clinic instead of any of the others. You want to know if it’s going to be another fifteen years before you see him again.

For a moment you think Tenko will say something, will come up with something else to stretch this out. Instead he glances left, then right. “Which way do I go to get out of here?”

“I’ll walk you out,” you say again. You lead him down the hall to the door that opens onto the street, fighting the lump in your throat. There’s a spiel you’re supposed to give to patients as they leave, but you can’t get it out of your mouth.

Tenko stands there a moment, then pushes the door open lefthanded, and something inside you snaps loose. You catch his sleeve and he turns to stare at you, a sneer already beginning to twist his features. You’ve got maybe three seconds before he hurts you again, and you have to use them wisely. “I won’t ask about the rest of it. I’m not going to follow you again,” you say. “I know we won’t see each other after this. I just need to know. Are you okay, wherever you are?”

You’re expecting him to mock you, but instead the sneer falls from his face. He looks like himself again, the part of him you knew best. He doesn’t ask why you care, and you realize it’s because he knows. He knew last night when he let you go instead of killing you. You’re his best friend. Of course you care.

“Yeah. I –” Tenko coughs, clears his throat. His voice is back to its usual rasp when he speaks. “I’m okay.”

You know he’s lying. You think he might know that you know, too. But he pulls his arm away slightly, not yanking it from your grip but making it clear that he wants to leave, and you let him go.

The door swings shut behind him, and you turn and head back to your exam room, working on documenting his visit in the chart until your eyes go blurry. You didn’t sleep at all last night. You won’t sleep well tonight, either. You know already that you’ll be up late into the night, retracing every second in your head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Trying to guess what happened. Wondering, like you always wonder about Tenko – if he’s alive, if he’s all right.

You have answers to the first two questions now. Other than that, the things that keep you up tonight will be the same as they’ve been since you were six years old. Other than the scar around your wrist and the bruises around your throat, nothing’s changed at all.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #please hold

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bookish-bogwitch · 28 days

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Thank you @roomwithanopenfire, @rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @nausikaaa, @larkral,

@hushed-chorus, @alexalexinii, @monbons, @whatevertheweather, @run-for-chamo-miles,

@artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @forabeatofadrum, and @aristocratic-otter for the tags over the past few weeks. I've had a crazy month (90% in crazy a good way) and too frazzled to come up with my own WIP posts, but have enjoyed reading yours and being included.

Here are six ten moody little sentence from Chapter 11 of Basil Pitch's Diary. (In case you missed it, I posted Ch. 10, September, a few weeks ago, then fled the country.) Baz is hanging in in Niall and Dev's room:

The last time I was here with Niall, he’d told me to hold out for more than ear scritches and the occasional carrot. Now we sat on his bed with a chessboard between us. “Baz,” Niall said quietly. “What are you doing?” “Beating you.” I moved my queen to menace his remaining bishop. “With Snow, I mean.” Niall did that thing where the rook and king hop around, which shouldn’t be allowed, and I realized he’d won. Again. Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there is a me who grew up with someone to play against, demolishing a Niall who never went to math camp.

Below the cut: musing, a posting plan, and more tags.

Musing: I've actually written a ton since the last chapter even though I've been AWOL, but for a while no matter what I wrote, Baz felt out of character. I'd write a scene, like it, and then think "but why is he doing this?" Then I'd rewrite with Baz behaving completely differently, and that also felt OOC.

I worried that I'd somehow doomed myself with inconsistent characterization, but then I figured it out: Baz at this point is deeply inconsistent. He presents himself to the world one way, he tells the reader / himself that he's something else, and deep down he's a secret third thing. And sometimes his masks slip.

To some extent this is every unreliable narrator. But boyo has REALLY tangled himself up at this point. Something's gotta give. Until it does--which it will, soon--I have to be very clear in my mind, even if Baz isn't, about which Baz is driving the Baz at any given moment.

A lot of you can do that sort of thing intuitively. I can't. So I've been building this out (showing you just the headers b/c spoilers):

This might stultify some (most?) of you. For me, though, it's freeing. When my brain isn't trying to keep track of everything, my imagination can unfurl.

"'Everything'?" you ask. "This isn't that plotty a fic." It's not, but it's already 2.5x longer than anything else I've written, which means developing skills I haven't needed before. Anyway, my BPD chart and I are having fun. We're very happy together.

Posting Plan

I pushed myself to get Ch. 10 up before leaving home for three weeks, because Ch. 9 had ended on such a wretched note. While I was happy to have gotten it up, I didn't love the self-imposed time crunch (though betas @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart, and @thewholelemon were fuckin' heroes). Feeling rushed had me stressing and second-guessing choices that were probably fine.

My plan now is to pause updates until I have at least a very rough first draft of the final chapter, then post it all at regular intervals. I know a longish pause means some folks who'd been reading along will wait until it's complete, if they return at all. To those folks--sorry, and I get it, and thank you for reading in the first place, and I love you.

Tags and shy waves to @brendughh @beastmonstertitan @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @carryonmylovelies @creepyspice

@comesitintheclover @cows4247 @confused-bi-queer @artsyunderstudy@chen-chen-chen-again-chen

@chronicallyhomoerotic @drowninginships @dragoneggos @excalisbury @emeryhall

@erzbethluna @ebbpettier @fight-surrender @fatalfangirl @gay-at-ikea

@fiend-for-culture @forabeatofadrum @foolofabookwyrm-activated @arthurkko @j-nipper-95

@gekkoinapeartree @goblindad-emoshit @henreyettah @hertragedyconnoisseur @hushed-chorus

@icarus-n-flames @ineffable-grimm-pitch @ic3-que3n @ionlydrinkhotwater @iamamythologicalcreature

@ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @shrekgogurt @im-gettingby @youarenevertooold

@monbons @mooncello @raenestee @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @messofthejess

#six sentence sunday #my writing #basil pitch's diary #stem nerd niall #let baz be dumb 2024 #writing thoughts

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twstjam · 1 year

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Unforeseen

HAHA it's not a Matcha fic if it isn't edited and posted at 2-3 AM amirite I don't know what this is I was just brainrotting about Malleyuu + Yuu and Sebek friendship + my take on post-NRC and this is what came out of it. I INITIALLY planned to only write the first and last parts but then my brain decided that it would be a good idea to come up with all the other shit in between and now this mess exists 👍 This also features a few theories and hcs based on Book 7 Chapter 4 lore, like how Malleus hatched and how Draconia babies are made. Summary: Sebek goes missing and with Malleus's first child with you on the way the prince is anxious about the affects of unexpected events on his family and the future.

----

There aren't many things that can scare a dragon.

But then correspondence from Sebek's party stops, and Malleus swears his blood freezes.

He's sure he wears out the floor with his pacing, blood humming with restless surges of magic and throat hot with the urge to release fire as he waits with patience that wears thinner by the hour. Silver stands in the doorway, the disapproving gaze he'd imagine on his father reflected exactly on the guard's face as he tells Malleus to go to bed.

Malleus would laugh at the irony if he didn't instead begin to worry about the emptiness he'd leave next to his spouse if he remains awake until dawn again. Well, not that you'd be entirely alone.

Your arms are encircled around a massive black egg, held close to your chest like you used to do with the monster cat curled up against it. Grim rumbles like a motorboat, the only sound that remains when Malleus enters the bedroom and all conversation is halted.

You sit up, not without keeping some part of you touching the egg in some way, eyes alight with hope. Malleus's heart sinks at the way your expression falls at the frown he wears.

Referring to you and Sebek as "close" would be an understatement. Since your first day at the castle, the both of you have practically been attached at the hip, falling back into the familiar roles of your years together as students at Night Raven College. Malleus would call it an imitation of Sebek's excessive devotion to him back in those years if it weren't more personal; the two of you are often whispering secrets or nonsense, laughing, bantering, and smiling with each other despite your roles as guard and master. It's nothing like how Malleus is guarded and he sometimes finds himself feeling the ugly curl of envy at the thought.

Malleus can't fault Sebek for keeping his distance. He knows that his role as the future king forms a boundary between them that cannot and should not be crossed, but that doesn't mean that Malleus is any less upset about it.

Sebek isn't with you now though, and neither is he with Malleus, nor Silver. Malleus remembers a time like yesterday (at least to him) when Sebek would sob upon being torn from Malleus's side, but he recalls that on the day of the guard's departure, he had been insistent. Dedicated, as always, to anything and everything that would keep his lord and friend safe. You'd hugged him goodbye and waved him off cheerily, grin wide as you shouted at him to "Don't forget the souvenirs!"

"I'm doing reconnaissance, not going on a vacation," Sebek had groaned when you'd told him the same thing prior, shooting Silver a glare when the other man had muttered under his breath, "Seven knows you need one." He had redirected it, tired and pleading at Malleus when the prince had laughed.

(Malleus tries to remember what it was like; laughing. When he had lamented this aloud, you had called him a Drama Queen, but that doesn't mean you're any less worn with worry even if you don't share his admittedly exaggerated sentiment.)

"We should just go look for 'im!" Grim grouches, disguising his own worry behind drained patience at everyone's trepidation. He's practically your other half, (and more in tune with your feelings than Malleus is, he'd begrudgingly admit.) so he's as tied to Sebek as you are.

""We"?" Malleus questions sharply at your nod of agreement.

"The longer we go without a word from him the less I think I can wait, Tsuno," you plead. Malleus looks down at you understandingly, but his eyes are sad as he places a careful hand on the egg nestled in your arms. Guilt crosses your face, but the determination remains in your eyes.

"Stay with the egg," you tell him with finality, but if anyone can fight you on this it's Malleus.

"I care for Sebek, truly." Malleus cuts you off when you open your mouth to argue that I didn't say you don't— "But I will not risk the chance of our child growing without either of us by their side."

It's something that he has a firm stance on and you know that you can't ever argue with it, even if you're not willing to give up the vision in your mind of both Silver and Sebek also being by their side when they hatch. You curl up around the egg further, resigned, even as you murmur, "What do we do, then?"

"We wait," Malleus says, apologetic as he gathers his child, the love of his life, and their cherished animal companion in his arms. He curls his tail around them protectively despite his family being in the safety of his arms and his nest. He can feel Grim vibrating with unrelenting purrs against his chest, the furry little beast squishing his face against the egg as he kneads little biscuits over its curved surface. You settle with your head against Malleus's chest, dissatisfied but resigned.

----

Malleus watches you shriek when you lay your eyes on Ace and Deuce right before you bowl them over to the floor in excitement and he knows he made the right call inviting them to the castle.

Few humans ever set foot on the castle floors, not many fae keen on just the idea of it, but Malleus is the future king and he can do whatever the Hell he wants and that includes letting your friends come over for a few days to cheer you up, traditions be damned.

With Ace and Deuce around, the castle is alive in a way it hasn't been in weeks. It's not just a product of their making but yours as well, the three of you along with Grim at your heels always up to something in the castle when you're all together. Malleus is more than happy to watch over the egg as you catch up with your friends, but that doesn't mean he's free from your attention any less.

