#the night has a thousand eyes chapter 2

[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: here we are, the meat and potatoes. the fic is really kicking off. . . and they're already flirting?! ellie is so touch and affection starved that she nearly jumps out of her own skin every time you even look at her.)

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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

In that halfway space between waking and sleep it was hard to discern what was real and what wasn’t. Your bed felt warm, sheets still tangled around your arms and legs. The weight of your blanket on your chest could easily be confused with another’s body, and so you felt yourself smile. Warm, happy, safe- 

Abby was behind you, her limbs expertly twisted around yours like she’d done it a thousand times before. . . and she had. 

Slowly you opened your eyes, staring blankly ahead of you into your pitch black bathroom. You recognized the fresh scent of your shampoo, and felt the way your hair still clung to your hot cheeks- wet from your shower the night before. It was like you were suspended in a memory, everything all soft and fuzzy around you. The dots weren’t perfectly connecting, and still you were happy. For a second you just laid there, unable to look down at the hand you could feel so vividly at your waist. Would you see Abby’s knuckles when you looked down? Would you see the rubber promise ring she had insisted on wearing? Everything always had to be even and fair with her. 

This morning felt familiar. Like you’d lived it before. Your breath left you in a rush when the bed creaked behind you. 

“Abby,” God, she was back. She was back and she was right behind you. “Baby?” 

There was a soft groan and then the arm tightened, bringing you into a warm chest. Her bicep squeezed your arm tightly against her shoulder, and all at once you were tucked in so tight. Confusion tugged at your features, and you mulled over exactly why you were clinging to her arm so tightly. 

“What’s wrong?” She whispered against your hair, her voice still thick with sleep. Still, her fingers stroked at your bare stomach. 

“I had a nightmare,” You mumbled, trying to recall exactly what had plagued you just seconds ago. You can’t remember now that you’re safe here. . . safe with Abby again. “You were gone and I was all alone.” 

Those moments came back to you in flashes. The ache, the constant pain of losing her, the “learning to live without her” that crushed you entirely. You turned around in her grasp, nuzzling your nose into the crook of her neck. You took deep inhales, trying to still your rising panic. You could feel the steady beating of her heart against your cheek, the warmth of her bare breasts against your collar bones. 

“I was gone?” She raised a hand, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a few golden strands falling onto her forehead as she moved her head against the pillow beneath her. “You can tell me about it if you want.” She offered supportively, petting your back in slow circles. 

You don’t know why. . .  but you missed those circles. It felt like you’d been without them for weeks. Months. 

“I-I got a phone call. . . and they told me that you’d died,” Your bottom lip quivered, your eyes filling with tears. You couldn’t help but laugh pathetically at your unnecessary hysterics. Abby was right here. Everything was okay. “It felt like the longest nightmare I’ve ever had. It was horrible.” 

“You did so good though.” She whispered, her hands still stroking. 

Your muscles tensed, and slowly you moved your hand up her side, fingers brushing against her skin. You pressed a soft kiss against the underside of her breast, a tear breaking free past your lower lashes. This moment suddenly felt fleeting. 

“I did?” You questioned, pulling away to look at her. 

She was so beautiful. Like an angel had fallen from heaven and landed right in your bed. The sun was just beginning to rise, setting the line of trees just outside of your window ablaze. She was diaphanous and golden laying there beneath you. You were so lucky. You could barely breathe when she looked up at you like that, her eyes so thick with pride and love. 

“You did, baby girl. You stayed so strong.” She cracked a small smile, but it looked pained. Like she was also realizing that the two of you couldn’t exist here forever. “I need you to keep it up though, alright?” You couldn’t feel her hand on your back anymore, nor the softness of the sheets. 

“Please,” You sobbed out, reaching out to cup her cheek. She didn’t feel like anything. Like your hand was molded around a pocket of open space. Nothingness. She was about the size of the palm of your hand now, her urn sitting on the mantle in your living room. “Please don’t leave me again.” 

Her blue eyes stared up at you, proud and unwavering in their convictions, as they always were. . . always had been. “I’m never far. Pinky.” Promise. 

And then you were in your bed again, the alarm on your phone blaring. 

“Abby?” You mumbled, and you didn’t have to turn over to realize you were alone. 

Ellie was good at putting pressure on herself. It had always been a form of motivation, as cruel as it seemed. She couldn’t let today be awful. No episodes or meltdowns and no long bouts of silence. You were pretty and it really seemed like you could use a friend. 

