#the way she looks at carla before she catches herself and looks away

[luthqrs]

alright ds hot stuff?

[birgittesilverbae]

How do you think Shannon reacted to being told she was next in line for the Halo?

Sister Carla's body isn't yet cold where it lies in the undercroft when Mother Superion calls for Shannon to attend her. They walk the perimeter of the grounds in slow, careful lockstep and Shannon can't help but remember how they had once raced each other across the parapets, how she had again and again and again fallen panting in the grass with a practice blade at her throat. She can still see flickers of that young woman in Suzanne from time to time, when Vincent makes a particularly daft suggestion or one of Shannon's pranks blows up in her own face, the way her head tilts and her eyebrow quirks up, the slight turn as though looking for someone to share the humour of the situation with. 

Now, though, as so often is the case, she walks fully shrouded in the vestments of Mother Superion, an acid bite to her tongue tempered only by the fatigue of living past loss after loss after loss. She pauses by the front gates, the handle of her cane cradled in both hands in front of her as she leans heavily on it. It's always the longest days that take the most out of her, Shannon has noticed, but she knows far better than to even attempt to make an offer of aid. 

"I spoke with Sister Anna upon her return," Mother Superion says. Her hands are steady on the cane, but there's something about her posture, something about the aching curve of her back, that sends alarm sirens blaring through her body.

"You've chosen the new Next in Line, then," she replies, her voice steady, working carefully around the dread seeping into her bones. "It is sooner than I had hoped that Lilith would be asked to bear that weight, but–"

"Hardly. You and I both know that Lilith is not ready to carry that burden without bending beneath it." 

The honesty of it startles a confused "Mother?" from her, fear surging hot and sharp through her veins. "You don't mean Beatrice, surely."

"You never have been good at seeing the truth of what's right in front of you, child." Mother Superion turns to Shannon, raises a hand to touch her cheek. "You have always wanted so badly to be useful to your family, have you not?"

Shannon's breath catches in her throat. "I'm not fit–"

"You are, Shannon. You are more than deserving of this gift." Mother Superion's gaze slides from hers, downcast. "And you know better than most the cost."

The aching curve of Suzanne's back as she knelt over a woman turned corpse by a bullet she should have taken in her stead. The tantalising scent of seared flesh as the Halo freed itself from Suzanne's back, the month Shannon had spent waving away portions of meat at dinner service. Until Mother Superion, two days back from convalescence and already shrouded in black, had laid a steak before her and refused to let her rise until she'd choked down every last bite. 

The Halo a bullet she could catch in Lilith's stead, in Beatrice's, putting herself in their path in the faint hope that she could give them a year, six months, any time at all without the threat of this burden. She could bear it if it meant they didn't have to. She could, even if it meant Mary would never forgive her. She could. She could.

[free-for-all-fics]

The Craft and The Lost Boys crossover prompt! This was inspired by a dream I had. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of the ideas below and I’d love to read it! ❤️🩸

You fall in with a group of witches after you witness Nancy Downs murder your brother, Chris. She threatens you to keep quiet about it or else. The witches don’t welcome you into their coven but you learn the hard way that there are worse fates than death when you’re still forced to hang out with them. They can’t risk you exposing their secrets but if they killed you, especially so soon after your brother’s death, it’d look too suspicious. The only witch you like and get along with is Sarah Bailey; she’s different from the other outcasts at school. She’s a natural born witch and is much more powerful than the others but maybe hasn’t realized it yet. Nancy is power-hungry, lacks empathy and often engages in reckless behavior that endangers herself and others, Bonnie is aggressively narcissistic, and Rochelle is bitter and vengeful. The three of them start abusing their powers and misusing their magic. Unlike them, Sarah is really sweet and has a lot of self-control over her powers. She treats you like a friend and has your back despite the circumstances.

You’re dragged into joining them on a girls trip to Santa Carla - the murder capital of the world! By the time you get there, it’s night and the boardwalk is crowded and bustling with many attractions such as tattooers, piercers, shops, rides, music, and more. Performing on center stage is The Lost Boys, one of the hottest rock bands in the country, fronted by Michael Emerson. He and his band members are local heartthrobs; They’re all devilishly handsome and talented young men who seem to have it all. Their stage presence is incredibly sexy and alluring, almost provocative with how they love to strip and tease during their sets. The way they dance and move to their frenetic music is almost hypnotic. Word on the street is that Michael replaced the former vocalist shortly after he moved here with his mother Lucy and little brother Sam. He’s always seen hanging out with The Lost Boys after dark, especially David.

You have such a huge crush on Michael at first sight but who doesn’t? While watching him perform, you feel as if his eyes are piercing straight through your soul and he’s singing only to you. But c’mon, who are you kidding? The thought that he’d notice you out of the hundreds in the crowd is pure fantasy. But maybe that fantasy has a chance of becoming reality when you slip away from Nancy and her fellow witches (possibly in part thanks to Sarah causing a distraction and/or covering for you). You catch the attention of boardwalk security guards and try to explain you witnessed your brother’s murder and need help, but there’s been so many murders in Santa Carla they’ve become desensitized to it. It’s the murder capital of the world, kid. Have you not seen the missing posters littered everywhere? When you mention witchcraft, they laugh in your face and assume you’re on drugs and making shit up. They ignore you and walk away before you can even tell them the murder didn’t take place in this city. God fucking dammit.

Michael overhears your plight and is willing to help you get back at Nancy for what she did to your brother. While talking to him, you keep nervously glancing over your shoulder as hairs raise on the back of your neck from the feeling that the witches may be waiting nearby and closing in on you. Michael notices how scared and uneasy you are, so he offers to take you somewhere private where you won’t be disturbed. You know you shouldn’t hitch a motorcycle ride with a man you just met and let him take you to an unknown location in an unfamiliar city that’s the murder capital of the world, Stranger Danger and all that, but fuck it.

You meet David, Paul, Dwayne, and Marko at their cave. They’re practically Michael’s brothers and welcome you to the club (even if they pull pranks on you and mess with your mind a little bit with their vampire powers before Michael tells them to knock it off.) They urge you to spill and tell them all the deets about what’s going on, so you tell them everything about the absolute hell you’ve been through because of Nancy and her outcast witch friends. After listening to your story and deliberating quietly amongst themselves, they agree to take care of the witches for you so they never bother you again. Do you want them dead or alive, babe? Do you want them to be scared to death or just plain scared so that they leave town forever? You tell them to spare Sarah since she’s your friend and respects the laws of magic. While she put that love spell on Chris that went awry and inadvertently played a part in his death, it was an accident on her part and she didn’t mean any harm. She just wanted to be loved. She regretted her actions and tried to find a way to undo her spell on Chris, but failed. But the rest of the witches are fair game for the boys to do whatever they want.

Hell fucking yeah, this calls for a toast! They pass you an ornate wine bottle and tell you to drink up, baby! It’s been a very long night for you. Hell, you’ve had several very long nights ever since your brother’s murder. You haven’t really had time to mourn him before now. You could really use a drink, so you chug from the bottle without even thinking about it while the boys applaud and cheer. Unbeknownst to you Michael and the Lost Boys are vampires, and you’re Michael’s mate. Vampires are immune to witches’ magic since their hearts are no longer beating and thus can’t be swayed - but witches are not immune to vampire mind tricks since they’re still technically human, living and breathing. Their flesh tears from their bodies just as easily as ordinary humans, and there’s no protection or warding spells against vampires - so feeding from them should be easy. They’ll come up with an insidious plan and help you get retribution for Chris’ wrongful death.

You might regret letting the boys do whatever they want to Nancy and her friends after you learn the full extent of their true nature, but it’s too late to take it back now. The deal has already been struck. In just a few days, you won’t be human anymore either. Michael will be there for you when you begin to change into a half vampire. It’s painful and confusing; your heart feels like it’s on fire, your lungs feel like they’re filled with water, you feel like you’re dying - because you are. He’ll comfort you (possibly with sex) and teach you everything. David, Paul, Marko, and Dwayne will help you too. Maybe Nancy or one of her witch friends will be your first meal. You’ll need to feed to complete the transformation and become a full-blooded vampire. Have you ever had witches’ blood, baby? It’s a rare delicacy but is absolutely delectable. It just hits different than regular human blood. It’s to die for, literally!

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks to my very dear @gracehosborn for the tag!

I am very slowly catching up on these - I have way too many saved

But the good news is my drafts are slowly starting to clear

My words: run, blood, clear, realization

Your words: intense, devote, sign, bare

Tagging @writernopal @writeintrees @ohnomybreadsticks @oh-no-another-idea @the-stray-storyteller @pluppsauthor @orphanheirs @memento-morri-writes @rjcopeseethemald @revenantlore + anyone else who wants to!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

Keep reading for:

Lexi looks for Ash

Meet Wade and Parker

Lexi and Ash discover the gateway

Gwen gets a mini-lesson in Alii powers

Run - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I gave Carla Baxter a half-smile back, turned around, and headed in the direction she had pointed. As I walked away, I couldn’t help but wonder if she told the truth about Ash’s whereabouts. But what choice did I have? It was the only lead to find Ash. Unless Carla Baxter took Ash herself. But that was a worst-case scenario, and if true, I’d run back and rescue her myself. I reached the forest’s edge, frantically looking around. The brilliant colors that captured my aesthetic attention upon my arrival were now nauseous and overstimulating. I closed my eyes, reaching my hand up to pull and twist my braids. I took a deep breath before opening my eyes. “Ash!” I yelled as I cupped my hands to my mouth. I was met with silence. Obviously, I scolded myself. Why the frick would she be here? The forest was dense and vast—she could theoretically be anywhere. Clues. Maybe there would be a sign of the direction she went. I looked down to see if there were any imprints where she may have stepped. Most of the ground appeared untouched, but my eyes rested on a patch of flattened red ferns a few yards away. I ran toward them, then kept looking at the forest floor. The colorful leaves covering the ground appeared crunched, like someone had staggered through them shortly before I arrived. I followed the path they appeared to make. “Ash!” I called, hoping I was closer. Still, there was nothing.

Blood - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

“Do it!” Parker said to the blond without missing a step. “Man, I don’t—” “You gotta practice, Wade.” Parker reared back his arms over his shoulder before thrusting forward, his arms out and stance strong. A strong wind blew across the room, and I could feel it from where I stood. Wade’s hair blustered around his face, and he held up his arms in a protective “X” in front of his face. He pushed forward against the wind. Once close to Parker, Wade punched the kid in the face, sending Parker over the barricade. I let out a squeak of alarm, bringing my hands up to my mouth as Parker crumpled beside me. As I wondered if I’d have to perform more first aid, and despite the blood on his face, Parker laughed. “Finally,” he said as Wade leapt over the barricade and went to Parker’s side. “Yo, it’s been years and you finally give it your all.” “That wasn't my all,” Wade said, holding his palm over Parker’s face. A white light glowed around his hand. “I’ve tackled people much bigger than your string-bean self to the ground.” “Yeah, but they were wearing football gear.” “Stop talking,” Wade instructed. “You’re gonna mess up the healing.”

Clear - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“It seems weird,” I said looking at her as I turned around the corner of the school. “Like—ah!” My boot got caught on the grass, causing my feet to slip. I tumbled onto the ground and dropped my violin, the “oof!” that followed indicating Ash tripped over the sturdy case. It was eerily quiet and the smell of the exhaust was gone. I became hyper-aware of the grass I lay in and shot up to a seated position, jumping when I realized nothing was in sight but a dizzyingly-clear horizon. Ash groaned beside me. “Since when does Falcon have grass—” She cut herself off as she pushed herself upright, taking in the sudden new scenery. We sat in the middle of a seemingly endless field. The grass that stretched in each direction appeared freshly mowed, though it lacked the smell that usually came with it. Instead, a chillingly sterile air hit my nose. “Ash,” I asked, low-key freaking out, “where are we?” Ash looked around. “Where did—how did we get here? Where’s the school?” I couldn’t answer. The sun that had been burning in the late afternoon was no longer casting a deathly heat paired with Houston humidity. In fact, looking up, the burning mass seemed to be missing, despite the sky being a soft periwinkle.

Realization - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

I turned my head to see Gwen crouching down beside Robbie. “What’re you two doing here?” “Following you,” I admitted. “Do you know what the freak-out is about?” I shook my head. “Probably a Class Four.” Gwen furrowed her eyebrows. “Class Four?” “The rarest powers,” I explained. I gestured to Robbie. “Like energy conversion. Or dimensiokinesis, like your friend Rosalinda.” “Is that a power?” Gwen asked. “It sounds like you smashed a keyboard.” “Dimensio-kinesis,” I repeated slower. “Basically Rosalinda can sense other universes and dimensions and probably cross to them.” Gwen’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped in realization. “I think that’s how she managed to get us to Alium! Rose saw a mirage before anyone else, she heard a hum no one else heard!” Gwen smiled. “Oh my gosh, this all makes sense now!” “Hey, will you two please stop jabbering?” Robbie hissed. “They’re talking!”

[pierspice]

@fangspice sent in: ❛  that's it, just let go. let yourself feel good.  ❜

Ever since she was a little girl, Star had it imbedded in her head she was to 'remain pure' until her wedding night, giving herself to the man she had married, and no one else before. That way of thinking for her soon changed however, once she had been taken aboard the Santa Carla with David at the helm. Their romance was almost too fast, but how could it be anything but when they spent the most time together?

They weren't married, not by any means, but when desires had grown too high and the kisses too feverish, one thing was bound to lead to another that night. David had asked her if she was certain as he laid her down, telling her that if anything was uncomfortable to let him know, and in response, all Star had done was touched his cheek above her, and reached up for a kiss. Clothes fell to the floor, his mouth pressing kisses to her exposed body, his hands charting it as if it was an old map, so carefully, before tucking between her thighs. It was no surprise at all the pirate knew his way around a woman's body, gasping in surprise and pleasure as he curled the finger inside her, figuring out what made her specifically tick. Breathing hitches in her throat as she feels David press kisses to her neck and collarbone, before moving his hand away and looking at her with such care, love and lust intermingling in his blue eyes.

She nodded, spreading her legs more to allow him room between them, one of his hands instantly finding hers and locking their fingers together. Only a small bit of pain, her hand tightening the grip she held with his, as his forehead pressed against hers, waiting for her to relax before beginning to move. His breathing at the start alone settled any nerves she held, as soft whines and gentle, breathy moans began to fall from her lips. Star's fingers pressed into David's shoulders as the sensation inside her grew, sure she felt tears in her eyes from the ecstasy, when his voice, ragged, reached her ears.

So, she did as he told her, and let herself go, let herself feel good, entire body tensing for only a moment, brown eyes tightening closed as she came undone. A sensation of pure bliss she had never felt before washed over her, a small, sharp breath catching in her throat. And as she came down from that high, hairline damp from sweat, Star waited until he moved off her before she felt an arm around her waist. Turning over to look at him, a hand moved back sandy blond hair, Star offering a genuine, but sleepy, smile.

[separatedway]

Ada sets down her attache case on the counter, flipping it open to retrieve her outfit for the next phase of infiltration. She discards the dripping, black coat and grey wetsuit and retrieves a towel to pat down her body of any residual droplets before she could touch up her makeup.

"Most normal people's passwords are dates or One-Two-Three-Four. You would be surprised how often that works in breaking into security terminals."

Or maybe not.

Ada brushes her hair out of her face, encouraging her bangs to dry. She listens to Carla's declaration of the order of operations: Secretary first, then Marshall.

She wraps her towel around her chest, tucking the corners in and twisting it over the mound of her breasts to keep it secured in place, turning to face Carla, and speak-

But she freezes, shocked silent seeing the exit wound of her own bullet wound she got from Annette Birkin while trying to infiltrate NEST.

This is the first time she's seen it so clearly.

Carla struggles to conceal the marks from the wound with makeup, twisting over her shoulder, and under it to try to clean away the blemish.

Ada remembers going through the same motions, when the wounds were a lot fresher, frantically trying to cover them up, and conceal them for a mission she wasn't anywhere near ready for. The sting of the foundation as the motions tore the edges of her scabbing, and the wet on her face from crying without realizing it.

These are Ada's wounds, not mine! She'd declared to herself, desperately trying to get rid of the frustrating persona, alienated from feelings she had that she couldn't name that came crashing down on her so suddenly out of nowhere.

She'd resolved later, after a lot of confusion at her own state, that she couldn't abandon Ada's persona. Maybe she really was Ada, after all.

And then, it sinks in that Carla shares her wounds. That Carla represented herself from a very specific moment in time. The wound on her shoulder, the gashes on her abdomen reflected on the surfaces in front of her, and the dark splotch on her thigh- all came from Raccoon City.

"You have my prints on file?"

"Oh, I have much more than that. You'll see."

Simmons image sneered at her, Carla's games leading Ada down very treacherous paths, with snippets and clues as her reward for participating. All the way to Tall Oaks, where the video, "Happy Birthday, Ada Wong," was waiting for her.

Simmons didn't just have her prints. He had DNA to make a genetic copy of her person, down to scar tissue.

And now she knew where he had gotten it.

The memory of the Chinese luxury fusion restaurant, sitting down with Simmons and a young girl, handing over her report, and declaring the end of her contract for numerous mishaps that she'd incurred at his hands. And for the reason she kept to herself: she didn't feel safe being around him. The girl was mute, until she wasn't- a kid savant. She started to spell out her name in sign language- but Ada didn't catch all of it when Simmons demanded her attentions again.

R-a-

Radames.

Ada ordered a glass of water. She kept it in her sight at all times, and kept it close, in case he would try to drug it. She only took a sip of it.

Her lip print on the glass. Her saliva in the water.

That bastard kept her DNA the entire time.

She closes her lips, and steps forward, taking her own concealer out to cover the wounds.

"Here," she offers, coating the blemish evenly, "I have setting spray too, to keep it from rubbing off."

Ada's dress covered her wounds. She didn't need it.

"Secretary, then Marshall," she agrees, "We're looking for a PDA?"

"Aren't you an ace with the guesses."

She holsters her hookshot while the cable hisses back into the drum, drawing back the hood to her coat and shucking the entire thing off to pack into the duffel and swap tactics. When all was said and done, she's more a grenade em' and go gal, but let it not be said she's no good at subterfuge. She'd been trained spectacularly on the subject.

Carla moves through what looks like a staff lounge, finding a lightswitch and flipping on the interior space. A lounge was fine enough and they had a little bit of privacy. She doesn't mince words or waste time either, time for phase two of the assignment.

The wetsuit is unzipped and set to the side, strolling a few steps to comb her hair back with her fingers while her core temperature dried her off. She slid on the too formal black halter dress, thumbing the bullet wound on her shoulder and fishing for a compact out of her bag with skin foundation to cover the spot with a sponge.

"Secretary first."

They have to find her somewhere in the space below. Among the sound of the storm outside and the swinging music below. Sounded like bebop and drinking. the afterparty. There were a couple hundred invited and the entire ship was fair game for this lavish affair.

Carla pats the front of her shoulder with the sponge, and takes effort to try and do the back.

She doesn't remember getting shot in the shoulder. Just like she doesn't remember the gash on her ab. Or the puncture in her thigh. Those were three mysteries she couldn't solve, or her mind dreamed up stories where she might have gotten them.

They're nuisances, and always were.

Derek used to cover them for formal events like this. Shows, plays, weddings... She'd had it covered at her wedding. Fuck.

Carla sighs, setting the sponge down on the table occupied with a couple on-site radios and people's left lunchboxes.

Everyone must be at the party.

"-Secretary than Marshall."

[the-faceless-bride]

OMGOSH THIS IDEA HIT ME LIKE FREAKING TRAIN OKAYYY HEAR ME OUT how about poly lost boys with Michael and star or separate with a s/o who is a Queen and bonus is a runaway cuz let's say her servants or the people who are in the castle want reader dead so reader runs away and ends up in Santa Carla what would the reactions be and how would it go down.. Also sorry if I'm bothering or overwhelming you I just have all these ideas and I want someone to talk to about them because well here my family doesn't wanna heat about so it's just me myself and I and I just wanna tell my ideas to someone so sorry if I'm overwhelming you ☹ but take as much time as you need to rest to just refresh yourself♡

(Please tell me your ideas I'm more than happy to hear them)

🍑 Save the Princess 👑

You were probably running trying to get through the group of people as fast as you could, your soft pink mid-calf dress swaying and you're heels clacked against the boardwalk. Your hair is puffed up and tied in ribbons, your makeup soft but glamorous.

You weren't paying attention to entranced by the bright lights and loud noises to notice you were about to walk into someone, feeling a hard force causing you and the person you bumped into fall the floor.

You sit for a moment processing you've just walked into someone, looking up and rushing to stand holding your hand out for the person to take;

"I'm so sorry, I should've been watching where I was going!" You look down at a girl with beautiful wild brown hair, her darker tan skin catching the glow of the bright attraction lights, her outfit breezy and colorful, she was beautiful,

She smiled up at you "it's alright!" She says cheerfully taking your hand and picking herself up. Exchanging names and explaining you were new to Santa Carla she offered to show you around the boardwalk,

Going around doing the rides, playing games, and running around the beach was tiring, she noticed and asked if you had to be getting home soon, when you told her you didn't have a home the girl you've come to know as Star showed a look of concern, she then offered to take you home with her...

Star walked you down the boardwalk to a small lot full of bikes, she then sat on one that had some light blue and yellow stars drawn along it and said to hope on.

After Star was turned along with Michael she was given her very own bike to ride, you both laughing feeling the wind whipping through your hair, Star had pulled her hair back into a high pony to keep it out of the way.

Getting to the cave, you didn't judge that she lived in a cave, some people had to make do with what they had and she did, you had to respect her for that, she take you to her and Michaels nest, you gave you a soft white dress to change into so you wouldn't have to stay in your tight princess attire

You both were reading, laughing, joking, painting each others nails when Star suddenly went quiet, she looked focused like she was focused on something really hard, you were about to ask if she was alright when the sound of loud and fast footsteps could be heard echoing through the cave walls

Well, one set of footsteps were faster than the others, turning around to see what all the noises were you were met with a boy with blue eyes and curly black hair he didn't even notice you were there as he rushed to Star telling her she scared him and not to disappear like that and shortly after him four more boys walked in

"Who's the babe?" A tall blonde said as he looked you up and down before nudging the smaller curly-haired boy next to him, causing the little one's cherub face twist into a devilish smirk; "she is a friend." Star says eyeing the four boys firmly and they look to her as a quiet conversation takes place, after a moment or two of silence a bleach blonde speaks up, "you got a name kitten?" You looked at him with a blush before giving him your name and the little blonde giggles "a cute name for a cute girl"

From that point on you were going to stay with them princess, no if's, and's, or but's

Dwayne loves doing your hair in cute styles and pretty ribbons

David likes to have you perched up in his lap as he plays with the ends of your dresses

Paul likes to 'pester the princess' as the others like to call it and will randomly tug on your dress or hide your shoes

Marko likes to make you dresses, he knew a little about it but only for patches, but he took the time to learn about actually making clothes for you

You sat in your little nest as Dwayne stood behind you brushing your hair, lightly twisting a strand of your hair between his fingers with a soft smile. David had his head in your lap as his hands traced along your legs and dress, Marko working on the new idea he had about making a mishmash dress with all the extra colorful fabrics he had laying around.

After a moment Dwayne finished brushing and turned to put your hair up.

"Where did that hair pin go?"

Que Paul giggling in the background

When they find out why you came to Santa Carla in the first place they weren't the happiest Vampires in the world... In fact, they were pissed

Why the hell would anyone wanna hurt you? Your... So perfect!! What the hell??!!

They all plan to jeep you there and they are fully prepared to fight and kill to keep you there with them

Don't worry princess, they've got you 💜���

[eremiie]

karma;

❥ 16k words | nsfw | eren x fem!reader

❥ content - eren eats reader out,, eren also fucks reader ;)

❥ you don’t care much for eren’s fuckboy habits until he fucks over your friend, and you’re left to deal with the consequences. and eren’s left to deal with a revelation neither of you saw coming

this is based off the song karma by summer walker, so feel free to take a listen!

"i just don't get it— like how foul could you be? if he didn't like me that's all he had to say, not play me like i'm some dummy,"

"historia," you stopped her ramble with a sigh, lifting your hand up as a gesture to say 'stop'.

"i told you, you should've just got with me." ymir snorted, throwing her hand around historia's shoulder, the blonde pouting, her eyebrows furrowing.

you place a hand on historia's lower back and gave her a condescending look. "i told you that you shouldn't mess with him, i wasn't trying to be dramatic or anything when i said that— i know eren... i gave you a heads up and you ignored it."

historia rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. "i didn't ignore it, i just... thought it'd be different."

you scrunched your face up and pinched the bridge of your nose. "why exactly did you think it would be different?"

"instead of giving historia shit, _____," ymir emphasized your name, squinting her eyes at you. "why can't i just rock him? a good punch to the face is maybe just what he needs—"

"ymir, punching him will not solve anything. plus, i doubt historia wants you to punch him either."

"she can speak for herself, idiot. historia, my love, would you like me to knock eren out?"

historia sighed. "no, i don't want anyone to get knocked out. this is so confusing... and not to interfere with your friendship or anything but how can you just go hang out with him right after?"

you looked down at historia, removing your hand from her back and giving her a raise of your eyebrow, looking forward to wear the three of you were headed. you were going to hang out with eren; he was your closest friend who you met in middle school, and now shared a dorm with. it was finally spring break, and as his bestfriend you were invited to spend some time with him and his family for the vacation. eren had you pack bags for the weekend and wanted you to meet him in the front of the building, so that's where your feet were taking you while you conversed with your friends you met on your way. "historia, i said i told you not to fuck with him, what happens between you and eren doesn't have anything to do with me." historia frowned at you and looked down at her crossed arms and you felt a small sense of guilt curdling in your stomach. "i'll talk to him though."

"right now? cause he's right there." ymir said using her head to tilt towards the benches once she pushed the large doors to the outside open. you looked up and ymir was right, from a distance was eren standing up next to a shag of blonde hair and two other people that you couldn't identify as they weren't facing you. almost on cue, eren looked up, head whipping to your figure and a small smirk creeped up on his face until his eyes landed on the two next to you, that smirk dissipating almost just as fast, and him quickly averting eye contact, mumbling something that caused the rest of his acquaintances to turn their heads around. you shook your head and patted historia's shoulder noticing she was glaring at eren, but not as hard as ymir.

"yes, now... uh, i'll catch you guys later." you said waving off to them. "don't worry too much about him historia." and with that you began walking off towards eren. you studied his appearance, hair lazily threw back into his signature messy bun while stray pieces shied away from it. he wore a simple grey sweatshirt with black sweatpants to complete the lazy look, white sneakers on his feet, and when you trailed your eyes back to his face a boyish smile was present.

"hey." eren said simply, arms stretched out to pull you into a warm hug that you reciprocated, your arms wrapping around his midsection as he snuggled you into him, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"hey, eren." you cheesed, pulling back to wave to the rest of the group. "eren's brother," you watched zeke chuckle from where he was seated. you used your finger to point to yelena after, "yelena, pieck and porco!"

"i'm assuming you know my name and you're just being a fool." zeke announced, making you giggle and place your hand on top of his blonde locks. although you didn't see the upperclassmen much, you had no problem remembering their names, especially zeke and pieck as you saw them the most.

"right, of course i know your name, zeke." you smiled. "but what's the gathering about eren?" you motioned to the clutter of people, looking towards eren who's eyes were already on you.

zeke was faster than eren, answering the question before him causing eren to narrow his eyes at his older brother. "eren, my favorite brother here wants to take my car to see his mom and my dad."

you laughed at his words, the enunciation on the last part of his sentence making eren's eye twitch. "first of all i'm your only brother." eren said, rolling his eyes.

"and you guys share the same dad." you grinned as zeke nodded his head at your clarification, another burst of laughter being let out by you and pieck who shook her head at zeke's antics.

"hi, _____, it's been a while since i've seen you." pieck said, waving her hand as well, her head laid down against the surface below her.

"hey, pieck," you slid down onto the bench taking a seat beside her, porco's hand snaking around her back instinctively. "yeah it has, but that's because you're a year above me." pieck chuckled and nodded her head.