"How much longer is it gonna take for it to hatch?" Ace says in both amazement and curiosity while Deuce tries to wrap his head around the concept of a magically conceived and hatched egg (It's not really that complicated. Malleus can't understand what might be so confusing about it.). They're both standing around the egg at a distance but still closer than anyone else you and Malleus have allowed in the unborn heir's presence.

(That is, if he doesn't count Silver and Sebek.)

"Like, half a year, or something like that." You tilt your head up at him for confirmation. "Right?"

"Indeed," Malleus crows proudly, hand smoothing over the egg's shell. Grim hops up onto Malleus's lap and rubs up against the egg, butting up into Malleus's palm when he raises it to pet him. You smile with excitement, lips pulled between your teeth as you hop in your seat across from them.

"I can't wait," you chirp, linking your arms with your friends' and bouncing them along with you. "You guys have to be there when it happens, so make sure you've got nothing going on."

"Oh, you bet," Ace laughs, eyes shining with mirroring eagerness.

"Are you kidding? Like we'd miss your kid being born! Uh.... hatched?" Deuce muses.

Malleus hums, pleased at their assent, hands cradling the egg's sides lovingly. Along with Ace and Deuce, you were also planning to invite your other old friends from NRC to witness the hatching, which Malleus had agreed to without missing a beat.

Though he hadn't even been a minute old, Malleus remembers his own hatching. He doesn't think he can ever forget it; the overbearing loneliness as he broke the shell and gazed into tearful red eyes. Despite the waves of love that had urged him to come out, the room had been so empty except for the fae that had coaxed him out of his eggshell.

Malleus doesn't wish for such an experience to ever be known to his children.

He knows the image you see in your head of your child's hatchday, can see you proudly presenting his heir to the eager eyes of your friends. He can see them all now, gathered around you with the privilege to lay eyes on the future ruler of Briar Valley before anyone else; Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho... and Sebek.

Malleus's fingers curl, claws lightly scraping against the shell of his child's egg.

Sebek will be there. He knows that you haven't given that up in your mind, and neither will he.

----

Malleus still remembers the day, a year or so ago, when the two of you had finally announced that an egg had been successfully conceived.

His grandmother was the first to come see it, of course. She had manifested, eyes wild and frantic, in a burst of green flames. She at least had had the decency to appear outside of his and your chambers instead of coming right in, but the moment Malleus opened the door to greet her she was brushing right past him.

It was the first time you and Malleus (and possibly anyone really) had seen Briar Queen Maleficia so emotional. You had awkwardly patted her back in an attempt to soothe her surging emotions, but it had instead gotten you pulled into a stifling hug that had you breathless. Malleus had watched with both amusement and tears in his eyes as his grandmother murmured "thank you"s to you over and over on repeat while you reached for him with your arms, silently begging for assistance.

After that, it was time to introduce the egg to the rest of his family.

Though it wasn't her egg, Maleficia had to be convinced to allow other people close to it, relenting with a pout. She remained in the room though, so when you had returned with Silver and Sebek in tow, her presence was the first thing that they registered. Sebek had gotten so caught up with stuttering formalities that he didn't even notice the egg for a full five minutes.

Everybody else in the room were already prepared for when he finally did, hands held over ears round and pointed alike as he screeched in surprise.

"An egg! You have an egg?!" he'd screamed in disbelief. You'd laughed as he grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you. "I'm not dreaming, am I?! Please tell me I'm not—!"

"You're not—!!!" you'd shouted, and the two of you had both shrieked with glee as Sebek picked you up and spun you around the air. He had chanted his congratulations while you vigorously repeated "Thank you!"s.

He had put you down awkwardly when he remembered again that Maleficia was in the room, clearing his throat and recollecting his composure while you continued to giggle. His joy was so infectious though that it even had Maleficia cracking a smile despite being in the face of some of her subjects.

"Do I not get a hug also?" Malleus had tried to be lighthearted but he couldn't help the pout on his face. Though he was reluctant and still alert to presence of the queen, Sebek had relented and given him the privilege. It wasn't anything like the hug he had given you, but it was meaningful and personal nonetheless. Silver had joined at Malleus's beckoning and the prince had held them both close, so many words of relief and gratitude going unspoken but communicated between the three of them nonetheless through one shared gesture.

Malleus had looked up at the quiet shuttering of a ghost camera and saw you show a polaroid to his grandmother with a proud grin.

"Could you perhaps make a duplicate of that for me?" she had mused.

----

Malleus is unsure if Ortho's surprise visit to the castle could be considered a pleasant one. Perhaps, if it were under different circumstances. Perhaps, if he had returned with Sebek and he wasn't practically painted with injuries.

Malleus was in the middle of his duties when he had found out. He had been discussing with the council the search itself for Sebek and his party when a member of the castle staff burst through the door and unceremoniously interrupted the meeting. They were quickly forgiven when they'd frantically informed him that Sir Zigvolt had finally returned.

Malleus had torn through the halls in a billow of black robes, legs carrying him thoughtlessly to his destination, eyes like green spotlights in the dimly-lit halls. The servants parted and made way for him wordlessly.

When he finally arrives, both you and Grim are already there, sitting by Sebek's bedside and on his lap respectively while Ortho hovers at his other side. Malleus is momentarily relieved that you'd been informed first, but then he sees the state Sebek is in and he's next to you in an instant.

Sebek's slit pupils dart to him for the briefest second before looking away with a grimace. He seems to sink further into the pillows cushioning his back at his sitting position, shame evident in his eyes and the way his lips are twisted in a way that morphs the cuts and bruises on his face.

"My liege—" he rasps, and the fire in Malleus's chest roars and pulls.

"Silence," he commands, a little too sharply and it aches how Sebek shrinks further into himself. Malleus sucks in a breath and forces himself to calm down. He sits down on the bed, holds out his hand, and speaks, softer this time, "Be still."

Sebek opens his mouth to retort but you shoot him a reprimanding look that has him going quiet again. Malleus notices how Sebek doesn't retreat from you and he feels that familiar pang of jealousy again.

Now is not the time for such trivial matters, boy. Your family is hurt. a voice chides him in his head. He holds his hand over Sebek's face, and though the halfling twitches slightly in discomfort, he closes his eyes to the warmth of Malleus's magic as his injuries begin to heal.

As Sebek relaxes, the tension easing further out of him as his pain fades away, Ortho begins to explain what had happened, how he had found Sebek, and why.

As it turns out, the treacherous group that Sebek's party was sent to observe was also being investigated by S.T.Y.X.. Sebek and his group had gotten ambsuhed and captured— At this, your hand tightens further around Sebek's much larger one. It draws Malleus's attention, and a low growl escapes him at the redness of iron burns peeking ever-so-slightly from beneath Sebek's sleeve.— and when Ortho had discovered this, he had gone in and rescued them as fast as he could. Sebek's injuries had been worse, apparently, and there was only so much Ortho could do with his built-in medical procedures in such a short amount of time.

The young humanoid seems to sag defeatedly at this, but you're quick to reassure him that "No, you did great. I mean it, Orr. Thank you."

Even Sebek had opened his eyes to shoot Ortho a reprimanding yet grateful look.

"I can confirm. I might not be here currently if it were not for your action, Ortho."

Ortho's eyes go wide at this and he scrubs at them with the heel of his palm as dribbles of liquid stain his cheeks.

"Y-You're going to activate my crying simulation again, Sebek!" he chokes out. He suddenly looks up, teary eyes meeting Malleus's, and Sebek looks like he wants to stop him from speaking but he's too late as Ortho blurts out, "I hope you are not disappointed in him, Malleus Draconia, though I don't think that you are! Regardless, you should know that Sebek was really cool, even though he was the one being rescued! He was suffering from severe iron burns and yet he stood up to the enemy captain anyway and bit his arm off when he tried to grab me! It was like he was the hero!"

An embarrassed blush spreads over Sebek's cheeks at Ortho's retelling, his flustered gaze suddenly finding interest in Grim's silky fur beneath his fingers. Despite his demeanor, his voice is as sure as ever as he says, "Well, of course I couldn't just stand there and let you be hurt after all the trouble you went through because of my blunder!"

At this statement, Malleus turns to him questioningly. "Sebek—"

"It was due to my shortcomings that we were captured, Lord Malleus," Sebek admits, shamefully and yet boldly as he looks up to finally meet his master's eyes. "It was my fault. The solution was so simple. If only I had...." Sebek's brow furrows in frustration, his fists clenching, the one holding your hand wrapping around your fingers fiercely. "If only I was—"

"Sebek," Malleus says, gently yet firmly, a mere mimicry of your reassuring tone, but it works to cut Sebek off before he begins his tangent. "That does not matter."

His hands draw downwards, brushing against yours before carefully wrapping around Sebek's wrists. Sebek inhales sharply at the sting of contact but eases again at the warmth of healing magic.

"What matters now is that everyone is safe. Is that you are safe. That you have returned to us."

He knows it's selfish. As prince, he knows it's unfair and unwise to be so forgiving of one of his guards' failures— A single wrong move could mean the downfall of the entire kingdom, after all— but Malleus finds that he doesn't care. He finds that, with Sebek back in the safety of the castle, with his family— All of his family— back in the safety of his arms, he doesn't care.

After weeks of worry and weariness and heavy thoughts of paranoia and doubt, Malleus for the first time feels a weight lift off his shoulders and it's like he can breathe again. He remembers again the feeling of relief.

Your hand that's not holding Sebek's reach for one of Malleus's. He accepts it gratefully, looking down to return your equally relieved smile, but when he meets your eyes, the expression on your face is not what he expects.

Instead of warmth, instead of anxiety flooding out of you and tears gathering in your eyes, your expression is cold and detached; eyes distant, lips pulled firmly into a thin line, and brows fighting to not draw down in what he knows would be the most fearsome glare he's ever seen in his years of living.

There aren't many things that can scare a dragon, but right now, as he watches you, the barely-restrained fury on your face and the chilling desire for damnation in your eyes, Malleus feels the fire in his chest snuff out, retreating to make way for the real beast.

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areyoudreaminof · 23 days

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Future Rust and Future Dust: Chapter 6

I'm back. Kind of.

I'd like to give my most heartfelt thanks and dedication to @secret-third-thing for reading this and giving me the boost I needed to post this.

Feyre,

By the time you read this, I’ll be heading for the continent.

I wish I had more time to explain everything to you and Nesta but time is running out. You should have all of Lucien’s reports on Beron and the human armies. Things are moving much faster and becoming much more dire than we thought. We need to get to the lake. I hope you’ll forgive me and understand that this was not a rash decision. Our human allies have procured us a ship, when we reach Rask safely, I will write to you again.