Ellie could use a friend too. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shown interest in a girl. She’d always been career driven with a one track mind. She was good at overworking herself and running herself dry. She hoped that you’d be able to use that to your benefit today. Ellie wanted to lose herself in something. . . in someone. She wanted to be useful for the first time in what felt like a long, long while.

So she woke up at the butt crack of dawn and took a shower. She kept her eyes shut tight as she washed herself and didn’t even bother to towel dry her hair before she was pulling on an outfit. Thick droplets of water stained the shoulders of her jean button up as she tied up the laces on her boots. She focused on one shoe at a time, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. Every once and a while her brain would wander, hellbent on self destruction, but with a small groan she’d remember the sadness in your eyes. 

She’d remember who she was before the accident. 

She moved down the stairs as quietly as she could, praying that Joel’s dog wouldn’t start barking once he realized that his new best friend was leaving the house. The keys to her old car were on the rack beside the front door, right next to Joel’s flashy new pair. He’d told Ellie over dinner that he’d been maintaining the beat up old Jeep the best that he could, meaning she at least had a little bit of freedom while she was back home. 

She locked the door behind her, the cool morning breeze stinging against her wet ears as she gracelessly stumbled down the stairs, juggling the bulky set of keys in her hand. A huge metal spaceship that Joel had stuffed into her Christmas stocking senior year, a neon green carabiner she’d bought at one of the gas stations closest to her school, and a few other childish charms that she couldn’t place any meaning behind swung from the nearly ancient keychain. Her sense of self expression and style back in those days was tacky to say the least, but she appreciated child-Ellie nonetheless. 

“You poor child.” She teased under her breath, climbing into the driver's seat and shoving the key into the ignition. She sucked in a breath and held it before cranking it up. 

To her surprise, the clunker started right up, though the engine shook the steering wheel a little when she put the thing in reverse down the driveway. She hadn’t driven a car since that night at the gas station. It felt a little weird to be behind the wheel, but even stranger to be back here. Jackson was a beautiful place. . . but it didn’t feel the same way that it had before. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her age or the changes that were happening inside of her. The streets still looked the same, aside from some very minor changes to neighbor's houses. She barely paid any attention to her surroundings when Joel had driven her through town yesterday, and she was a bit scared to see the differences. She didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts or do any soul searching, so she reached out for the radio, pressing play on whatever CD had been shoved into it last. 

Depeche mode began to blast over the speakers, and she let out a small sigh of relief. At least her music taste wasn’t horrible in high school. 

But it was no wonder she didn’t have a girlfriend. Ellie wouldn’t have dated little Ellie either, that was for sure. 

She felt a bit crazy to be driving in the opposite direction of town. Back when she lived here, town was the only place she was headed when she was allowed out of the house. It was no wonder why the two of you had never really crossed paths. She used to complain about how far off in the “middle of nowhere” Joel lived, but your farm had his ranch beat by fifteen minutes. The houses got fewer and farther in between, and despite how much Ellie truly did enjoy the city, she couldn’t deny how beautiful the countryside was. The sprawling fields, grazing animals, and splattering of wild flowers had her rolling down the windows of her car, ignoring the chill so that she could get a better look of her surroundings. 

Even the air quality was better in Jackson.

She’d been down this road a few times in her life, having been in the backseat of Joel’s car every single time. She recognized your home from her memories, but your last name didn’t mean much to her back then. She slowed her car down to a crawl, staring at the large sign that sported your family name proudly. 

Ellie would be proud of the farm too if it were hers. She bumped down the drive five minutes earlier than you had told her to show up, staring with wide eyes at your house. It was two stories with a balcony- white with green shutters. The wrap around porch was screened in, protecting you and any guests you might have over from bugs that thrive in the summertime heat. 

Your stretch of land belonged on a painting, and for a second she worried if maybe she wasn’t the right friend for you. This house was too nice and Ellie. . . Ellie wasn’t very nice at all. She'd only talked to you for five minutes yesterday, but she got the feeling that you were a "good girl". You were wholesome, which wasn't how anyone in Ellie's life would choose to describe her. She slowly made her way up your front steps, and for a second she wondered if she should leave. It would probably be better if she did. Ellie could always just lie and tell Joel that she couldn’t find your house. . . he’d probably drop it after insulting her about her bad sense of direction. 