"precisely..." she hummed, moving a strand of raven black hair out of her face, eyes trained in the direction ymir and historia walked off. "who were the girls giving eren the dirty eye?"

your eyes followed pieck's. "oh, historia... and ymir." of course, her out of everyone would notice that. you silently praised pieck for being so observant. you looked up at eren to see him avoiding your gaze, his bouncing left to right.

"what did eren do this time?" zeke asked you, propping his head up on his palm as if he was genuinely interested in the conversation, although you were sure it was just to make fun of eren. pieck gave a confused look, her eyebrows coming together as she glanced between the brothers and you.

"more like what did the girls do to eren." yelena said calmly, a bored expression present on her face, her arms crossed leaning forward on the table.

you averted your stare at eren and propped your arms up on the table like yelena. "well, the blonde girl likes eren and they were talking or something, and um... he was messing with some one else at the same time. she's not happy about that, even though i told her not to mess with him."

"so what i'm hearing is it's her fault for messing with him after you told her not to? lesson learned." yelena scoffed, her large eyes portraying a mocking sorrowful expression.

eren shifted uncomfortably at the new eyes on him, letting out an exasperated sigh. "listen,"

"eren, you really can't defend yourself here." zeke cut him off, eyes widening to poke at eren's expense.

"i didn't know she liked me!" eren blurted out, hands flying out from his sides.

"so your brother's a dumbass too?" porco snorted, eren glaring at him with a huff, crossing his arms back.

"pock—" pieck started, being cut off by eren's rising tone.

"i'm not kidding, i didn't know!"

"so you didn't know a girl who you fucked and kept texting you after had feelings for you?" your retort was quick, head inching forward as your eyes narrowed at eren as if he was dumb causing eren to glare at you too, his lips in a thin line at your statement before placing his hand out for zeke to place the keys in his hand.

"okay, whatever, let's go."

"someone's upset." pieck added before placing her hand on your shoulder. "bye, _____, see you at the club tonight?"

"club?" your ears perked. oh, the club. as well as vacation for spring break, majority of your first and second years decided to takeover a club not too far from campus before people left off for their families. you had already packed a dress for the event when you packed your bags last night alongside eren. the event had just slipped your mind. "oh, yeah, yeah. if eren still want's to go."

zeke slapped the keys in eren's hand, you getting up from the bench with a wave to the remaining three, going to stand beside eren. zeke stood up as well, bringing you into a suffocating hug, his beard grazing your forehead before pulling back with a pat to your shoulder. "well, see you. tell miss carla i said hello because eren won't."

you smiled at zeke before eren grabbed your hand with his free one, giving it a small tug. "don't worry, i will zeke."

with a small "c'mon," from eren, he began pulling you away, you trailing after the boy until the two of you reached zeke's parked car. "you really need to get your own car." you murmured to eren as he opened the back door for you to throw your bag in, alongside his, then the passengers side before walking around to the drivers.

"nah, zeke's is good for now." eren slid into the driver's seat, adjusting the chair before starting the car, giving you a one over to make sure you were comfortable, noticing the way your face shriveled up at the smell of the car. "smells like cigarretes?" he asked you, a small smile upturning on his face, his expression almost softening.

you turned your head towards him with a reciprocating smile at his observation. "yeah, but it's okay. your mom's house isn't too far anyways." eren pulled out of the parking lot, letting your last statement resonate in the air while he watched for cars behind him, hand on the back of the head of your seat, brows furrowed in concentration while you opened up your phone, scrolling through your socials. you noticed the party tonight was the talk of today, almost everyone of your mutuals on your feed talking about it. it didn't sound too bad, and you didn't mind going either, getting to see your friends was enjoyable. "so we're going to that party?"

eren's eyes shot to your face from the rear view mirror, lingering for a little before going back to the road ahead. "as long as you want too— i mean, i want to. why? you don't have something to wear? i thought we packed last night."

"dummy, i'm just confirming with you. i have something to wear, you literally watched me pick out my clothes."

eren stayed silent for a couple minutes while beginning to grin at you unconsciously. "yeah, i saw it, the dress. i was gonna say you could borrow one of my moms if you didn't have one." he joked, looking to you to watch you give him a raise of your brow and an upturn of your lip.

"you're such an idiot." you looked back down to your phone to switch apps. "who's gonna be there that i know? i know sasha will probably go, i haven't seen her lately."

"me." eren said matter of factly, not even looking your way for a reaction.

you rolled your eyes, hitting him on the shoulder lightly. "i'm serious."

"im serious too."

"eren!" you whined his name, his look fixing on you again at the sound of his name before shifting away just as quickly.

"you know, the usual... sasha will probably be there, armin probably wants to see annie or something... connie... maybe jean, or reiner or whatever."

"or whatever." you mocked eren, lowering your tone to try to get his voice spot on, causing him to slap your thigh hard, you yelping and dropping your phone to rub at the abused spot, your leer shooting daggers at eren. "i'm telling carla when we get there."

eren only laughed, bringing his hand back to your thigh and moving your hand to soothe the supple skin with a flitting rub while you pouted at him. "she'd hurt me if i hurt you."

"you did!" your voice raising slightly, hand moving his away but not before pinching the skin on top causing him to hiss.

"sorry." his hand returned to your hand sitting on your leg, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance while he studied your face just in case you had a negative reaction.

you let his palm linger, the feeling almost comforting, and... and what? you couldn't pinpoint it, but for the majority of the rest of the ride, his hand stayed until he had no choice but to remove it when steering. a sense of anxiousness was relieved when he did, but you couldn't figure out why.

                                 彡

"go inside, i'll get our bags, my mom will be happy to see you." eren said, signaling to his front door with your hand, and you nodded walking to the small house. a sense of nostalgia was washed over you. you vaguely remembered coming over to eren's house so often and spending so much time with him, mikasa and armin. of course, mikasa being so busy with her own studies could only visit so much, but there were many times she came back to visit alongside you and eren, armin occasionally visiting as well although he had family to go back to as well. you and eren constantly did almost everything together, from indulging in video games he used to side eye you for wanting to play with him, to helping his mom in the kitchen with a grumble from eren, to getting into heated arguments and having to sit on the couch with carla since eren would kick you out of his room, only to be scolded by carla only minutes later. it was all enjoyable memories, even the arguments, and thank goodness to the closeness of the college to eren's old house. you were able to visit and relive those memories so often, a sense of warmth washing over you each and every time.

not only were you thankful for the proximity of carla's house, but you were thankful for her constant efforts to keep you and eren close. she was the one who suggested requesting a shared dorm, the one who constantly asked eren to bring you over, the one that never failed to ask about you every time she called eren. if you and eren ever lost your bond she'd be the first to know.

you walked up the steps, the door already unlocked as carla anticipated your arrival. as soon as you opened the door the significant scent of linen and apple flooded your nose, along with whatever she was cooking up. the mass of carla's dark hair was in your line of sight once you turned your head to the side, her body stood in front of the stove, and she whipped her own head around hazel eyes almost bulging out there head when she spotted your figure at the front door. "_____!" she exclaimed, immediately dropping the pan she was holding back onto the stove and rushing to you, embracing you in a loving hug. "my baby, i missed you so much! eren brought you!"

and eren, always on time stepped in behind you, his tall figure towering over you and his mom with two bags in his hand.

"and my real baby, oh i missed you both so much." carla pulled away giving you chaste kisses on side of your face, her long eyelashes fluttering against your skin as she cradled your jaw with her nimble fingers. her apron decorated around her waist smelled of fresh cooking, but her perfume lingered as well giving off a haze of peppermint.

she moved towards eren, her hands cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek as well, moving her fingers to tug on his ear playfully before drifting down to his shoulder, patting his chest then pulling the bags out of his hand. "mom—" eren murmured, twisting his face at his mom's protectiveness as she dragged the bags out of his hand, going over to place them beside the staircase before coming back over, hands clasped in front of her guests.

"no, you just came, no need to try to put stuff away yet." carla said with a cheery smile, still elated at the arrival of the two of you. "i'm so glad you're here, i just finished cooking so let's all sit and eat before you try to do anything else." she began walking back towards the pan she left on the stove, head turned back with a knowing look at eren who would try to go put the bags upstairs. "come sit." and you and eren made your way to the round dining table, four seats present, yet only three would be filled.

"where's dad?" eren asked as he sat down, pulling the chair out for you first while you fiddled with your fingers, watching carla plate the lunch she prepared.

carla's movements slowed as she sat in thought for a couple seconds. "oh... he's at work, like always you know." eren looked down, nodding his head.

"so how's school going?" carla asked, heading over to place down a bowl. "chicken pasta salad, it's good, eat." she used her head to motion towards the food.

"it's going good, luckily i don't have that heavy of a workload like others, it's bearable, but of course still hard." you replied, as she brought over plates and cutlery, setting them down in front of eren and you, both of you immediately scooping some pasta onto your plates.

"and you, eren?"

"it's fine, mom."

"how about football? is that going good?"

"yeah, it's good too." you winced at eren's lack of effort in the conversation, hitting his elbow with your own, him giving you a confused expression before he placed his full fork in his mouth.

"zeke told me to tell you hi." you told carla as she came to sit in front of the two of you, plating her own food, eyes widening at the mention of zeke's name.

"really?"

"yeah."

"well then how's zeke doing too then?"

"i don't know, i don't see him much, eren could probably tell you." you gave eren the opportunity to talk, looking at him to cue him to say something while you took another forkful of the pasta.

"he's probably fine too, i don't see him much either." eren replied with a shrug of his shoulders, picking at his food, and you sighed.

"how's sharing a dorm going? i hope eren's not too much, i know he can be a ruckus."

"it's good too, he's a better roommate than i thought he'd be at first." you let out a small laugh, remembering eren's old antics, how messy his room used to be, the dark green of his walls and the miscellaneous decorations he used to have sprung around. you couldn't wait to go upstairs and check that out again. "he's still a little messy—"

"but she always nags me to clean up so that doesn't matter." eren cut you off before you could attempt to compliment him and you rolled your eyes.

"i wasn't gonna say anything bad. yeah he cleans up a little more now but i always have to pick up a sock or something. plus, i'm the one who has to clean up before someone comes to visit. like mikasa or armin or something." you chose not to mention the countless girls that'd come in and out too.

carla pursed her lips looking up at eren with a slightly disappointed look. "you always have to keep your workspace and your room clean, eren. especially in the presence of others, i didn't tell you that all the time for no reason."

"i know, i know, mom."

"no you don't because if you did you'd keep your area clean in respect for ______." carla placed more of her food in her mouth with a shake of her head before moving her failing ponytail to her back from her shoulder, then looking up at you. her doe eyes were just like eren's, he was the spitting image of her and it's one reason why you could never forget her face. "how's mikasa and armin?"

"they're good too, mikasa couldn't come this time, she has too much going on i guess— but she's fine!" a slight moment of worry crossed carla's face, eyebrows turning up and lips frowning as she twirled her fork in the food in front of her.

"hopefully she can come next time, tell her to relax. poor girl, always has so much on her plate. i remember when she used to be here she constantly had to do eren's chores for him, what a doll."

eren scratched his head, looking down at his almost empty plate. "i did work too, she didn't do everything for me."

carla ignored eren's add on."and armin?"

eren answered before you could. "he's good too."

"i hope so, he's such a sweet boy." carla hummed. "so how long are you guys staying? and how long's your break?"

"only a week, we'll be here for this weekend cause zeke is gonna need his car back." your plate was almost finished as well, fork scraping against the ceramic.

"yeah, but later today we're heading back up to go to a party." eren said nonchalantly, eyeing his fork as he spun it in his hand.

"i hope that's okay with you— if you don't want us to go we don't have to." you hastily added in consideration for carla, eren's green eyes narrowing at you with a small frown. he clearly wanted to have some fun tonight.

"no, no! that's perfectly fine, you'll be here for the whole weekend, i'll let you kids have your fun." carla smiled. "i'm just glad you came earlier than waiting until after the party cause i know you'll get back late and i'll probably be sleeping. who's birthday is it?"

"it's not a birthday." eren stuffed the last of his food in his mouth, chewing before continuing. "just a spring break party before everyone goes home."

"oh? so that's what you do in college nowadays?" carla laughed, peering at eren's plate, content that he finished his food. you joined her in laughing, ushering yourself to finish up as well, knowing eren might get impatient with your pace at eating.

"i guess. there are parties all the time. but how have you been?"

carla beamed at your asking. "i'm good! nothing much, i wait for grisha to come home, although i'm usually just here alone. i have my hobbies though, i'm fine. i've been trying to make friends with the neighbors too, they have some younger kids that are enjoyable." as you listened to carla you finished your food as well, her getting up to gather the empty plates and take them to the sink. "thank you for asking, _____. eren, honey can you put the top on the pasta and put it in the fridge? i'll make dinner later just in case you want something else when you get home tonight."

eren pushed his seat back, standing up to do as his mom said, wandering towards the fridge. "that's fine, we should just give you a break, we'll eat the pasta again when we get back, you can just relax, right eren?" you said, watching carla and eren maneuver around the kitchen while you got up to wash your hands at the sink beside carla.

"yeah that's cool too. you don't have to cook mom."

carla pouted endearingly at the two of you with an "awe," leaving her lips. "the two of you are so sweet. i'll clean up, you can go upstairs now." and with that you and eren left her to her own devices, eren grabbing the bags at the stairs and almost pushing you up the stairs.

"that was good, i'm full." you sighed, as you walked beside eren down the hall until he opened the door to his old room. the walls were still a muddy green, a decision you're sure he probably regret now. miscellaneous posters decorated his wall, an oak desk sat idle in the corner of his room beside a collection of simple books. his bed was made, navy comforter sprawled out on the bed and plump pillows sitting pretty. his bed was big enough for the two of you to share, but carla always asked if you wanted to sleep in mikasa's room when you came. you always declined. "look at your certificates." you pointed to the certificates framed on the wall as eren set the bags down on the floor beside his desk.

"shut up." eren grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards his bed until you collapsed onto it beside him. “'m tired." he groaned, his face down into the cover below him, arm slumped over your waist where you laid. you were going to pester eren about his situation with historia, but you decided to leave him alone for the time being.

"you can take a nap before we leave."

eren turned his head to the side so his cheek was smushed against the bed instead, looking at your form, your head pointed towards the ceiling. "you wanna take one with me?"

you faced eren, giving him a stank face before poking his cheek. "just cause you're tired doesn't mean i am. i'll lay here though, i'll wake you up when we should start getting ready." you slipped your phone out of your pocket to check the time. "you have until like five thirty-ish. it's four."

eren squeezed your side, that same anxious feeling rising as he did so, pulling you a little closer, eyes shutting. "take a nap with me."

"no."

"c'mon."

"eren, i'm not tired." he opened his eyes again, piercing green blue hues staring at you head on. he removed his arm from around you, picking his head up and scooting up to his pillow, now facing away from you with a huff. "whatever, i'll wake you up later." he didn't respond, and around fifteen minutes after, once he was asleep you got up from the bed.

shuffling downstairs, you turned the corner to the living room, seeing carla seated on the couch watching tv. "hi, mrs. carla." you said lowly, her head turning back fast as usual, and simpering when she saw your face.

"you're okay?" her hand moved to find the remote, turning down the volume on the tv as you came to sit beside her. her soft hand found yours, grasping it. "enjoying the stay so far, right?"

"of course. eren's sleeping so i wanted to keep you some company."

"that's too sweet of you. he's doing fine too, right?"

"yeah, probably just tired from staying up all night. he was up pretty late yesterday." you reminisced on the small argument you had with eren just the previous night before, you pestering him about his reluctance to sleep, him making you irritable being on the phone with who knows in the dead of the night.

carla nods her head in understanding. "so tell me more about the party."

you look up to the ceiling in thought as she rubbed your knuckles. "well, eren wants to go more than me. i wouldn't have minded staying here if he wanted too, but i guess he wants to see some people."

'hm, are you going to see some people?" she wiggled her shoulders in a taunting manner, and you chuckled in response.

"nope, just gonna chill."

"well... don't get too drunk or anything. i want my babies safe...” she looked at you with large eyes, curiousity present on her face. “are you seeing someone?" she asked abruptly.

you were slightly caught off-guard by the question, but were a little glad carla felt so comfortable basking in your private life. "we won't, don't worry. but um, no i'm not."

"i see... is eren? anything he's not telling me?" you pondered, not wanting to tell too much about eren's own personal relationships despite it being his mom. i mean— would you want someone telling your mom about you breaking girls hearts? you decided to enlighten her a little bit, make her feel like she was somewhat apart of eren's romantic life.

"he doesn't tell me much either, to be honest. i guess he's just trying his luck with girls. he has no problem catching their attention anyways, so i don't think you have to worry much about that."

carla looked at you, an unreadable expression visible on her face through the small moment of silence. she let go of your hand, putting hers back in her lap. "i'm glad you know it too." she half joked, looking to her lap. "... trying his luck?"

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, letting your hand come up to scratch at your jaw. "something like that... i don't know, he's just doing his own thing."

carla's eyes darted back and forth between you and her legs, trying to find something to say, mouth opening and closing every time she thought she had came up with the right words. "_____, i really like you, and enjoy your presence you know. you're really great to eren, i appreciate that. i want you to keep looking out for him, i want the best for him. whatever he has going on, help him figure it out, be the best version of himself as possible."

your words were so vague but you felt like she saw right through them. her words were so vague and you had trouble deciphering them.

"... of course, yeah, i'm looking out for him, he's my bestfriend."

"yeah... that's also true." carla sighed, and you hope she didn't notice the confusion that crossed your face for a brief moment.

saving you from the slightly awkward silence, carla turned the volume up on the television, the two of you sitting and watching whatever was present on screen.

soon enough, eren's foot steps were heard, both you and carla turning your head to see eren standing at the bottom of the steps, and irritated tired look on his face. he rubbed at his eyes, moving away some of the stray hairs in his face before slapping his palm back down to his thigh.

"what are you doing?" his voice was rumbly and deep from sleep, tone impatient.

"talking to your mom?" your response was more of a question, carla patting your thigh for you to get up.

"its six thirteen."

"i left my phone upstairs with you, grumpy." you glanced to carla. "he's always like this when he wakes up."

"i can recall." a chuckle left her lips as she shooed you away. "the two of you can get ready."

so you followed eren back upstairs, toeing behind him until you got to his room. you scurried to get your attire and products from your bag, and with your belongings in hand, you went off to the bathroom to get ready and give eren his own privacy.

soon enough you were dressed and freshened up. your strapped blush silk dress adorned with ruches up the side hugged every curve of yours, while your hair sat pretty. you sighed in content, grabbing your perfume bottle and spritzing yourself, the smell of vanilla engulfing your senses. you looked at yourself in the mirror appreciating the way you looked, your lips glossed, and your earrings dangled just above your shoulders.

from the mirror view you could see eren come in behind you, his eyes trailing down your body from your reflection in the mirror. you didn't bother facing him, only stepping slightly to the side to take a look at him as well, a plain black shirt on his upper half, accompanied by black jeans as well, and some sneakers. his pendant hung in his hand, gold watch to match on his left wrist. of course, he never did much to his hair, as it was still pulled back in the same ponytail from before his nap.

"sit down on the toilet." eren side eyed you before sitting on the lid of the toilet, you coming up in front of him to pull the hair tie out of his hair. "your hair's a mess, and i'll put the necklace on."

surprisingly, no complaints from eren arose, he sat quiet as you carded your fingers through his brown locks, pulling his hair back into a neater bun, flyaways still decorating his face in a more purposeful manner. hair tickled the back of his hair as well, but you liked the messy look. you grabbed the pendant from his rough hands, unclasping the back before putting it around his neck, him leaning forward to give you a better angle while he stared down at your feet. "better."

eren looked over you from where he sat on the toilet seat, a calm face present. "aren't you gonna get cold? or your feet might hurt." he pointed to your white heels detailed with clear.

"i'll be fine," you dusted his shoulder before he stood up, once again towering over you, seemingly more intimidating now that he stood straight up. "i have a jacket that i'll put in the car."

you and eren made your way back downstairs, your jacket and phone now in hand, eren likewise. carla practically gasped at the sight of you two, her eyes growing like saucers at your attire. "you guys look so cute!" she came over, taking your hands into hers. "all grownup."

"mom..." eren exasperated, grabbing your wrist to pull you more towards the front door, away from carla.

"eren, it's okay," you pulled out of his grip, turning back towards her. "thank you so much."

carla smiled, heading towards eren. "and my handsome boy," she swiped at his shirt, making sure there were no dust particles on it much like you had did earlier, then tugging at the key pendant on his neck, straightening the necklace. "you guys be safe, i love you."

eren placed his hand over his mom's, moving it down from the chain and back into her own vicinity. "yeah, love you too." his hand made a 'come on' gesture, and with a tilt of his head, you were following him again. "let's go."

                                       彡

"eren, wait." he didn't hear you, still making his way around the crowd of bodies, annoyance creeping up in your veins as you tried to keep up with him. "eren!" still, no response, only him still moving forward making you groan in annoyance. you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, and let them land on the bar next to you. "hitch!" you called out, her and the blonde next to her turning towards the sound of her name being called, who you soon recognized as annie.

hitch waved you over excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat at the sight of you. you made your way over, sitting beside her as she pulled you into a tight hug. "____, hey! didn't really think you'd be here."

"why not?" you hummed, bartender looking your way to see if you would hint that you wanted a drink.

"not sure, i just thought you'd be chilling in your room right about now. i was just telling annie about some boys, there's a lot of cute ones here if you want to get some."

"i'm good." you peered down at her drink, clear liquid detailed with greenery, a lime sitting on the side of the glass. "what are you drinking?"

"a mojito," hitch wiggled her eyebrows as she recalled the drink in a sing song voice. "wanna try it?" she pushed it towards your lips. you shrugged your shoulders sipping at her straw without a care. the drink stung a bit, your face twisting as you shook your head.

"i'll just get a martini. what's annie drinking?"

"dunno, probably water." hitch moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, glancing at the clear liquid in front of annie. "oh, yeah. like i was saying..." her voice trailed off to you as you began to talk to the bartender, ordering yourself a martini.

you sipped on your drink, only half listening to hitch. every time she tried to confirm that you were listening by going "right, _____?" you would nod your head even if you couldn't remember the last thing she said.

"_____, _____!" a familiar raspy voice was calling your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. you, hitch and annie once again looked towards the source of the sound, sasha's hand outstretched in your direction as she came forward, dragging along connie. "hey, you're here!"

you shot sasha a smile, putting down your drink and embracing her into a side hug, waving at connie as well. "hey, sash! yeah, how'd you know?"

"i went to go find connie so he could buy me a drink, and i saw eren and asked if you were here too. he said you didn't know where you were though, but what a coincidence." sasha made herself comfortable in the seat beside you, connie staying standing as there were no more seats to the left of sasha. "what's that?" she pulled your martini forward, putting it to her lips with no hesitance, beaming at the taste. "this, what's this?"

you laughed at sasha's antics, her presence making the event at hand all the more better, you missed hanging out with her, only having night classes with her the semester before. "it's a martini."

"yeah, connie, get me this!" connie let out a sigh and went to the other side of the bar where there was seating to comfortably order and wait for sasha’s drink. "he's so nice, i literally forgot my wallet, and that would've been so tragic if they had some good food here." sasha hummed, reluctantly pushing your drink back over in front of you. "how long have you been here?"

"not for long," you responded, taking another sip of your drink. "maybe like thirty minutes or so, eren left me like as soon as we got here so i've just been sitting with hitch and annie." you gestured to the girls beside you, hitch engaging annie in more conversation who almost forcibly listened, seeming to care less, although hitch told her anyways, getting the occasional nod from the blonde.

"oh, i've been here for like an hour now, i met this really cute boy. i don't know his name but he's blonde, and cute, like really cute." she clasped her hands together at the thought of the boy. "i danced with him, he was so nice, i need to find him again tonight." when connie returned with her drink she thanked him profusely, hugging his arm dramatically before letting him go so he could return to his other friends, waving off to you once more.

"well, find out his name maybe."

"i had it, i just forgot!" she pondered. "i think it started with an m, or an n or something, i don't know." you laughed again, taking another drink of the beverage in front of you ice basically being left in the glass, sasha beginning to drink hers as well. "you should come out to the floor and dance, it's literally so fun. plus, everyone else would probably wanna see you. historia is here! jean is too, and like— some other people."

"are you gonna finish your drink first?" you had no problem going out to dance, although you rather just watch from the outside.

"i'll take it with me. is that a yes? c'mon!" sasha exclaimed, picking her drink off the table and pulling you from your seat. you and sasha made your way through the surplus of bodies until you felt the surface under your heels change. you didn't see anyone you knew but you were sure sasha did as she perked up then looking back at you. "there's the boy, look!" you followed her direction of sight a boy with a middle part, blonde strands flopping at the sides of his forehead. he was cute for sasha, and the joy that glowed on her face made you smile.

you truly did miss her, and the excitement she brought into your own life, coercing you to go out to eat with her, begging to come over after classes despite it being night, and pushing you to attend parties and events.

"can i go over to him?" sasha begged, tightening her hold on your arm before making puppy dog eyes. "look," and with her finger she pointed towards a connie, him speaking while moving back and forth to the song playing loudly, music filling your ears. "connie is over there, i'll take you over." you sighed but couldn't help but cast a smile at her, her hickory ponytail bouncing as she took you over to connie.

connie was in the midst of talking to jean, who you recognized right off the bat, his ash brown hair scaping his neck, eyebrows lifting when he saw you approach with your friend. "connie— and jean, hey, jean. look who's here." connie glanced at you, then to sasha.

"i saw her earlier." he said, pausing from talking, his movements slowing. "but, hey again, _____." connie punched your shoulder lightly in a joking manner.

"well, i didn't," jean's hand rested on his chest as he spoke before pulling you into a hug moving the drink in his hand to the side as he did so, cheesing at you. "hey, _____. when did you get here?"

"when eren got here, if you've seen him."

jean's smile disappeared, an "oh," leaving his mouth blankly. "you look nice. how's everything?"

you stepped forward, closer to jean and connie as sasha left your side to go talk to the mystery boy. you grinned at the compliment, showing your appreciation. "thanks... i'm good, how about you?" you only really heard about jean through eren and sasha, also seeing him around campus more often than not. he was good company for the times you've been around him, but you and mikasa had to constantly get him out of scuffles with eren although they were pretty good friends.

"good, that's good. i'm good too. you're just now getting on the floor?"

"yeah, thanks to sasha. why? you wanna dance with me or something?" you joked, nudging jean's shoulder, earning a small laugh from connie as well that you could barely hear.

"jean you better watch it, this my girl." connie interrupted playfully, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you closer in spite of jean. jean glared at connie before letting his drink run down his throat again, adam's apple bobbing.

"yeah, yeah, _____, wanna dance?" you complied, connie letting go of you and off to do his own thing as you came more up to jean, moving side to side with him as you mouthed the lyrics to the song. you relished in your movements, being able to loosen up and just dance, jean fluently following your movements as well, frequently mumbling the lyrics he knew. when granted you turned around letting your back hit jean's chest, his lip upturning as he looked down at you, watching you do your own thing. his free hand came down to your side to hold you in place as you danced, feeling the song playing. he studied your face from what he could see, noticing how carefree and relaxed you look. "looks like you needed a night out." he said loudly so you could hear.

"i guess. it's just nice to be able to see all of you at once, just letting myself live a little, especially since i don't get out a lot."

"you really don't. you should talk to sash more, have her bring you to some more parties or something like you used to always come to."

you bent over slightly, only so that you were no longer pressed flush against jean, letting your rear grind against him a bit. "you miss me? you can invite me out too you know, just depends if i'm feeling it that day or not."

"so you're asking me to text you more?" jean took your movements lightly, hand still resting at your side, his own body surprisingly cool albeit your actions, continuing to drink the beverage at hand.

you snorted picking yourself back up and adjusting your dress, swaying your hips once more. "jean kirschstein; always a flirt." jean and you both laughed, and he tapped your hip before gesturing towards the bar.