Please give Nyx a kiss every night from me. Please-

The pen stopped suddenly in Elain’s fingers, leaving a small pool of ink idling under the brass tip. No matter how many times she wrote it, the letters to her sisters sounded wrong, like she had something to hide. But she wasn’t hiding, she told herself, just keeping some things personal. Elain supposed it was a form of guilt that ate at her. After all, she did leave the house almost a year ago, in the middle of the night to come down to the manor. She hadn’t been up to Velaris since, but her sisters came down to visit once, Nyx on Feyre’s hip and a closed off expression on Nesta’s face.

She and Lucien had fallen in love with each other by then, and she had hoped her sisters would be happy for her. They assured her they were, but something unspoken hung in the air, something that none of the sisters could put into words. Elain hoped that by holding off on a mating ceremony until her sisters could be there would smooth things over. She was ready to accept the bond, but she felt another twinge of guilt at the idea of not having her sisters there for a ceremony. Ever the gentleman, Lucien assured her they could have a small ceremony in the spring with her sisters. With a sigh, Elain finished the letter as best as she could, quickly folding and sealing it as she threw it into the small stack of envelopes. With a stretch, Elain rose from the desk, her eyes drifting to the window.

Snow was falling outside, softly, almost silently. Only the wind whistled a lonely ballad, one of sorrow and change. Elain had seen the steel clouds on the horizon and had felt the bite of cold in the air, but she was so focused on packing clothes, writing letters, hoping that they could get onto a ship before morning that she had missed the first flakes falling. Quickly, she walked through the kitchen to the back door, sparing a glance at the clock. It was nearing sunset and Vassa would be home. They could finish packing and Jurian and Lucien would be ready with a carriage to take them to the coast, where a merchant ship with black sails waited, she reminded herself as she swung the back door open.

She reached up to touch the snowflakes that flurried and whirled around her as she stepped outside. Each flake kissed her fingertips and cheeks lightly, while her breath whirled in clouded puffs from her lips. Elain remembered her first snow, she supposed she must have been three or four years old. The naked rose bushes in the garden froze in the night, while snow dusted the twisting branches like white blooms. She was hypnotized by the beauty of it all, hardly looking away from the window as her governess wrapped her in mittens and scarves. Her next memory was being angry about how wet and filthy her shoes and stockings got after she came inside.

I suppose I’ll have to get used to wet stockings, she thought. The continent was colder and wetter this time of year, at least, if her old atlases were right. Visions of ice on the lake flickered through her memory as she breathed in the sharp and muddied air.

Blue light filtered in through the night sky, an echo of the full moon behind the clouds, though the manor grounds were cloaked in darkness. Only the warm glow of the kitchen illuminated Elain’s path, the copse of ash trees were a snarled shadow in the distance.

A wolf began to howl, far off into the tree line.

The pitch of the howl was wrong, too sharp for the wolves that prowled the wall line, too nasal. As the howl echoed through the limbs of ash trees, static fear crept through Elain’s throat. She couldn’t spot Vassa in the darkness, if the howling got a hold of her-

DONG! DONG!

The continental wooden clock in the kitchen announced the Vassa hour and the wolf howled again. Elain launched into the snow, her shoes sliding along the tightly packed ice, her breath sharpening with cold as she pumped her legs toward the soft firelight in the trees. The wolf-thing howled again, this time closer to the south, nearing the manor. Elain cut through the ash grove and into the clearing where Vassa usually landed, ignoring the hiss of ash branches along her skin as she ran.

She could not say the words, admit what she knew had finally come.

But she could run.

TAGLIST: @secret-third-thing @asnowfern @foundress0fnothing @born-to-riot @bunburyahoy @c-e-d-dreamer @cowboylament @cupiddoe @dawneternal @goghwilde @itsthedoodle @jamborina @kataravimes-of-the-shire @moonpatroclus @octobers-veryown @popjunkie42 @queercontrarian @rosanna-writer @separatist-apologist @sassyhobbits @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @velidewrites @witch-and-her-witcher @wilde-knight @xtaketwox @melting-houses-of-gold @reverie-tales @striving4mikey @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @jamborina @fieldofdaisiies @crazy-ache @works-of-heart @luciensdefenseattorney @jules-writes-stories @acourtofladydeath @sunshinebingo @spell-cleavers

#i took over a year off and cut you bitches some slack #tell a friend to tell a friend #she's baaaccckk #elucien #jassa #elain x lucien #jurian x vassa

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paul-ster · 3 months

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Hated by Life Itself 🧸

Aka a fic I was SUPPOSED to finish and post after The Calm Before the Storm 😭 Plans changed yall. But I still wanted to put out the first chapter here at least so that I can be reminded that this fic exists :3

This fic mentions self harm and covers sensitive subjects. It gets graphic in this small excerpt, so if you are weary about those kinds of subjects, please scroll. I don’t want anyone to get hurt by anything I write :(

Ponyboy was only five when he first saw his dad doing it. He had needed to use the bathroom, and being five, he didn’t have the best patience skills. So, instead of knocking and waiting, he threw open the door. Mr.Curtis was on the toilet seat, except, he wasn’t using the bathroom.

He came face to face with Mr.Curtis, who seemed to have been crying. Eyes wide, Mr.Curtis grabbed Ponyboy's arm and shoved him in. He slammed the door shut, looking at Ponyboy as if Ponyboy was a threat to him. Ponyboy's eyes were also wide and his breathing stopped. On the toilet seat, Mr.Curtis had a razor to his thigh as blood dripped from a straight line. The blood beaded before gently falling to the side, almost sickening Ponyboy.

Ponyboy tried to avert his eyes from the grotesque scene in front of him. The sight of Mr.Curtis’s blood falling to the floor seemed to embed itself in his head. But, he couldn’t deny his need to use the bathroom any longer. “Daddy… potty,” Ponyboy said, kicking his legs a bit. Mr.Curtis still looked shell-shocked, but nodded, picking himself up and letting Ponyboy use the bathroom.

“Now you don’t tell anyone ‘bout this, okay little colt?” Mr.Curtis said as he ruffled Ponyboy's hair. The tears had seemed to magically disappear on Mr.Curtis’s face, but the blood on the floor hadn't disappeared. Ponyboy nodded, more so happy that he was able to use the restroom. Still, even when he had finished, he looked at his dad.

“Why do you do that?” His voice was barely audible and squeaky. Mr.Curtis felt a pang of regret as he tried to explain. Knowing that if he kept it a secret from Ponyboy, then Pony would tell his mom about it. And Mr.Curtis had already lied to her and told her that he quit…

“Sometimes daddy gets real stressed,” Mr.Curtis explained. “It’s something that only adults do, okay?” Ponyboy nodded, starting to fear the day that he got older and real stressed. Mr.Curtis drilled it into his head to never tell anyone about it. And Ponyboy knew what would happen if he did tell anyone… Still, he promised to Mr.Curtis that he would never do anything like that, and was sent on his way.

Ponyboy would’ve never said it was a main memory of his childhood. He would prefer to say that the main thing he remembered was spending time with the gang and trying to be older than what he was. Still, the memory hung in the back of his mind, and he still remembered the other times he had caught his dad.

It didn't help when Ponyboy thought to act older. He would catch himself thinking about doing the same thing Mr.Curtis would do when he was stressed. After all, only adults did it- right? But every time he thought that he would remember the blood and having to help his dad. Not to mention the constant secretary that he had to keep up. Something that he was only barely able to hide from the gang and even his own mother.

He couldn’t forget the amount of times he saw his dad run out of the bathroom, without even flushing the toilet. Ponyboy knew that every time he had done that, it was because he was real stressed. But, he also knew that what Mr.Curtis was doing wasn’t okay for him.

It carried on for what felt like forever, up until Ponyboy was 12 when something else had happened. Ponyboy tried to sit on the couch to forget what he had seen. This time his dad messed up badly and had to use an unusual amount of gauze. The sight had sickened Ponyboy to the core, just about every time he had tried to forget and close his eyes, the images would pop up. Knowing that he couldn’t do anything about it, he just looked at the ceiling.

Sodapop and Steve came into the house, calling a greeting as the door slammed behind them. Ponyboy's mind was still in a daze, confused as to why his dad would do that. Mrs.Curtis followed in behind Steve, carrying many bags. She dropped them off before going over to Ponyboy.

“Where’s your father?” Mrs.Curtis asked. Ponyboy swallowed thickly, unsure if he should even answer. Yet, he found his mouth speaking before he could think. “In the bathroom.”

Mrs.Curtis nodded, her face making a weird expression as she walked to the bathroom. A twisting feeling came to Ponyboy, causing him to start to feel anxious. His dad had drilled it into him that he couldn’t tell anyone, not even his mom, about what he had saw. Ponyboy listened as his mom knocked on the bathroom door, and how his dad answered.

“Hey Pony,” Sodapop greeted as he walked to the couch. Ponyboy nodded a reply, his ears straining to hear the rest of his parents’ conversation. Yet, Sodapop was adamant about talking to Ponyboy. “Do anything fun?” Soda asked. Ponyboy shrugged, “No.”

Before Sodapop could ask anything else, Steve called out. “Soda, we goin’ to the races or what?” Soda looked at Ponyboy worriedly. “Go Soda,” Ponyboy encouraged, still trying to listen to his parents. All he could make out was that his mom was now angry. A sick feeling came to Ponyboy’s throat as he listened.

Sodapop walked out with Steve, not before ruffling Ponyboy's hair. As he left, he watched as Ponyboy continued to stare at the ceiling, as if listening for something.

“Ya good Soda?” Steve asked as they started walking to Bucks. Sodapop looked back at his house, watching as Darry drove by in their father's truck. “Didya think that there's somethin’ botherin’ Pony?” Sodapop asked. Before he could get an answer, Darry slowed down near the duo, rolling down a window.

“Need a ride?” Darry asked. Steve nodded for both Sodapop and himself. They got into the truck, with Sodapop beating his own record for the longest he’d been silent. Steve and Darry shared worried looks as Darry drove. “Is there somethin’ wrong little buddy?” Darry asked, finally breaking Sodapop out of his trance.

“There was somethin’ botherin’ Pony when I and Steve went home…” Sodapop finally admitted. Darry's eyebrows furrowed, “Did he tell ya what it was?” Sodapop shook his head, glancing over to Steve. Steve shrugged.

“He was quiet but more quiet than usual,” Sodapop added. He looked out to the road, “It ain't like him to be that quiet.” Darry set a firm hand on Sodapops shoulders, trying to reassure him. “Maybe his head just got lost in a good book?”

Sodapop nodded, knowing that it wasn't the reason. But, he knew Steve wasn't going to like it if the reason he couldn't enjoy watching the races all because of his worry for Ponyboy. Pushing the fear aside, Sodapop plastered on a smile, pretending to think that Ponyboy was okay. After all- what did he have to be so worried about?

Ponyboy continued to sit on the couch until his mom and dad rushed past him. He stood up expectantly as his mom ushered his dad out of the house. Mr.Curtis seemed to be losing his balance, something that Ponyboy had never seen before.