Ellie couldn’t afford to get a crush on anyone right now either. It was horrible timing, and what would be worse is if you actually ever returned those feelings. How was she supposed to explain to you that she wouldn’t ever make a good partner? She couldn’t protect you from anything, not when any loud sounds or bright lights had her falling to her knees. She was careerless, depressed to the point where she had completely lost who she was, had a drinking problem, and was quite certain that she’d combust the second you’d touch her. She was touch and attention starved, but hadn’t remembered that she was even able to desire someone until she’d seen you yesterday- 

You’d be dodging a bullet if she hightailed it right off of your property. So she turned on her heel and stared at her boots as she began walking back down your stairs. Her feet kicked up dirt as she made her way back to her jeep, hand already reaching into her pocket for her keys- 

“Did I not hear you knocking on the door?” A feminine voice called out to her. 

She sucked in a breath so hard that she let out a loud cough, eyes widening as she turned around to face the porch. You were wearing a pair of dirt stained jeans today, though your hair was fastened back with a white bow. Ellie, despite her previous need to protect you from herself, couldn’t fight off the urge to get closer. There was something different about you today. You were a bit manic, your hands already busying themselves with straightening out a few of the potted plants on your porch. You seemed a bit anxious, but you didn’t comment on it so neither did Ellie. Any boundaries you had yesterday with her were gone. You flashed her a wide smile, sauntering up the drive so that you could wrap her up in a tight hug. 

Your arms were shaking as they weaved around her neck, pulling her in close. She froze, limbs locking up in surprise as she tried to fully grasp what was going on. You were treating her like an old friend, someone you were excited to see. Ellie didn’t know why you’d be so happy to see her. . . but then again, she was happy to see you. She remembered what Joel had said last night.

Maybe you were sick and tired of being alone. 

Your bare arms were cold too- freezing as her fingers accidentally brushed the backs of them. Ellie realized that she had gotten here just in time. If anything, she cursed herself for not showing up twenty minutes earlier, if only to save you from whatever had you this shaken up. 

“I probably knocked too quietly. Should have knocked louder, huh?” She mumbled, biting the inside of her cheek as she gave you a gentle squeeze. 

She wasn’t used to holding someone like this that wasn’t Dina or Jesse. You felt nice in her arms. Your muscles weren’t hard or rigid like hers, you were all soft and rounded edges. Gentle curves and arms ready and willing to embrace her. Flushed cheeks and silk bows. You smelled wonderful too- sweet and floral, like Jasmine mixed with honey. She didn’t want to let you go, and you didn’t seem ready to end the hug either.

You were still quivering. 

“Yeah, you should have.” You agreed, giving Ellie one last squeeze before taking a few unsteady steps back.

You hadn’t been completely sure whether or not she would show up today. Waking up this early was a lot to ask of anyone, let alone someone you had just met yesterday. Still, a part of you had hoped that she would be here. On days that were this bad you found it impossible to work, no matter how busy it kept you. You often spent “mental health days”  laid out by Abby’s grave or buried six feet under pillows and blankets in what used to be your shared bed.

Ellie’s presence changed things. 

So you squared off your shoulders and cracked her a wide smile, praying that it looked genuine and not forced. 

“Let’s hop in my truck and I’ll take you on a little tour of the property before we get started.” You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the woman take a few steps closer to you.

Ellie looked like she wanted to say something but was holding herself back. You weren’t sure whether or not you would be able to handle her prying or the pity that would follow. 

Your fingers twitched at your sides, wishing so deeply that you hadn’t woken up at all this morning. Ellie was beautiful- gorgeous even. You would have been head over heels if you had met her years ago, before. . . well, before Abby happened. Still, her beauty wasn't enough to completely distract you from your grief. A part of you felt guilty for even finding her attractive as you slid into the front seat of the truck. 

Maybe that was why you’d had such a strange dream last night. Or maybe. . . maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it really was Abby trying to tell you that it was okay to move on. That was confusing to even think about, and it made you count the months since her death on both of your hands, trying to gauge if enough time really had passed. You didn’t want to be alone anymore, but the thought of being in love with anyone seemed like an impossibility. Everything was broken. How could you ever love anyone the same way that you loved Abby? You’d just be doing that other person a disservice. 

That’s right, you were cursed. 

You could feel Ellie’s gaze on the side of your face as you made your way down the dirt road, up towards the hen houses. You blinked a few times, the apples of your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Slowly you met her gaze, lips twitching up in a small smile as she quickly looked away from you, nervous over having been caught. 

“My dad built ten large coops, so this whole fenced-in area right here is where the chickens graze.” You stopped the car and put it in park, keeping the old thing running like you usually did during your quick morning chores. Sometimes the poor truck had a hard time starting back up, and you’d probably burst into tears if your newfound friend had to walk a half mile back to the house with you. 