"you know it— but, i'm gonna get a refill, you enjoy yourself." jean began walking away, pep in his step and you chuckled to yourself, standing around until you took it upon yourself to find someone else you knew.

you walked slowly, looking for a familiar face, sasha almost nowhere to be found. you contemplated going back to the bar to sit down with hitch and annie again, or go converse with jean again, but you spotted armin wandering around almost aimlessly in the crowd as well, your face lighting up at the sight. "armin!" you called out, and thank goodness for his sharp ears, the blonde turning around almost immediately at the sound of his name. his smile was large and he came over,

"______!"

you brought armin into a side hug, a funny look on your face. "armin, hey. you looking for someone?" you asked, referring to his walking around just seconds before you called for him. the blonde scratched the back of his neck, nodding his head with a nervous laugh. "yeah, um... annie, i was looking for annie." your mouth dropped into an 'o', eyebrows lifting up in surprise. you remember eren foreshadowing that armin would be there for annie, and it made you giggle.

"annie?" you smirked, watching his eyes dart around the club, avoiding your eyes. "well, i think she's at the bar talking to hitch. want me to come with?" you weren't planning on grabbing another drink, as you could already feel some of the alcohol buzzing through, but you of course weren't drunk, and you needed it to stay that way.

you felt a hard slap of a hand on your shoulder, whipping your head back to see sasha all bugged eye standing behind you, a concerned expression crossing your face. armin, noticing the drift of your attention gave a curt nod. "no, it's fine, i'll find her." then walking off in the direction of the small bar.

"_____, guess what, guess what!" sasha exclaimed, turning you around by your shoulder, her cheeks high from smiling hard, face flushed from the countless drinks you assumed she must've had since you saw her, another one present in her hand as you spoke. you could only wonder who bought her it.

"hi, yes sash, what's up?"

"the guy— he's literally so cute, and guess what!" she repeated, eager to have you try to guess her next statement.

"um what? you got his number?"

she profusely shook her head, bangs whipping back and forth as she stabled herself on your shoulder, pulling down the dress she was wearing before leaning into your ear. "he can cook too, he told me he's a chef, i mean can you believe that? i don't even know if i want to take him home." she giggled before pulling away, eyes going up to the ceiling in thought. "i should probably get his number too, shouldn't i?"

"well if you're not gonna take him home then you should probably get that now."

"oh, no," her hand paused on your chest while she took a swig of the alcohol in hand. "i'm taking him home for sure, i just got to get the number too, he's so sweet!"

sasha's energy was a lot, her eyes darting around once more. "look, eren's coming over," she pointed with her drink behind you and you turned back to indeed see eren heading over to the two of you, his eyes pointed down at his feet as he watched his step around the excess bodies of sweaty people clashing around him, careful not to step on any feet. "i'm gonna go use the bathroom because i really have to pee, then i'm gonna get his number, ok?" sasha said, you saying an "okay," as she stumbled away to find the bathrooms.

just as she stepped away, eren stepped forward, him placing his hand on your lower back to push you more towards him and get you away from other people. "hey," he said in a louder tone for you to hear.

"hey." your feet moved with eren's as you noticed he was side stepping in an effort to dance less awkwardly, making you hold back a laugh.

"are you enjoying the party?"

"yeah, its nice. i've seen a lot of people so far."

eren peered down at you, eyeing you with another indecipherable look, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip and his eyes squinting slightly. he moved his hand to your side in effort to turn you around, leaning down to your ear. "enjoy yourself a little more, dance with me, i haven't seen you all night."

you looked at eren, his head near your ear causing the deviate hairs on the side of his head to tickle you. "i am... and that's your fault, you left me almost as soon as we got here."

eren ignored your last statement, pressing his palm to the dimples of your back. "lower." he droned, curiosity crossing his face as he wondered if you would comply or not, although he was just messing around.

"eren!" you slapped his arm, another foreign feeling coursing your skin as he tittered in your ear before pulling back.

"what? you're my bestfriend, i'm just messing, plus you'd be at like— my legs anyways." eren gave you a testing gaze, watching you lift a brow up at his slick words. with courage, you challenged eren, pushing back on him a little more, letting your backside brush against him in the slightest playfully. eren's hand stiffened on your side before he turned you back around.

"did you feel that in your legs?" you didn't think eren would take you seriously. you could play around with each other like that, and sometimes you did.

"woah, stop..." he let out a shaky laugh, it sounding more like a huff of breath. "uh, i'm gonna go head over for another drink... do you want one too? i'll pay." his voice came out almost in a pleading manner, but you shook your head brushing him off.

"it's cool, one of us has to stay sober— i wouldn't want you crashing zeke's car either, he'd kill you."

"whatever... but, you sure?"

"yes, i'm sure... i'm gonna go find somewhere to sit anyways, i'm kind of sick of standing."

"i told you your feet were gonna hurt."

"i didn't say they hurt, i said i was sick of standing, stupid. go get your drink." you pushed eren forward a little bit, him looking over you one more time before letting you go, heading in the direction of the same bar almost everyone you had encountered had sat at at least once today.

you wanted to find somewhere to sit, and it wasn't too hard, a broad seating area with small lounge couches and seating in the corner of the club, and sitting one of the couches was pieck, surveying the area, a peaceful expression on her face as she sat with porco. you mentally high fived yourself for spotting another one of your acquaintances, striding over, watching pieck's face practically glow at your arrival, porco not caring much. "pieck," you held your hands out, gesturing to the dark haired girl. "comes to a party, and lays down with porco for half of it."

"so you finally found me." was the first thing she said, intertwining one of her hands with yours and pulling you down to sit with her, laughing at you. "i was out there earlier, and now i'm drinking. pock here wouldn't even let me be out there for too long if i wanted too."

"and let those filthy hands touch you? damn right." he grumbled, arm swung around the back of the seat the three of you were seated on.

"see? pock; forever the life of the party." pieck mimics your earlier tone, using her hands to gesture out like you before the two of you burst into fits of laughter. "but, i saw you being the life of the party and dancing out there."

you scoffed. "barely, i danced with only a couple people, that's all."

"sasha, jean, eren." she leaned forward, bumping you with her hand that held her drink.

"why'd you say eren like that?"

pieck looked to porco, almost snorting at your obliviousness before looking back at you. "he was watching you when you were getting down with jean, then you kind of... got down with him too." her eyes got wide mockingly, before she giggled at her own words, downing some of her alcohol.

"barely," you said again. "i'm just friend's with both of them— and jean is just naturally flirty i guess. i'm just chilling, like you."

porco looked over at your last sentence, eyeing pieck with a muddled guise, her catching on before lightly rubbing his hand that sat on his thigh in security. "not chilling like that, pock, she means i'm just sitting around."

"i'm not stupid, i knew that."

another burst of short lived laughter from you and pieck, porco rolling his eyes at the two of your antics. "well eren and jean are over there now."

you glanced over at the direction of pieck's gaze, spotting eren seated beside armin and annie, and a new face you didn't even see all night, historia talking to eren with a black haired girl next to her, arms crossed. jean stood on the other side of them, leaning on the counter seeming to be listening intently. something seemed off about the conversation but eren seemed to be nonchalant about it so you didn't think twice. "so annie was still at the bar? i guess hitch left her." you said mostly to yourself, recalling when you told armin where the stoic girl was earlier that evening.

"yeah," pieck still heard you. "look at annie and armin," she used her drink to gesture towards the two.

"cute, almost makes me want to get in a relationship, surrounded by all these lovebirds." you said jokingly, specifically aiming your sentence to pieck and porco next to you, and not so much annie and armin as you weren't even sure if they dated.

"i could pluck a couple candidates for you."

"who?"

"i don't think you'd like my answer."

you shook your head at pieck, only letting the comment linger on your mind for a bit before letting your eyes wander back to historia and eren. they seemed to be having a heated conversation from the distance you were at, historia's drink in hand as she spoke to eren, her hands flailing at the same time while eren drank his own, seemingly half-listening. "was historia always here?"

pieck looked ahead to the bar as well. "i'm assuming you mean the blondie from this afternoon? i remember her, but i don't recall seeing her until probably just a couple minutes ago, why? you're gonna go over and say hi?"

"nah, she's a sweetheart though; she'd be happy to see me regardless, but, i think she might be a little annoyed with me because of what happened between her and eren. if i pass her later then yeah."

historia frowned as both her and you, despite your distance watched eren turn around to armin and jean, saying something that made jean burst out laughing and armin and the raven haired girl next to historia's jaw drop. what jean said after was inaudible from where you sat, but you could just see the words "eren," formed on armin's lip. your eyes widened as when eren turned back around historia's hand flew forward, drink wrapped around her fingers letting the contents inside of the cup spill forward onto eren's shirt, the red shade of the liquid seeping into it.

you gasped and pieck did too, her moving her hair out of her face to make sure the events that were splayed out were really happening. "oh my gosh," you muttered, standing up and taking long strides over to the bar.

armin's hand wrapped around eren's wrist, tugging him back before he could lose his temper on the small girl in front of him. "eren, leave it!" you could hear armin say, worry in his tone as eren shook out of his grip. but before he could do anything else in response you were in front of him, your eyebrows furrowed and your hands placed on the front of eren's shirt, avoiding the wet spots as you pushed him backwards a little.

"eren, hey, eren, stop!" you raised your voice slightly, his eyes still trained on historia who you stepped in front of, her stepping back, with the other girl, who you could now tell was mina, but you could only remember her so vaguely, hearing about her from eren more than seeing her more often than not.

eren looked down at you, his expression softening only a tad bit when he saw your own angered one as you tried to calm him down. you twisted your neck back to look at historia with a disappointed look, her looking almost surprised to see you here as well, as if she genuinely didn't know you'd be here. "historia..." you sighed more so to yourself before looking at eren's shirt again.

"_____, i can take him to the bathroom to help him." armin proposed, coming up beside you and examining eren's shirt as well. luckily because of the dark color it only looked like a water stain, but you knew it was irritating eren nonetheless.

"it's fine, i'll take him, thank you arm—"

"no, let's go, get your stuff." eren interrupted you, turning towards the barstool he was sitting on previously to grab his phone. his tone was low and domineering, almost telling you that yes, you were leaving right now, not that you had any complaints; you were already getting tired, hence why you took a seat with pieck.

"um, i left my stuff in the car, and i have my phone." you felt your chest to make sure your device was still tucked away, and it was, eren grabbing your upper arm and for the thousandth time that day, tugging you away. you could only look back with a sorry gaze at armin, noticing jean's still shocked expression, and realization dawning on historia's own face. you would have to shoot pieck a text later that night as well, as you could no longer see her as eren dragged you out the club.

once you took step outside the cold breeze hit your arm, but one of your arm's were still held captive so you couldn't rub your limbs to try and soothe the aching cold, getting annoyed by the way eren was pulling you along with him. "eren, let go." you pulled your arm back, and easier than you thought, your arm slipped out of his grip as the two of you reached the car. this time he didn't open the car door for you, both of you getting into your designated sides simultaneously, eren starting his brother's car again.

"what happened?" you asked almost immediately, eyes still looking down to the splotch of alcohol on his black top. you knew it would turn into a stain without the proper care of the material.

eren basically ignored you, looking over to your side once before beginning to drive off letting silence fall over the two of you. you huffed and looked out the window, resting your head on your palm and just letting eren's temper wash away with the car ride. you'd coerce him to tell you when the two of you got back to carla's house.

                                            彡

eren unlocked the front door, letting you get inside first. all the lights were shut, his mom most likely sleeping, yet the two of you were still quiet.

eren almost immediately began stripping off his shirt, first starting by placing both of his keys on the counter, alongside his phone, while you placed your own belongings beside his. he took off his tee, pendant slapping against his chest once the shirt was off. you used your right foot to kick off your left heel and did the same with the reciprocating leg.

before he could toss his shirt onto the table chair you reached out, grabbing it and going to flip on the kitchen light, heading over to the sink. eren studied your movements slightly surprised by your immediate efforts to help him, which to him should be no shock; you were always willing to help eren, always one step ahead of him before he could make mistakes, always rushing after him before his mistakes as well.

he came over beside you as you studied the stain, your delicate hands stretching out the fabric to examine it further. "what was she drinking?"

eren looked up from his shirt to your face, you too concentrated on the shirt to notice. "how am i supposed to know?" you gave him a browbeaten stare, him shifting uncomfortably before speaking again. "i don't know... it was something red i think."

"i'm gonna hand wash it and put it in the dryer. next time you wash clothes you can wash it too." you murmured, turning on the sink water before drizzling dish soap onto the black material. eren watched you silently, almost in awe at your domestic movements, your hands moving faintly yet firmly when you scrubbed at his shirt. he decided to break the silence instead of continuing to watch you.

"... i was just talking to armin and jean, and then she came over with her friend."

you immediately scoffed, breathing air through your nose at his last words, not even looking back at eren. "her friend? you know her name eren, i know you do."

eren stared at his shoes, tapping his fingers against the counter he leaned against. "yeah, mina. well they came over, and she was just talking to me like normal—"

"eren." your tone was almost threatening— like a mothers warning. you were glad he finally felt the need to tell you about the events that your mind was pondering on, but the way he sounded like he was attempting to dumb down the story itched you wrong. eren could tell by the tone of your voice that you were slightly upset, and he decided not to push any further.

"well she started talking to me about everything, her and mina were like... interrogating me about the situation, how i... played them," the words felt almost foreign coming from eren's mouth. you could almost see him visibly cringing from the angle he was at beside you. "and then i said something that she took the wrong way, i said it to jean and armin, then she threw her drink at me." the more he talked the lower his voice got until it was merely above a whisper, almost as if the embarrassment was only just dawning on him.

you let the quiet simmer for a little longer, ringing out the fabric in your hand before rolling up the material and making your way to the laundry room, eren following behind like a lost puppy. you brushed your hand against the laundry room door, turning to eren for confirmation that it was the right room if you could remember, and he nodded his head. with a sigh you threw the garment into the dryer, setting it to dry for only twenty minutes then letting the dryer run.

eren once again let his eyes follow you as you stepped in front of him crossing your arms, your brows coming together creating a crease between them, and your eyes squinted at him. "so why'd you do it?"

no response, only emeralds darting around the room to avoid your own strong gaze. you weren't angry, no, as cliché as it is you were merely disappointed— maybe even irritated, and of course confused.

"hm? what'd you get out of hurting them?" you stepped closer, eren making no attempt to step back.

"... i dont know, i—"

"you don't know? you just doing this for fun? cause it's not fun for them, and it's not fun for me when random girls always come up to me, like historia; telling me about what you did." you pointed an accusing finger at his chest. "like, i just don't get it eren." your hand came up to your face as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

eren was almost at loss for words, only being able to listen to you speak, and only able to observe the array of motions that came and went on your face in a single minute, observe how you tapped your foot against the hardwood floor, or the way you tucked your lip between your teeth in frustration every time you took a pause in telling him off.

"eren... i'm not saying she was right for throwing that drink on you, because she's not, but you," another brief pause, and your eyes meeting eren’s, a sympathetic look on them. okay, yeah you weren't mad, you just wanted to know what was going on through eren's head. "you can't keep just doing them girls like that, thinking that nobody's gonna bite back."

"______, i'm sorry..." he didn't want you to be disappointed, he didn't want you to be upset with him. it was some kind of heavy guilt that turned his stomach. he took it upon himself to grab one of your hands, and surprisingly you didn't pull away, his fingers rubbing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe your nerves. "'m sorry,"

"eren, you're apologizing to the wrong person." eren genuinely didn't know what to say, he knew you weren't the person to apologize to but he wanted your forgiveness as well. you let go of his hand moving it to the key around his neck, fiddling with it between your fingers as a mere distraction. he watched your soft fingers move, and it gave him a sense of comfort and fidelity, a warmness in his chest.

"i know..." his tone was filled with culpability, and it made you feel bad despite the position he put your friend in.

"you know, your mom talked to me earlier." you unconsciously slid your hand up his chest to his shoulder. your touch, your touch was enticing to him whether you knew it or not. "she said she wanted me to help you out and help you be the best version of yourself as possible." your other hand went on your hip to steady yourself further, but eren pulled it away and brought it to his other shoulder, you giving them a squeeze that made his stomach flip. "so that's what i'm trying to do, because that's what she wants, and because i love you."

eren practically choked when the words left your lips. not that he's never heard it from you before, no, being his best friend for so long it was such a casual thing to say 'i love you', and it was actually repeated more often than not. but now, why did it feel any different now? "i love you too..." he said hesitantly, bringing his own hands to your forearms, massaging the skin much like he did your thigh the previous morning. "you're not mad right?"

"no, if you can do better for me i won't be." truth being, he'd do anything for you. you let your hands glide up until you were cupping his face, giving his cheek a playful pat to show you weren't mad at him, then coming back down to tug at his chain, like his mom did earlier. "c'mon, let's go get changed."

and it hit him— he was awestruck.

it all made sense, fleeting touches he would give you, the way he relished in your skin on his, wanting you to be in his presence— better yet in his arms. the way your own touch on his; like you putting his necklace on for him, or you fixing his hair, how he would look at you in awe as you did so, how it gave him a sense of calmness. you were always looking out for him, and he didn't realize he was looking out for you too, always a protective grip on you, pulling him along with you, watching you from afar when he had the chance, searching for you when you've been away for too long. and you, when you would check on him, fix his attire, fix his necklace, taking after what you've learned from his mom just showed the mutual bond the two of you had, but the longer the bond stayed cordial, the longer he longed for you more. so when your hand slipped from his necklace and you began to walk around him he couldn't help but whine your name lowly and tug you back towards him, abruptly spinning you back around and letting his hands hold your jaw as he pressed his lips against yours, not considering the impact of the action in that brief moment.

you were caught off guard, the feeling of his full lips on yours felt oddly good, but it wasn't right— no it wasn't right at all to you, but to eren it felt completely right, like you were made for him, his other hand pulling you closer by your waist, the silk material of your dress underneath his hand making him squeeze tighter as if his hand would slip away.

you tried pulling away, and eren could feel it, your reluctance and your hands trying to push him away, but just a little longer, a little more, a little bit more time for his lips to engulf yours, until you both had to pull back for air, your nails leaving crescent moons on his chest from your efforts to push him away from you. he heaved, a croak of your name coming out as you shook your head despite the feeling of the kiss you shared sending the butterflies in your stomach abroad. "eren, no... i can't, you‚"

"no," he was desperate, his voice having that same pleading tone from when he asked you to get a drink with him at the bar. "it's not like that, this is different!"

your eyebrows pointed upwards, something in you did want to believe him but you couldn't. but then again, what would make him want to do that? when did he ever start finding you appealing? was it the kiss just now that made you realize that this wasn't the eren you always tried to take care of? that this wasn't eren jaeger whos ears would get red when his mom would tug on them, or who convinced her to paint his walls an ugly green, or the eren that'd kick you out of his room? this was eren, who grew his hair out to his shoulders, who joined a sports team and gained abs that rippled under his shirt which you finally noticed, eren who would make small sexual innuendos that probably had more lying underneath it than you thought.

this was eren that kissed you, and you kind of wanted to kiss him back.

"i promise." his lips were flushed, much like his face, small wispy hairs from the bun that would never stay put for too long swimming around his face. his palm still lingered on your waist but his other hand was now gripping one of your wrists on his chest. he never knew how to keep his hands to his self, and that only increased now. you didn't even realize he was inching closer, practically begging for more contact. "my mom would kill me if i played you anyways."

and so you let his lips collide with yours again, your mouths moving in synchronization this time around. eren's hands fumbled for the laundry room light before he tapped your thigh signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. you knew his intentions but you still obliged. he shut the door and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the kitchen light, doing the same as the previous room, him carrying you carefully in the dark, taking his time to get upstairs quietly with you in his arms until you both were in his room, him finally settling you down on the bed and turning on a dim lamp on his desk.

"shit," he mumbled watching you splay out in front of him, although your knees were touching as you laid back to hide yourself slightly while eren fumbled taking his shoes off. your dress was sliding up your thighs, and if you opened your legs you were sure eren would get a clear view of the cotton underwear you changed into that morning.

eren didn't want to be too hasty, he wanted to show you that this was gonna be about you and your pleasure, to show you that this wasn't another one of his flings and that you were important, you meant something to him but he just couldn't see it until now. so he towered over you, watching the way you bit your lip anxiously and it made his heart skip a beat, you were so cute, and he always knew so but the thought only audibly hit him now. he massaged your knees, one of his favorite soothing actions to do to you, until he slowly pulled them apart, feeling you tense up. "it's okay..."

so you moved along with him, and likewise, your dress slid up some more, eren pushing it up to your stomach, you lifting your hips to help him do so. he eyed you, making sure you were comfortable, and he couldn't help but lean down to kiss your lips once more, before pushing you further up the bed so he could lean over you. "you want this too, right?"

you nodded your head, letting out a shaky breath as his kisses trailed down your neck, eren using his arms to support himself as he leaned between your legs. you could feel the denim of his black jeans pressing up against you slightly and you clenched, your knees hitting eren's sides. "you gonna let me treat you right, make you feel good?" more kisses down your sternum, until they reached the cleavage of your breasts, eren looking up at you with those recognizable doe eyes, and you pulled his head back up, fingers brushing against his ears.

"yes, eren." his name, his name on your lips never sounded so nice.

eren turned his head sideways to kiss your palm before giving you a boyish smile then tugging at the straps of your dress. "want me to take this off?" he was so verbal, it made you feel so safe and secure. when you nodded your head he began to slowly pull the fabric off of you. he took his time, feeling every inch of your body, every curve beneath his hands, the softness of your flesh against his knuckles. he almost groaned out seeing your body almost bare in front of him. you were so pretty, it almost wasn't fair that it took him this much time to take action. "pretty." he spoke under his breath, but you heard it, and your hand slowly went to your mouth to hide your smile, your other one wrapping around your own waist to hide yourself, and eren caught on, moving your hands. "stop hiding, beautiful."

the compliments went right up your spine, your eyes fluttering as he skipped over your bra and let his kisses head down south, peppering your stomach in them. he let his fingers run up against your sides, eyes looking up to you for a second to make sure you were comfortable to where his hands and mouth were headed. eren's fingers dusted the waistband of your underwear, his teeth grazing the material as well before he pulled back, letting them snap against your skin, you hissing in response. "eren," you whined, feeling yourself grow even slicker from his onslaught.

"yes?" he said almost tauntingly. you could feel his hot breath over your lower abdomen, and you felt like you were being tickled. he decided to be a little slower, moving his hands to your thighs instead, rubbing at them, his fingers ghosting over your skin the closer he got to your heat, and when your mouth dropped open, the smallest moan came out of your mouth when he let his palm rest over you, he couldn't help but rut his length onto your thigh a little through his jeans.

when your legs spread more between him, he took it upon himself to go back down to the same position he was in, holding one of your legs apart by your knee while the other one attempted to pull your panties over your legs. eren was growing excited watching your hips lift up and your underwear fly across the room. his eyes were dark, hungry almost as he watched you try to close your legs again, but his hand was still holding them open as he stared at your glistening cunt. "damn," he breathed out shakily, jade eyes swapping between the view of your face staring at the ceiling in slight nervousness, and your pussy, sitting pretty in front of him, for him. "let me taste you."

you nodded your head almost too fast, and that urged eren on, him settling himself in between your legs. "you're so sexy," his thumb gave your clit a few test rubs watching your hips buck up slightly, and you could feel yourself pulse, aching for more contact, but eren was being painfully slow. he let his thumb drop down lower until it slide between your folds, gathering your slick on the digit, pride filling his body at how much coated his thumb. "you're so wet because of me." way to fill his ego. you rolled your eyes with a small chuckle that made him reciprocate, the childish smile returning on his face.

"stop..." you said, letting your hand fall to your stomach, the small moment of laughter making you a tad bit more comfortable. eren closed his eyes, pressing his tongue against your clit before flipping it and dragging it down to your entrance. before you could even buck your hips up his hand flew to your side, his fingers pressing into your skin, holding your hips in place, a whine leaving your lips that egged eren on. "fuck," the new sensation of his tongue on you, simply sitting on your hole had you wriggling underneath him. he opened his eyes to watch you, your head thrown back on your pillow, mouth agape your hand now kneading at your breast, bra pulled down around you waist, and eren couldn't help but smirk against your throbbing heat.

"you like that?" his lips moved against you and you visibly shuddered, causing eren to chuckle.

"yeah..."

eren pressed a kiss to your clit before finally letting his tongue slip into your hole, a small gasp eliciting from you as you felt yourself clench around the wet muscle. he audibly groaned, the way you tasted and felt around him making him tighten in his pants. he pushed his tongue in and out, relishing in each of your gasps and the moans you tried to hide. he pulled back for a brief moment, bringing his fingers up to spread your lips. "don't hold back, i wanna hear you." and he slid his tongue up your slit before sliding it back in, essentially tongue fucking you, your back arching as much as possible under his restraint.

"eren, fuck— more," you hissed. it felt almost teasing, you needed something bigger, something to fill you up and fuck you good, and the thought alone along with eren's tongue venturing inside of you made you even wetter, and eren could feel it, slurping at your juices. the vibrations made you yelp out, his grip on one side of your hips tightening while he readjusted his fingers in a v-shape to hold your lips apart.

eren gave you a small break, pulling back for a brief moment to let you calm down before gently sucking on your clit. he let his tongue sit on it then went back down, this time taking his index and sliding it into you, a drawled out moan leaving you. your eyes squeezed shut, and no— no, it still wasn't enough, but it felt so good.

eren smiled to himself, seeing you shaking in pleasure, knowing it was him doing so, and let his fingers do some work, kissing up your thighs then nibbling on the skin slightly, your other leg sliding up and down on the bed and your toes curling. he pecked kisses back down your thigh until his lips met your clit again, lapping at it lightly and letting the cold air hit it before pressing his open mouth against it and sucking, small hums of content leaving him.

"i can't," you could feel yourself throb as eren pumped his finger in and out of you, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you and you almost cried out, that familiar feeling of an overload of pleasure creeping up on you. "i'm gonna come," and god, did he want to feel you cream all on his mouth.

"gonna come for me?" eren added another finger, feeling you squeeze around him as he continued to thrust them into you, letting his lips come back to lick at your heat as he fingered you faster while his other hand trailed up and down your sides instead of holding them down. you let one of your hands come back down into eren's hair, finding a grip on the brown locks and pushing his head down further, eren humming in content, sucking harder for your pleasure.

"yes, eren, yes!" you blabbered, the heat in your lower abdomen twisting around as you grind against eren's face until your orgasm tumbled over you, your hips stuttering, back arching while eren slipped his fingers out, taking both of your thighs on either side of his head and helping you come down from your climax while he licked at you until you were back calm yet your breathing uneven.

eren pulled off of you with a pop, his eyes meeting yours, but you only looked for a split second before you let them go down to his lips, covered in your wetness, and he smiled, his tongue slipping over his top and bottom lip. "you taste good, that was good..." he climbed over top of you until his fingers were prodding at your lips, asking for entrance so he could have you taste yourself, and you complied, lips parting and his digits slipping in while your tongue swirled around them. he curved his fingers, pushing them further down your throat as far as possible before slipping them out and coming down to kiss you, the taste of you even more apparent as your mouths met. he slipped his tongue in, grabbing your jaw and kissing you fervently, tongues dancing together for a bit before he reluctantly pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours. "good job."

your hands made quick work of pulling off your bra completely despite the ache from keeping your legs apart while eren shifted backwards off the bed as you watched him unzip his jeans, pulling down his pants until he was left in grey boxers. he pulled those down too, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen without shame and you nearly drooled when he took it in his hand, rubbing up and down the length while coming back over to his bed. you grabbed eren's hand, trying to keep your eyes off of his length making him let out a low laugh. "you scared?" he joked as you brought him down next to you.

"shut up— no, i'm not." your hands moved to his chest pushing him down to his pillows but eren sat back up, placing his own hands over yours.

"woah, it's okay, you don't have to." he realized you wanted to suck him off, but he didn't want to make it about him tonight as to not give you any ideas that any of this was temporary. he wanted to take it easy and pleasure you like he just did, make you feel good, and make you cry out his name, not vice versa. "you lay down." eren flipped the two of you, until you were back underneath him, and he took it upon himself to rub your breast, letting his thumb and index twirl one of your nipples between his fingers. his mouth came in contact with your other boob, talented tongue going to work at your reciprocating nipple for a brief moment before pulling back. "i don't know if i have a condom."

you glance up at eren, a frown forming on your face. you knew he messed around a lot and that somewhat worried you. "you don't have condoms here or something?" your eyes darted around his room.