He looked up to Mr.Curtis in an idolistic way. Seeing him weak sent an unknown pang of fear through Ponyboy. Mrs.Curtis tried to give him a reassuring smile but it fell short. Ponyboy watched as they both left the house leaving in their other car. The silence afterward felt like needles prickling under Ponyboy's skin as he sat back down on the couch.

For a moment he tried to understand what he saw. Did his mom know now? Was Mr.Curtis angry with the fact that she knew now? Or was he okay with it, thinking that maybe it was what was best? The thoughts swirled in Ponyboy's head as he shakily made his way to the kitchen. Before he could fully make it, he tripped on the bags.

With a “plan,” Ponyboy started to distract himself. He didn't want to think about his dad or anything in general. The earlier sight had still stuck with Ponyboy, embedding itself in his head to the point that he couldn't think of anything else. In easier terms, he was stressed.

And what do self-proclaimed adults do when stressed?

Ponyboy found himself in the same position his dad was in. The razor was pressed to his skin, something that he’d never thought he’d do. He felt his breath start to fasten as the razor slowly dragged-

“Is anyone home?” A voice yelled out through the house. Ponyboy froze, flinching at the pain and the sound of the voice. He heard as the voice kept calling out, but kept getting closer to the bathroom. A simple knock on the door was all he needed to quickly hide the evidence and open the bathroom door.

Two-Bit just looked at Ponyboy shocked when he came out. “Well I’ll be, I ain't never think ya to hide in the bathroom when your buddy comes!” Two-Bit exclaimed as he followed Ponyboy. Ponyboy made his way to the living room again, almost ashamed of what he did. The stinging pain in part of his thigh burned along his jeans as he walked.

He almost wanted to call himself weak for not being able to handle the small bout of pain. A part of him was surprised that his dad was able to do it easily without even flinching when his mom touched his thigh. But, he knew that he had to ignore it for now, at least until Two-Bit left. Yet, as time went on, it seemed as if Two-Bit was never going to leave.

“Kid?” Two-Bit's voice finally cut through Ponyboy's thoughts. He looked up, watching as Two-Bit walked up to him. “Wheres your mom and dad?” Two-Bit finally asked. Time felt as if it slowed down right then. All Ponyboy could think about was the sight he saw before with Mr.Curtis and the one that included Mrs.Curtis ushering Mr.Curtis out of the house. All because Ponyboy didn't tell anyone.

Ponyboy bit his lip, he didn't want to tell Two-Bit, mostly because of his loyalty to his dad. So, he found himself shrugging and getting up to make dinner. Two-Bit watched him carefully, almost as if Ponyboy was going to simply pass out on the floor. Ponyboy couldn't deny that he did feel like that. But, there was something else weighing on him to make him feel like that…

The familiar cheer of the crowd excited Sodapop. He loved every moment of it, the sounds, the conversations, and even the random fights that would happen. Darry and Steve stood nearby him, with Johnny making an appearance. Sodapop felt a pang of worry hit him as Johnny settled with the other three.

Dallas was racing, something that he was excellent at. Steve joked around, talking about how Dally probably rigged his horse on coke or something. It was enough to make the small group laugh for a moment before the gun went off. When it did, they watched in anticipation until finally, Dally's horse went through first.

Yells erupted in the crowd as people passed over lost money. The excitement should've been enough to push Sodapops mind off of his baby brother but it wasn't. He found himself starting to panic, thinking about what Ponyboy was stressed about. When the time finally came to go home, Sodapop never felt better.

“Two-Bit’s here?” Darry asked as he parked the truck. Everyone was in there, even Dally and Johnny. Sodapop felt a pang of relief go through him as he thought about Two-Bit watching over Ponyboy. However, he also noticed that his parents weren't there.

Quickly Sodapop ran into the house. He looked around and quickly saw Two-Bit and Ponyboy just having dinner. Relief washed over him as he walked up to Ponyboy. Ponyboy seemed different still, almost as if he wasn't fully there in the moment. Darry gave Sodapop a concerned look as Sodapop tried to talk to Ponyboy.

After a few futile attempts at conversation, Sodapop just decided to eat some dinner with Ponyboy. Darry looked around for a moment, catching the sight of their parents being gone. “Wheres mom and dad?” Darry asked, settling down with his own serving of food. Once again the fear seemed to build up in Ponyboy as he looked to Two-Bit for help.

Two-Bit just shrugged, “They were gone ‘fore I got ‘ere.” Darry nodded, catching a look as Ponyboy put his head lower. He refused to meet anyones eyes, something not too peculiar…

Once they were finished with dinner, they all started to mess around in the living room. Somehow Steve had gotten Ponyboy to talk, mostly to give rude retorts. Darry found himself feeling relieved as his baby brother seemed to start acting more and more like himself. Then, the front door opened.

Mr and Mrs.Curtis walked in, with Mrs.Curtis carefully holding up Mr.Curtis. Instantly Darry and Sodapop were trying to help them, careful with how they spoke. Ponyboy followed along, trying to see what had happened with his dad. Yet, Mrs.Curtis ushred them away, only asking for Ponyboy to stay.

Mr.Curtis sat on his bed as Mrs.Curtis went to make sure no one broke anything in her living room. Ponyboy shifted his weight on his feet as he looked at his dad. His dad looked tired, but also the familiar glint in his eyes stayed. It made Ponyboy feel uneasy though.

Usually, Ponyboy never got in trouble. And if he did, it was usually petty crimes. Yet, he felt as if he had just committed the worst crime. In a way- he did. He had betrayed his father's trust. Before Ponyboy could get any words out, Mr.Curtis just shook his head.

“Remember what I said Ponyboy,” Mr.Curtis said as he patted his lap. Ponyboy knew what was coming and so he put his head down and walked over. “You know what happens when you betray someone's trust?” Mr.Curtis asked, his voice booming in a way that only Ponyboy could hear. It scared Ponyboy to his very bone as he nodded…

It wasn't fun for Ponyboy but- he did learn something. Never to tell anyone what happened, or what he saw. Another thing he learned: was how to “deal” with stress, the Curtis way.

But he’d never do it.

Right?

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matty-bear · 7 months

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X. A Little Push [N.S]

type: chapter ten of The Influencer series

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!oc

warnings: sfw, tooth-rotting fluff

summary: which matt and chris manage to persuade nick into talking to finn about coming clean with their relationship to the fans.

notes: i really thought this would be the last chapter help . but alas this calls for a next chapter 😞 chapter 11 will be the last chapter of this series so be ready ! like i said before, there will still be more nick and finn content ^^ don’t be shy to send in requests about them <3 anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and happy reading !!

WC: 4.7k

CH9

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

It has been about two and a half months since Finn and Nick first got together. They’ve (surprisingly) managed to stay under the radar and keep their relationship a secret for a good amount of time. However, both boys had many conversations as to when they would come clean about their relationship with their fans. They knew that both of their fan bases were aware that something was going on between the two considering how much they post each other (whether it be selfies, appearances in posts or vlogs, or just being seen together in public) but, their fans weren’t completely sure if they were together dating wise.

Some fans were certain that they were together and complimented them on how lowkey they were and others simply thought they were just close friends. The whole incident of them first being seen together awoken great chaos between the two fan bases however Nick and Finn quickly shut down the riot that ensued. (both boys made a similar post on their stories commenting about the situation and ended up laughing about it because they practically lied to their entire fanbase) Even after this mishap was resolved, the fans continued to be a little suspicious of the closeness of the two boys.

As Nick and Finn inched closer to the three-month mark of their relationship, the want of coming out to the fans grew stronger. Both of them wanted to be as open as possible with their relationship and be able to post risky (not in that context) photos on social media to brag about them being together.

Since both boys were rather indecisive and often backed out of posting an announcement about their relationship, Matt and Chris ended up taking the initiative of urging them to come out to the public. The two brothers were plenty aware of how Nick and Finn wanted to come clean about their relationship, however, they were also aware of how anxious they were about it. Matt and Chris knew it wouldn't be long until the two gave in coming out but they knew they had to give them a little push.

PRESENT

It’s currently 3 AM and the triplets barely arrived back to their house after filming a car video. Finn, having already been at their place since early that morning, impatiently waited for the three boys to return ever since they left. The moment the male hears the front door opening, he springs up from Nick's bed and rushes out of his boyfriend’s room to greet the three boys entering their house. The moment the three boys step foot upstairs, Finn immediately runs to Nick and engulfs him in a large hug. The younger, not expecting the sudden collision, stumbles back and hits the wall behind him with a small ‘oof.’

“Well, hello to you too.” Nick chuckles, his arms immediately wrapping around the taller’s torso.

“I missed you.” Finn mumbles, his speech muffled by his face being dug into the crook of Nick’s neck. The latter giggles at the tingly feeling and leans back a little to get a better look at his boyfriend.

“I was only gone for two hours.”

“Two hours too many.”

“You wouldn't be missing him every time we go to film if you joined us,” Chris says, projecting his voice as he enters the kitchen and opens the fridge. Finn momentarily releases himself from Nick’s grasp to look over at the youngest triplet who takes a can of Pepsi from the fridge. Sensing that someone is staring at him, Chris lifts his head as he shuts the fridge and immediately locks eyes with Finn. “Hey, I’m just saying. I'm sure the fans would love to have more Finn and Nick content.”

Finn hums softly and returns to tightly hugging Nick. “I don't know..” The male says, his voice trailing off slightly as he glances over at his boyfriend.

“I honestly think that bringing Finn in for a car video or even a podcast would be a great way of announcing your relationship,” Matt adds, taking a glance over at the couple still standing by the staircase before heading to the living room. “Feel like it'd be better than making a post.”

Nick and Finn collectively grow quiet at Matt’s suggestion and exchange a look before the older of the two brings them both to the living room. After being lightly shoved down onto the sofa, Finn sits next to Nick and immediately goes to lie down on his lap. As he continuously buries his face in Nick’s thigh, the latter giggles softly at his boyfriend's shenanigans and sets a hand in his hair.

“I swear you're like a puppy sometimes,” Nick says as he begins to card his hand through Finn’s bright, blueberry colored locks. The taller simply hums and instinctively leans into Nick’s hand, craving the loving touch of his boyfriend. Nick rolls his eyes and chuckles at the male’s action before he speaks up again, “Exhibit A.”

“Oh shut it.” Finn mumbles, a small smile forming on his lips as his eyes close.

“Finn, hate to ruin your want of being a tough and cool guy but you give off major golden retriever vibes. Especially when you're around Nick. He should honestly edit a fucking tail and ears on you when you guys film a vlog together.” Chris states, making his presence known as he joins the three males in the living room.

Finn immediately perks his head up at the brunette’s statement, his eyes following the male as he takes a seat next to Matt on the sofa. “Are you serious?”

Chris takes a quick sip out of the Pepsi in his hand before he replies, “Dead serious. You might as well dye your hair blonde to lock in the look.”