“Do you guys have any problems with foxes?” She asked, keeping up with your fast pace as you unlatched the front of the fence for the both of you. 

Your nose wrinkled in disgust, and you were quick to throw your arms up exasperatedly. 

“Oh god, do we! I had to get someone out here to change out the fence just six months ago because one of those little fuckers had somehow managed to dig it’s way into their area. Killed seven of my poor girls.” You remembered how angry you were when you’d pulled up to the coops that morning. Burying seven dead hens wasn’t a pleasant experience for you, but it wasn’t something that was new. Still, you hated knowing that they’d suffered in their final moments. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” Ellie looked around the area, finding it impossible not to notice how well kept everything was. The coops were freshly painted, the grass was gorgeous and plush- bright green under her feet. Truly, your farm was an oasis. She’d never seen anything quite like it before, and you'd barely even started the tour.

“Can I hold one?” She asked meekly, smiling up at you shyly as you turned to look at her. You didn’t exactly take her as the type of girl that would want to hold a chicken, but you were happy to oblige her. 

“One of my mamas just hatched a few chicks. Would you want to hold-” 

“Yes.” She quickly added, jogging off in the direction that you were pointing, eager to hold anything tiny and fluffy that you had to offer. 

You were shocked at the laugh that bubbled its way out of your chest. A genuine, good natured laugh that you found hard to contain as she began impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for you to catch up. 

“Didn’t take you for a chicken lover, city girl.” You teased, unlatching the door for her so that she could make her way inside. 

The hens squawked excitedly at your appearance, realizing they’d be able to eat their fill of grass, bugs, and dried corn. A few ran over, crowding at your ankles. Rows and rows of nests were lined up along the walls. In the back of the coop were a few small rectangular doors that you could open, which was what you used to harvest eggs. Your dad’s old coops didn’t have anything fancy like that, so you grew up having your hands pecked at. You used to run back home to your mother with blood bruises and angry, raised skin. 

“I love chicks.” Ellie said simply and the double meaning wasn’t lost on you. 

As if on cue one of the chickens began pecking at the woman’s ankles, earning a small hiss of surprise from her. You snorted, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t laugh at her expense. “I can’t say the feeling is mutual, apparently.” You added playfully, looking around for the yellow poof balls. 

“Old news.” She was smiling at you, and something in your chest began doing awful, uncomfortable flips. For a second you even felt a bit nauseous. 

Ellie wasn’t Abby, but there was something similar about the two of them. The short haired girl seemed capable and strong. There was a physical sort of confidence in the way that she walked that told you that she knew how to handle herself. You watched as she shoved her hands in her pockets, shoulders squared off, feet shoulder length apart- and it had your lips parting. 

Still, you remembered Joel talking about his daughter. . . saying that she was military. You couldn’t remember which branch she belonged to, but you could tell that she was well trained. You tried to imagine what Ellie would look like if she was put in a situation where she needed to protect herself, and you found a shiver running up your spine.

There was a coldness that had been in her eyes when the two of you had first met that had chilled you to the bone. You saw none of it when you looked into her eyes now, but. . . still. . . the thought terrified you. Had those capable hands ever killed anyone before? 

You felt horrible even thinking that, even going as far as to give your thigh a small slap in punishment as you bent down, knees digging into the wood shavings and hay. The chicks didn’t seem off put by your small scowl. They saw you and instantly thought “food”, which had them clumsily running in your direction. You hadn’t heard her walk up beside you, only felt the sleeve of her long sleeve shirt brush against your arm as she sat back on her haunches beside you. 

“It won’t scare them if I pick them up, will it?” She asked gently, slowly reaching a hand out so that she could brush it against their plush down feathers. They chirped contentedly, unaware of what “danger” even meant yet. You were guilty of babying your chickens, meaning none of them were scared of humans. They pecked at you when they were annoyed, but were never violent per say. 

“Not at all. They might seem a bit unhappy, but it’s only because they’re hungry.” 

You pressed your hand to your cheek as you watched the woman pick one of the chicks up, holding the tiny thing tightly against her chest so as to not drop it. There was something almost comical about seeing the woman look this gentle, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried not to hurt the tiny thing. It was adorable. Which was terrifying for you. 

You were once again reminded of your dream. . . and you didn’t think you were ready to let Abby go. Not even when Ellie looked up at you excitedly, using her free hand to gesture towards the small creature in disbelief. Almost like she was scared that even talking would frighten it. 

“So what do we do now?” Ellie asked, putting the chick down so that she could stand back up. You followed her lead, making your way back over towards the door. 