"it's my mom's house, no i don't have condoms." eren was growing impatient, precum visibly leaking out his tip so he took it upon himself to smooth it down his length while he thought. "i'm clean though, i swear." he added. "i haven't had sex in a couple weeks either." you gave eren a wary look. "i'm not lying."

with a roll of your eyes you nodded your head and shifted around, but eren stopped you halfway, hand pulling your hip back down to the bed. "nah, i want to see your face, gorgeous." just as fast as he slipped out of his alluring mood, he slipped back into it and your lip twitched as his hand ran down your side until it was back at your thigh, eren pulling your leg further from the other. he looked down to position himself in front of you, mouth in an 'o' shape at the sight in front of him. he was about to fuck you, and fuck you so good. "you ready?"

"mhm."

so eren slid himself inside of you, both of you groaning simultaneously until he was buried at the hilt— and this is what you longed for. you felt so full and it felt so nice, the way he stretched you out was indescribable and your mouth hung open, small gasps coming out as your hand gripped at eren's forearm near your head. "fuck, you okay?"

albeit your eyes being squeezed shut and eren feeling like he was splitting you open, you nodded your head hastily, nails digging more into his skin. it had been awhile since you had sex yourself, so the feeling almost felt like your first again. "yeah... you're just, so— big..." you managed to breathe out. you should've kept your mouth shut, you could practically see eren's ego inflate, his lip twitching trying to suppress his smile.

he brought his palm to your face, smoothing over the skin with his thumb. "yeah? well you're so tight," eren pushed a little further until his tip was brushing your cervix, then his body coming back a little bit until his head was a distance above your pussy, collecting spit in the front of his mouth before letting it slowly drop down onto your clit, rubbing it in to soothe you further as he pulled out a bit, tantalizingly slow. "i'll go slow at first."

eren pushed in and out slowly like he promised, but it didn't last for long, his pace quickening fast, but luckily he continued to rub you in circular motions to help ease the pain until it melted into pleasure. "can't believe you're letting me fuck this pretty pussy of yours." he groaned out, his hips rocking against yours.

the way you wrapped around him, squeezing him impossibly tight wasn't fair. you felt exactly how he thought you would, maybe even better, and every thrust of him inside you had him holding back more and more. "shit, _____." his voice came out in a whimper, and his elbows were brought down to the bed while your legs wrapped around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer.

for you, the sensation was incredible, the way he pulled out just before he was no longer inside of you, then pushed in until you could feel him against your cervix, every time he hit it pleasure shooting up inside of you. it had your skin feeling tingly and your hands flying to grip at the sheets, small wails of pure euphoria coming out of you and edging eren on. "eren," you cried as his teeth began to nibble on your neck, sucking on it as well in efforts to mark you. his necklace sat cold against your chest as he sucked on your neck and increased your pleasure.

"yeah, i love hearing my name from you like that, say it again." he almost demanded, pumping into you harder, your body rocking on top of the bed with every time eren slammed his hips into yours, your wetness collecting on his pelvis. "again," he popped off from your neck watching the skin slowly darken, and he knew there'd be a hickey soon enough.

"eren!" you whimpered, rolling your own hips down into his, eren supporting himself on his arms again, bringing one up to wrap around your neck, giving a test squeeze. "fuck..." you choked out as he tightened his grip, almost surprised at the fact that you weren't trying to push his hand away. his fingers tapped against your neck before he pressed harder, coming down to kiss you again, tongue licking at your bottom lip, your breathing shortening from the lack of oxygen coming in or out. he pulled at your lip before making every thrust of his powerful, pulling out slow then coming back in strong.

"so you like when i choke you like that?" he mumbled against your lips before pressing his against your jaw. "you're so dirty... never thought you'd be like that." and finally he let you take in air, palm moving from your neck to your breast, giving it a nice squeeze.

eren lift your hips up a little bit so he could find that spot inside of you— and when he finally hit it you all but screamed, his hand slapping over your mouth and eren's eyes widening. "shut the fuck up!" his tone serious, as you forgot that his mom was only rooms over. you gave him a sympathetic look in apologies as he slid his hand from your mouth.

"'m sorry, but you feel so good..." you pouted trying to kiss him up in excuse. it had to have worked the way eren leaned forward so he could brush against your sweet spot again, this time you gasping.

"yeah? i feel so good?" he repeated.

"yeah."

"'atta girl," you were consumed in ecstasy, the praise, the stimulation, the feeling of his pendant against your skin, everything was surrounding you and that familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching began climbing again, you just needed a little more. "taking this dick like that— and liking it too." eren unwrapped your legs from his waist, his pace speeding up again. "i bet you want me to fuck you like this more often."

you groaned, your hand snaking down to rub at your clit again, and only after a couple rubs were you seeing stars, your back arching again, every nerve in your body being pinched as you came all over eren. a cry of his name came out over and over again and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

he didn't stop, no, he was close himself, and the way you were pulsing around him as if you were trying to milk him was helping him to his end. your body went almost limp as you let eren finish. "fuck, fuck, i'm almost there too," he bucked his hips into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his hand finish him off, rubbing himself profusely until spurts of white came out flying onto your chest and stomach. "shit." he panted, and you were too, your breathing unstable, chest rising up and down after your orgasm. "shit."

eren rolled over until he was laid down beside you, your eyes struggling to stay open. eren let his rake over you, from the mark on your neck, to his cum splattered on your midsection, to the small sheen of sweat that covered yours and his body, causing some of his flyaways to stick to his forehead. he sighed in content before getting up to go grab a rag to clean you up.

"don't go to sleep yet." he said as he wiped and cleaned you up with a damp rag, cleaning himself off as well.

"why?" you mumbled with your eyes closed as you turned around so your face smushed against eren's pillow.

eren grabbed his boxers slipping them back on and contemplated handing you your underwear as well or letting you stay comfortable. seeing you wake up bare would cause a problem for him that he didn't want to deal with so he grabbed your underwear and helped slipped them on you, then rummaging through his bag for one of his shirts. "come on, let me put this on you." you reluctantly obliged, picking yourself up from his pillow and lifting your arms so he could slip his shirt over your head before climbing into his bed next to you, pulling you flush against him.

"you okay... was that okay?" there he went, checking up on you.

"yeah, you okay?" and there you went, doing the same.

"yeah... that was real good," eren kissed the top of your head. "i meant it when i said this is different." he rubbed your back, pulling you even closer, his legs tangling with yours as the two of you cuddled under the covers. it didn't feel as wrong to you anymore. a little weird? yes, but his words were reassuring. "i want something with you... i do. you do so much for me, we're always together, my mom loves you— i love you... i don't know, i just wanna be with you."

your heart was pounding in your chest, even through your tiredness. "can you show me you can be better first? work for me?" you didn't want to just hand yourself to eren that easy. "i want you to show me how much you love and care for me. get yourself together, settle down, then i guess you can settle down with me later."

"later?" it pang eren's heart a bit that he wouldn't be able to call you his just yet, but he was determined to do what it would take to get you.

"later."

                                           彡

"_____, wake up, my mom made breakfast." your eyes opened slowly at the sound of eren's voice. you turned over to see him dressed, sweatpants and a shirt on his body, hair slightly damp from what appeared to be a recent shower. "get ready, i'll wait."

with hesitance, you got up and got yourself cleaned up and ready. you threw on some leggings and a sweatshirt as you didn't recall any plans with eren nor his mom that evening, and with that you and eren head downstairs, eren's hand holding yours as he pulled you down, but he didn't drop contact with you when the two of you got into the kitchen. instead of holding your hand, he hopped up on the kitchen counter pulling you between his legs where you stood.

"good morning, when did you two come home last night?" carla asked from her position at the stove, flipping a pancake before grabbing three plates from the cabinet next to her and then turning around to face the two of you. neither you or eren missed the suspicious glance she gave you when she saw your stances, holding back her question so you could answer hers.

"probably around twelve... we left early." you said.

"i thought so, i heard something last night but i remembered it was probably just the two of you so i went back to sleep." carla slipped the last pancake onto the stack then handed eren the three plates to place on the kitchen table. "am i missing something?" she said giving you two a one over as she gave him the plates.

"no. there's three people and three plates." eren said as he placed them onto the table, and you rolled your eyes at his stupidity.

"no, like... you guys seem comfortable today." realization hit him as he turned around to his mom trying to hide his stupid grin, which told you to not let him speak.

"uh, me and eren talked yesterday." carla raised an eyebrow at you as she walked past you to put the stack of pancakes on the table, you following behind her to take a seat.

"about?"

eren glanced at you then to his mom as she brought over a container of syrup and some forks and knives. "i'm trying to make _____ my girlfriend." he said blatanly, watching his mom freeze up as she put a fork and knife beside your plate.

"really?"

"yeah... he is." you couldn't decipher her reaction, until a small smile appeared on her face as she pat your shoulder and took a seat with you and eren.

"i'm glad." she hummed. "it took you guys long enough... but why is he trying?"

you avoided carla's eyes, concentrating on pulling a pancake to your plate as eren seemed nonchalant about the whole ordeal. it was his mom, so of course he'd be less nervous about it than you.

"i told him i wanted him to get some things together first."

carla nodded in understanding as she began cutting her pancakes. "i see. that's good, just let me know if anything okay?"

"okay." you and eren said the same time causing carla to giggle.

"i'm talking to _____ not you." her tone had a hint of excitement to it.

she was happy, and something inside you was too.

you weren't sure if eren getting a drink spilled on him was karma or luck.

[hexarcana]

Aggie wants to stop him, having a pretty good feeling of what might happen. It would be one thing if it was just Carla down there. But Thistle is bad news, and most of his friends are too. By the time she's got the nerve to stop him, he's gone. She gets up from the steps and goes down after him, kicking herself for not acting sooner. She bumps into Stanford, but she's in such a rush to get to Stanley that she doesn't even notice, even when he calls after her. She ducks between people, desperate to stop the very bad thing that she can feel unfolding from happening. - Carla turns to Stan, her curly brown hair bounces as it goes over her shoulder.

"Oh, Hi Stanley." She says, turning more his way. "What's up?" She looks a little surprised and a little confused at his outburst. She's about to ask him to slow down and start over when Thistle joins the conversation. She rolls her eyes a little at the older boy, but doesn't protest when he puts his arm around her. She elbows him, not really approving of the teasing. "C'mon Thistle, leave the kid alone." She says softly to him. She has no inclination that calling Stan a kid might wound him in any way. Thistle ignores her, which makes her roll her eyes again.

Thistle moves from Carla, stepping up to Stan and looming over him with his significantly taller frame. "Oh, he isn't, huh?" He asks, "I dunno, little guy. Last I checked being a four eyed dweeb with extra digits makes you pretty damn weird." He folds his arms, "And you and him both hang out with that creepy woods girl. I guess freak recognizes freak. She and him make the perfect little freak duo, and you just tag along. Can't find any normal people to hang out with, huh? " His sneer turns into a threatening scowl. "And ya know what else is weird?" He advances a bit more, his chill hippy vibe completely replaced by the wrath of a sixteen year old boy with some sort of complex. "Being a little twerp and making googoo eyes at my girl." He jabs the younger boy in the chest. "So back off, shrimp."

"Thistle." Carla groans, "Seriously, knock it off." She knows it's no use, really. She glances away from this altercation, clearly embarrassed and annoyed. She catches sight of the little blonde girl Thistle had just mentioned. She, along with a few people had turned their attention to the two boys. The girls little hands are balled into fists. Carla really didn't have any issue with the Pines boys. They were both sweet kids, but that girl was another story. Weird stuff happened when that kid was around.

-

"Stanley.." Aggie says quietly, more to herself than to anyone around her. She's silently begging him to walk away. She's seen kids that got wailed on by Thistle before and it isn't pretty. She even tries to will Thistle to shut his stupid mouth, but it's too late, he's already said enough to spark wrath.

Stan sighs as Thistle monopolizes Carla's attention. He worshiped the very ground that Carla walked on and she spent her time with someone like him. He glares at Thistle again. It was so unfair. To her he was probably just the dorky kid who went about with his brother solving mysteries that occasionally made the Gravity Falls Gossiper. He wondered if he could change that?

All he could think about now was if it was possible to best someone nearly double his height in a fight. Maybe if he punched Thistle hard enough that would impress Carla right? Right? That's what girls were impressed by, he imagined.

He rises to his feet, suddenly full of a determination he didn't knew existed.

"I'll be right back Aggie..." Stan said, trying to sound the very picture of manly composure.

He strode down the stairs and across the dance floor. Why was Sixer now wearing a sweater with the number 2 written across it? And why was he paling around with that Fiddleford kid? Didn't he know he was Stan's rival? He'd need to catch up with him later, he was so going to get in trouble with Graunty Mabel for ditching the ticket table.

He reaches the small group of teens over by the punch bowl.

He clears his throat as loudly as he can.

A few turned heads, but they quickly ignore him and go back to talking.

He clears his throat again.

Finally Carla turns to face him. The moment he's been preparing for.

The older girl gives him a kindly smile. Not outright insulting him, always a good sign. Though that could be a patronising smile the kind of smile which is actually hiding an insult and...

Stop it Stan, you're panicking here.

"Uhhhh....HI...carla...." Stan says, his pubescent voice bouncing between adenoidal cracking and overly loud. God why was this so difficult. And why was he was sweating so much?

"Iwasjustwonderinifmaybeyouwantedtoda-" Stan squawks out the sentence without pausing between words. He's about to say the last word when Thistle also turns around to face Stan, maybe suddenly aware that he longer has Carla's full attention.

"Well look what we got here..." Thistle spits out. His tone isn't even all the way toward mocking yet. Thistle knows that Stan isn't even worth the energy to fully ridicule. "Shouldn't you be with that weird brother of yours, 'solving mysteries'?" his voice drips with sarcasm on the last two words. "I hear there are plenty of missing cats to keep you occupied..." Thistle drawls, ending the sentence with a scratchy hyena like laugh.

"My brother isn't weird..." Stan mutters, looking down.

"What's that short round? Didn't quite hear ya there." Thistle smirks. He's enjoying this.

"My brother isn't weird Thistle." Louder this time.

"

[delfiore]

warming her pearls

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader (victorian!au)

synopsis: as you develop an intimate relationship with the daughter of the family you work for, her set of pearl necklace bonds you to her in ways you could never forget. (based off of carol ann duffy’s poem of the same title)

warnings: implicit smut (minors look away nOW), angst, homophobia, domestic abuse

word count: 7.0k

a/n: plot device carla from golden affairs is back!!1!1

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Perhaps it all started that day like any other day.

In her billowy maroon gown, though stunning, many would consider scandalous by the open back, she stepped out of her family’s carriage after her mother hurriedly sauntered inside. While her mother picked up her dress and stepped through the main entrance, the mistress held her chin high to embrace the few droplets of the light drizzle, a soft smile adorning her face. Her mother had urged her to come inside quickly, so she wouldn’t get wet, but your mistress only rolled her eyes and followed her leisurely. You didn’t forget to straighten your back and keep your hands in front of you, like you were taught when met with those above you. Perhaps that was where it all started, a simple look, a smile, almost apologetically, a face like an angel’s, and sunlight piercing through rain on a Saturday afternoon.

You came into the Maximoffs’ service at merely ten years of age. Your father was a coachman for them and upon his passing, the family was generous enough to take you in as a servant girl. You only came into Wanda’s service when you were 17. Before that, you were a scullery maid, from dawn to dusk circling around the kitchen, and thus only seeing your mistress when you see her. When you became her personal maid, she had transformed from an awkward teenage girl that looked uncomfortable in things her mother forced her to wear into a more self-conscious and, admittedly, ravishing young woman with straighter posture and more defined jawlines.

After dinner, you walked the steps up to Wanda’s chamber. Upon three knocks she let you in, and there was that smile again. As she sat in front of the mirror, you took the brush by her vanity table and combed through her silky, dark hair. Her mane was smooth between your fingers and you almost felt criminal being able to touch them.

“I didn’t catch your name.” The young mistress spoke up.

“Y/N, madam.” You answered almost immediately.

“You’re Old Dorian’s daughter?”

“Yes, madam.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” Mumbled Wanda, as if talking to herself. After a while, she commanded. “That will be all.”

It would be her 18th birthday soon and families like the Maximoffs put utmost importance into the coming of age of their children, most of all Wanda’s twin brother, Pietro, who would take over the family business one day. The mistresses of the house would begin to pick their attire for the feast. You looked up from the hand brush, your hand full of soap, and peered into the living room where they were examining what seemed to be multiple dresses laid out for them. Your mistress strolled through the mannequins wearing the dresses, as her mother went on about how beautiful she would look at the event. “You would do well to impress our guests at the party. We would find you a perfect suitor for a perfect match,” Mrs. Iryna said with a satisfied smile. You looked away before either of them could notice you snooping, and went back to scrubbing the floor.

“It’s all Mother cares about,” Wanda sighed, looking at herself in the mirror, “to dress me up like a doll and parade me for all the men to see. It’s like she doesn’t even care about what I want.”

Untying her corset, you kept your head down and freed her from her day gown. Just when you had almost pulled the gown from her, your mistress grabbed your arm abruptly, making you look up at her with startled eyes.

“You wouldn’t dismiss my wishes, now, would you, Y/N?” She looked at you, full of curiosity. You stared back at her wide eyes at the peculiar question she asked you.

“Of course not, madam.” You replied. “Your wish is my command, always.”

Wanda gave you a lingering look. “Will I be seeing you at the party?”

“I’ll be there serving supper, madam.”

She nodded, walking towards the vanity and sat down. “Brush my hair, please.”

The day of the birthday party, you were already exhausted. Preparing for the feast from before the sun came up until late afternoon left you beaten and tired, Though it wasn’t all that bad because you would get to see your mistress before the festivities started. And how glorious she looked. You were among the maids that helped her into the navy ball gown inlaid with gold she picked out days prior, and when she stepped into the dining room on her brother’s arm, the party erupted into cheers and claps. You stood against the wall with a small smile as the party received her with high spirits.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us in celebrating our children’s coming-of-age birthday.” Mr. Oleg started with a proud smile. “It has been an honor to watch you grow into the adults you are today and your mother and I cannot express how much we love you and how proud we are of both of you. To my son, Pietro, may you become the man to lead this family with dignity and grace, and to my beautiful daughter, Wanda, may you find happiness in the path that you choose with a family of your own. To Pietro and Wanda.”

“To Pietro and Wanda!” The crowd echoed and all raised their glasses in honor of the twins. Then it was time they were then given their presents. Pietro received a book, telling tales of the deepest jungles and its exotic animals in the heart of Africa, while Wanda was given a beautiful pearl necklace, to which she smiled excitedly as her mother put it on her. The pearls complimented the smooth skin on her neck, and she was the brightest star that evening. The polite-birthday-girl persona, however, was shaken off immediately as soon as Wanda stepped into her chamber. You followed her as she sighed exasperatedly, reaching behind her back to untie the strings of her gown.

“Let me help you with that, madam.” You hurriedly got to work on her dress.

“That was exhausting.” Wanda sighed again, and when you finally got the dress off of her, she let out a satisfied moan. Your hands stiffened as you carefully placed the gown on the lounge chair at the foot of her bed, to be brought away and washed later.

“Did you not enjoy the feast, madam?”

“It’s a handful.” The mistress slowly walked towards her vanity and motioned you to come over. “I had to smile, and sweet talk all the guests, smile some more. My mother wants me to find a suitor, but I found every man that came just . . . distasteful.”

“Well, at least you’ve got this.” You motioned towards the box on the table.

“Ah, yes.” She let out a scornful laugh, and opened the box, revealing the row of spotless white pearls. “Another necklace. How thoughtful of my parents.”

You felt bold. “Shouldn’t you be grateful, madam? Your parents must love you enough to give you such an expensive gift. Isn’t that what love is?”

You spotted her gaze on you in the mirror, then she let out a quiet laugh. “What do you know about love, little bird?”

“I—“ You thought for a moment. “Love is . . . sacrifice, putting the needs of those whom we love before our own, and not expecting anything in return.”

“How do you know that? Have you ever been in love?”

You looked up to her reflection, she was in thoughts. “No, madam.” You shook your head.

Wanda stood from her chair, and took the pearl necklace from its container. “I don’t like to wear new necklaces. They’re cold and make me uncomfortable.” She explained. “Keep it warm for me, under your collar, so I can wear it in the morning.”

You held your breath when she was just inches away from you, leaning down towards your neck to wrap the pearls around it. Her arms draped around you for a brief moment before she hung them to close the necklace. She was so close, you could smell her scent and the heat that her body emitted. You avoided her eyes as she worked on you, the faint light of the candle casting over her visage, the curved line of her jaw, her collarbone, and the valley of her breasts. You swallowed, and pushed the sinful thoughts about your mistress aside.

“There.” She whispered, stroking the necklace and the skin around it.

“Are you sure you’d want me to . . . “

“Of course. Who else if not you?”There was a smile on her face, one much more relaxed and genuine than the one you saw she constantly plastered on at the party. This made you smile as well.

“Thank you for today, little bird. You must be exhausted. Go rest.” She turned away, and closed the box. “You’ve earned it.”

You bowed and headed towards the door. Before you left, you quietly muttered. “Happy birthday, madam.” You saw her smile before you closed the door.

Sleep came difficult for you that night. Staring at the attic ceiling that arched over you, your mind kept turning back to the young mistress two floors below you, sleeping soundly in her bed. You reached up to touch the necklace on your chest with a smile.

“What are you smiling about?” You turned to the dark, and grinned even wider.

“Nothing.”

“Did you meet someone?” You felt your bed dip.

“No, Carla.” You eyed her in amusement.

“I know a lovesick grin when I see one.” Carla shoved your shoulder. “Who is it?”

“It’s not . . . someone. It’s just—” You sighed. “I’ve been getting along really well with Wanda.”

“Wanda. As in Wanda Maximoff? The young mistress?” In the faint moonlight you could see your friend raise her eyebrows.

“Yes, but it’s not like that. I don’t know. She let me wear her necklace, to warm it for her, she says.”

“Well, look at you. Charming all the rich people left and right.” Carla whispered loudly and giggled.

“I’m not charming her, Carla! Don’t say that!” You bolted upright and covered her mouth. The girl eyed her with your hand on her mouth, then bursted out into a fit of giggles.

“Idiot.” You mumbled, and lay back down.

This was what you and your mistress had in common, the wearing of these white beads, whatever it was. Though maybe this was all you had, and all you’ll ever have, you would be content with it, because it was you and hers, nobody else’s, you and hers only.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

All night you dreamed about her, and all day you thought of her. She clung to your mind like twisted vines, only seeming to grow and flourish as the days go by. Wanda, your mistress, was a wonderful thing, the light in this darkness of an existence that you led. As much as it seemed that she clung onto your mind, it was you that clung onto her to keep going, hoping that you would catch a moment alone with her. As you watched your mistress play ball with her brother in the backyard, her sweet laughter filling your ears, you began to think about what could be. No, as much as you wished for it, things could never happen between you, for she was an heiress and an invaluable bachelorette, and you were but a lowly servant. Not to mention the taboo subject of a romantic affiliation between two women; you would be met with even more criticism. You would never let your mistress shoulder such wariness. So you decided you would spend your whole life serving your mistress. Wherever she goes, you follow. You would be there to make sure she would be happy and safe.

“Lemonade, sir? Madam?” You called with a polite smile at the twins.

At your voice, both turned around and jogged towards you before you handed them their refreshments.

“Thank you, дорогой (dear).” She took the glass from you and drank like her life depended on it. You knew you had to, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away as she tilted her head up and the skin on her neck pulsated with the drink flowing down her throat. It seemed she drank too fast and some of the liquid ran down the sides of her mouth down her neck and wetted the collar of her dress. When she put the empty glass down with a satisfied sigh, you stood frozen as your throat ran dry. She ran off, but not before flashing a smile at you. Seconds later, you snapped out of your trance and returned inside with the image of the gorgeous mistress replaying in your mind.

Maybe it would have been easier if the mistress didn’t bat an eye, you would find it much easier to separate your fantasies from the grim real life. But she excited you, reeled you in with every word she spoke. She bursted with life and vibrancy that you yourself wasn’t sure you had. Then there was the pearl necklace, the one vital object that bound you to her. You would wear it during the night, warm it, keep it safe, and she would wear it during the day and your warmth would stay with her. You wondered if she thought about you as much as you thought about her.

Until you saw Wanda again, you were called to serve dinner for her father who came home late from business and would be eating later than the rest of the family. Maybe this had been a wake-up call for you, as you were punished as soon as your work was not up to standards. Mr. Oleg had gotten angry because you spilled wine on his sleeve. You left the dining room choked up in tears with a red mark on your cheek and a bleeding lip after the man struck you, and waved you away with a dismissal “leave”. You wiped away the tears that had fallen and took a deep breath to regain composure. Maybe you deserved it, you thought, for reaching towards the stars where people like you couldn’t dare to dream of reaching.

You tried to hide your injury from the mistress, but judging from the deep frown that adorned her face, you knew that she noticed.

“Hello, little bird.” She greeted you softly. You gave her a small smile and closed the door behind you. It took a few minutes as you prepared the fire that kept her warm for the night before she asked you about it. You only waved it off and told her you fell as you continued to brush her hair.

“I don’t believe you.” She shook her head.

“It’s alright, madam.” You placed your hands over hers and held it in gratitude. “You mustn’t worry about me.”

There was conflict on her face. “Sit down.” She pointed at the lounge chair. “Sit. I command you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but your mistress insisted and pushed you down. “Don’t go anywhere.” She spoke before disappearing from her chamber. Moments later, she returned with a small pot of what you thought was ointment. There were words written on the side that you didn’t understand, which must have been Sokovian, and very expensive, never used for the servants in the house before.

“Oh, madam, it’s really not necessary—”

“Stay still now.”

The close proximity Wanda had yet again created between you stirred your stomach and flipped it upside down. Your heart began to pound wildly as the mistress stood between your legs and bent down to apply the paste on your lip and the reddened area on your cheek. You tried not to look, you really did, but the beauty in front of you could not be missed, not when she was right there.

“Here, take it.” She closed the lid and clasped the pot into your hand. “I don’t know what happened, but you mustn’t let it happen again. Don’t let such a pretty face like yours be tainted.” She hesitated, then whispered. “It breaks my heart seeing you hurt.” It breaks my heart seeing you hurt. Before the sweetness of her honeyed words wore off, you closed your eyes as she leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on your cheek, just away from the corner of your lip where it was aching. The kiss burned you like fire, incinerating the desire you knew was simmering in your soul for her. When she pulled away, there was an indecipherable look in her eyes.

“Can you read, little bird?” She asked you suddenly.

You blinked once. “Just about, madam.”

She hummed and walked towards her bed, leaning against one of the poles at its foot. “Take a book from the shelf. Read to me.”

You obliged. By the bookshelf nailed against the wall, you glided your hand over the spine of the books, and picked a random one. Truth be told, you didn’t really know any books as there was never time for you to read recreationally. You showed the book to her just as she had gotten comfortable under the sheets.

“A handsome young knight is in love with a princess, and she too is in love with him, though she seems not to be entirely aware of it.” While you read, you would sneak tiny glances at Wanda, seeing her watch you and smile fondly. “Despite the friendship that blossoms between them, or perhaps because of that very friendship, the young knight finds himself so humbled and speechless that he is totally unable to bring up the subject of love. One day he asks the princess point-blank: ‘Is it better to speak or die?’”

“I think he should.” Voiced Wanda, eyes to the ceiling. “Such a shame to miss out on something great just because you let your fear win.”

“What if it’s not his fear?” You spoke. “What if circumstances wouldn’t let them be together?”

“Love has many enemies, it’s a tale as old as time.” The mistress answered. “But wouldn’t you rather be in love to face its enemies? I know what I would choose. It’s human nature.”

“I could never find the courage to ask.” You dared yourself to look Wanda in the eyes. And she returned your gaze.

“What is there to lose?”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

As an effort to push the mistress to the back of your mind, you indulge yourself in any work that presents itself around the estate. You tended to Wanda in every way she needed you to, and when she didn’t need you, you cleaned, brushed, swept, carried things into and out of the house, mostly the groceries orders that came in weekly from the local market. You worked until your bones were weary and your muscles ached. Maybe part of you wanted to do this to remind yourself of who you were and the things you had to do to get by, and the stark difference between you and your darling mistress. While you were washing clothes in the afternoon, Wanda was in town doing god knows what a young heiress did when they went into town. You saw her climbing into the carriage after Pietro did.