“Wait, why does that sound really tempting..” Finn mumbles, his eyes shifting up to meet Nick who rolls his eyes.

“You need to give your hair a break, you just re-dyed it. Let her breathe.” Nick says as he takes a single piece of Finn’s hair in between his fingers.

“Fine, fine.” Finn grumbles with a heavy sigh. As he lays back down on Nick’s thigh and gets comfortable, he takes his boyfriend's hand, which is still playing with a piece of his hair, and sets it on his head. “Can you continue, please?”

“Continue what?” As Nick sends Finn a teasing smile, the latter sighs heavily and drapes an arm over his face. Nick knew that Finn didn't enjoy verbally asking for affection and that he often opted to using body language to tell Nick what he wanted. Knowing this fact, the redhead often teased his boyfriend when he wanted affection and enjoyed seeing the flustered and semi-annoyed expression that painted his features every time he made him ask for affection.

“Nick…” Finn says, dragging out the said male's name as he moves his arm down to see his boyfriend better.

“Finn…” Nick mimics the older, his teasing smile not faltering, even after his boyfriend whines and turns around to lay on his side. “Don’t be so hard-headed, baby. All you gotta do is tell me what you want and I’ll happily give it to you.”

“I’m not asking for it, Nick.”

“Then you're not getting whatever you want.”

As Nick leans back against the sofa and pulls his phone out of his pocket, Finn quickly turns around to lay on his back, a hurtful expression clear on his face as he looks up at his boyfriend. “My love, please~” Finn whines as he reaches up to grab Nick’s arm. The latter, feeling that his boyfriend is continuously tugging on his sleeve, sighs faintly and removes his phone from his face to look down at his pouting boyfriend.

“Why are you pouting?” Nick asks as he covers Finn’s face with a single hand. The latter huffs when his vision turns black and ponders for a moment before he licks Nick’s palm. The latter screams at the uncomforting touch and immediately removes his hand from Finn’s face. “FINN!” The redhead shouts, his jaw-dropping as he looks down at his boyfriend who's smiling widely at him.

“What did he do?” Matt asks, his head whipping around to look over at the two males on the other sofa.

“He licked me!” The sound of Chris laughing loudly can be heard the moment that statement escapes Nick’s lips and Matt joins the younger by giggling softly and covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. Nick rolls his eyes at his two younger brothers before averting his focus back on Finn who's struggling to hold back his laughter. “Are you seriously laughing?”

As Nick narrows his eyes at Finn, the latter shakes his head. The moment he goes to open his mouth to reply, a stream of giggles escapes his slightly parted lips. The male quickly plops a hand over his mouth to muffle his faint laughter as Nick continues to glare down at him. “You know what…” The moment Nick goes to latch his hands onto Finn’s sides, the older lets out a squeal-laugh and rolls off his lap. The taller plops down onto the floor with a soft grunt and scrambles up to his feet as his boyfriend gets up from his spot on the sofa.

Finn wastes no time in running out of the living room the second he regains his footing. At the sight of his boyfriend sprinting off, Nick immediately runs after him, both of his arms extending in front of him in hopes of grabbing the older male.

“WAIT! I’m sorry!” Finn exclaims, anxious giggles spilling from his lips as he takes a sharp turn to enter the kitchen.

“Bull shit! I could practically hear you thinking about licking me before you did it!” Nick yells. Seconds before he's able to grab onto the back of Finn’s hoodie, the latter uses the rest of his energy to dash back to the living room. He immediately heads towards Matt and Chris who have been watching the scene in front of them unfold with small smiles and jumps behind them. As Finn begins to hide behind Matt, Nick walks up to the three boys on the sofa, a look of amusement clear on his face as he looks down at them.

“Are you serious?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow-raising.

“Yes.” Finn replies flatly. “You have to get through these two to get to me.” Nick rolls his eyes as Finn latches onto Matt’s shoulders and ducks his head behind his back.

“Matt, move.”

“No can do. Sorry.” Matt shrugs his shoulders and reaches an arm back to grab Finn.

Nick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking over at the youngest triplet. “Chris?”

“What?” The brunette asks, a blank expression clear on his face as he looks up at the older.

“Can you move so I can get Finn please?”

“Oh. No.”

“You know what, fine.” Nick huffs faintly and walks up to Chris, who watches his every move with narrowed eyes. “I'm giving you one chance to get up before I rock your shit.”

“The fuck you mean rock my shit? you can’t- AH!” Chris gets cut off by Nick latching onto his sides and digging his fingers into the fabric of the shirt he’s wearing. The brunette immediately bursts into soft laughter and slides down the sofa, followed by both his hands reaching out to grab Nick's wrists. “BRO! NICK!” The moment Chris plops down onto the floor, Nick stops tormenting the male and looks over at Matt.

“Don’t touch me.” The male states, a single hand raising as he moves back a little.

“Move and I won't touch you.” At Nick’s firm statement, Matt looks back at Finn and sends him an apologetic look before moving over.

“Okay, this isn’t even fair.” Finn frowns as he moves closer to Matt and clings onto one of his arms. “Chris I love you but you gotta check your sensitivity, man.”

“Sorry,” Chris mumbles, letting out a small sigh as he hugs his torso and leans against the front of the sofa.

“Finn, I love you but you gotta let me go or Nick's gonna get my ass,” Matt says, turning around and grabbing both of the older’s wrists to prevent him from grabbing him. Finn's frown deepens at Matt’s statement and allows him to move back a little more on the sofa before he turns his attention to Nick who's already begun to walk up to him,

“Wait! I have a proposition!” Finn exclaims, trying to reason with his boyfriend as he frantically waves his hands in front of him.

Nick sighs slightly and crosses his arms over his chest. “And that is?”

“Come here and I’ll tell you.” At the sight of Finn beckoning the redhead to come closer to him with a single finger, Matt’s jaw slacks and he quickly gets off the sofa and backs up away from the two.

“You guys are fucking disgusting, I hope you know that.” Matt grumbles as he plugs both of his ears with his pointer fingers.

“Are you thinking dirty, Matt?” Finn asks, leaning over to the side of Nick so he can get a better look at the brunette standing across the room, an uncomfortable expression clear on his face.

“Who’s thinking dirty?” Chris asks, his head picking up as he quickly looks between the three boys in the room.

“Matt.” Nick replies, pointing a single finger at the mentioned male.

“Not my fault Finn is making this whole ordeal suspicious as hell. Kid is refusing to tell Nick his ‘proposition’ out loud. Tell me that’s not suspicious!” Matt defends, removing a single finger from his ear to point at Finn who’s slightly smiling.

“God, what’s this proposition? You gonna suck his-“

“NUH-UH!” Nick shouts, immediately clamping a hand over the younger’s mouth before he gets the chance to finish his sentence. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Chris quickly raises both his arms in defense and waits for Nick to remove his hand before he pouts. “Okay, but I wanna hear the proposition. Unless it’s dirty…”

“It’s not dirty!” Finn exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air as he falls back against the sofa cushion.

“Then say it!” Matt exclaims with a small huff.

“I can’t, nick gets embarrassed over this stuff.”

“So it is about-“

“CHRIS!” Nick swiftly bends down and lands a harsh pinch on the brunette’s side, earning a high-pitched scream from the male as he flinches away.

“Okay, fucking Mr. Pinchy.” Chris grumbles as he caresses his now throbbing side.

“Can you just tell me please?” Nick asks, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he turns to face his boyfriend who’s now sprawled out on the sofa.

“Yeah, come here.” Finn replies, extending a single hand out in front of him. Nick immediately takes his hand and walks closer to the taller and crouches down in front of him. “Closer, you idiot.” Nick rolls his eyes and leans in closer, however, Finn shakes his head slightly and grabs the base of the redhead’s neck to pull him in. The quick action draws a small surprised shout from Nick as his chin plops down on Finn’s shoulder.

“No need to be so aggressive.” Nick mumbles, a frown overtaking his lips as he gazes up at his boyfriend. Finn simply rolls his eyes and sits up a little, causing Nick to fall off his shoulder before he leans in towards his boyfriend’s ear. As he whispers something to the male, the younger begins to giggle softly and smashes his ear against his shoulder the moment he stops whispering.

“Did you get what I said?”

“Yeah. Shit just felt really weird.” Finn chuckles as Nick begins to rub his ear against his shoulder.

“What did he tell you?” Chris asks, his voice soft and holding a sense of innocence as he gently tugs on Nick’s pant leg. The older quickly whips his head around at the faint touch and looks down at his brother who’s gazing up at him like a child.

“It’s none of your business.” Nick replies as he crosses his arms over his chest. The male manages to catch Chris gasping dramatically and bring a hand up to his chest before he turns back to Finn. “Tonight?”

Finn hums faintly as he nods. “The first part has to be done before you get it though.” Nick rolls his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips, before he takes a seat on the sofa next to Finn’s head. His boyfriend wastes no time in setting his head in his lap, his face smushing in between his thighs with a content exhale.

Nick allows Finn to get comfortable for a while longer before he begins to card his hand through his hair. The male in his lap hums happily and lands a quick peck on Nick’s clothed thigh before subconsciously leaning into the touch of his boyfriend. After endearingly gazing down at his boyfriend, Nick picks his head up and locks eyes with Matt who’s still standing across the room with a single finger in his right ear and gazing down at the floor.

“Are you going to stand there all night or sit your ass down?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he sends a look toward the male.

“Sorry just thinking.” Matt mumbles, blinking hardly a few times to get back to the present before shuffling back to the sofa. As the male seats himself down on one of the cushions, Chris gets up off the floor and joins him by sitting right next to him.

“About what?” Nick furrows his eyebrows together as he looks over at Matt. The latter forces his lips together in thought and looks down at his nails for a moment before turning over to the older.

“About how you and Finn need to come out to the fans already. Like no offense but you two have been talking about doing it for like what... two weeks now?” Matt diverts the last question to Chris who started eavesdropping halfway into the conversation. The brunette gazes off into the distance to think before he faintly nods his head in agreement. “Why are you two so hesitant? I know you guys want to tell everyone but why do you keep backing out?”

It was now Nick's turn to force his lips into a straight line and grow quiet. Matt was right. Him and Finn have been backing out of this whole situation for quite some time now. As the redhead begins to nibble on his bottom lip, he gazes down at his boyfriend who’s still tucked in his thigh.

He goes to tap the boy to get his attention and chime into the conversation but decides not to when he catches his shallow breathing and soft snores. Realizing that he has no choice but to answer Matt by himself, Nick picks his head up and looks over at his two brothers who are intently looking over at him.

“I don’t know…” Nick starts, dragging out the last syllable as he sighs faintly. “I guess we’re just scared to see how people will react. It’s not like we won’t be able to handle any hate we get, which we both know we’ll get because we’re two fucking gay men, but social media is just a really scary place, you know? People always have to shit on couples, famous or not, because they have nothing else to do. I know- well I hope the fans will be supportive but there is a part of me or rather both of us that believes that some people won’t be.”