“We open up all the doors and let them walk around for the day. I usually come back and get them back in their coops by sundown.” You let her know, leaving the door wide open as you moved coop to coop. 

Ellie helped you, cutting down the time in half. The two of you were back in the truck in record time. You showed her the fields where you planted corn in the late summer to get ready for early fall. You pointed out the small flower garden you had taken upon yourself to cultivate, and then you pulled up to the green houses. Her jaw went slack as she took in all of the buildings. 

“You do all of this yourself?” She needed to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Sure, she was no farmer, but even someone like her knew just how much work this must be for you. 

She couldn’t imagine you doing this all day, every day all by yourself. It kinda made her chest ache a bit for you. So when you nodded she took it upon herself to climb out of the truck, eager to do something to lighten the burden for you. 

As the two of you approached what appeared to be the oldest of the greenhouses, she couldn’t help but realize that she’d been with you for about an hour. . . and she felt great. Better than great, she felt normal. She had been sent out here so that she could recover, and while she didn’t quite understand what that really and truly meant, being here with you felt right. Being around the animals felt therapeutic, and while Joel might have told you a little bit about her in passing, you didn’t know enough about Ellie to pass any sort of judgment or feel any sort of pity. 

Even so, Ellie wasn’t sure she’d be against telling you about what happened. Something told her that you would be understanding. You knew what it felt like to lose people, and she was sure that you had regrets somewhere along the line. Everyone does when it comes to losing loved ones. 

She hated that you had suffered enough to understand where she was coming from, but loved that she wasn’t alone for once. 

The two of you walked in silence, and there was a heaviness in your eyes that let her know that you were thinking about something serious and sad. Ellie wondered whether your father was on your mind this morning. . . or perhaps your girlfriend. It wasn’t her place to ask, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. 

“Want to help me water them?” You finally asked, motioning towards the tables of plants. 

She nodded, but quickly turned to face you. She couldn’t count how many green houses you had on top of this one. 

“Do we water all of those plants too?” She felt stupid the second that she asked the question, but even more so when you began to giggle. 

Sounding stupid was worth it to hear the sound, so she sucked it up. 

“Those green houses are newer and have a built in sprinkler system. We just have to worry about this one, thankfully. We’d be here all afternoon if not.” You began to head in the direction of the hose so that you could turn it on, your stomach tightening with hunger. 

You knew the second you got back to the house and made breakfast that you’d be nauseous though. Bad days like this were always the same. You were hungry but you couldn’t eat. You wanted to distract yourself but nothing would work. You wanted to talk to someone but didn’t have any friends that you trusted enough to actually. . . onload on, and you were sick of your mom crying on your behalf. 

“So you’re staying with Joel now? For how long?” You decided to make small talk as you handed her the hose, walking along with her as she painstakingly paid attention to every sprout. 

She licked her lips before answering you, eyes flickering in a way that made you think that she might feel a bit nervous. 

“I was. . . sent here. It’s not like I don’t love being home, because I kinda do. It’s just not something that I exactly chose for myself.” That didn’t feel like the whole truth, but you supposed that she would tell you whenever she was ready. 

You played with the raw hem of your old t-shirt, suddenly anxious that you might have put her in a bad spot. Still, you found yourself wanting to know more about her. 

“Do you have an addiction problem?” You realized how inappropriate it was to be so blunt. Your mouth went bone dry with panic, and you were quick to grab her hand, shaking your head. “A-All I’m trying to say is that my uncle had a really bad drug problem for years. He’s been clean and sober since last Christmas and is doing great. I don’t judge, that’s all. I’m proud of you, if anything.” 

She gulped, looking down at your hand and noticing how close your body was to hers now. She fumbled to turn the hose off with one hand, trying to get her breathing under control. It was twice now that you were touching her like this, and she hated herself for wanting to wrap you back up in a hug so bad. She was also trying not to notice how plush and kissable your lips were.

You smelled great too, which made it hard for Ellie to think. 

“Yeah, I guess I have a bit of an addiction problem,” She mumbled, but shrugged her shoulders soon after, contradicting herself. “But that’s not really why I’m here.” 

Ellie would have to tell you eventually, she supposed. If the two of you were going to be as good of friends as Joel wanted, then she’d have to fess up eventually. It was better to get it out and in the open now rather than later. Plus. . . if she had some sort of a breakdown then maybe you’d be more understanding if you knew why it was happening. 