Wanda had been looking forward all day to coming home. She had decided that business meetings were the most boring thing in the world, and she was glad for once the responsibility will not fall on her as she was Papa’s female child, and will therefore not inherit Maximoff Oil Co. directly. While Pietro listened tentatively as Papa exchanged words with his business partners, Wanda stared out the window, watching the cloud. The fluffy, white pillows hung in small clusters and they soon formed a shape like you in front of her eyes. Truth be told, she counted down the minutes until she could see you again. Ever since you came along, she felt less alone in a household full of those who abided so much by the roles they were given, while she didn’t. She found a friendship in you, in the purest and lightest form, she felt a connection that helped her escape the rigid lifestyle of the aristocracy. Then there was the necklace she let you wear; your warmth comforted her, and might be a constant reminder of you she had around her neck during the entire trip.

“So eager to get home, sister.” Pietro teased. “Back to that beloved maiden girl of yours, no doubt.”

“Her name is Y/N.” Grumbled Wanda, watching the town flash by from the window of the carriage. “And it’s none of your business.”

When she arrived home, she didn’t even bother to go up to her chamber to change, and looked for you right away. To an outsider, it seemed as though she was waiting for something so precious, a secret lover perhaps, but she just needed to see you after a long day. Wanda had the idea of looking for you in the backyard, and there you were, hard at work washing clothes. Though when you looked up and slid over to make room for another maid, Carla she thought was her name, to join you, she couldn’t help the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach when the blond girl reach up and brush the hairs out of your face, and you only seemed oblivious to the obvious advancement that the other girl made. The girl was bold, Wanda thought, to do something like that in plain sight for anyone to see, but maybe you knew and you were fine with it. That only made Wanda feel larger contempt towards your friend, and perhaps, a bit towards you too.

The mistress didn’t greet you at first when you came into her chamber. You thought maybe she was just tired, so you stood beside her, awaiting her command. As you reached for her hairbrush, she grabbed your wrist, stopping you. When she looked up at you, there were thunderstorms behind her eyes, but you couldn’t figure out the worries that were burdening her. Her grip on you softened and she began to glide her thumb over your wrist, slowly moving towards the back of your hand. You felt it, how soft and smooth her skin felt against your own hardened and calloused one. She slid your hand to her cheek and nestled her face in it before placing a slow kiss there.

“Have you ever lain with a man before, little bird?” She asked.

In your starstruck trance, you managed to utter. “No, madam.”

“With a woman?”

“No.”

Suddenly, she had stood up and was all you could see. “Would you like to try? With me?”

You nodded. This was what you wanted all along, but were too afraid to admit. She pressed her lips against yours, and you let her. When she led you to her bed and kissed you there, you let her too. You would let her kiss you everywhere if you could, so you grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her breathtakingly close to show her that you wanted this. You wanted this so badly. With every layer of clothing peeled off, your desire for her grew, and you kissed her, in every place you could place your lips on. As she lay on top of you, and worked her magic between your legs, you saw the pearl necklace that connected you both swinging around her neck from the vigor of her motions. That night, you didn’t go back to your room, frankly because Wanda made it difficult for you to walk for a while. When dawn arrived, you woke up nestled in your mistress’ arms, the events of the previous night fresh in your mind as if it just happened. You smiled as you looked up at the girl. She was as beautiful asleep as she was not. It was paradise seeing the way her chest rose and fell evenly, her lips parted, her skin glowed in morning sunlight, and her eyes closed as though she didn’t have a care in the world. She was still, as if touched by death, and you dreaded imagining the day those eyes stay closed forever. You would rather give up your life before you let that happen.

After that night, your daily visits to Wanda’s chamber would end with the both of you in her bed. Every second spent in your mistress’ arms, you cherished so dearly and you felt lucky to feel such immense pleasure every night in her embrace.

“How are you so good at this?” You closed your eyes and sighed, as Wanda had you trapped between her legs and trailed wet kisses down your neck.

She chuckled. “There are many things you don’t know about me, милый (darling).”

You learned quickly that Wanda loved to tease and was such a risk-taker. You had almost let it slip at dinner one night when you walked past her to pour more wine into Pietro’s cup, when Wanda reached behind you and squeezed your ass. As oblivious as the other boy was, you walked back to the kitchen with a furious blush on your face. As you cleaned up in the kitchen, you felt two arms snake around your waist, brown hair in your vision and kisses along your neck.

“W-Wanda, stop it. What if someone sees?” You turned around in her arms and kissed her back when she hungrily searched for your lips.

“They won’t.” She whispered. “I just couldn’t wait until tonight to see you.” She made her yearning for you very clear that night. As you lay in her bed, naked and nestled in the warmth of her bedsheet, her arm loosely holding your frame, you felt at peace. For a moment nothing else mattered, and as long as you were there in her embrace, it was you and her against the world. You and her.

“Where are you, little bird, hmm?” Wanda cooed in your ear before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. Little bird, you would never get tired of hearing her call you that.

“Why do you always call me that?” You looked up at her.

“Well, you remind me of a little bird.” She chuckled softly. “When I was a child, there was a blackbird that always sat in the tree, right there.” She pointed towards the window, where the shadow of a giant tree stood. “I would listen to it sing everyday, I even took bread from the dinner table and gave it some to eat. But one day when I came home, I sat by the window and called for the bird, but it never came. Turns out one of the stablemen caught it at the request of my mother because apparently it was too loud for her.”

“Poor little bird.” You mumbled, tracing patterns on her arm.

“But that was not the end.” Said Wanda. “The next day I climbed up that very tree, and imagine what I found; a little nest full of the bird’s eggs! So I took the nest with the eggs in it, and relocated it where my mother would not bother to find them, over in that big tree by the hill. Though the mama bird was no more, she found a way to survive through her little hatchlings. I don’t know what has become of them now, but nature always enables the most surprising ways for survival.

“You remind me of the bird, Y/N, your will to survive and thrive. Don’t let anyone take it away from you. Not my mother, my father, nobody.”

You gazed into her eyes and felt your heart grow. “Do you know what kept me going for so long?”

When she shook your head, you smiled and leaned in to peck her lips. “You.”

Gently pressing her lips to yours, Wanda let a beautiful smile spread across her face before hovering over you.

“My little bird.” She whispered, her lips ghosting over your neck. “You’re my heart.”

You should have known your little fantasy would be short lived. You and Wanda could never work, because this wasn’t some fairytale in which its characters lived happily ever after. This was real life, in which status is the ultimate determinant of outcomes, and those at the bottom would do anything to claw their way to the top.

You overheard a conversation between Wanda and her parents while you were dusting the hallway. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the sudden outburst and what sounded like Wanda caught your attention. There was something about “not letting me choose”, and “so tired of living like this” that alarmed you. So you stayed by the door and listened as much as you could. The sound of the stairs creaking took you off-guard and you jumped back towards the mirror to pretend to clean it.

“I know you were not eavesdropping on my parents, girl.” The stern voice of Pietro Maximoff made your stomach drop.

“No, sir.” You turned to him. “I wouldn’t.”

His eyes lingered on you for a bit. “That my sister’s necklace?”

“Oh, yes.” You looked down at the accessory. “She let me wear it so she could when it’s warm. You could ask her, sir. I would never take anything from Wanda without her knowledge.”

The boy nodded. “It’s just that she’s never let the maids wear her jewelry before, that’s all.” He stood back with a thoughtful look, then turned back to you. “Listen here, I know this might seem very exciting, having my sister take a liking to you. But be warned of the immensely spacious gap between you and her, and the bottomless pit at the end of the fall. When the time comes that I have to defend my sister, I will, at any cost.”

You nodded and bowed, just as Pietro took his leave. Your eyes trailed after his towering figure and watched him grow smaller until he reached the end of the hallway and stepped outside. You understood where he was coming from, and if you were him, you would act the same way. But the young master didn’t understand what was between you and his sister. He would never understand.

You didn’t know what her parents told her, but right after their talk, they left in their carriage and didn’t return until the sun had set behind the hill. When she walked through the door, her visible deflation contrasted her parents’ and their animated demeanor, deep in cheerful conversation. You waited for her to say hello, like she would do every time she comes home from somewhere, a kind smile or maybe a kiss on the cheek, but she didn’t even glance your way once. When you came into her chamber late at night, she was sitting by her vanity table, her eyes downcast and her shoulder hunched over like a sad, old cat. It pained you to see her like this, but you would not pry if she wasn’t ready to talk. Wrapping your arms around her neck and nuzzling your head into it, you offered her a small smile in the mirror.

Swiftly, and to your surprise, Wanda turned around and buried her face into your chest. You were taken by surprise when you heard a muffled sob. There wasn’t much time for you to ask what was troubling her before she searched for your lips and found comfort between them. You let her have you for the night. Tonight, she wasn’t playful and teasing, but touched you with a slowed pace, yet not any less passionate. She held your face and kissed you like it was the first and last time she ever did. She made you look into her eyes when you came, and it was the first time you saw it in her eyes; it was love. How soft her gaze was, how she whispered your name and pampered you, and how she kissed you afterwards, on your lips, your forehead, your neck before settling in your arms.

“My parents wish that I be married.” Wanda spoke quietly, staring at the ceiling. “To one of Stark Industries’ sons, Jarvis. All my parents care about are their stupid connections and alliances.”

You propped yourself up on your forearm, and stroked her hair gently. “I will come with you then. I’ll come with you to your husband’s home. We’ll still be together.”

“No. No, that won’t be possible, and I won’t stand for it, to be mated off like a tool.” Wanda shook her head frantically. By now, her face was wet with long streams of tears. “I can’t live like that, Y/N. I just can’t. I want to be with you and only you. But they won’t let us be us here. There are other places in the world that would.”

“You’re not actually suggesting we . . .” You trailed off as you took in that awaiting look in her eyes. She pursed her lips and stroked your cheek gently.

“All my life, I’ve been locked in a cage, and paraded for the public to see only when it benefits someone else. I can see what my life will be if I marry Jarvis; a lifetime of scurrying around in a house, waiting for my husband to come home as I breastfeed the children, being the good little housewife that’ll satisfy him until he gets bored and tosses me aside. That’s not the life I want. What I want . . . No, what I need is to be set free. And you, моя любовь (my love), you set me free, and I don’t ever want to go back to the cage again. I desire a life with you, one in which we can be ourselves, and love with no fear. I would rather be in love with you and face the world than do it all on my own.”

You looked at her wide-eyed. In your years of living no one has ever bore their heart out in front of you like this, much less the young mistress whom you have been dreaming about. The look in her eyes was something that you could never forget: the sincerity, the vulnerability, the sadness, the pleading gaze that reflected the fire burning softly in its pit. So you kissed her, and said yes. There was not a thing that you wouldn’t do for the mistress, as long as there is still air in your lungs.

If there was a spare moment you had the next day, you spent gathering the little belongings you had into a bag. You had tried to be discreet so as to not alarm anyone. You felt slightly guilty for not telling Carla, as she had been your number one supporter when you told her about your special relationship with Wanda, but you couldn’t risk anyone knowing. It would put the mistress in danger. She had asked you to meet her at midnight in front of the back door, you and her would then walk to the dock and catch the last ferry. “Anywhere”, she said, “anywhere is perfect as long as I’m with you.” You had taken her word for it, and worked your last day to the fullest. You finished all the laundry way ahead of time, went to fetch the water even though it wasn’t your turn today, and when you served dinner to the Maximoffs, you made sure everyone was happy with your service. Your eyes passed Wanda a few times, and she would give you small smiles that would keep you company until midnight.

Then, midnight came. You slung your bag over your shoulder, taking a last look at the attic chamber you shared with Carla for the past five years or so, and headed downstairs. It was easy to get to your meeting point as you were pretty much invisible as a servant. When you arrived at the back door, Wanda wasn’t there yet, but it didn’t faze you, as you were early.

There was murmuring in the background that you didn’t pay any mind until it got closer, and you noticed that it was the voice of the family butler, Mr. Hendrik. His eyes lit up in recognition, and swung the torch at you, calling for others to surround you.

Your eyes widened he harshly grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the house. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Wanda was supposed to be there. You heard yelling inside, it was Wanda. As you entered the living room, you saw that she was crying, standing next to her family, who looked down on her with disdain.

“I found the servant girl, sir.” Mr. Hendrik said, letting go of you.

Your eyes turned to Wanda who mouthed “I’m sorry”.

“Is this the one?” Mrs. Iryna asked, looking behind her.

“Yes, that’s her, madam.” A small voice spoke, and your heart dropped when out stepped Carla. “I’ve been watching her closely, as she would suspiciously return from the young mistress’ chamber at dawn. She was planning to take the young mistress away.”

“That’s not true! You lying bitch!” Wanda screamed, lunging forwards towards the blonde girl.

“Enough!” Oleg roared, swinging his arms across Wanda’s face with a smack. She fell to the floor as the room silenced. “You dare taint the family name and have the nerve to cause such a commotion? I gave you a roof to live under, food in your stomach every day, lavish clothes and a luxurious life, and this is how you repay me?! Ungrateful little child!” He hissed. “This . . . disgusting behavior ends today. Hendrik,” the man turned to you, “beat her until she learned her lesson.”

“No, wait!” Wanda called, standing in front of you protectively. “Please, Papa. If you have any love left for me, please, I beg you, spare her . . . If not for me, then for Dorian! He has been so devoted to our family, out of respect for him then!”

Oleg let out a scornful laugh. “You do have some gut to stand up to your father for a puny little maid, eh, дочь (daughter)?”

Wanda’s breath tightened, then she blurted out. “I’ll marry Jarvis! I’ll marry him, if you promise to spare Y/N.”

It was as if time stopped in that room. No one said a word, even Mrs. Iryna stood and awaited her husband’s answer. You panicked and hissed Wanda’s name, but she only shook your hand away.

“Very well.” Her father spoke in a low voice. “I’ll send a messenger to the Starks. You’ll be wed by the end of the week.”

Then the countdown to Wanda’s departure began. You dared not look her in the eyes every time you saw her. The wearing of the pearls had ceased, and they lay there on her table, cold and bare, untouched. Their mistress had asked you to keep wearing them, but you refused. How could you? You were ashamed of what followed when you acted upon your fantasy. As much as you blamed yourself for it, you blamed yourself even more for backing Wanda against a corner and forcing her to jump head first into a destiny that was never hers. But now it will be in a few days, all because of you. You only spoke to her only when spoken to, as it was the custom. All boundaries between mistress and maid have been reset, you thought, for the better. But when she called your name softly as you were about to leave her chamber for the night, there was no force in the world that could make you walk away.

“Y/N.” She called again. She never calls your name.

“Yes, madam?” You turned around, but didn’t meet her eye. You were afraid you wouldn't be able to leave if you did.

“Stay.” You could see her stand up and come closer from your peripheral vision.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, madam—”

“Please stop calling me that.” The seething tone of her voice startled you and made you look up, but there were tears in her eyes. “Please don’t push me away.”

You could never hide how you feel in front of Wanda. You tried, but tears that have collected in your eyes fell and you finally broke. “I’m sorry.” You sobbed, and she instantly brought you into her chest. “It’s all my fault. It’s my fault and now you have to get married.”

“No.” Wanda said, her voice wavering. She held your face in her hands and you only looked at her. “It was my choice. My choice, alright, little bird? I couldn’t let my father do that to you. You’d be crippled for the rest of your life!”

You leaned in, and for the last time you kissed her. You remembered her smell, her lips that pressed against yours, salty now that they were coated in her own tears. Until she let you go, she held your face gently, like all the other times she kissed you. It was the last time.

You weren’t allowed to see her off when she left for the Stark estate. The last time you saw her was from the window of her chamber, her eyes distant as she wiped away a stray tear. It wasn’t until the coachman pulled on the reins and the carriage rolled away with your mistress inside that the feeling of isolation began to set in. You turned back into the room, sighing before tidying her bed for the last time. You set the cover, the bedsheet and the pillows straight, just how it was supposed to be, erasing every trace of the mistress and passion of the night before.

When you picked the pillows up to fluff them, you uncovered a small pouch underneath. Your breath hitched when you opened the bag, and shiny pearls stared back at you, and a piece of paper.

“As a token of my love. Fly high, little bird.

Eternally yours,

— WM.”

You clutched the pouch to your heart and wept.

[sidehugsnsideblogs]

FCSU#83 Back to Reality

Abby arrived in the Parched Prospect and found the town to be booming. Her half sisters and brothers were largely married off now and living large homes bursting with with children. She was welcomed warmly by her remaining sisters and her stepmothers. Only Charlene and Nina’s youngest daughters remained in the house. Elden seemed proud that his golden child had come back to him despite living among townies for years.

Jayne seemed subdued as she greeted her granddaughter. After dinner she and Abby found a moment to catch up in the kitchen. "How are they? Your siblings, your mother?" She whispered. Abby caught her grandmother up on the comings and goings of the last few years. "Andrew just proposed to his girlfriend, they met in college. They’re both engineers. Mother is running a café out in Brindleton Bay, the other kids are doing well in school." She watched Jayne's eyes tear up with pride. 

"What's new here?" Jayne dropped her voice to an even lower whisper and described how Elden rebuilt the community using funds from the land he sold off. This was a controversial move as some considered the compounds to still be sacred land that couldn't just be sold away to townies. This move had some families reconsidering which camp they were in. Some of the shrewder fathers, noting that LeRoyce's group consisted of one family were angling to barter their daughters off to his henchmen in exchange for power.

Abby readjusted to life in the Prospect. She was warm and polite to all her stepmothers, many of whom were now frail and elderly. She reminded herself to make huge portions when she cooked though was strange for a polygamous home not to have many children to look after. The youngest girls, Carla, Carlee and Nola were nearing their preteens so they were pretty self sufficient. The teens were starstruck by their older sister and followed Abby around asking questions about the outside world. 

Older sister Charlotte was also staying there with her four children, her husband had been excommunicated before the schism and left the community. Charlotte had inherited her mother’s temper and now with her husband gone she’d become even more bitter. She wasn’t the biggest fan of small children so Abby spent most of her time caring for her young nephews.

But overall the mood of the house felt off in some way. It seemed as if everyone was putting up a façade, in the coming weeks Abby would realize why. A swarm of townies with video cameras descended on the house one morning but instead of chasing them off as Abby expected, Elden invited them in and had them follow the family around. "What is going on?" Abby whispered to Charlotte. "We're filming a reality TV show." She answered, dead serious.

Indeed Elden’s desire to prove he was different from LeRoyce's group had driven him to sign an agreement with a townie TV station, allowing them access to the house, the family members and their innermost thoughts. A corner of Elden’s office was set up with a camera and microphone to film "confessions" or "talking head segments."

Abby was disturbed, this was not the church she was raised in but her family insisted she participate as long as she lived under her father's roof. Abby herself seemed quite interesting to the producers as they kept singling her out for interviews. She gave her first one with Charlene by her side to make sure she didn't say the wrong thing.

The man asked her trite questions about how FCSU life differed from townie life with her mother, which one she liked better and how she managed to keep her faith for so many years. She answered as best she could. This is where she belonged, she came back to fulfill her purpose, to marry and raise up children. Charlene squeezed her hand. "That's not what they want to hear, Abby." She instructed. "It will look bad if you say your purpose is to marry and have children. The audience won't like that."

Abby was astonished, she had been taught by her mothers that her purpose WAS to marry and bear children for the Lord. Charlene herself had stated that many times. The interviewer cut the tape and asked her the question again. Abby rambled off a paragraph about how she missed her family and wanted to return to the community she'd grown up in. Everyone seemed satisfied with that take. Abby laid awake that night unsure how to feel about all this.

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC  CH 1

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie

Also posted on AO3

My requests are open!

Chapter one | Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff

Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened. 

Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.

Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.

After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.

She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.

Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.

At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.

“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.

Yeah, this place was worth checking out.

The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy. 

As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time. 

She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner. 

“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by. 

“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.

Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted. 

“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled. 

“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder. 

Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away. 

Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.

She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier. 

“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace. 

Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”

She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy. 

“I call first dibs!”

“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.

They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much. 

Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late. 

Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.

She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.

 Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.

-o-

David was having a boring night. 

His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.

Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t. 

The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief. 

It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. 

“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.

“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.

The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”

David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.

“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.

“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath. 

Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.

David was not in the mood.

He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?

It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions. 

Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down. 

And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.

She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet,  falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding. 

He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.

Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David. 

Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”

The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”

Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”

The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”

David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”

She furrowed her brow. 

“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily. 

She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants. 

Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.

“Paul,” David growled a warning. 

Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.

David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair. 

“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr. 

Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”

She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”

Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body. 

He wanted more.

“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.

“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”

David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.

He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera. 

She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked. 

When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling. 

David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers. 

He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.

Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why. 

It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it. 

“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following. 

“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers. 

“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze. 

“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes. 

“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.

Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl. 

“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.

That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that. 

“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving. 

“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair. 

“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”

Another growl. 

They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it. 

“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”

With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean. 

“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”

David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”

He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”

She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.

David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”

“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”

“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it. 

“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”

“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.

“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh. 

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.

Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.

It made David just the tiniest bit jealous. 

“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her. 

“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked. 

“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.

“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”

Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge? 

David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises. 

“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk. 

“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.

“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass. 

Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. 

“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch. 

David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”

“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.

“You better share her,” Marko whined.

David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them. 

She was into all of them.

He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that. 

Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.

As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around. 

She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from? 

She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden. 

They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight. 

Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.

Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.

Odd.

The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her. 

“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike. 

“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.

“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips. 

David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”

“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle. 

David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.” 

He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be. 

“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike. 

“David’s sire,” Marko answered. 

“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned. 

“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed. 

“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”

He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. 

Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him. 

Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt. 

If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...

“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”

“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”

Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”

Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own. 

[milenadaniels]

Actually, Truly, 14k - Buck/Eddie, Helena POV, post-s4 (AO3)

Isabel calls to tell them Eddie's been shot on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. When they land, they learn Eddie's already home recovering and has been for two weeks.

----

Or, Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns.

Isabel calls on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. Their son’s been shot, again, in the line of duty. But this time, instead of being thousands of miles away and out of reach, he’s just a short plane ride away.

Isabel insists they come to her house before going to the hospital but she doesn’t blame COVID protocols for keeping them away from the hospital, so they spend the car ride over imagining the worst.

A complication with surgery.

Permanent damage.

A coma.

The news they receive is that Eddie’s fine, and he’s been home and recuperating for two weeks already.

Helena retreats to the living room while Ramon and his mother fight in the kitchen. They’re yelling in Spanish and for once she wishes she’d never learned.

“Escúchame, Ramon,” Isabel tries to interrupt. Listen to me.

The yelling continues because Ramon doesn’t listen. It’s not his strong suit. Nor is it Helena’s.

Helena paces the length of the living room and holds her phone in her hands, thumb over Eddie’s name in FaceTime, not pressing down.

Eddie’s been home for two weeks.

Isabel hadn’t told them for two weeks.

But Eddie hadn’t either.

They hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years, and he hadn’t called them since their last fight over a month ago.

Still, Eddie was shot in the streets by a sniper and he didn’t call them.

Mom, listen...

The last time they spoke, it was a phone call, not a video chat, maybe because at that point just the sight of each others’ faces was enough to set them all off. In that phone call, Eddie spoke of a friend whose family was somehow worse off than their own, but who, miraculously, were finally making the effort to fix the broken ties between them in therapy.

“Mom, listen… I spent a long time being angry with Shannon instead of trying to reach out to her and now Christopher is never going to have her in his life again. I don’t want that with you,” Eddie said, his voice brusque but calm, measured. “I don’t want to grin and bear it when you call or when we visit. I want to be glad to pick up the phone, I want to be excited to see you all at Christmas, I want you to be part of our lives. But I can’t do that without you meeting me halfway.” He was resolute, but he was pleading too. “I don’t want to spend the next ten years of our lives like this.”

But the idea of therapy was anathema to the Diaz family and it took only Ramon’s dismissive scoff to reinforce her own distaste of the idea. They called Eddie back to say they had no intention of paying a stranger to tell them everything was their fault and he was blameless.

They didn’t get another call after that.

“— my son!” Ramon yells at Isabel in the kitchen.

“Because, mijo, when you come here, you don’t see your son! You don’t see him living here, growing, Christopher thriving! You don’t see how when you come up here you bring sadness and misery when you should bring joy and comfort.” The words are too close to what Eddie said for them not to have spoken about it together. “By the time I knew he was hurt, he was already out of surgery and doing well. If he wasn’t, I would have called immediately.”

“Oh bueno, so you’ll tell me my son is dying but not that he’s okay?”

“Ramon! Escúchame.” It’s not often that Helena gets to bear witness to the steel in Isabel’s voice, the one she passed down to both her kids. It’s in fine form today. “He was doing well, and had all the help he needed. As soon as things stabilized, I called you. Keep acting like a fool and see if I call you at all next time.”

“If you call? Are you —”

Mom, listen…

“Ramon!” Helena snaps, surprising them all.

“Ramon,” she repeats, more calmly this time. “Listen to her.”

The shock on Isabel’s face almost makes her smile, but her heart is too heavy to commit to it.

“Helena, two weeks she —”

“Our son was shot, and he didn’t tell us.” Helena says, her voice trembling. “Our son was shot, he could have died, and the last thing we would have told him is we weren’t willing to fight for him and Christopher. Weren’t willing to — what? — put our egos aside? Our pride? For one fucking minute to listen to him. To listen to what he needed.”

Ramon’s eyes widen and he hangs his head with a sigh.

Helena faces Isabel, her phone tucked in her palm against her stomach.

“What can we do? We’re listening.”

——————-

Ramon walks it off and Helena helps Isabel in the kitchen in exchange for a promise they’ll go over to Eddie’s for supper. She’s been making care packages for Eddie and Christopher since the shooting, and she’s working on a pasta sauce while Helena starts on her famous banana brown sugar bread — Eddie’s favourite.

“How is he, really?” she asks once her dish is tucked into the oven.

“As well as can be expected,” Isabel replies, throwing spices into the pot with an ease Helena never grew into. “He was tired for the first few days, but now it’s like a broken arm. Uncomfortable but not so painful.”

“How long is it supposed to take to heal?”

Isabel casts a suspicious eye her way as if she can anticipate the date of Helena’s return flight adjusting already, but answers, “they say 6 to 8 weeks. It’s for the bone to heal, mostly, in his back. The rest should be sooner.”

Helena broke her wrist years ago, when the kids were nearly teenagers, and it was three months of hell trying to manage a household one handed while Ramon spent most of that time travelling across Texas.

Who’s helping him? Is Carla back in the picture? Is she working overtime? How can he afford that on sick leave? Is Pepa or one of the cousins going over? Is his girlfriend there? Who’s helping with Christopher? How is he managing?

The questions — all genuine and well-meaning, all a shade too accusatory — are on her tongue, pressed to the back of her teeth to keep from escaping. She’s entitled to answers, even if she doesn’t like them. She knows she has the right to at least know how her son is caring for himself and her grandson while he’s injured. If he’d told them when it happened Helena could have been here in a heartbeat to help, but no, Eddie’s just as stubborn as they are, just as prideful. He’d rather suffer alone than accept their help. Fine. But she’s still his mother, and Christopher’s grandmother. She raised them both. She has a right to—

Mom, listen…

Helena takes a deep breath in, anchors herself in the mixed scents of the rich sauce and the sweet bread cooking, and breathes out. Isabel sends her another look but says nothing.

————-

Helena cries when she sees Eddie, and cries a bit harder when she sees the apprehension in his eyes. Her baby boy looks a bit pale, but he’s standing on his own two feet and answering the door himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, wrapping him gently into her arms, mindful not to press into the sling or his back.

“Hi, mom,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to gentle the stiffness in his voice.

She releases him, but not before pressing three kisses into his temple, always three. One for each of her kids.

Ramon steps into the space she leaves when she continues into the house and from the corner of her eye, she sees him cup the back of Eddie’s head and take a good look at him. For Ramon, it’s the equivalent of collapsing to the floor in tears.