“Nick, seeing how both of your fan bases are eating up the content of the two of you, I highly doubt that they’ll send hate when y'all come out. Most of them already know that you guys are dating for crying out loud! I mean, they don’t know they’re right but we know they are. And if people do decide to send unnecessary hate to the two of you, just know that they’re fucking stupid people who don’t have a life.” Chris says, shrugging slightly as he leans back against the sofa.

“Chris!” Matt exclaims, hitting the younger’s shoulder the moment the last sentence registers in his head. The brunette simply raises his hands in defense before Matt adds to the conversation, “Chris is right though. People already have a hunch that you two are together and I’m sure they won’t be surprised when you guys come out. Just do it and get it over with. I know you have numerous stay-at-home dates on your vlog camera that you’ve been wanting to post so you can finally post them after you guys come out and have more space to film more content with the both of you. As I said before, I say do the announcement in a car video or a podcast rather than making a single post about it. If you do it in a car video, you can sneak some photos of you and Finn in our photo dump and even post more on your personal account. It’s all your call but I really do think that the two of you should come out to everyone.”

Nick grows quiet for a moment and shifts his focus back down to Finn who’s still in a deep slumber in his lap. He slowly removes his hand from his boyfriend’s hair to rest his palm on his cheek. As he begins to delicately caress the male��s soft skin, his mind begins to spin about what Matt and Chris told him.

They do have a point… Him and Finn need to stop being scared of their fan bases and come clean about their relationship. They were bound to get some hate, that’s a known fact, but they’ll deal with it one way or another.

Besides, he really wants to post more couple-y content with Finn. Not even couple-y stuff he just wants to post and film more content with Finn in general!

“Alright.” Nick says with a soft sigh. When he lifts his head to focus his gaze on Matt and Chris, he’s immediately greeted with the two of them smiling widely at him. Nick shakes his head as Chris begins to shake Matt’s shoulder out of excitement and waits for the younger male to be done before he continues, “I'll talk to Finn about it in the morning. I think ima take him to bed.”

“Alright. Update us when you guys talk about it please.” Matt says, gaining a small head nod from the older who begins to gently shake his boyfriend’s shoulder. After a few moments, a small whine slips out of Finn’s lips before he turns around to lie on his other side and buries his face into Nick’s stomach.

“Baby, come on. let's go to bed, I know you’re tired.” Nick whispers as he cards his hand through Finn’s hair a few times.

“ ‘m not tired.” Finn mumbles, his words slurring together due to his tiredness.

“You fucking liar. Get up, come on.” Finn whines again when Nick gently pats his thigh.

“Carry me.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“So serious.”

A heavy exhale escapes Nick's lips as he rubs a hand over his face. “Fine. I still need you to sit up though.” Finn grumbles a response before pushing himself up into a sitting position. Nick lightly pushes the male off his leg to stand up before he takes a moment to stretch out his sore limbs.

After he’s composed, he turns to Finn and can’t help but chuckle when he sees the male leaning against the back cushion of the sofa, his eyes shut and steady breaths leaving his slightly parted lips. “You guys see what I have to deal with?” Nick asks, pointing a single finger at Finn as he looks over at Matt and Chris.

“We see. You chose to date him though so I don’t wanna hear you complain.” Matt replies, a small laugh escaping him as he glances over at Finn.

Nick simply rolls his eyes at the brunette's reply before he turns to face his sleeping boyfriend. In one swift movement, he picks the male up and holds him firmly against his chest, a single arm coming underneath his ass to keep him up. As Nick adjusts his hold on Finn, the latter wastes no time in wrapping his arms around the redhead’s neck, followed by his legs wrapping around his waist.

“You’re lucky you’re light. I would've immediately said no to carrying you.” Nick mumbles with a soft huff.

“Would you really?” Finn mumbles, his eyes drifting shut once more as he tucks his head in the crook of Nick’s neck.

“No, I lied.” As Finn giggles softly, Nick tells Matt and Chris goodnight before he starts to make his way up to his bedroom. As he climbs up the steps, he jumps a few times to ensure that he doesn’t drop Finn and to keep his firm hold on him. Once Nick gets up the stairs, he sighs softly and passes the dark and empty podcast studio before arriving at his bedroom door. He proceeds to struggle to open the door for a few moments however he manages to get it open with the help of Finn.

“Thank you, baby.” Finn simply hums in response, too tired to verbally reply, and returns to his spot on Nick’s shoulder as the male enters his bedroom. Before the redhead goes to set his boyfriend down on the bed, he stops in the middle of the room and looks down at him. “Hun?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to do your skincare before you go to bed or do you just wanna go to sleep?”

“I wanna go to sleep. I can do it in the morning, missing one night won’t hurt me.”

“Alright, let’s get you in bed.” Finn hums again, this time a lot quieter, as Nick makes his way to the bed. He carefully removes his boyfriend’s limbs from his body before he lays him down. “Do you wanna change or are you fine with what you have on right now?”

“I'm fine, just come lay down, hurry up. Taking too long.” Nick shakes his head with a soft chuckle at Finn’s impatience and quickly slips his sweatshirt off, leaving him in his plain white t-shirt. After folding and setting the clothing item on the nearby nightstand, Nick finally slips into bed. The moment he goes to pull the blanket over his body, Finn hooks an arm around his torso and pulls him flush against him. The sudden action draws a startled sound from Nick before he relaxes against his boyfriend’s hold, a small smile creeping onto his lips as he pushes his back further against the male’s front half.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about the proposition I made,” Finn says, his voice soft and low as he securely wraps his arms around Nick to spoon the male. The redhead simply hums in response and tilts his head back to look back at his boyfriend. After peering down at him, Finn raises a single eyebrow at Nick and asks, “What is it?”

“Kiss please.” Finn playfully rolls his eyes before bending down and placing his lips on Nick’s. The latter hums contently before the taller pulls back and focuses on bringing the redhead as close as he can to his chest. Once the male is fully against his body, he quickly reaches for the blanket and pulls it over the both of them. After adjusting the large item so they’re both comfortably under it, Finn rests his chin on top of Nick's head and slips a hand up his shirt to absentmindedly trace circles on his side. At the sound of Nick humming, Finn smiles softly and lands a quick peck on the younger’s cheek.

“Goodnight my love,” Finn says as he returns to rest his head atop nicks.

“Goodnight,” Nick mumbles, his response barely audible as he begins to drift off to sleep. It didn’t take very long until both boys fell asleep, the faint sound of their snores being the only audible thing in the room as they slept soundly.

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daisynik7 · 2 years

Text

Rush

Chapter 10: Too Late

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: angst, mild violence at the very end of the chapter

Summary: You end it for good. Eren realizes something a little too late.

Notes: Only one more regular chapter left! Can’t believe it’s almost over 😭. Song is “i don’t wanna fall in love, it’s too late now” by Chase Shakur.

Important Announcement: I will be taking a short break this weekend! I have a wedding to attend and it’s also a long weekend for me, so I will not be posting Chapter 11 until the following week (Sunday, February 26th, 9 PM PST). Sorry for the wait and thank you in advanced for your patience!

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I’m ending this. It’s over. You and me. We’re done.

Eren stares at her, dumbfounded, brain short circuiting trying to comprehend what she said.

“What?” he sputters, sitting up on the bed, still naked, gleaming with sweat and slick from their love making just twenty minutes ago.

“This is the last time. I’m done.”

He jumps off, adrenaline rushing through his body as he quickly slides into his briefs. “I don’t understand. Why? What did I do?”

She drops her heels and purse onto the floor, crossing her arms. “Wow. It must be so nice living with this level of ignorance. Or maybe it’s selfishness, I don’t know anymore. But if you want me to spell it out for you, I can.”

He swallows hard, caught off guard by her flippant demeanor. “Is this because I didn’t take you to formal? I didn’t even dance with her – ”

“It’s not about formal, Eren!” she snaps. “It’s everything! The sneaking around, the manipulating, the disrespect. I can’t take it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“You make me feel ashamed of myself. Make me feel worthless. You didn’t even want to be friends, you had to pretend that I didn’t fucking exist. All you want me for is sex, that’s the only way you acknowledge me. I’m not a fucking sex toy. I’m a human fucking being.”

He’s never seen her so angry. There’s a lump in his throat, making it difficult for him to speak. In a quiet voice, he explains, “I didn’t mean for you to feel that way. I told you, I’m just not ready for people to know about us yet.” It’s a half-assed excuse, he knows that. He never thought about how she was feeling. Or maybe he was too selfish to think about it.

“So you’d rather ignore me than have people know we’re together? Do you realize how fucked up that is? Are you that embarrassed of me? Am I only good enough to fuck and that’s it?” Tears well up in her eyes. She wipes them away before they fall down her cheek. There’s a tightness in his chest engulfing him watching her cry like this.

“No, I –“ he starts, incapable of articulating what he wants to say into words. Instead, he begs, “Can we please go to bed? I promise, everything will be okay in the morning.”

She takes a few deep breaths, responding, “I’m sick of waiting around for everything to be okay. Waiting for you to get over yourself. It’s a waste of time. It’s not fun anymore. I’m unhappy. When I’m with you, I feel gross and dirty. I don’t feel like myself.”

The realization hits as she bares her all to him. She’s hurt. She’s been hurting. And he’s responsible for it. He’s the cause of the pain and anguish that she’s been forced to endure until it became overwhelming. Until her delicate heart couldn’t take it anymore. It’s all his fault.

He reaches out to hold her, console her in the only way he knows how. She flinches away from him, disgusted. “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

In his mind, he only remembers the good memories. The ecstasy, the euphoria, the thrill of sneaking around and indulging in his carnal desires. He turned a blind eye to her obvious apprehension when he first suggested they keep it all a secret. Perhaps he wasn’t blind at all; he saw it but chose to disregard it. Convinced himself that he was doing what was best for himself, and not for the both of them. He’s always been aware how selfish he can be; this is a new low that even he didn’t think he’d stoop to.

She bends down to retrieve her belongings from the floor. Without looking at him, she asks, “Do you even like me, Eren?”

The question stuns him. He’s frozen, voice caught in his throat. Every part of his being is yelling at him to confess what he’s been too afraid to say. Has he even admitted it to himself? His overbearing ego won’t let him. He’s too much of a fucking coward. Jaw tight, staring at anywhere except her, he remains silent. Too fucking scared to face the truth. He’s still trying to tell himself that the feelings he has for her are lust, nothing more. So why does it hurt so much knowing she’s ending it?

“That’s what I thought. I get it now. It was all pretend just to fuck me. To use me. Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted. I hope you’re happy.”