“My therapist tells me that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was in the Marines and I had a really bad accident. So. . . it was hard for me to live alone.” Ellie stared down at a long-dead leaf on the ground and bent down to pick it up, gently playing with it’s crinkled edges. 

“Did you have panic attacks? I have those sometimes too.” You wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone, as stupid as it might sound. 

You wanted to relate to her without telling her that your girlfriend had also been a Marine. She was being vulnerable with you, and the last thing you wanted to do was make this moment about you by bringing up your deceased girlfriend.

“Yeah. . . Yeah, I have those a lot. Sometimes I lose track of time- disassociate. It’s scary for others to deal with, so my friends thought that it would be best if I were with Joel. There’s less triggers here than back in Chicago.” You could tell that she was still uncomfortable with the subject matter, but she was powering through. 

Ellie appreciated that there wasn’t a hint of judgment in your tone. You genuinely seemed curious. . . and talking about herself like this felt good. Validating, even. 

“What triggers you? I just want to make sure that I don’t overstep or accidentally do anything wrong-” 

“No, no. You’re fine. It’s more so loud noises and bright lights.” 

“So no gunshots?” 

“Guns aren’t too bad. . . it’s more so car crashes. Explosions, you know?” 

Your mouth went dry. You did know. It’s how Abby died, afterall. You hated that Ellie had gone through something similar. Your heart ached for her. 

“Is that how you got this. . . ?” You began to brush your fingers against the scar over her eye. You froze as she flinched, guilt bottoming out your stomach as you quickly yanked your hand away.

She reached out to take your elbow into her calloused hand before you could drop your palm back down at your side, and pressed your fingers against the skin herself. Her skin was still soft, but raised and jagged. You’d never felt a scar this deep before. Still, it was warm under your touch. Alive. 

The moment felt oddly intimate, and you kept your fingers there for a few seconds too long before dropping your hand back at your side. Ellie felt like she was going to explode. No one had ever wanted to touch her scar, let alone been allowed to. 

“Yeah, It is.” She cleared her throat, grabbing one of her arms in her hands nervously. She was starting to realize that she didn’t mind being seen by you. “I’m legally blind in the eye now, which has been pretty hard to get used to.” 

“So you can’t see at all out of it?” You questioned, beginning to walk back over towards the repotting station. You’d noticed a few sprouts that were getting a little too big for their pots, and the last thing you wanted was crowded roots. 

She followed after you like a lost puppy, hot on your trail. “I can see shapes and colors. Movement, and everything. But if you held up your hand and asked me “how many fingers am I holding up”, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” She’d practically had to relearn how to do everything again, as dramatic as that sounded. Losing the vision of one eye affected a lot more than one might think. 

“Oh, shit.” You remarked, nose wrinkling up in sympathy. You couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been on top of dealing with the mental anguish of the accident. 

“ ‘Oh, shit’ is right.” She agreed with a small smile, leaning her hip against the table as you began laying out the necessary supplies. She watched your hands as they moved expertly around the table, eyes locked on your fingers. “I used to be beautiful.” She joked absentmindedly, alluding to the scar that now marred her features. 

“You’re still beautiful.” You said, fully concentrated on the task at hand. 

You didn’t realize the weight that your words carried, nor Ellie’s reaction to them. She felt like a giddy teenager. She couldn’t stop herself from fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt. She was smitten.

You were the first person to treat her like an actual human being since the incident. This was the most alive she’d felt in almost a year. . . and she was talking about things. Not like she might talk to her therapist, it was different than that. She was talking to someone that wanted to get to know her, not just to diagnose her, but to understand her. It felt good. Really good. Sickeningly good. 

And you thought she was beautiful. 

“Do you want to help me repot these little guys?” You asked, motioning towards the tiny pots. 

She was scared of killing your seedlings but nodded anyway, desperate for your approval. Ellie watched as you demonstrated the entire thing for her, praying to god she wouldn’t forget a step. 

The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, shaking out roots and gently tucking the plants into their new homes. It was calming- melodic, almost. The constant motion, the gentle noises of the wilderness all around you. Ellie could even feel herself getting good at it. Not as good as you, of course. . . but she wasn’t as bad as she thought she would be. 

You watched as she rolled her sleeves up and over her forearms, taking a second to appreciate her hands. Once again, you felt guilty for being so attracted to her. Strands of auburn hair had fallen out from behind her ear and hung in her pale face as she focused on her task. Her strong hands worked methodically. Her veins, her knuckles, her forearms and biceps- Ellie wasn’t just beautiful but gorgeous. 