Helena quickly toes off her boots and makes room at the entrance for the others behind her, which also puts her first in line to catch a sight that nearly knocks her down.

“Who is this young man I see?” she cries, throwing her hands wide to gesture at her grandson. “Last I saw you, you were just a little tyke. Now look at you, you must have grown three feet!”

Christopher giggles and Helena smiles in return as she folds him into her arms, but it’s forced. She’s not lying — he’s grown so much more than she expected. She hasn’t seen him in person since Eddie’s graduation and while video chats are priceless, they didn’t capture this growth spurt.

She can’t believe she let this happen. That she went from spending most of everyday with this little boy and now she’s missed out on two years of his life. Can’t believe Eddie kept him fro—

Mom, listen...

Supper goes well enough. Eddie never truly shakes loose the tension in his shoulders; he trades many looks with Isabel, seemingly spooked by his parents’ behaviour. He talks a lot more than he usually does, probably out of nervousness. But overall, they let Christopher take the reigns; they’re all more comfortable with that. It’s been too long since they’ve last spoken and Christopher is full of stories about his school and his friends.

“Buck says we can go to the Griffin soon. It was closed because of COVID. But before, I went with my class and they made a comet right in front of us!”

Buck. It’s the third time his name has been dropped at the table since they sat down.

She first met him, briefly, at Eddie’s graduation, but didn’t really register him as someone in her son’s life until Eddie and his crew stopped off in El Paso for dinner on their way home from fighting Texas wildfires. Buck had been cropping up in Christopher’s and Eddie’s stories for months by then and she was curious to properly meet him in person. He had seemed...young, she remembers.

“The Griffith Observatory,” Eddie corrects fondly. With Christopher, at least, it’s impossible for him not to soften.

Eddie’s only eaten half the pasta on his plate but Isabel seems satisfied. Helena bites down on the impulse to encourage him to eat more. To remind him he needs his strength to heal quickly for his little boy. She does lift the basket of garlic bread in his direction, because she can’t help herself. He eyes the basket warily as though he expects her to do more, but when she doesn’t, he shakes his head with a small smile of thanks.

“Yeah,” Christopher agrees, “it was cool but we didn’t get to stay long enough to see everything. And if we go later, Buck says we can see real meteors in the sky.”

Fourth mention.

“Christopher is on an astronomy kick,” Eddie adds redundantly.

“Wait, I gotta show you —” Christopher is sliding out of his seat before anyone can stop him and racing down the hall to his bedroom.

“Oh, honey —” Helena grips the arms of her chair out of reflex to jump up and help him — he doesn’t have his crutches, he’s only using the wall for support and he’s wearing socks — but Eddie looks over when her chair creaks.

He can’t really expect her to just sit here while Christopher—

Mom, listen…

They can hear Christopher make it to his bedroom without injury, so Helena slowly settles back in her chair and Ramon clears his throat. “He seems...okay. More okay than I would have expected.”

Eddie keeps his eyes on his father for a beat too long, assessing the comment for any hidden messages.

“He’s a resilient kid. Buck stayed here with him while I was in the hospital, so his routine wouldn’t get messed up. I think that helped a lot.”

Fifth ment— wait.

“Buck stayed with him?” The words — the tone — are out of her mouth before Helena can stop them.

On the shortlist of people she expected to hear stayed with her grandson to watch him and care for him, alone, while his father was in the hospital — Isabel, Pepa, Carla, or even Ana — Buck’s isn’t a name she expected to hear. A coworker — an unrelated man with no children of his own, over Christopher’s family? Over Christopher’s own aide? Over a schoolteacher?

Eddie’s jaw squares up and he sits up in his chair. Like light gray rain clouds suddenly turning dark, weighty with an incoming storm, a heavy tension builds in the air between them.

“Look!” Christopher exclaims as he rounds the corner, nearly throwing a thin, blue hardcover book on the table. Eddie catches it before it can slam into Christopher’s leftover pasta and sets it down on the table for him. “It shows all the things we can see in the sky over the whole year!”

Christopher climbs back into his chair and opens the book up to a random page, describing everything he seems to have nearly memorized already. By the time he reaches the upcoming meteor shower, the tension at the table has dissipated enough for Helena to excuse herself to the bathroom and not have it come off like a passive aggressive storm-off.

She washes her hands with soap pumped out of a fish-shaped dispenser that wasn’t here the last time she visited and trains her eyes on the basket of gauze, scissors and tape tucked away on the shelf above the toilet. That wasn’t there last time either.

Her baby boy was shot by a sniper. In LA.

A bullet tore through the body she created and almost took her son from her forever.

Mom, listen...

But only after she’d almost pushed him so far away he might never come back.

The tears well up again and she sniffs through them, blinking up at the ceiling until she’s back under control.

As she pivots to turn the light off, she spies a purple toothbrush resting on the ledge just above the sink. The other two toothbrushes are electric — one adult-, one child-sized — and stand on the counter.

—————-

Helena and Ramon meet the infamous Ana by accident.

When they leave Eddie’s house on Friday, Helena sends a text message to say what she couldn’t manage to say to his face — that they’re here for him, in whatever capacity he needs, that they’ll take their cues from him, even if that means giving him some space.

To that, she receives a, Thank you.

When she asks for the contact information of the therapist he had scoped out for them, she gets a phone call.

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” her son says, “but are you just doing this because I got shot?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she laughs mirthlessly. “I’m sorry to say it took our baby boy nearly dying to get our heads out of our ass.”

Eddie huffs a laugh on his end. “Well, I’ll take that silver lining.”

After that, Eddie invites them to a restaurant for brunch on Sunday, but when they reach his doorstep, they find it already occupied by a woman who’s just rung the doorbell, holding a casserole dish in her hands.

When the door opens, Eddie takes in the three of them, his eyes wide and apprehensive.

“Ana, I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, his eyes darting over her shoulder to his parents. He’s smiling, though there’s a clear strain in the corners of his eyes and mouth. They’ve been critical about Shannon for so long — and with good reason, nothing will change Helena’s mind on that — no doubt he’s expecting them to hate this new woman on sight.

“You’re Ana!” Helena exclaims with a wide smile, imbuing her voice with as much welcome as she’s capable. “Hi! It’s so good to finally meet you!”

When Eddie releases the breath he was holding, she knows she was on the mark. Ramon follows her lead and invites Ana to brunch with them on the spot and won’t hear her protests about intruding.

Eddie, of course, doesn’t protest at all but invites them in so Ana can store the casserole in the fridge — it takes both Ana and Helena’s organizational skills to find a spot for it among Isabel’s and Eddie’s tupperwares already invading all available space — and he can finish getting ready. He was already dressed in a nice polo and jeans but when he comes back from his bedroom it’s in a smart button-down he must have struggled with out of sheer stubbornness. Both his parents and his girlfriend are in the house and still he didn’t ask for help.

Eddie and Christopher decide to hop into Ana’s car and Helena asks loudly for directions to keep Ramon from insisting they should all ride together.

“So how long have you kids been seeing each other now?” Ramon asks when they’ve been seated at the restaurant.

“Nearly 7 months now, I think, isn’t it?” Ana replies, looking at Eddie with a dazzling smile — she truly is gorgeous. Eddie was still talking to them when he started dating her so they know she’s a schoolteacher turned vice principal but to meet her in person blows all their other expectations out of the water. She’s lively and sweet, patient and understanding, Latina — a big plus in Ramon’s books ironically. Eddie picked well this time.

Eddie hesitates a moment and nods. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Every now and again, he squirms in his chair, like he can’t quite settle in and Helena wonders when his last painkiller was taken. But when he catches her face, she smoothes her worry out into a cheeky smile that says I like this one. He smiles back and there’s nothing she can pinpoint exactly but something about it makes her uneasy.

Eddie’s too quiet as they wait for their food, his face pinched, and just when Helena’s about to break, Ana does her the favour of asking gently, “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to take anything for your arm?”

But Eddie shrugs off her concern. “No, thank you. Next one isn’t until noon.” He taps his phone twice and she smiles.

“Sorry, I forgot. He’s got them all on timers with a special ringtone. He’s so organized,” she tells Helena and Ramon with a sunny smile, rubbing her hand down his good arm. “I have one multivitamin and I forget to take it half the time.”

“Buck set it up,” Eddie defers, and Helena schools her face not to react; even at brunch Buck is with them in spirit.

Ramon either takes no issue with the mention or doesn’t register it. He takes the opportunity to share how his new pharmacy pre-packages his heart and arthritis medications into AM and PM slots and Ana listens attentively. Eddie’s fingertip taps absently against the phone case until their food arrives.

Christopher ordered a waffle, and with Eddie indisposed, Helena is already moving to help him when Ana beats her to the punch again. Helena tucks a smile away as Ana leans over and starts cutting the waffle up into smaller pieces.

“He can do that,” Eddie says when he notices Christopher sitting back in his chair, realizing only when Ana startles that his tone is sharp. His voice is softer when he follows up with, “Right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, picking up his own cutlery with enthusiasm despite his hands being nearly too small for them.

Eddie throws an apologetic grin Ana’s way and brunch continues peacefully, though the stiff line of Eddie’s shoulder never does quite soften.

Mom, listen…

————-

Their first therapy session takes place in Isabel’s kitchen at Eddie’s request. Isabel thinks it’s so he has the option of leaving when he needs to (in other words, when he gets fed up and runs) but Helena hasn’t missed how Eddie has been careful to keep them away from his home since the first day they saw him.

They’ve seen Eddie and Chris numerous times in the week and change they’ve been in LA — more than they’ve seen them since they left El Paso — but always outside of the house. Sometimes they pick Chris up from school, sometimes Eddie and Chris come to Isabel’s for supper, sometimes they go out to restaurants or other outings, but they haven’t been invited back to his home again. She wanted to believe it was because he was hiding the news that Ana had moved in but that’s been shot out of the water both by her ringing the doorbell and an errant comment at the end of brunch about how she hadn’t seen him since the welcome home party.

So it’s out of pettiness, then. Stubbornness. Out of pig-headed inability to accept that he needs help and willingness to believe that they’re making an effort to meet him on his own terms.

She tries not to let it rankle her, tries to find some of that resolute commitment to letting things be and not push. But the next thing she knows, she’s yelling about it to a stranger at Isabel’s island counter.

To be fair, the session with Dr. Jamieson wasn’t going great to begin with. It’s awkward as hell, the three of them balancing on stools, squished in next to each other to try to fit into the screen, but also trying to keep the laptop close enough to still hear her and not have to shout. It’s happening while Chris is at school so they don’t have to worry about keeping him distracted but they can’t exactly ask Isabel to go wait in the LA sun for an hour so she doesn’t overhear, so it’s basically a given that she’s the fourth person on this virtual couch from the next room over.

And beyond that, Helena has kept her mouth shut for over a week which is frankly more time than anyone would have bet on, including herself, and given the opportunity to express herself freely...well…

“You want space? We’ve given you nothing but space since we got here. How much more can we give you, Eddie? You’re hundreds of miles away from us already. Forgive us for feeling the need to check in on our only son who almost died last week,” she yells, her hand nearly colliding with her coffee mug as she gestures.

“Last week?” Ramon echoes with a bark of dark laughter.

“Oh, no, that’s right,” Helena picks up. “I’m sorry! Not a week ago! Nearly a month ago! Because apparently we don’t warrant even a text when our only son almost dies, but that’s not enough space?”

Eddie rakes his fingers aggressively through his hair, his lips pursed.

“We have to move to Mexico,” Ramon continues blithely. “Is that enough space? No, better yet! Sweden! Your family still lives out there, no? We can live on their farm. Completely different timezone, we won’t even be reachable.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, a sour grin blooming on his face, “that’s what I want. I ask you to give me some breathing room — to respect me, my life — and you translate that into living in a fucking commune in Sweden. And you wonder why we’re in therapy. I can’t talk to you, you don’t listen!”

Mom, lis—

“Listen to what, Eddie?” Helena yells, getting out of her seat to pace. “Listen to the months of silence you’ve sent our way? Because we either get on board and blindly cheer on every mess you get yourself into or we don’t get to know you anymore? Don’t get to know our grandson?”

“I never kept him from you — you have our number, the phone didn’t ring. That’s not on me.”

“Because you would have picked up?” Ramon exclaims, pushing away from the island to better look back at their son. “Easy to claim when it’s after the fact in front of the doctor.”

“So now I’m a liar! You raised a liar?”

“I think we’ve gotten off-track,” Dr. Jamieson’s tinny voice interjects from the laptop.

In the bottom right hand corner of the screen, only Eddie remains in the frame.

————

Firehouse 118 was a lively crowd at Eddie’s graduation but it’s nothing compared to the party thrown at the Grant-Nash house in honour of a new probationary firefighter.

Dr. Jamieson pointed out the self-fulfilling prophecy that Eddie protecting himself from criticism and pressure by withholding details about his life in LA was leading to his parents’ growing insecurity over not knowing anything about their son and feeling the need to intervene more and more.

The solution? Let them in on his life and trust that they could hold themselves in check.

For that, even Ramon was in agreement that maybe therapy wasn’t a load of shit after all.

So here they find themselves welcomed into this beautiful and loud home nearly three weeks into their stay in LA. They were allowed to pick Eddie and Chris up so they arrive together but Christopher peels off immediately to find kids his own age.

It’s impossible not to feel the warmth of family radiating from every inch of the home so when Eddie’s shoulders seem to loosen a little as they walk in, Helena can’t find it in herself to begrudge him.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a woman around Helena’s age drawls, crowding into Eddie’s space for a delicate hug he doesn’t hesitate to return. “Though I could have done without seeing another one of these for a few hundred more years,” she says, gesturing to the sling. “How much longer?”

“Another month if everything checks out,” Eddie says, releasing a sigh.

“It better,” she warns with a twinkle in her eye that says if she learns he’s been aggravating his injury there will be hell to pay.

The woman, they find out, is Athena Grant-Nash, wife of the 118’s captain and consummate host. While Eddie splits off “for a minute”, she leads them to the main area for drinks and introductions before leaving them to mingle. Captain Nash — Bobby — meets them with appetizers and introduces them to the Lees, the de-facto parental figures of the young man who just joined the team.

From the spot she claims at the edge of the dining room, Helena keeps an eye trained on Eddie outside. She feels an itch under her skin knowing it’s been nearly twenty minutes and Eddie hasn’t checked on Christopher, but she knows she shouldn’t go herself. Eddie can do everything on his own, right? He can look after his own kid at a party.

She can, however, go to the washroom and take a peek at what Christopher’s up to while she’s wandering, and that’s exactly what she intends to do.

But for now, she watches as Eddie criss-crosses through the crowds of the patio, prompting a localized burst of cheers at each stop as he reunites himself with teammates he hasn’t seen since the shooting. She recognizes the woman who was on the trip to Texas but the rest conjure only the vaguest memories of Eddie’s graduation and the occasional picture on Instagram — before he stopped posting that is. Just one more way they’ve been iced out.

But he seems happy, almost carefree in a way she realizes she hasn’t seen with her own eyes in...longer than this trip, actually.

Probably years, if she’s honest.

And it occurs to her, slowly, creepingly, that her son is outside, smiling freely and easily, surrounded by people he’s made his new family, while Helena stands inside watching his life through a glass window in a stranger’s house.

Mom, listen…

She swallows past the lump in her throat and sighs. Ramon’s arm comes around her waist and without looking at him, she knows he’s had a similar revelation.

Their next therapy session is in a few days, and they’re not going to fuck it up again.

There’s a late arrival to the party, one of the only people in Eddie’s life she can recognize — Buck. He’s as tall as she remembered but he looks a shade less young now maybe. He greets everyone with a hug or kiss on the cheek as he moves through the party, and bestows a cheer and an enthusiastic hug on Albert, the guest of honour.

When he moves on to the patio and approaches Eddie’s circle, however, the cheerful, long-awaited reunion of best friends she expects doesn’t happen. They catch each other’s eyes for a few beats and share a welcoming smile, then the conversation resumes as if nothing of consequence has happened. Buck doesn’t even linger long, heading back into the house after a few minutes.

When the cake starts being doled out, Eddie returns to meet them at the table and accepts the plate Helena offers him. Helena is scouting the yard for a chair he can sit on to eat when Buck reappears.

“He couldn’t be pulled away?” Eddie asks in surprise.

“Nope,” Buck replies with a grin before turning to them. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz. Good to see you again!” Before they can return more than a smile, Buck continues, “he’s cheating at Unicorn Temple with Harry. Not even cake can pull him away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “My son is not a cheater.” To them, he says, “Buck thinks that whenever he’s losing at a video game, it’s because his opponent is cheating.”

“Not always! Just when they are,” he replies with exaggerated emphasis before scooping a piece of cake onto a plate. “I’m gonna go hide this in the fridge for him for later before it’s all gone.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles down at his plate, and the questions are building up behind Helena’s teeth again.

Christopher’s been playing video games all this time? Is it an age-appropriate game? Why is Buck checking on your son? Why is Buck saving him cake when nobody asked him to? Why—

But Eddie looks up with an uncertain expression and says, “there’s a table out there if you guys want to join me.”

So Helena stows her questions and says, “that’d be great.”

They eat the overly-sweet cake in peaceful silence until Ramon casts an eye around and says, “you must be glad about the new firefighter. You won’t be the baby on the team anymore.”

Eddie snorts. “I’m 33 and my kid is nearly a teenager — and that’s totally not freaking me out at all,” he adds wryly. “Besides, I was never the baby of the team. Buck is younger than me and forever a kid at heart so I was never in any danger of it.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me that Christopher’s growing up,” Helena only half-jokes. “I can still barely believe he’s old enough to hold his own head up.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and Helena banks it as a win.

“Do any of your coworkers have teenagers?” Ramon asks. “Might have some words of wisdom to share.” Since you won’t ask us, is unspoken and politely ignored by all.

“Athena’s daughter May is just leaving the teen years now, but after her, Christopher’s the oldest. Harry, Athena’s son is 9 and Denny, Hen and Karen’s son just turned 8. It’s great for play dates but not for getting advice on what’s coming up unfortunately.”

“Karen,” Ramon echoes.

Eddie’s fork pauses on its way to scoop some excess icing off his cake and his back straightens.

“Hen’s wife,” he says curtly, daring.

Helena wants to roll her eyes at the posturing. It’s 2021, who cares who anybody loves. She knows Ramon doesn’t, not really, not anymore. It’s a 50-year-long reflex to make a comment, one they’ve been working, if only to have some semblance of a civil conversation with Sophia while she works through a degree in women and gender studies.

But she knows that excuse isn’t going to fly with Eddie.

It hasn’t flown since Eddie was 20 years old and realizing he’d lost a good friend to his father’s caustic words. And Helena can’t ever go back and examine the hurt in Eddie’s expression with fresh eyes. Shemanages to forget about it most of the time until something happens to dig it out of the cold, hard ground and shove it in her arms.

Mom, listen...

But she’s come to LA because she wants to be in her son’s life, in her grandson’s life and she can’t be a coward now.

“They’re a gorgeous couple,” she says, almost too loudly in her enthusiasm. “Are they thinking of having more kids?”

Eddie turns his assessing eyes to her and is mollified by her effort. “Yeah, they’re foster parents now. They’ve fostered three kids so far.”

“That’s great,” she says sincerely. Then, accidentally on purpose and only in part to bring Ramon back to a safe topic, she asks, “Does Ana want a large family?”

Eddie sees through her attempt, but nods. “Yeah, she loves kids.”

Helena doesn’t miss Ramon’s approving nod, or the dark look that passes over Eddie’s eyes when he catches it.

“Was Ana not able to come tonight?” Ramon asks.

“I didn’t ask her,” he answers, his voice a shade too casual. “This is more of a team thing.” As if they hadn’t just been discussing the other families all around them.

“That Ana—” Ramon begins but is interrupted by the arrival of Christopher with a hint of blue icing on his nose and Buck following behind him with two paper plates filled with cake.

Christopher sits backwards on the picnic table bench and uses his arms to lift his legs over while Eddie watches but doesn’t offer to help, and when Christopher is set, Buck places one of the plates in front of him with a plastic fork stuck in the top like a flag.

“Buck was finally able to pull you away, mijo?” Eddie asks as Christopher digs in.

“No, May took her room back so we can’t play on her tv anymore. Harry’s gonna ask his mom if we can play in her room.”

“Yeah...” Buck draws out, sharing a dubious expression with Eddie over Christopher’s head, “I wouldn’t hold out for that, bud.”

“Maybe you can teach the others how to play Scrabble!” Eddie suggests.

Christopher’s nose wrinkles, “Scrabble is boring.”

“Hey!” Buck protests and takes a forkful of Christopher’s cake in retaliation, which prompts Christopher to yell and attack Buck’s cake back, taking much more than a forkful.

The commotion draws attention to their table and Helena’s gearing up to tell Christopher to settle down when she catches Eddie’s eyes on her, waiting.

Helena looks back out to the backyard to say, People are staring.

Eddie looks back impassively as if to say, Let them.

Mom, listen...

Helena swallows her impatience, her anxiety, her embarrassment.

“Hey,” Buck calls, his mouth half full of icing, “did you take your 6?”

Eddie hesitates and that’s enough for Buck to swallow and look put out, already turning and lifting a leg out of the confines of the picnic table.

“Did you turn off your alarm again?”

“I didn’t turn it off the first time, I don’t know what happened.”

“What happened is it woke you up at 6am and you turned it off because sleepy Eddie makes bad life choices.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You don’t have —”

“Right pocket?” Buck interjects, already walking away.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

Christopher looks at him and shakes his head with exaggerated disappointment.

“Don’t you start,” Eddie warns, scooping a fingertip of icing and dabbing it on his son’s nose too quickly for him to duck.

Christopher shrieks and reaches for his cake fingers-first.

“Oh no, no,” Eddie laughs, catching Christopher’s fingers with one hand. “Truce, truce.”

Christopher doesn’t look interested in a truce and Eddie’s other arm is in a sling, so Ramon quickly pulls the cake out of Christopher’s reach, and then Buck’s abandoned piece and Helena does the same with Eddie’s.

“Not fair!” Christopher cries, still reaching.

“Your dad’s hurt, mijo, you can’t attack him with icing while he’s healing,” Ramon says reasonably. “Wait till he’s all better.”

“He’s fine!” Christopher declares with the confidence of a trauma surgeon as he tries to climb up on the bench.

Eddie’s not in a position to pull him back down and Helena doesn’t know how far they can take their non-interference but she’s not about to let her grandson hop over a table to fall into three plates of cake. She’s half-decided she’s going to pick up the cake and walk it back inside when Buck returns, depositing a glass of water on the table and a small white pill into Eddie’s palm before swooping in and tickling Christopher’s sides.

He shrieks loudly, gaining looks from all around the backyard, but it gets his butt back down on the bench and Buck sits back down next to him, boxing him in between himself and Eddie.

“What happened to our cake? How’d it get all the way over there?” The plates are very easily within Buck’s reach; it’s a question for Christopher’s benefit.

“Dad got me like you did!” Christopher cries indignantly, pointing to his nose. “I’m getting him back!”

“Oh man,” Buck nods seriously before his finger darts forward, swipes the icing from his nose and brings it to his mouth. “Mmm, this is better than the one I got you with. You sure you don’t just wanna eat it?”

Christopher looks unconvinced.

“How about this?” Buck ducks down to whisper loudly. “You call a truce with your dad, and then I’ll steal all his icing and we’ll eat it.”

The icing on Eddie’s cake is mostly piled in a corner of his paper plate. He’s never been able to stomach the pure sugary sweetness of store bought icing.

“Okay,” Christopher nods back, reaching out again for his plate but without making grabby hands.

Ramon assesses him for a moment before taking the chance to push the plates back within reach.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck calls deliberately. “You should take your medication now.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie replies with a smile that conveys an eyeroll. “I’ll do that now.”

While Eddie pops the pill and takes a very long drink of water, Buck “sneakily” pulls his plate towards them and scoops all the piled icing onto his own plate before pushing the cake back to Eddie’s side of the table.

Christopher laughs and pushes Eddie’s plate an extra few inches away out of spite.

Eddie plays the disappointed victim passably well with a half-hearted gasp and a shake of his head. “You little thieves.”

As promised, Buck doles out some of Eddie’s icing to Christopher who immediately protests at the amount left on Buck’s plate.

“Hey, when you’re a big guy like me, you get more icing. Keep eating your proteins and you’ll get there in no time.”

Christopher accepts that easily enough. “I’m gonna be tall like dad.”

Buck scoffs, “Aim higher, kid. Literally.”

“I am barely two inches shorter than you,” Eddie laments, not for the first time, it sounds like.

“It’s practically three. Are you really going to lie in front of your parents?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, is on Helena’s tongue because it’s been hours since she could speak her mind, but she holds it in.

“How was the trip from Texas?” Buck asks them suddenly, bringing them back into the fold of a scene they'd never left but somehow stopped being a part of. “Flights have new restrictions on them now, don’t they?”

Mom, listen...

When the party is winding down and they walk outside to the driveway, Eddie surprises them by offering them both a hug.

“Thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, though Helena hears the underlying “and behaving” and can’t help but bristle.

“Thank you for inviting us, mijo,” Ramon says; his turn to save Helena from herself.

And when Eddie lets them know he and Chris will be getting their ride back from Buck, Ramon takes Helena’s hand and they smile almost sincerely as they say their goodnights.

—————-

The next week happens to be Isabel’s 80th birthday and Helena and Ramon keep themselves busy by helping to throw a party that will reunite every vaccinated member of the family in the area (they’re not about to take a chance on Isabel’s health).

Things have been getting better with Eddie. They had a second therapy session, again at Isabel’s island counter, where they lasted a good 25 minutes before devolving into yelling. The next day, Eddie asked Ramon for a ride to physical therapy, and easily accepted his father’s offer of lunch after the appointment.

Then, when Helena asked if she could pick up some groceries for him and Christopher, she was refused — in no small part, she thinks, because he still won’t let them in his house — but instead of going off on him, she channeled that anger and resentment into nearly buying out Costco for Isabel’s party. It felt like progress Dr. Jamieson would be proud of.

That’s why, despite the party officially kicking off around 11am, they’re just past supper time and all tables and counters are still nearly buckling under the weight of the food. They’ll have to send everyone home with leftovers if the flow of people stops. Isabel’s front door has been a turnstile since this morning and Helena knows from experience it’ll likely stay that way until the late hours of the night. Most recently, Helena’s daughters made their appearance, and it’s not at all the reason Helena is back in the kitchen.

Despite coming from opposite ends with different travel distances, Adriana and Sophia arrived within a half hour of each other, a move Helena saw through instantly. The idea that her children coordinated to arrive together instead of risking the possibility of facing their parents alone sets a fire raging in her heart, and she realizes suddenly that she isn’t prepared to be hypervigilant of her every word with all three of her kids here now to push her buttons.

So, she retreats to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect one of them to follow her in.

“I heard you guys were doing therapy,” Adriana volleys as she approaches.

Helena cracks open the tray of chocolate chip cookies and starts plating them, her face angled down so any kneejerk expression of distaste isn’t as visible. “Apparently, that’s what the cool kids do nowadays.”

“It is,” Adriana agrees, the bangles on her wrists clinking on the countertop as she reaches for the box of oatmeal cookies to plate. She’s a year into her Master’s in communication. What she intends to do with that is a mystery to them. So much of their kids’ lives are a mystery now. Helena closes the lid of the cookie tray hard and relishes in the snap of the plastic groove into the tongue.

“Paying a stranger to tell us when and how to talk to each other is cool,” she bites. It’s not posed as a question, just a bitter acknowledgement.

Adriana is quiet and Helena starts plating mini quiches onto the cookie platter just to stay occupied while her daughter walks away. Sophia is a yeller, she stands her ground and gives as good as she gets. Adriana, however, is a runner, just like Eddie.

But Adriana doesn’t leave in a huff. She turns to the counter and grabs a second platter, moving the mini quiches onto that one.

“It’s cool that you’re open to trying,” she says. “I think that, in any family where there’s love, there’s going to be hurt. And the longer we stay stuck in that hurt, the harder it becomes to talk about it without causing more. We get stuck in patterns that we can’t break out of, and people on the outside can be the best ones to point out those patterns and help you break out of them to get to what you actually, truly want to say.”

Helena knows what she actually, truly wants to say. That’s not the problem. The problem is that none of her kids want to hear it.