Eren stays in place, feet rooted to the carpet, listening to her walk away and undo the double locks on the door. Before turning the handle, he hears her take a staggered breath. The door shuts with a loud thud and she’s gone.

~~~

You exit the room, taking in a deep breath. It’s over. You did it.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in front of Room 310, laughter audible through the walls. After several knocks, Hitch opens the door, dressed in her pajamas. In the background, you see Annie, Connie, and Armin, also in their PJs, playing cards on one of the beds.

Hitch looks at you, worried. “What are you doing here?”

Annie rises from the bed and stands behind her, staring at you intently.

“It’s over. I ended it.”

Both of their eyes widen. Annie pushes you into the hall, Hitch following, shutting the door.

“Are you okay?” Hitch asks.

“Yeah, I think so. Can I stay in your room for the night? I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“Of course. Let’s go get your stuff.”

You nod, leading them down the hallway into your room, where Mike is sprawled out on the bed, having the best sleep of his life. After refilling his nearly empty glass of water, you quietly grab your bag and tiptoe back into the hallway.

Back in Room 310, you change into comfortable clothes and lounge on one of the beds, emotionally exhausted. Armin and Connie don’t question your sudden presence, which is appreciated. The next few hours pass, letting yourself get distracted by card games and idle gossip amongst your friends. At around 2 AM, the boys fall sleep next to each other on one bed while you, Annie, and Hitch snuggle together in the other. Once they’re snoring, Annie nudges you, whispering, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re bundled between them, comfortable in their warmth and concern. “Yeah. Actually, I think I’m good.”

She snorts. “God, I would kill to see what that asshole’s face looked like when you told him.”

“He seemed pretty shocked,” you mention, recalling the way he started sputtering at you. Your body was surging with adrenaline that you didn’t have a chance to process his reactions properly. “He didn’t really say much though. Maybe he’s relieved that it’s over.”

“I don’t think so. I bet he’s more heartbroken about it than you think,” Hitch says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze

“I doubt it.”

“Either way, it’s done. No more sneaking around, no more drama.”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Good riddance.”

Around 9:00 AM, you wake up and sneak out of the room, sending a short text to Annie letting her know you’re leaving. At the café downstairs, you order a breakfast burrito and coffee to-go. In your room, you find Mike awake, lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone. His face brightens when he sees you walk in, goodies in hand.

“Hey,” he greets, voice hoarse from his hangover.

“Good morning, handsome. Here.” You set the breakfast burrito on the nightstand, where he peers at it, smiling.

“You remembered,” he grins, eyes twinkling with delight.

“Of course. Also,” you reach into your pocket for a small pack of painkillers. “Some aspirin, in case you’re hurting.”

He chuckles, accepting it. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was such a bad date last night.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I forced you to bring me.” You sit at the edge of the bed, grinning at him.

“Well, regardless, I’m happy I brought you.” He places his hand on top of yours, brushing his thumb gently against your skin suggestively. “Can I make it up to you before we check out?”

“Mike, you are the sweetest. But I need to focus on myself for a while. I think I need to be alone for a bit to figure some stuff out.”

He sighs. “I get it. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

You gaze at him affectionately, almost wishing you had a time machine to go back and re-do your entire semester with Mike instead of Eren. Mike deserves to be doted on one thousand percent, and even if you could reverse time, you’re not sure if you could give that to him.

“Can I at least get one last kiss?” he asks, that charming smirk on his face.

Giggling, you lean forward, kissing him. “You definitely need to brush your teeth,” you tease.

“Yep, I just got a whiff myself. I am so sorry. I’ll shower and brush first, then I’ll dive into this delicious burrito.” He gives you a quick peck on the cheek, skipping to the bathroom to start the shower.

Falling against the bedsheets, you stare at the ceiling, pondering. Did your words leave any effect on Eren? He stood there, gawking at you, a dense look on his face. Was it shock? Or does he really not give a shit?

While it was satisfying to let it out, you can’t help being a little heartbroken. You wanted so badly for it to work, for him to like you back. For it to turn into something real. There were moments together that gave you that rush of falling in love. It was electrifying. Exhilarating. To experience it first-hand, even for a few fleeting moments, makes you not regret it entirely.

Confirming that it was all a sham is a difficult truth to swallow. It’s your own fault for disregarding the red flags, ignoring Annie’s warnings, pretending everything was fine when it never was. The only other peace you can gather from all of this is learning from your mistakes. You’re determined to never give yourself to someone who isn’t willing to accept all of you.

When Mike is clean and fresh out of the shower, he devours his breakfast in a few large bites. Once he’s done, the two of you pack your belongings and tidy up, checking out of the room to catch the first bus. Downstairs in the lobby, you spot Annie and Hitch, sipping on their iced coffees next to Armin and Connie. You part ways, leaving him with the other upperclassmen so you can join your friends.

Hitch offers you the remaining drink on the tray. “Morning,” she smiles.

You thank her, sipping on your second coffee of the day, listening to them chat with each other. It could be the caffeine rush, or the adrenaline from last night. Either way, you feel rejuvenated and refreshed. A new beginning. A clean slate.

It doesn’t last long, however. Halfway through your coffee, distracted by your phone, you hear Annie ask in a stern voice, “What do you want now?”

You tilt your head up to investigate, finding Eren standing in front of her.

~~~

Eren wakes up at the end of the bed, legs dangling off the edge. Body slouched against the sheets, feet settled on the carpet flooring. Ready to open the door if she ever returns. She never does.

He fetches his phone off the floor, which fell from his hand overnight. Scanning his notifications, he sees no responses, no call backs. He reviews the series of text messages he bombarded her with, several minutes after her departure:

Eren: Hey

Eren: Please come back

Eren: Let’s talk

Eren: I don’t want this to end yet

Eren: come back

Eren: I’m sorry

Eren: Please talk to me

It doesn’t seem like the messages have been delivered; she must have blocked him. None of the calls he made went through, sending him straight to the generic voicemail that informs him that the number he has dialed is unavailable. He attempted at least ten calls to her last night, desperate to regain control of a situation that exploded in his face. One that he was severely unprepared to handle.

When the sun rises and a stream of daylight shimmers past the curtains, he gets up, having barely slept. He feels like shit. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Is this how he made her feel whenever they were together? After disappointing her time and time again?

Moments before she left him, he had a breakthrough. He was willing to commit to her, after being indecisive for so long. He allowed himself to be vulnerable, declaring��I’m yours, I’m all yours. But it was too late. The contempt on her face as she exposed him for all his filth is cemented in his mind. The tears falling from her eyes, the disgust in her face when he reached out to her. The guilt eats away at him, knowing he’s the whole reason behind it.

Groggy and exhausted, he stumbles into the shower, the hot steam not enough to fill the emptiness consuming his insides. It’s obvious now what he did wrong. He dangled the promise of a real relationship in front of her, toying with her emotions until she finally snapped. He thought he could get away with it, keep her around while he figured out what he wants to do. Not once did he consider her ending it first. He seriously underestimated her.

Maybe it’s better this way. He always planned to end it eventually. He never could bring himself to do it, though. There’s always been a small part of him that wanted to hold onto her for a bit longer.

Packed and ready to check out, he heads downstairs to the hotel lobby, waiting for the first bus to arrive. Armin spots him, waving him over to the couch he’s currently lounging on. “Eren!”

“Hey Armin,” he greets, sitting beside him.

“God, you look awful,” Armin blurts, studying his face.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Eren admits, conscious of the dark circles under his eyes. Trying to change the subject, he asks, “What did you do last night? After formal?”

Smiling, Armin replies, “We hung out in our room. It was fun.”

“Who was all there?”

Armin lists names, the last being hers. Eren lifts his head up, alert. “She was with you last night?”

Confused, he answers, “Yeah, she was.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“Um, probably checking out of her room with Mike. Why?”

“I have to talk to her. I need to see her. Do you know if she’s riding the first bus with us?”

“Uh, I have no idea,” he responds, still perplexed. “Why do you have to talk to her? I didn’t realize you two talked.”

Connie appears and places himself next to Armin, sipping on a coffee cup. “The girls are waiting for the iced coffees. Oh hey, Eren! What’s up man? You look like shit.”

Annoyed, Eren stands and walks away, heading towards the café at the other side of the lobby. He sees Annie and Hitch, waiting for their order at the other side of the register.

“Annie.”

Both girls turn around to face him, Hitch surprised, Annie pissed. “What is it, Jaeger?”

“Where is she?”

Annie smirks. “Who?”

“Stop playing dumb. Armin told me she was with you last night. Where is she?”

Hitch chimes in, “Why do you want to know?”

“I need to talk to her.”

“It’s over, Eren. Leave her alone,” Annie says, glaring at him. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

“You don’t know what she wants.”

“And you do? Are you fucking kidding me?” She steps towards him, ready to fight.

Hitch holds her by the shoulders, whispering, “Annie, don’t.”

He moves back, waving his hands. “Look, I just want to speak to her. Make this right.”

She scoffs. “It’s too late for that, Jaeger. It is way too late for that.”

The barista calls out a number and Annie heads to the counter to retrieve the drinks, leaving Eren alone with Hitch.

“She liked you, you know,” Hitch says quietly. “She really liked you.”

He stares at her, unsure how to respond.

“And she thought that maybe you liked her too.”

“I – ”

“You shouldn’t treat people you care about like that.”

Before he can say anything else, Annie returns, a tray of drinks in her hand. “Let’s go, Hitch. I can’t stand being around this loser any longer.” They both leave, heading for Armin and Connie on the couch.

Eren scratches his head, feeling worse than he did just a few minutes ago. He’s not exactly sure what his plan is. All he knows is that he needs to do some damage control. He never wanted them to be on bad terms. With the way he acted, he realizes now how he set them up for failure. How could he think casting her aside as his dirty little secret would ever end well?

He discovers another couch to sit at while he waits, checking his phone to see if she somehow miraculously unblocked him. No luck. A beacon of hope arrives when he spots her coming out of the elevator, making her way towards Annie and Hitch. Desperate, he makes his way to them, praying that somehow, she’ll find it in her heart to listen to him.

As he approaches them, Annie sneers, “What do you want now?”

He cranes his neck to peer past them, trying to get a good look at her. She faces him once Annie speaks, blinking as if she’s not seeing him correctly.

Hitch and Annie huddle closer together, blocking her from his view. “What do you want, Jaeger?” Annie repeats, tone more threatening.

“I need to talk to her.”

“No.”

“Just leave her alone, Eren.”

Armin and Connie observe them, bewildered. “What’s going on?”

Ignoring his brothers, he repeats, “Please. I need to talk to her.”

“Eren, stop. There’s nothing else that needs to be said. It’s over,” Hitch reiterates, standing firm in place.

“Jaeger, seriously. It’s getting creepy.”

“I just want to talk to her, okay?” He tries to push his way past the two girls, reaching for her. “I need to talk to you, sweetie. Please.”

“She’s not your sweetie anymore, Jaeger. Give it up!” Annie shoves him, causing him to back up against Armin.

Suddenly, Reiner appears, walking towards them, Bertolt close beside him. “What the hell is going on? Why did she shove you, Eren?”