‘Give me a sign, Abby. If I’m not reading too far into last night's dream. . . then just give me some sort of a sign.’ You thought to yourself, eyebrows furrowing as you packed more dirt around the seedling in your hand. You felt like you were being horrifically dramatic, but what else could you do?

You felt idiotic. Delusional, even.

Beside you Ellie continued to work, completely unaware of your building turmoil. Pot after pot, she was really getting the hang of it. Pack down a layer of dirt, shake out roots, pack dirt on top- repeat.

She  reached out for another one of the black plastic pots, sliding it over in front of her. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the rattling. She’d been so close to covering up whatever was at the bottom with dirt, but the sunlight caught whatever it was just right.

It sparkled. 

Ellie pinched the object between two dirt coated fingers, her eyebrows practically raising up to her hairline as she realized that it was a ring. A valuable looking one, at that. 

“Uh. . . is this yours?” Ellie asked, showing it to you. 

You blinked a few times at the ring, scared for a moment that you were hallucinating, because things like this only happened in movies. People asking for signs from the other side only for a ghostly apparition to pop up on screen.

Still, that was your promise ring in Ellie’s hand. 

Your bottom lip quivered, eyes filling up with tears before you could even stop them. You reached out with gentle fingers, taking it into your hand graciously. 

“Thank you.” 

And you weren’t sure if you were talking to Ellie. . . or Abby.

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[kingtomura]

Vitality | 2

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home.  Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you. All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, found family LoV, mdni wc: 3.2k | prev | chapter 3 | m. list | read on ao3

There are tunnels under the bar. They wind and they twist and they are very easy to get lost in. 

That’s the point, Shigaraki tells you when you ask about the arrangement the next day. It had been a struggle to keep up with Kurogiri as he led you to your new living quarters for the first time – now you were able to get away with asking him to teleport you there instead. 

But you agree. 

They should be confusing so no one can easily find where you sleep. 

But not only are they confusing, they are dark, dusty and kind of spooky. Like an ancient vampire's lair or something silly like that. The rooms however, are not so creepy. They are oddly normal and have everything you need. 

Your room contains a desk, bed and empty shelves — ready and waiting to be filled with books. 

The sheets were neatly made and there was a small rug near your bed. You assume it's to break up the bland look of the concrete, but it's fine. For some reason it feels safer than what you've had before. 

A bed, desk and a door with a lock. Yeah, much safer.

There isn’t much time to dwell on the interior design of your new room because a knock at your door shakes you from your thoughts. 

It’s a little late at night for a visitor, but you push past the feeling, spouting a firm come in and waiting on the guest to make themselves known.

You have to will your face to stay neutral as Tomura Shigaraki walks into your room, absently closing the door behind him. He’s wearing the hand-mask, but you can still make out the carmine red of his eyes in the dim lighting of your room.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” he starts, voice sounding anything but apologetic, “but there are a few things I need to know.”

You watch as he stands by the door, hands in his pockets as he goes on, wasting no time questioning you. And you should answer him, especially if you are going to be staying here with them, but your mind cannot process whatever it is he’s saying. 

Everything around you seemed to come to a stop as your eyes and focus pinpointed on the closed door behind him. The feeling of being shut in with another person, another man, makes your throat feel dry and your hands shake. 

Shigaraki is watching, waiting for an answer but you’re frozen — stuck as the walls suffocate your words.

He tilts his head, another question ready to be fired off, maybe to ask about your lack of response, but you beat him to it.

“Could you… open the door? Please.” 

It catches him off guard, but his eyes never leave yours. “Why?”

There is no bite to the question, no malice. Just curious. 

“I just don’t like when doors are closed.” You shrug, refusing to meet his gaze. Desperate to keep some of your diffidence inside, “makes me feel claustrophobic.” 

Shigaraki hums, answer seemingly good enough for him as he turns back to open your door, wide enough that you feel comfortable, but still enough to give you privacy. You feel like you can breathe again.

“Like I was saying,” he picks up again, not missing a beat and pulling out your desk chair to take a seat. “I need a little more information. You say that you stumbled upon Giran, but how? What were you doing before?”

There’s an odd feeling in your chest. One of solid dread that weighed more than a thousand pounds. It made your eyes water and your chest tight, but you willed it all away. You would not break down here in front of a man you knew next to nothing about.

You clench your fists and meet his eyes, there was a decision to be made right now. If this place were to house you then you must do what you could to be honest. Not completely, but enough. 

“I… hurt someone. And I ran away before anyone could find me.”

“And who was the unlucky fellow?” His words are light and dripping with a sarcasm that made you feel like you were walking on eggshells.