“I see a therapist,” Adriana continues. Helena stills and looks at her daughter, calmly arranging the mini quiches into concentric circles. “Since my last year of undergrad. When things got really hard and I couldn’t understand why. They helped me. A lot. Helped me figure out what was wrong and how to get myself through it.”

“You didn’t tell us,” Helena says, her voice thick.

“I know,” her daughter replies simply. “I didn’t know how. I’m telling you now because what I actually, truly want to say is that I’m proud of you and dad for doing this. And maybe if you don’t hate it...maybe we could try a session later too.”

There’s an offer in her daughter’s words, an open hand reaching out. But in that hand, Helena sees her failures as a parent, the judgement of the world for failing her kids, and she doesn’t want to reach her own hand out.

Mom, listen…

Helena looks at her eldest daughter, almost a stranger to her, with an entire life Helena is only starting to realize she has no part in. It hurts — it always hurts when the kids pull away but to realize she didn’t even know the extent of it...she wants to hurt back.

Mom, listen…

But she’s trying so hard to break those patterns Adriana speaks of. So instead, Helena thinks of the therapist’s advice leading them into a piece of Eddie’s life they wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to see and swallows past the indignation in her throat to reach down and find the words she actually, truly wants to say.

“You say when, and I’ll be there.”

———-

The sun is setting when Helena finally agrees to get off her feet and just enjoy the party outside while the cousins take over the serving and cleaning. There are four generations of Diazes gathered around but for the first time ever, most of the cousins are young adults, not teenagers, and it’s nice to be able to pass on the hosting responsibilities to them for a bit.

The sky is clear, the sunset resplendent from Isabel’s backyard, and the conversation is flowing easily. It’s a beautiful evening, warm with a gentle breeze cool enough to let her lean back against Ramon in his lounge chair, one of his arms wrapped loosely around her hip.

For the first time since getting Isabel’s text, Helena feels something like peace wash over her and she almost feels bad for the thrum of vindication in her stomach when she spots Eddie slumped comfortably in an armchair, his legs propped up on another chair.

He’s at home here.

Yes, he was at ease at his captain’s house but this is family, this is where he can really sink into the love and comfort and rest. With his aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters around to take care of him. And Christopher, who spent the afternoon running around and chomping down on all the sugar he could get his hands on, slumped against him, nearly asleep. This is family.

She knows he could find that peace back in El Paso, they both could. Eddie had friends there, and his parents, who knew his son better than he did for most of his life. And there are fires in El Paso same as there are in LA, but less smog, less general insanity.

But Eddie’s a lot like his parents, too much like them maybe, and once he’s decided on a course of action he can’t be swayed. So Helena has made peace with it. Rather, she’s made peace with pretending to be okay with it while she waits for him to come to the realization that he should move back.

And in the meantime, if they can mend this thorniness between them, then maybe she and Ramon can make more of these impromptu trips. Maybe even convince Eddie to come home for Christmas this year. At the very least, go back to regular video chats.

But all that ruminating feels far away right now. She’s moving gently with the rise and fall of Ramon’s chest, and she’s so close to slipping away to the feeling of contentment when a new arrival makes her open eyes she didn’t realize she’d closed.

“Feliz cumpleanos,” she hears someone say in half-decent Spanish from the front door on the other side of the side yard fence.

She doesn’t recognize the voice as yet another cousin or uncle, but Eddie shakes Christopher’s shoulder gently, and says, “hey, guess who’s here.”

It takes a moment, but the words penetrate Christopher’s sleepiness. His eyes pop open and he shimmies out of Eddie’s lap and into his crutches to power walk over to the gate just in time for it to open, admitting Isabel, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and a sheepish looking Buck behind her.

“Buck!” Christopher yells.

Buck’s smile widens and he immediately opens his arms. “Hey, superman!”

Buck crouches down and Christopher throws his arms around his neck, crutches and all. When it’s time to break apart, Christopher’s still hanging on and Helena feels a stab of dark vindication at what’s about to happen, and the look Ramon sends her way tells her she’s not alone. Because Christopher is now officially in the double digits, and while he’s always been an independent kid, becoming 10 years old was a big deal for him and his perceived level of maturity, and apparently the year he decided no one was allowed to carry him anymore.

And now Christopher’s tired and in the grip of a powerful sugar crash. He’s not going to suffer any indignities, and Helena knows she should feel bad about not trying to stop Buck. About just watching this play out to see him be rejected. But she wasn’t expecting to see him here, in this safe haven of Isabel’s backyard, in this space for family and loved ones, and it rankles her. It feels like everywhere she turns in LA, she finds him there. And his being here is just another nail in the coffin of Eddie stubbornly refusing to let his parents back into his home. That he would call his friend to this party just to avoid letting them give him a ride…

So she’s a little bitter, a little resentful of the persistent, low-key rejection. Sue her. Eddie has made it clear he doesn’t want them interfering anyway so this is on him.

“Christopher,” Eddie calls, a warning to not make a scene.

Buck looks over Christopher’s shoulder and smiles. “He’s fine,” he says.

Then he’s heaving Christopher’s body up into his arms and onto his hip and Christopher…

...Christopher slumps down over Buck’s shoulder like a baby koala. No sound of protest leaves his lips. His face, if it shows any displeasure, is hidden behind Buck’s neck.

And when Eddie gets up, it’s not to intercede, it’s only to grab the errant crutches before they hit something, and to pull his own armless chair out for Buck to sit on because apparently Buck is staying, and apparently Christopher is staying with him.

“He’s a bit old to be carried around, no?” Ramon says with a bite, because he can’t help himself.

Eddie, who’s been watching his son fondly, barely bats an eye. “He gets cuddly when he’s tired, and Buck’s nearly the only one left who’s big enough to carry him.”

“Ah, that’s why you spend so much time developing these,” Pepa says with a sly smile as she pinches at Buck’s bicep. The same familiar pinch she gave her own grandkids’ cheeks.

“Gracias a Dios,” Isabel adds meaningfully.

“That was adrenaline,” Eddie dismisses with a teasing grin.

“That was 100 squats and 50 pushups a day,” Buck returns blithely. “...and maybe a little adrenaline.”

“What’s this?” Ramon asks before she can.

Instead of prompting more teasing, the mood falls slightly and everyone looks to each other.

Finally, Eddie sighs. “When I got shot, Buck army crawled under a ladder truck to get me out and lifted me into the truck to get to the hospital.”

It strikes Helena suddenly, shamefully, that in the shock of finding out they’d missed the event itself, the hospital stay, and two entire weeks of healing, that they’d never circled back around for details on what actually went down the day it happened.

She never thought to wonder how he got off that street. How he got to the hospital. Who might have saved his life.

And she wishes she were a better person then. Wishes that learning Buck saved her son’s life overpowered her irritation at having him sitting here in Isabel’s backyard like he belonged here when Helena herself barely felt like she did herself. It does help, though.

“They released the street footage of the shooting,” Pepa continues quietly. “It’s on YouTube. Before I even knew it happened, Marguerita from church just sent me a link saying ‘they said it’s a Diaz, do you know him?’ and I saw.”

The idea of her son’s shooting being passed around like a cat video makes Helena sick, but Pepa lamenting how she hadn’t known when she learned about it in a matter of hours and sat on it for weeks…

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Pepa says decisively. “But they have an angle where you can see our Buck here go and get Eddie, pick him up like he doesn’t weigh a thing and get him into the truck to get to the hospital. Probably why he’s alive today. So gracias a Dios for those squats.”

Eddie and Buck are both looking away, both looking safely at Christopher while the table digests the news.

“If you were looking for a story of something really dumb, I can point you in the direction of another video of Buck,” Eddie says, his tone jovial but his eyes strained.

“You need to let that go,” Buck says in a definite whine.

“Do I?” Eddie asks. “Abuela did you see the video of the firefighter who went up the crane all alone?”

“Dios mío, Buck,” Pepa laments.

“Did you send it to me?” Abuela asks her, pulling out her phone and her glasses to check.

“No, mamá, it was an idiot firefighter but I didn’t realize it was the one we knew.”

“In the middle of an all-out declaration of war on firefighters,” Eddie begins, quietly for Christopher’s sake, but impassioned, sitting up in his chair, “this idiota and his squat count climbed up a crane ladder, completely exposed and defenseless—”

Buck looks pained. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet. And that’s the job sometimes—”

“The paramedics’ job, actually, which you aren’t. So, no, that wasn’t the job.” Eddie’s tone edges into something darker without his meaning to. He takes a drink of his lemonade looking for all the world like he wished it was a beer. “And you know that or I wouldn’t have found out about it from Chim a month after the fact.”

Helena clenches her jaw tight and squeezes Ramon’s hand even tighter so neither of them can say, So you have a problem being left in the dark too?

“Buck,” Isabel sighs with disappointment.

Buck winces. “It was before— ” He cuts himself off, his wide eyes darting towards Helena and Ramon of all people.

“Hmm,” Isabel answers noncommittally, as if to end the conversation.

Just then, Sophia brings out a platter of bite-sized desserts, making the rounds of the whole circle for people to pick at before leaving it on the table. The opportunity to move on is there. That doesn’t mean they’re interested in taking it.

“Before what?” Ramon asks, his tone is forcibly casual.

The silence that greets Ramon’s question is heavy. Guilty. When Helena casts her eyes around, she’s greeted by stiff shoulders and a mix of apprehension shared between her son, her mother- and sister-in-law, and Buck.

Mom, listen...

“Before what?” Helena repeats, her voice uncompromising.

———-

The fight they have in Isabel’s guest bedroom is a Hall of Famer. It’s a screaming match, no doubt about it. The doors from the bedroom to the yard are all closed but there’s no question every member of the family — and Buck — can hear every word.

“Do you really hate us that much?” Helena demands. She’s crying but she doesn’t know if it’s heartbreak or fury, she just wishes it’d stop so she could lean into her anger. “Genuinely, honestly, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests, keeping his own voice down, making it seem like they’re irrational for their anger.

“Bullshit,” she spits.

“You must!” Ramon adds. “You hate us so much that you have to hate your sisters too? Your cousins? You would rather leave your only son to a stranger, some gringo coworker, than with family? That’s how much you hate us? Hate our name?”

“Our name?” Eddie shoots back incredulously. “What are you talking about, our name? We’re not royalty, papi, and Chris’ name would never change.”

“You would leave him to your coworker,” Helena stresses, disgust dripping from her tongue.

“To my best friend,” Eddie retorts, “who Christopher adores, if you haven’t noticed. And who adores Christopher right back.”

“That’s not normal, mijo,” Ramon warns.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie seethes. “Please do not star—”

“What kind of single adult man bonds with another man’s child like that?”

“You’re describing a tío, you understand that right? What, you think it’s weird that Pepa loves me like her own? You think Sophia should stay away from Chris too?”

“That’s family,” Helena argues.

“And they’re women!”

“Ramon, shut up,” Helena snaps.

“Buck is our family, and he’s a man, and he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. If anything happened to me, Christopher would be taken care of like if I was still here.”

“Buck, the one who nearly got him killed in the tsunami? That’s the same guy right?” Ramon throws out, his eyes a little wild as he paces.

“The one who saved his life in that tsunami, despite being injured and then some. And the one who’s saved my life more times than I can count, including from being gunned down on the street. We’d both probably be dead if not f— ”

“Isn’t he the one who’s family is worse off than ours?” Helena recalls. “So he has no family, no support, no girlfriend even! So a worse position than you’re in now. That’s what you want to leave him with.”

“He doesn’t need a girlfriend to raise Christopher right, I don’t! And he has a great sister, he has the 118, he has Carla, and he has our family. You think Abuela and Pepa would shut the door on him? He’d be here every Sunday, with Christopher, just like I am.”

“And what does your girlfriend think of this?” Ramon presses. “The vice principal, she thinks this is normal?”

“Ana doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Eddie says, frowning.

Helena balks. “You think the woman you’ve been seeing seriously for nearly a year has nothing to do with long-term decisions about your son? You think maybe she wouldn’t want the option of taking Christopher in if something happened to you?”

“That’s not happening, he’s going to Buck and that’s final.”

“What’s going on with you and this gringo?” Ramon asks suspiciously. “Are you even going out with Ana or was that another lie?”

“Ramon, don’t go there,” Helena sighs, her heart clenching. That’s all they need in this clusterfuck, that layer of pain.

“No, let’s go there because you know what?” Eddie asks darkly. “There is no one on this planet I trust with my son more than Buck and yeah, if we need to lay it all out there, that includes the two of you. I know you love Christopher, just like I know Shannon loved him, but that’s not always going to be enough. Buck isn’t going to fill my son’s head with ideas about the wrong kind of way to love someone. He’s not going to tell him he’s not good enough for his family to love him or support him. Buck’s going to make sure Christopher grows up to follow his heart and find whatever makes him happiest in the world, no matter what that looks like.”

“How could you think—”

“What if he grows up to be gay?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring his father down. “You’re telling me you’re going to be the one to help him pick out a suit to go to prom with his boyfriend?”

Ramon purses his lips but tries, “it’s a different world now,” as if he hadn’t just tried to make crass insinuations just to hurt his son.

“Okay,” Eddie says, not believing him for a moment, “what if he’s trans? Tells you at 15 that he’s a girl and he wants to transition. You’re going to get him on hormone therapy?”

“Eddie that’s not—”

“What if he’s 20 and he tells you he got a girl pregnant by accident and he doesn’t know her enough to love her, and he’s not ready to be a father let alone a husband?”

Helena tries to speak but her throat is suddenly too tight for words to get out.

“You gonna tell him he’s not a man if he doesn’t marry her anyway?”

Ramon says nothing.

“Christopher is going to Buck, and that’s final.”

——————-

Helena and Ramon don’t show up for the third therapy session.

Their plane tickets were only for three weeks, originally, and as the days run out, they don’t talk about extensions.

———-

Helena is sitting out in Isabel’s backyard, trying to conjure up that feeling of serenity she got to bask in for all of two minutes the night of the birthday party.

It’s not working.

They’re going back to El Paso tomorrow, leaving their relationship with Eddie in worse straits than when they arrived.

There’s always been a tension between them and Eddie, but there’s also always been love and respect, and that love and respect formed a polite barrier around the things they couldn’t talk about. It kept their relationship safe. Kept them from getting too close to real honesty where things hurt in ways that couldn’t be walked back.

It feels now like that barrier has fallen. That Eddie’s finally reached the limit of what he could hold back and now there’s nothing to help them pretend everything is okay. Nothing to help Helena believe this is all something that could blow over.

That’s to say nothing of Christopher, who’s never felt as far away as he does now, even while they linger in the same city, only a couple dozen blocks away.

Helena scrolls listlessly through her phone’s camera roll for the last few weeks. There are pictures of Christopher mostly, but Eddie and the rest of the family are there too. It hurts to notice how Eddie is markedly happier in the shots where he’s looking away from the camera. Away from her.

Mom, listen…

Helena opens up Instagram and lets herself forget for a moment that anything is wrong. On Instagram, there is only joy and fun. And Buck.

Eddie hasn’t posted anything to his account in months but starting from the end and working backwards, Buck features heavily. He’s in at least a third of the pictures, usually with Christopher. One of the posts includes a short video that she watches. It’s of the day they unveiled the adapted skateboard, and it nourishes her soul. There’s no sadness here, or tension, only pure radiating happiness and excitement. It’s magical.

And it’s meaningful.

Mom, listen…

Helena is out of her chair and pocketing Isabel’s car keys before she can talk herself out of it. The drive to Eddie’s house is made with a carefully blank mind. She knows if she lets herself think about what she’s going to say, she’s going to spiral and get to a place where all this fear and sadness turn dark and ugly, and she can’t afford to risk it.

Finally, she’s knocking gently on a front door she’s only seen three times in the weeks she’s been here.

Buck answers the door.

————-

The house is quiet when Helena steps in.

She doesn’t bother taking her shoes off this time, she’s not sure how long she’ll be allowed to stay. But she notices that the space where her shoes would have gone is taken up by a pair of large boots she imagines fit perfectly on Buck’s feet.

Buck disappears into the living room and she follows quietly after him. The lights are off but the muted tv glows brightly enough for her to see Eddie reclined on his back on the couch, sleeping, and Buck sitting down on the edge of the coffee table to shake his arm.

Eddie’s always been a light sleeper, especially after the army and Christopher. He doesn’t wake easily now.

He’s wearing the sling, but it’s the only indication that anything is amiss with him. There’s no sign of pain or worry on his face, no tension in his shoulders. He’s practically melted into the recesses of the couch. He’s a picture of comfort. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s in his home, away from family, from expectations, and judgements. Just him and Christopher. And Buck.

Eddie finally takes a deep breath that shows his body is coming around but his eyes stay closed. Buck is murmuring something but she only catches, “ — mom — here.”

Then, at last, Eddie’s eyelids part, and the deep laxness of his body disappears almost in the blink of an eye.

“What?” he croaks, already trying to sit up.

Buck’s hands are already moving to support his back.

“ — says she wants to apologize.”

Eddie scoffs and sits upright, feet firmly planted on the floor as he blinks himself awake.

“Mom?”

“I’m here,” she says, stepping closer into the light of the tv.

Buck catches Eddie’s eye and they have an entire conversation in five silent seconds that ends with Buck nodding and getting up from the table, watching Helena warily as she approaches further.

“Watch your eyes,” Buck says quietly to Eddie before flipping the wall switch and illuminating the room. He lingers for a moment, clearly undecided about leaving, before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Finally, Helena is alone with her son in his home. The quiet is almost peaceful, she doesn’t want to break it. Eddie does instead.

“Buck said you wanted to apologize, so I’m assuming he misheard,” Eddie says wryly.

There are pillow creases on the side of his face and Helena can’t remember the last time she saw him look so disheveled, so at home. It makes her heart ache for the days when she’d have to force him out of bed at noon on weekends, drive him to wrestling practice early in the morning, watch over him as he slept sometimes, just to make sure he was okay.

“Shockingly, no,” she smiles sadly.

Eddie blinks up at her for a moment before shifting down on the couch, leaving her some room to sit. She takes the invitation, but once she’s sitting down with Eddie’s full attention on her, she realizes not preparing what she wanted to say might have been a mistake. She has no idea where to begin. What scab to pick at that won’t cause more bleeding.

Then she remembers Adriana’s words.

What is it, under all the posturing, all the hurt feelings, all the history and baggage...what is it she actually, truly wants to say?

“I’m sorry I missed therapy.”

Eddie huffs a surprised laugh. “Of all the things…”

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “But I am. I…” She forces herself to slow down and consider her words. “I realize that therapy was an olive branch for you. One we took way too late and I’m...I’m just so fucking grateful we were able to take it at all, in the end.”

The tears are coming and there’s nothing she can do to stop them. They gather in the corner of her eyes and she tries to blink them away but has to settle for wiping away the ones that fall anyway.

“You were right,” she says. “You said — and your sister said, and the therapist said — that there’s a lot of hurt, and it’s become too hard to...to connect with each other because of it. And therapy is probably the only bridge through that. So even though I was pissed at you, I should have showed up.”

She hazards a look up at Eddie to find his brown eyes wide and cautiously wondering.

“Therapy is what’s going to help us and the only way to fail at it is to not show up.” It’s what the therapist had said in their first session. It had sounded like an easy thing to do then. “And that’s not okay. I’m not going to do that again.”

Eddie nods and looks away. His fingernails are flicking nervously against each other — a habit he picked up from her. “Is dad on the same page as you?”

Helena takes a deep breath, and blows out, “No, your dad is looking for a match to light the page on fire.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but there’s heavy hurt behind the indifference.

“I hid all of them,” Helena offers, “and left Abuela with the fire extinguisher.”

That gets a small smile.

“I really expected you to be more pissed about it than him,” Eddie says, he reclines against the arm of the sofa but no part of him looks comfortable with this conversation.

“Oh, I am—” The rage swells up in her. The outrage and indignation. But again, Adriana’s voice comes to her. “I...am...really, truly hurt, Eddie. I feel...I feel like you told me I’m not good enough to love Christopher how he needs.”

Eddie’s face collapses with disbelief. “You mean the way you’ve been making me feel since he was born? Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Since the moment Shannon got pregnant, you’ve both been hammering it in on us that we’d never be enough, we’d never be good enough for him. Why do you think I joined the army? Why do you think Shannon ran?”

The accusation makes her breathless, it makes that familiar rage bubble up closer to the surface. “Shannon made her own choices, you’re not going to pin that on us. And so did you.”

“No, I can’t pin that on you. She did choose to leave,” he concedes, his voice hardening. “But you spent five years telling her over and over that nothing she ever did was good enough, and when I got back you did the same to me! ‘Don’t drag him down with you.’ Does that ring any bells?”

“I spent five years helping her, being a second parent to Christopher when she was in over her head. She needed help. She wasn’t cut out—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Eddie agrees. “Neither of us were. We were stupid fucking kids who barely knew each other. She was supposed to get back on a plane to California when the semester was done and instead we got married in the backyard because you told us that’s what we had to do.”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. You want to blame me for Christopher being born? For raising him in a family with two parents?”

“You’re not listening,” Eddie spits.

“I’m listening to you say over and over how I ruined your life because I didn’t let Shannon get an abortion. And that’s somehow the reason to keep us out of Christopher’s life now?”

“No, you’re not—” Eddie closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. “I love Christopher with everything I am. If I had the chance to go back and do everything differently, I wouldn’t. I would never. Being his father is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I was a kid in over my head and my parents didn’t know what was best for me. Didn’t know how to help me. And I figured that out on my own, I grew up and became the man I am now on my own.” She wants to argue but he’s on a roll. “And that’s fine, no parent is perfect. I know I’m going to make mistakes and I hope to god Christopher can forgive me, so I need to forgive you yours. But I need you to see me, now. I need you to look at me and realize I’m not that kid you put in a suit in the backyard. I’m not the kid that signed up to get shot at instead of facing his life. I’m not that kid anymore, mom. I’m not.”

“I see that, Eddie.”

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t constantly be telling me I need to move back to El Paso to take proper care of Christopher. You’d see that our lives are here now. I have a job I love and pays what we need. Christopher loves his school, his friends. He’s a popular, genius kid. He’s happy. I’m happy. And we’re doing good. But you don’t see that. You see that dumbass, scared kid making his next mistakes. And I’m sorry but I’m not going to let you drag me back into that spiral. If you need to be the parent to that kid, I can’t be the kid you’re parenting. I’ve grown up, mom.”

“So,” Helena clears her throat, hoping the waver in it will clear too. “That’s what the guardianship is? We...lost sight of you growing up. We didn’t give you what you needed. So you’re punishing us?”

Eddie sighs as if she didn’t understand.

“No, you know what? No, I’m sorry,” she switches tracks, her voice hard, “how are we supposed to see this new person you’ve become, Eddie? You left El Paso, left us behind, you won’t come home for holidays, you even stopped posting on Instagram, and when we come here to see you’re alive you won’t even let us into your home. So how? How are we supposed to see this magical transformation when you won’t let us in?”

Eddie watches her for a moment, weighing his words. “You show up for therapy.”

And that takes the wind out of her sails.

That’s what she came here for.

To apologize.

Not keep yelling.

Mom, listen…

Helena takes two deep breaths and crooks a smile. “Yeah.”

“You yell a lot.”

Christopher’s voice startles them both, pulling a short grunt of pain from Eddie as his shoulder jerks back. Christopher is leaning against the wall into the living room, wearing the disgruntled pout of someone who was woken up for no good reason.

“Christopher…” Eddie begins, trying to leverage himself off the couch.

Helena pushes him back down, and turns to Christopher, opening her arms.

“I do,” Helena admits softly, as Christopher comes over and leans into her side. “I do yell a lot. I’m...trying to yell less.”

“Dad never yells.”

Eddie smiles tiredly.

“Hmm,” Helena agrees, “I think there’s a lot of things I need to learn from your daddy.”

Christopher nods, his eyes drooping. “He’s the best,” he says, snuggling into her shoulder. She’s getting on a plane tomorrow so she takes the opportunity to relish in this hug, and press a long kiss on his curls.

“Ah, I thought I heard an escape artist on the prowl,” Buck says as he turns the corner.

“We woke him up,” Eddie says redundantly. “We’ll keep it quiet now, buddy.”

“K,” Christopher mumbles.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to bed” Buck says quietly as he leans over to carefully scoop him into his arms. Christopher’s arms loop around his neck like he’s done it a million times, and his head falls to Buck’s shoulder.

“Buck’s the best too,” Christopher mumbles.

Buck’s ducks his face away.

“That’s what I hear,” Helena allows in a tone she hopes is gracious.

As they leave, they can hear Christopher say, “they stole your bed.”

Buck responds but it’s too quiet for them to follow the rest of the conversation.

Eddie ducks his head and sighs.

“That’s why you were keeping us away?” Helena asks, her voice more gentle than she thought she could muster at this point. “Because Buck’s crashing on your couch?”

Now that she’s looking, she spots the folded duvet stacked on the chair in the corner, the pillows tucked neatly below. It only makes her more aware that she found Eddie sleeping soundly on the very same couch.

“I didn’t — I didn’t want questions. I didn’t want dad’s look, the same look he has every time Buck comes up. The same look—” Eddie sighs harshly. “I didn’t feel like fielding questions. He was here for Christopher when I was in the hospital and when I came home… He helps. A lot.”

Helena nods pensively, and surprises herself by finding a kernel of gratitude towards Buck burgeoning in her chest.

“So, speaking of fucking up as parents,” she begins with a crooked smile that fades by the end of the phrase. She doesn’t know how to finish that sentence so she starts a new one. “The...hurt that piles up, that makes it hard to talk through...does some of it come from Matty?”

She can see an instinct flare up in her son to shake his head and dismiss the topic, but he doesn’t let it take hold. It’s time to face this.

“It didn’t help,” he admits.

Eddie and Matty met in sixth grade and became best friends almost instantly. They spent weekends in sleepovers, fought off other classmates to be each others’ group project partners, and spent every summer going to the same camps. Matty was an honorary Diaz before they even hit their teens.

Five years later, Matty came out to his family, and then to theirs. His parents took it well, Eddie’s parents didn’t.

The sleepovers stopped, the summer camps stopped, and if Ramon could have sent Eddie to another class he would have.

The day he came out to them was the last day he stepped foot in the Diaz home, a natural consequence of Ramon having run him out with caustic, angry words.

“We…” Helena licks her lips and looks away to gather her thoughts. “There’s a lot of reasons we reacted the way we did. Ignorance, more than anything. It really was a different world back then. But...the world has kept turning, things have kept changing and we can’t pretend to be ignorant anymore.” She looks Eddie in the eye to say, “we were wrong. We were wrong to chase him away. And if the day comes that Christopher is gay or trans or any of the other words we haven’t learned yet, we’re going to love him just as much as we do now.”

Eddie keeps her gaze for a moment before nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.” The way his shoulders gather near his ears says he doesn’t believe her though he’s trying.

Because when Eddie and Matty stood shoulder to shoulder to tell Ramon and Helena the news, Matty wasn’t the only one crushed. And they know, somewhere deep down, that their reaction was as extreme as it was because they were never fully sure if the hurt in Eddie’s eyes was on behalf of his best friend, or if they exploded before more news could be told.

And it still scares Helena to this day, to this very moment sitting on her son’s couch. It’s why they welcomed Shannon at first, the first girl Eddie really brought home, even though they didn’t approve of her overall.

But she knows now that there’s nothing anymore, not her pride, not her ignorance, that will stop her from trying to bridge the gap between them. So she continues deliberately, “and if this new, grown up version of you comes with any of those words, we’re not going to love you any less either.”

His eyes widen and for a moment she’s looking at her 17 year old son in the living room, eyes wide as Matty runs out of the house. She wishes this moment could replace that one, stamp out that mistake forever. But it can’t, so she has to make this one count even more.

“I’ll still be here, and I’m listening. I...I see you,” she says. “You and Christopher. I see you settled in so well here, even now with your injury.”

Eddie remains quiet, but apprehension creeps across his face and his eyes dart behind her where Buck and Christopher disappeared.

“I see the boots at the entrance,” she continues, her voice pitched low, “the extra toothbrush you forgot to hide away. The tupperwares full of food Isabel and Ana didn’t make. But more than anything, I see Buck. Everywhere.” A smile creeps up her lips. “The only place I didn’t see him was at brunch with Ana and call me crazy but I feel like you would have preferred he was there too.”