He stands up straight, clearing his throat. “I…I need…It’s nothing. It was a misunderstanding.”

Annie scoffs. “Oh, now you’re afraid to talk? Weren’t you just harassing us about how much you need to talk to her – ”

Reiner interrupts, “Shut up, Annie. Let’s go, Eren. The bus is here. Leave these fucking losers.” He clutches Eren by the scruff and drags him outside towards the bus, watching her eyes follow him out the door.

~~~

Stomping her foot on the floor, Annie growls under her breath, “Fucking assholes.”

Hitch faces you. “Hey, are you alright?”

You swallow hard, replying, “Yeah. That was…weird.”

“He was looking for you earlier too,” she mentions. “Said he wants to talk to you and make things right.”

“If he really wants to make things right, why didn’t he say anything yesterday?” It’s a rhetorical question that you don’t expect anyone except him to know the answer too. You’re not sure if he knows himself.

For a moment, you pity him. You’ve never heard him so desperate. The moment passes once Reiner comes into the picture. And Eren is back to his usual self, too scared to show weakness in front of his big brother. It’s pathetic.

Armin and Connie whisper to each other, understandably puzzled by what just occurred in front of them. Thankfully, they don’t go directly to you asking any questions, letting Annie and Hitch conjure a story to appease their suspicions.

You’re tempted to wait the extra half hour for the other bus to avoid another awkward interaction, but you ultimately decide to board with the rest of your friends. Eren is already sitting in his own seat, the hood of his sweatshirt on, headphones covering his ears. He gives you a swift glance before focusing his attention to his phone. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping the rest of the trip goes smoothly, and he doesn’t decide to do anything erratic.

You sit near the rear, occupying a seat to yourself. You notice him sneak peeks at you every few minutes. The whole ride, you’re anxious about him getting up and ambushing you. Thankfully, he never does.

Back on campus, you dawdle, waiting for him to leave first. Outside, waiting for your bag to be unloaded, Eren doesn’t approach you, deterred by the overbearing presence of big brother Reiner. This might be the only instance in your life that you’ve ever been grateful for that asshole’s company. Once you get sight of your bag, you quickly grab it and hustle out of there, straight for your dorm room.

Why is he still trying to speak to you? Is guilt eating away at him? Does he want to apologize? Could it be that he finally realizes he has feelings for you? Whatever the reason, you tell yourself not to reflect on it too much. If you continue to hope that there’s something there, you’ll never be able to move on from him.

The warning signs were always present. Mikasa addressed it earlier in the semester. He’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants, and sometimes he doesn’t think about how his actions can hurt people. He can be a little selfish. At the time, you brushed it aside, convinced that there weren’t enough feelings involved to get hurt. Now, as you climb your way out of the deep pit you dug yourself in, you wish you took her words seriously.

She arrives to the room about an hour later. “Hey, roomie. Want to get lunch with us? Jean and I are getting burgers.”

You’re in bed, lazy, lost in thought, and quite frankly exhausted. “I’m not that hungry, so go without me. Thanks anyways.”

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

You sit up, putting on the best smile you can. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

She seems skeptical, but relents, saying, “Well I can’t wait to catch up later. I didn’t see you at the end of the night.”

“I went back to the room with Mike and ending up falling asleep,” you lie.

“I see. Anyways, let’s talk later. Jean’s waiting for me outside.”

When she’s back from lunch, you and Mikasa chat about your formal experiences, purposefully omitting any and all details about Eren. Now that it’s officially over, there’s no reason to tell her about it. After all that has happened, you don’t hate him enough to tarnish his reputation to his childhood friend. You don’t have it in you to hate him at all.

~~~

The following week on Sunday night, Eren finds himself lying in bed yet again, belly full of his third instant ramen of the day. Too miserable to leave his room and eat a substantial meal.

The first part of the week, he was okay. Classes and three-hour workouts at the gym served as a proper distraction. He pretended to be fine with it. Tried to convince himself that it’s better this way. He’s free to do anything and anyone he wants, like he always planned.

It only lasted a few days until he started getting in his own head again, feeling sorry for himself, missing her immensely now that he no longer has her. Thursday, he retreated to the comfort of his own bed, the one place that still smells like her, just barely.

He fucked it all up; he knows that. Her words echo in his head constantly, reminding him how awful he’s been the past few months. How selfish he is for not thinking for a second how his actions hurt her. He’ll never forgive himself for making her doubt her worth, for being the cause behind her heartache.

It’s too late to take it all back. Too late to rewind and do things right. He’s living with the consequences of his decisions. Suffering the punishment that the universe is dealing him, and rightfully so. He deserves this.

It was never in his plan to fall for her; even with this, it’s too late. It wasn’t evident to him before. Now, as he buries his nose into the pillow, desperate for any trace of her, it’s clear as day. He likes her.

Has it been building up this entire time right under his nose? He was so confident he had control of his emotions; thought he could play it cool. Keep it casual, no strings attached. All while he kept ignoring the pleasant swell in his chest every time he was with her. Downplaying how utterly attracted he was to every part of her.

Eren despises clichés; however, the phrase you don’t know what you have until it’s gone keeps popping up in his mind. He took her for granted. He was so sure she would never leave, certain he had her wrapped around his finger. Confident that he had total control of the situation. How wrong he was.

Armin notices his sudden change in behavior. For the most part, his roommate leaves him alone to wallow in his own self-pity. Tonight, he doesn’t.

“Eren, are you going to chapter tonight?”

“No,” he responds, remaining under the covers.

“You can’t miss two chapters in a row without a formal excuse. You skipped last week already. Pledges who miss two chapters in a row will be reprimanded.”

He’s annoyed having to hear Armin explain the rules to him. “Make up an excuse for me.”

“Eren, seriously. What’s wrong? You’ve been moping all week, ever since formal. What happened to you?”

The truth is at the tip of his tongue. I’m a fuck up. A major fuck up. I fucked up everything. He wants to spill it to his best friend, seek advice and find comfort that he knows Armin can offer him. Instead, he stays silent, wrapping himself tighter in his blanket.

“Please come to chapter tonight. It’ll be good to get out of the room. See some people.”

It takes a few minutes, but Eren reluctantly leaves and takes a much needed shower. In order to redeem himself, he has to be honest with her. No more lies, no more manipulation. He has to wear his heart of his sleeve, as she did for him. It’s still not enough, but maybe it’s a start. She still has him blocked in all forms of communication. And nobody else in his life knows about their secret affair, aside from Annie and Hitch, who he is certain will not lend a helping hand. Getting out of bed seems like the first step to putting this new plan into action.

His roommate waits for him to walk to the Alpha Tau house together. There, he is greeted by his pledge brothers, to which he tries his best to appear normal.

At chapter, he sinks into his seat, barely listening to the agenda. Racking his brain for any inspiration on how to fix the mess he created. Near the end, Erwin announces something that does spark his interest.

“Next semester, we are going to elect a new sweetheart for Alpha Tau. For those of you who don’t know, a sweetheart is a woman who represents the fraternity and all of our values. She will become an honorary member of our organization, partaking in our many events, including fundraisers and social gatherings. We want someone who is friendly, kind-hearted, and involved on campus. Historically, they are affiliated with a sorority, though not required. Unfortunately, due to last semester’s troubles, our last sweetheart withdrew from her position, which is completely understandable. Now that we are back in the good graces of the university and the other organizations, I believe it is a great time to elect a new sweetheart.”

Levi adds, “Girlfriends are allowed to be nominated. Keep in mind, we as a fraternity will be voting on who will be the sweetheart, majority rules. Please don’t take it personally if your girlfriend is not selected.”

Erwin shuffles through his papers, ready to jot down some notes. “Alright. Any nominations?”

Immediately, Jean rises from his seat to nominate Mikasa. Armin grins, seemingly supportive of this suggestion.

Slouched in his seat, Reiner yells out, “Sandra, from Delta Mu.”

Erwin notes this. “Anyone else?”

Sweetheart. The only person Eren can think of who encompasses that title is her. On impulse, he sticks his hand and nominates her.

Armin turns to stare at him, baffled. Reiner cranes his neck to leer at him, repulsion and confusion etched on his face.

Mike whoops and yells out, “I second that nomination. I didn’t know you two were friends, Eren. Good shit.”

He ignores Mike’s comments and bows his head towards the floor, avoiding the stares from his best friend and big brother. A few more women are suggested before the meeting ends.

Armin follows Eren down the stairs, whispering, “Why did you nominate her? I didn’t even know you two were friends.”

They stand in the living room, slightly away from the crowd of brothers gathering near the TV to watch the end of a basketball game. In a soft voice, Eren responds, “Well, we aren’t friends necessarily. It’s complicated, but I can explain. For the past few months, her and I have been – ”

“Eren, what the actual fuck, man?” Reiner interrupts, his tone loud and obnoxious as he descends the stairs, Bertolt tailing him, per usual. “Have you lost your fucking mind? You picked a Sigma Nu Kappa? What the fuck?”

Armin intervenes. “Reiner, calm down – ”

“I’m not talking to you Arlert, shut the fuck up. Eren, why did you nominate that Sigma Nu Kappa?”

He doesn’t respond, annoyed and fed up with Reiner’s constant hostility and outrageous behavior, especially now. Bertolt stays behind him with the same pathetic expression, always hovering his best friend like a lost puppy dog.

“I knew it. You’re fucking her aren’t you?”

Eren glares at him, muscles tense, fists tight. He grits his teeth, keeping silent.

Reiner continues. “I saw you two at formal, outside the bathrooms. Think you’re slick, don’t you?”

“Formal?” Armin interjects, the pieces starting to align in his head.

“Figured you were too drunk to care, so I let it slide. Then all that shit happened with Annie. Then I knew something was going on.”

Armin twists his head back and forth between the two brothers, unsure how to alleviate the situation. Eren still doesn’t respond, cheeks hot, eyes narrowed, fingertips tingling. Listening with disdain as Reiner continues to berate him.

“And tonight. Jesus fucking Christ, Eren. You disappoint me. Of all the girls you could have fucked, you had to choose her. What a goddamn shame.”

He clenches his fists tight, disgusted by every word this comes out of this fucking prick’s mouth, as if he’s hearing this type of shit talk for the first time. However, it’s worse now than it’s ever been before. It’s personal.

“All these hot sorority girls and you choose an ugly Sigma Nu Kappa bitch – ”

Bam.

Like a crack of thunder, Eren’s knuckles connect with Reiner’s jaw.

~~~

You’re in pajamas browsing the Internet on your laptop when you hear Mikasa gasp in bed across from you. You watch her, concerned, as she hops off, hastily changing into sweats.

“I have to go,” she announces, scrambling to collect her keys.

“Are you okay? What’s happening?” you ask, sitting up.

With a somber expression on her face, she says, “Armin just texted me. Eren got kicked out of Alpha Tau.”

----------

End Notes: See you back in two weeks for the finale of Rush!

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