Eddie’s lip is being chewed to within an inch of its life, and his eyes are trained on the couch cushion.

“Hey,” she taps his knee. “You...grew up to be a good man, and a good father.” The words are so many years too late but she’s grateful to see them land as Eddie’s eyes begin to shimmer. “And you deserve everything you want for Christopher. Happiness, whatever that looks like.”

Eddie swallows thickly and clears his throat. “And dad?”

“Dad...has his head too far up his own ass to see or hear anything,” Helena admits. “But he’s due for a colonoscopy soon so I’ll work on it.”

Eddie chokes on a laugh that catches him off-guard and suddenly they’re both laughing, quietly so they don’t wake Christopher up again.

When they recover, Eddie invites her to the kitchen for a drink, where Buck is packing Christopher’s lunch for school tomorrow.

When she leaves, her stomach is in knots she imagines won’t smooth out for a few weeks yet, but a weight’s been lifted off her chest and her heart is full in a way it hasn’t been in years.

When she lands in El Paso, her phone pings with a message from Eddie: Hope you had a good flight. Free Friday for a call?

———-

When Friday comes, after catching up with Christopher, Eddie tells them he broke it off with Ana.

Helena digs her nails into Ramon’s knee instinctively, but she prepared him well and despite his continued reservations, all he says is, “That’s too bad, mijo.”

———-

Two months of virtual therapy and video chats later, Eddie tells them he’s bisexual. They react the way they should have all those years ago, and Helena tries to be grateful they got to have this moment at all instead of mourn for the years Eddie lost because of them.

There’s no mention of Buck, but Eddie’s eyes flit fondly over the laptop screen every once in a while at Christopher and someone else off-screen.

The call takes place at 8am LA time, and the sling has been gone for nearly three weeks.

———

At Christmas, Eddie and Christopher are waiting for them with smiles on their faces at LAX’s baggage claim. When they get home, Buck is there opening the door and helping them with their luggage.

Isabel isn’t there to mediate but supper that evening goes smoothly. The tension that lurks is anticipatory on all sides, a feeling of this being too good to last. But by dessert, everyone is sitting back in their chairs and smiling. And when Buck rounds the table to start the clean up, he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb brushing the back of Eddie’s neck, and Helena watches as the last bit of strain melts out of his body.

The basket of gauze is nowhere to be found in the bathroom, nor is the purple toothbrush. Instead, there’s a third electric toothbrush standing in line with the rest.

Helena’s been keeping an eye out for opportunities to follow Adriana’s advice. To find the words she actually, truly means, and say them before she runs out of time. So before turning in, she takes Eddie aside and tells him, “I’m really happy you found your home here in LA. I’m really proud of the family you’ve made.”

And when she closes her arms around him, she can feel him fold into her like he used to as a kid, no polite distance or anxiety. Just comfort.

[zafirosreverie]

How they act when they’re jealous (KH’s characters)

Agatha Harkness:

You’d know she is jealous when she starts being even more sarcastic.

She’d be ruthless with the poor soul that made her feel like that.

She’d be so possessive of you, as she’d practically glue herself to your hip. 

She’d make them feel bad in order to make them leave you alone.

If that doesn’t work, she wouldn’t hesitate to use her magic.

She only gives them one opportunity though.

If they don’t leave after it, well…

“Agatha! Put them down!”

“Not until they learn to keep their hands away from what’s mine”

“Agatha!”

She’d erase their memory, but not before she leaves a small warning in their minds.

She would also be mad at you.

The moment you put a foot on your house, you’re pushed hard against the nearest wall.

“You’re mine!” she growls, biting your neck “You’re fucking mine! And you better remember that”

Olivia Octavius:

She’d go into full Doc Ock mode.

She doesn’t care about what’s going one, she just knows they’re too close to you for her liking.

She’d act casual and even friendly as she’d approach you both.

But you could see the rage in her eyes.

As she smiles, you notice that that smile isn’t Liv’s, it’s Doc Ock’s.

“Liv-”

None of you could blink before tentacles were everywhere.

You gasped as she pressed them against a wall, choking them.

“Liv! Let them go!”

“I don’t want to see you ever again in my life, am I clear?” she growls at them before letting them go. 

She’d wrap a tentacle around you and take you out of there.

Ursula Gernsback:

She tries to stay calm, as she knows interactions with other humans are important.

But she doesn’t like the way this one keeps looking at you.

After a while she couldn't take it anymore.

“Human, pay attention to me!”

You’d roll your eyes and keep talking to the person, making Ursula even more angry.

She’d try to catch your attention a couple more times. 

When it doesn’t work, she’d reactivate her “evil” program.

You jump when something explodes next to them.

You look at your girlfriend to see her holding her gun.

“Ursula-”

“You have three seconds to leave or the next thing to explode will be your head”

You have never seen someone run that fast before.

You’d scold her, which makes her deactivate her evil program again.

“I’m sorry”

“You could have killed them!”

She knows how to play you, so she just looks down and pouts.

“Human wasn’t paying attention to me” she whispers.

“...I really regret teaching you the puppy face” you sigh.

She smiled as she knows you can’t stay mad at her for too long.

Carla Dunkler:

She’d be furious.

She’d cross her arms and look at you two for a moment.

When she sees them stepping closer to you, she’d move too.

You jump when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“There you are babe, I’ve been looking for you” she says.

She kisses you deeply in front of them.

Well, more like she tries to eat you.

She’d smirk when they awkwardly leave.

You roll your eyes. 

“Was it necessary?” you ask.

“What? Can’t I kiss you?” she smirks.

You laugh “You’re terrible” you say.

“Yes, but I’m hot”

“Hotter than hell, baby”

Eve Fletcher:

She’d be quiet. Like, really, really quiet.

She doesn’t do anything at the moment.

She just looks at you two.

When you come back to her, she’d avoid your gaze.

You start to worry when she makes an excuse to go home early, but says you could stay. 

You don’t, and go with her, but the way home is silent.

“Are you ok?” you ask her after a while, but she just nods.

You sigh and start to play the day in your mind to see where things went wrong.

When you realize what happened, you quickly go to her.

You find her taking a bath. 

She jumps when you enter the bathtub too, laying on top of her.

“What are you-”

You don’t let her finish as you kiss her deeply.

“You know I love you right?” you ask “That you’re the only one I want?”

She blushed when she realized you caught her.

“I mean it Eve, never doubt it”

“I love you too”

Jennifer Barkley:

Jennifer Barkley was not a woman you should mess with.

Yes, she’s funny, she’s beautiful, she’s confident. But she’s also jealous af.

If someone looks at you 3 seconds more than she allows, they’re doomed. 

She’d walk straight up to them and will destroy them with her words so that they would never dare to look in your direction ever again. 

If they made the mistake to touch you, she’d break their wrist.

“The next time you put a finger on what’s mine, it will be the last time you’ll have hands”

However, the moment you two are alone, you’re doomed. 

“Someone needs a reminder who they belong to” she growls

You gulp, but don’t say anything, you know it would be worse. 

“I’ll f*ck you until the only thing you can remember is that you’re mine”

And that she did.

[sunlightandsuffering]

In the Zeke gf au what happened when Mikasa finds herself under some mistletoe with Eren at the Yeager household?

OHOHOOO I don't know let's find out 😂😂 we'll see where my brain takes me lmao

Mikasa tried her best, she really did. It's not fair how it all ends, after going to such great lengths to avoid the disgusting Christmas menace, the literal parasite she's ducked and dodged all night, her arch nemesis: mistletoe.

She'd avoided it for a variety of reasons, mostly being she really didn't want to have to kiss Zeke, not on the lips, he was like her brother it would be weird. And if the Yeagers caught them under the mistleto well she has no doubt Carla would start a full on chant like at a basketball game caught on the kiss cam, 'Kiss, Kiss, Kiss!'

So, Mikasa had avoided the stuff like the plague. Of course it didn't help that Carla went rather crazy about Christmas, the entire massive mansion the Yeagers lived in was covered in christmas decorations from the beautiful lighting displays in the front yard all the way to the 4 different Christmas trees set up around the house. There was even a mini Christmas tree in the bathroom, it was a lot. But the mistletoe was by far the worst, it seemed like it was in every doorway, hallway or stairway she passed through. She'd taken to sprinting down the hall just in case someone were to see her and to never be in contact with one person for too long. She carefully planned her exit strategies everytime she left a room and always stayed far from other people when walking through hallways. Mikasa Ackerman would NOT be caught under the mistletoe, not this year, not ever.

But for some reason, all this important strategy seems to leave her brain whenever she sees Eren. It's not just because he's so goodlooking because there is that, he just frazzles her like no one ever has, makes her more nervous than she's ever been in her life. She doesn't know how to deal with the youngest Yeager, he reads her like a book and flirts with her so openly she doesn't know how to respond.

What is one to do when their fake boyfriend's younger brother compliments her ass in her leggings while they clean up for Christmas dinner? How is she supposed to deal with that?

He does it so seamlessly too it doesn't even come across as creepy, it's just unfairly attractive.

"You look nice tonight Mikasa." "Thanks," she mumbles awkwardly from where she's washing dishes as Eren dries and puts them away in the expansive kitchen, probably the only person who actually knows where everything goes.

She didn't think it was all that exciting it's just a pair of leather leggings and an ovesized knit green sweater, she looks cute, acceptable for holiday with her boyfriends family.

She puts another dish down on the drying rack, only to squeak as she feels a soft pinch to her butt, she turns to see Eren grinning at her lasciviously as he dances out of hitting range, "I like the leggings the most though, they make your ass look fantastic." She wants to throttle him, she settles for throwing her towel which Eren catches happily, still keeping out of range of her arms, he knows she's going to smack him. "Eren!"

"Mikasa," he replies, tone amused and she snags another towel, aiming to whip it at him.

"You can't do that, I'm dating your brother," she chastises as she gets closed, just enough to whip the damp towel at his thigh and he makes a little yelping sound as she hits with a rresounding 'SMACK'

He winces, before making his own move giving a thwack to her own thigh before dragging her into his arms, her back pressed to his chest, he leans into her ear, "For now."

She blushes bright red as she struggles from his grip.

"Forever," she gasps out as she rips away from him and Eren raises an eyebrow, "I don't think so."

"I think so." "No you don't." "I do to!" Mikasa is embarassed at how she stomps a little bit, glaring at him petulantly like an irritated child, he is SO infuriating.

"Then why haven't you told him about how me propositioning you yet?"

He has her there.

Mikasa fumbles with her lie, "I don't want to cause trouble." "Bullshit, you like it Mika."

She blushes at his nickname, so familiar, she's only known this man a week and a half and already he's got her so twisted up over him, it's crazy the effect he has on her. "I don't." "Liar." It's true, she does like all his attention, she's never had this much chemistry with a boy in her life.

But then she remembers Zeke, poor Zeke, her innocent best friend sitting in the living room just a few rooms over who's probably excitedly telling Grisha about his master's program and finally getting all the attention he deserves. She's not going to blow it up with stupid drama over a boy and a possible relationship that likely won't last.

Mikasa drops her towel, "I'm not lying, sorry Eren. We can't keep doing this, I'm with your brother, you need to accept that."

She turns towards the door to the kitchen, completely lost in her own thoughts, her own inner turmoil because yeah she really fucking likes this boy, and what if it's not a lost cause relationship, what if were to really work out. Eren is awesome, he's everything she never knew she wanted in a guy.

It sucks, but she's loyal and friends come first.

She's set, ready, doing the right thing for everyone, but she forgets, oh does she forget about the evil parasitic plant, the one hanging above the entrance to the kitchen, the large archway decorated with several lovely sprigs of the parasite.

She looks back just as Eren grabs her hand to stop her, just in the doorway, just perfectly underneath the fucking mistletoe. They both notice at the sametime, their eyes catching on the evil green plant and Eren's previously serious expression turns smug. "It's house rules Mikasa."

His hand is warm where he's clutching her wrist, big and wrapped entirely around it, tugging her just a little closer as she pulls away, her eyes dart up to his, pleading. "No one would know but you Eren."

"But I'd be breaking the rules." "You do it all the time I'm sure."

He grins, "Of course, but I happen to like this rule very much." "You don't have to tell," she says again, one last little plea, begging. "I'd tell, I'd definitely tell."

His pulls her closer by her wrist, tugging her into his arms and then large hands are cradling her cheeks, thumbs stroking at the soft skin below her eyes, forest green eyes looking right into her soul.

His lips find hers, soft, gentle and he tastes like mint and chocolate, and his lips are soft and warm.

Her eyes fall shut at the sensation, and one of Eren's hands falls to her waist to tug her in closer to him, deepening the kiss. His tongue traces the seam of her lips delicately and she can't help how she opens for him, how much she wants it. She moans a little as his tongue slips inside tangling with hers, and now he's really tugging her close, her body crushed against him and her arms wind around his neck to get closer.

This is the best kiss she's ever had in her life, fireworks going off behind her eyelids.

Their noses bump in their race to get closer, Eren pushing her back against the doorway, as close as she can get, she tangels fingers in his hair like she's wanted to do since the first time she saw him and it's just as soft as she imagined fun to tug.

When his lips leave hers she cries out in denial, but he succeeds, leaning his forehead against hers as they both breathe hard.

His emerald eyes are soft, contemplating as he observes her ruined lipstick and disheveled hair and Mikasa feels her heart beating overtime.

For a second they both breathe heavil, sharing each other's air and Eren drops a soft kiss to her nose before pulling away a bit and she whines at the loss of warmth.

She has to remember, she's not allowed to have him, he's not hers to want, this can't happen.

Eren watches her contemplatively as he pulls away, looking far more put together than she's sure she does, pulling his hair back into a proper bun. He reaches out a hand, grazing her cheek with a thumb, just observing her before he speaks, "Yeah after a kiss like that, you're not going to belong to my brother for very long Mika-baby, count on it."

He gives her cheek an affectionate pinch before turning his back on her to head back into the kitchen, "Go fix yourself up in the bathroom love, I'll finish up here."

Mikasa wanders to the nearest bathroom in a daze and she does indeed look like a mess, lipstick smudged, eyes wide and cheeks flushed red.

But despite it all Mikasa thinks she doesn't really hate mistletoe all that much anymore, not after a kiss like that.

[markosmate]

taken away

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au:// Woohoo y’all part 4 and we’re finally getting into the good stuff, only two more chapters till the smut ;)

Part 3   -   Part 5

“Where you going, Star?” My eyes snapped up to the owner of the voice, and they temporarily widened when I realized it was the same man the girl had left with the night prior. Apparently, her name was Star. His gaze was sharp, a silent warning that she better not defy him and proceed to get on Michael’s bike.

“For a ride. This is Michael.” She explained softly, gaze never leaving the mullet man. My own gaze flicked away from the conflict and towards my right where not even two feet away sat Marko, sitting atop his bike, and eyes already on me. He grinned a devilish kind of smile when my eyes met his and he sent me a small wink when I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away for a good few seconds.

“Let’s go.” Michael’s voice broke me out of it as he continued to try and get Star to leave with him. It didn’t work.

“Star.” Mr. Mullet warned. My eyes flicked between him and Star as she finally gave up and stepped away from Michael’s bike, grabbing the man’s shoulder and hoisting herself onto the back of his bike. I raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding the dynamic of whether or not they were together.

Once Star was seated comfortably and the dark-haired biker pulled the small child onto the back of his bike, Mr. Mullet turned his attention back to Michael. “You know where Hudson’s Bluff is? Over-looking the point?”

Michael scoffed a bit and shook his head. “I can’t beat your bike.”

Mullet grinned deviously and revved his engine. “You don’t have to beat me, Michael. You just have to try and keep up.” Before any of them made a move to leave, his gaze flicked to mine. “You’re more than welcome to tag along, doll. Wouldn’t want to leave a girl like yourself here alone.” And despite everything screaming in my head that I would be crazy to leave with these guys, and that I promised myself I wouldn’t associate with them and would turn in the other direction if they even glanced at me, I nodded.

His face lit up in an arrogant smirk and before I could even make the move to mount the back of Michael’s bike, Marko locked his gaze onto mine. “You could ride with me sweet thing, I’ll keep you safe. Promise.” There was a teasing tone to his words, and I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet name, but accepted his invite nonetheless. I hated riding with Michael, he was always jerky with the steering and switching between going way too fast and way too slow. These dudes couldn’t possibly be worse drivers than him, no matter where they were taking us to.

I pushed myself up and off the railing and walked around the side of his bike. I didn’t miss the victorious smiles the two long-haired blonds sent each other, but I chose to ignore it. I grabbed his shoulders and hoisted myself up onto the seat behind him. He looked back over his shoulder with a sly grin and whispered quietly to me. “Hold on.” I listened to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso and holding on for dear life as they set off. 

The four bikes sped down the boardwalk, weaving between crowds of people and almost hitting a few concession stands, and finally the boys all quite literally jumped the staircases onto the beach sand. They must have done that a thousand times, because Marko was able to steady the bike as soon as it hit the sand and he kept going as fast as possible without ever making a move to slow down. I lifted my face from being buried in the back of his shoulder and turned my head to see how Michael was holding up.

He seemed to slow his bike to a stop at the top of the staircase, hesitating and debating his options, before eventually opting to rev the bike down the stairs. His back tire kicked out as he hit the sand, but he quickly balanced the vehicle back out again. Once I knew he was safely traveling behind us, I turned back around to face the direction we were heading in. The boys seemed to be riding in a kind of diamond shape so they could all make eye contact with each other if need be. From my spot, I caught sight of Star turning to catch a glance of Michael before turning to face forward and grin happily as the boys cheered. 

I loosened my grip on Marko’s middle slightly, but not too much because I liked being this close to him in a weird sort of way. He turned his head to cheer with Paul who was laughing his ass off on his own bike a few yards away. I laughed and pressed my cheek to his shoulder blade to watch the ocean as we drove across the entirety of the beach. Soon the bikes moved into a line instead of the previous diamond, and we were speeding through the wooden stakes of the pier and swerving over a dirt path leading through the woods.

Finally, we emerged from the woods into a large cloud of fog, something completely abnormal at this time in the night and near this close to the bluff. I hugged myself closer to Marko as he, and the two other bikers pulled off to the side to let Michael and Mr. Mullet play a rather dangerous game of chicken leading towards the edge of the point.

At the last moment, Michael laid down his bike, skidding to a stop just before he plummeted over with his front tire hanging inches off the edge. Mullet braked his bike just in time, and he and Star stared out over the edge down towards the waves crashing against the bank. Marko and the two others quickly stopped their bikes as Michael stood sharply and whirled on Mullet.

I quickly stood from the bike and moved off to the side to get out of the boys’ way. The three bikers pushed themselves off their bikes, laid them down to the ground, and quickly moved closer as Michael ran towards Mullet. “What the hell you doing, huh?”

“No!” Star’s short scream of protest cut through the air as Michael pulled his fist back before punching Mullet clean across the face. The three others of the group quickly grabbed ahold of my brother and yanked him backwards, but he reciprocated just as fast and used both arms to shove back the dark-haired biker and Marko on either side of him.

He pointed at Mullet and began speaking once more. “Just you, come on! Just you.” He repeated, glaring Mullet down as the biker turned to look back at Michael with an eerily calm grin. “Come on, just you.” Michael mumbled again as Marko turned to grin at the other blond at his side.

“How far you willing to go Michael?” He mocked, watching with calculated eyes at Michael’s next move. Mullet gestures for his three friends to head down into the cave, and they all disperse from the three and begin to move their bikes so they’re out of sight. Before I can even try to make my way over to Michael to check if he’s alright, a pair of arms wraps around my waist from behind and swings me for a short moment. I let out a short squeak of a laugh, deciding that the chances of it being Marko are very high and there was no need for me to panic at the contact.

The wind blows hard from behind us, and a few locks of curly hair are blown forward across my shoulders. That confirms it, I note to myself.

After Michael’s and Mullet’s bikes are hidden away with the others, the eight of us make our way down a set of stairs that lead to an opening in the rock. The dark-haired boy leads us, a large burning stick in his hand that he uses to light a couple of fires around the cave.

The glam-rocker dude jumped down the last rock hand-in-hand with the young child. “Rock bottom, bud.”

“Yeah.” The kid laughed along, moving off to the side towards a large radio speaker. Marko gripped the loop of my jeans, pulling me to jump off the last rock and land next to where he was standing. I tore my eyes away from where Michael was to look at the curly-haired boy next to me. He was watching what Mullet was doing, not looking me in the eyes, but a smirk curled his lips when he noticed me staring.

As Mullet began explaining the history behind the cave we were in, Marko scooped a pigeon up from where it was picking at crumbs, and held it against his check as he pulled my belt loop to have me leaning against one of his legs. “Not bad, huh? This was the hottest resort in Santa Carla about 85 years ago.” Mullet’s voice echoed through the cave as glam-rocker leaned down to grab the heavy radio from the kid. “Too bad they built it on a fault. In 1906, when the big one hit San Francisco, the ground opened up, this place took a header-” He clapped his gloved hands together loudly as he walked around the fountain and in the direction of the corner where Marko and I stood. “- right into the crack. So now it’s ours.”

“So check it out, Mikey.” Glam rocker teased from on top of the fountain, busying himself with lighting a blunt. The guys all laughed at his teasing, before Mullet turned to where Marko and I were standing. 

“Marko,” Said boy immediately stood a bit straighter, shifting from foot to foot and loosening his hold on the pigeon and I. “Food.” Marko gave a short nod, letting the pigeon go and turning to me. He jokingly kissed my cheek before whispering a little too softly into my ear.

“Be back soon, sweet thing.” When he pulled back he was sporting a large Cheshire grin, and he winked as I smacked his hair with a small laugh before turning and hopping back up the rocks we originally came down.

Now that he was gone, I couldn’t make myself look occupied and avoid contact with any of the other boys. I watched as Mullet held the blunt glam-rocker had given him up to Michael and offered it to him as an appetizer. Michael declined, and while Mullet’s attention was diverted I analyzed everyone else to see who the most approachable was. I decided on glam-rocker, shyly moving over to the couch he was seated on and plopping down next to him.

He grinned at me when he saw me make myself comfortable. “Hey, babe. Nice to meet you.”

I smiled back at him and gripped the hand he was offering to me, shaking it firmly. “Ivory.”

He laughed, almost a disbelieving kind of laugh, before locking eyes with me again. “Oh, we already know. Marko told us. I’m Paul, that’s Dwayne,” He pointed towards the dark-haired one sitting on the furniture opposite of us who sent me a small smile and tiny wave. I waved back before keying back into what Paul was saying. “And that’s David. You might wanna start calling him his name, I don’t think he takes too kindly to just ‘Mullet’.”

I felt my face flush and my eyes shot back to lock onto Paul’s. “Oh no, have I been calling him that out loud?”

I don’t remember calling him that out loud at all to be completely honest, but Paul grinned back at me like he knew something that I didn’t and went right along with it. “Oh yeah, definitely. Like three times, if I’m telling you the truth.”

I shot him a bewildered look before laughing. “Well, great first impression for the scary one I guess.”

Paul chuckled along with me. “Hey, you’re after Marko right now, if there’s anyone to be labeled the scary one - other than David - it’s him.”

I shrugged at his words. “My feelings for the blond can’t be helped.” I quite enjoyed this little banter we had going back and forth, it was flowing easily and I enjoyed being able to have an ongoing conversation with someone without it turning awkwardly quiet halfway through. After a little more banter between Paul and myself, footsteps echoed across the rocks and Marko jumped down into the cave.

“Feeding time, come and get it boys!” He called out voice echoing. 

“Alright.” Paul cheered quietly as Marko carried the large box towards where David was sitting in his wheelchair.

“Chinese... Good choice.” David complimented when he saw the food inside the carryout box. Marko handed a container to David, before turning and tossing one to Dwayne.

“Over here bud.” Paul called out and Marko tossed one to him as well. The curly-haired biker then pulled out another container and leaned over to hand it to me, shooting a small smile my way when I thanked him.

I leaned back against the couch, Paul at my side, and watched as David opened up the box of rice in his hands. He took a bite of it before leaning over and offering some to Michael. “Guests first.”

“No.” Michael politely declined, holding up his hand and shaking his head softly. “You don’t like rice? Tell me Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?” David questioned, his joke causing the other boys to laugh at Michael’s expense. Mike snorted quietly before leaning over and excepting the rice, pulling the fork out and taking a bite.

I shifted in my seat, pulling my knees up to my chest and watching as David grabbed another box from Marko’s hands. A weird feeling filled my chest as I watched David look up at Michael instead of continuing to pick at his noodles.

“How are those maggots?” David’s voice suddenly broke the air and my eyebrows shot up. Michael looked up at him, eyebrow quirking and eyes filling with confusion.

“Hm?”

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots, how do they taste?” Michael rolled his eyes at what David was saying but looked down at his box nonetheless. I followed in his steps and brought my gaze down to my own box. Rice, that’s all that was in mine. My eyebrows furrowed and I lifted my gaze over to Michael’s box and had to physically fight myself against gasping aloud. Maggots wiggled around each other, almost completely overflowing from the container. Mike’s eyes widened and he threw the box to the floor, leaning to the side to spit out the creatures while the four boys laughed and Star protested against what was going on.

Mike reached up, and grabbed a piece of rice from his lip before looking back down at the box. We both stared in disbelief as the contents spilled on the floor weren’t even close to resembling maggots anymore - now all that sat there was the same rice in the rest of the boxes. “Sorry about that. No hard feelings, huh?”

“Nah.” Michael shook his head, obviously trying to play it off cool as I switched my gaze between the spilled rice and David, who shoved his chopsticks into the noodles he was holding. How had he done that? I had clearly seen maggots rummaging in the take-out container, but the next second they were back to looking like parcels of rice.

Suddenly, David leaned over and offered Michael the box of noodles in his hand. “Why don’t you try some noodles?”

I watched Michael physically recoil from the offered food and I was almost scared to look down and see what it was this time. “They’re worms.” Michael wasn’t lying, I caught a glimpse of the box before David pulled it back to himself and there were, indeed, clumps of worms twisted around each other.

“They’re worms.” David snorted in disbelief, rolling his eyes and collecting a few on his chopsticks.

“Hey, don’t eat that-” Michael tried to protest but shut his mouth when the only thing that was wrapped around the chopsticks and getting stuffed into David’s mouth were a tangle of noodles.

David swallowed his food, before looking back down to Michael with a small satisfactory smirk. “They’re only noodles, Michael.” I stared at the platinum blond in admiration, how had he managed to make both of us actually see something that wasn’t really there? How had he managed to make both the maggots and the worms seem so realistic? 

“That’s enough.” Star spoke clearly, trying to get the boys to listen to what she was saying.

“Ah, chill out girl.” Paul shushed her from beside me, clearly enjoying the show David was putting on for them at Michael’s expense.

Suddenly, David’s cold eyes turned to me. He smirked, and gestured Marko over to him.

Marko leant over, letting David speak quietly into his ear and letting his eyes lock onto mine as the leader spoke. He nodded a bit, breaking his gaze from mine, dropping his food onto a small side table, and turning and walking over to an old, dusty collection of drawers. I watched him intently, feeling in that moment like I could live the rest of my life completely content if I could just watch Marko do absolutely anything. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a large bejeweled bottle with red liquid swishing around on the inside.

He carried this bottle with both hands and made his way back over to David’s side, handing it over to his leader as gently as possible. Everything became silent, and Star made her move to stand over to the side of where Michael was sitting against a broken fountain. Marko maintained his spot beside the platinum blond, but this time his eyes stayed on me - regardless of if mine returned his gaze or not.

David popped the cork of the bottle and raised it to his lips, taking a large gulp of the liquid and letting his eyes roll back into his head in pleasure after swallowing it. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the interaction unfold. He opened his eyes, now a faint bloodshot, and locked them immediately with Mike’s.

“Drink some of this, Michael.” I didn’t like the feeling I got in my chest just then, a deep unsettling feeling that shook me to my core and made me want to run up and out of the fallen hotel and hightail it home. Judging by Michael’s expression, he obviously didn’t have even close to the same idea I did. He watched David with interested eyes as he spoke his next few words. “Be one of us.”