“It was,” you stall, pondering if giving him the information would backfire. You decide that it is not something you should hide. There was no erasing the past. “My father.”

There’s a chill that passes through your body as the words leave your lips. The sticky sweet falsehood of the name makes you nauseous. That man is not your father, but it is all you know him as — and who were you to challenge that? Even without his presence. 

Tomura says nothing for a while, drowning the room in a still quiet so thick you almost think he hadn’t heard you. 

“Is he dead?” He asks, raspy voice finally breaking through the quiet. 

“What?” You ask, confusion lining your features. 

“Did you kill him?”

You shake your head, and it feels like you're in the moment again — shattering glass, splash of blood and then silence. The memory of him laying out on the living room floor, blood beginning to pool under his head sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I don't know.” And it's the truth, he could very well be dead, “and I couldn’t risk sticking around to find out. But I didn't mean to–”

“Can you defend yourself?” Shigaraki doesn't miss a beat, unphased by the possibility of you murdering your father and undeterred by your obvious incoming breakdown. 

You look to the floor, eyes focused on the rug below your bed, its curving patterns and the difference of its color against the gray cement floor. “Why?”

“If he’s not dead, if he looks for you — are you able to fight if it comes down to it?”

You can’t. You know that you can’t. You’ve never been able to hold your own against him and it eats you alive every night. So, reluctantly, you shake your head. “No.”

Tomura watches you, it feels like he’s analyzing you with every passing second. He hums, taking your answer in and standing up. “Alright.”

“That’s it?” You question, thinking there would be more to his questions. You may have killed someone and he doesn’t seem to care. Just who was this guy?

Shigaraki turns back to you, feet stopping just before your door, “Oh, yeah. We’ll get you a phone in the morning. Business only. Also, there’s a meeting tomorrow around three. Try not to be late, I hate when people are tardy.” 

You can only nod, watching as he turns away from you and leaves the room. Silence falls in his absence, a thick and loaded tension as you are left with your thoughts.

The idea of your father still being out there, alive and waiting for you makes you feel restless. Your mind races as you curl up under the sheets that were newly yours and pray sleep finds you sooner rather than later. 

—-----------

The meeting is uneventful.

It was a basic introduction, while discussing the plans and next moves for the League of Villains.

All of it feels surreal. One day you’re home wondering if the hell you lived was all your life had in store for you, and the next day you’re free. 

As free as one can be with a group of villains. 

You notice a few things in your first week amongst this new group you’ve joined. 

The first being that the league can be noisy.

It’s all you can think about as you take your place on a vacant barstool in front of the counter. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Kurogiri wastes no time, glass already prepped and ready, with two cubes of ice waiting. 

You shake your head, politely declining, “No, thank you. Alcohol’s not really my thing.” 

“Understood.” The man responds, shadows flaring around his figure like whips, “we also have nonalcoholic drinks.”

You give him a short sure and he pours you a glass of fizzy, clear soda. 

Shigaraki is a few seats down, nursing a glass of whiskey and reading the obituaries of a newspaper — easily ignoring the commotion behind you both. 

It’s hard to tune out the noise, but you try. You’ve been caught up in your thoughts all day, in the idea of your future. There is no guarantee you will be safe amongst villains, but there is nowhere else for you to go. And then there is your father. 

What really came of him? You’ve searched on the new phone Shigaraki gave you, but there are no news articles and no public meetings. If you really did kill him, if you really are free — just what does that mean for you?

“Bullshit!” 

You turn back to the group playing a game of cards. Spinner is losing against Mr. Compress for what he claims is the third time in a row. 

“C’mon Spinner, it's the rules! No, he’s cheating!” Twice and his two-toned persona calls out. The noise in the room was beginning to rise, bringing your anxiety with it. You can’t focus in here, but you don’t really know your way back to your room. 

Someone slams their hand onto the table and the sound makes you jolt, spilling a bit of your drink onto the table. 

You curse under your breath, grabbing a few napkins and cleaning the area. It’s a decent distraction and with it you try to calm your breathing down. Maybe getting lost in the depths of the hideout wouldn’t be so bad. At least no one would notice your absence. 

But someone would. 

“Hey, now,” Shigaraki starts, not taking his eyes off the newspaper in front of him. “Are you trying to give our location away? Lower your voices.”

And just like that, the tension in the room dissipates — taking your brain fog with it. 

Your shoulders relax and the group is now being subjected to Mr. Compress and his never-ending magic tricks. 

By the time night fell you were more than ready to retire to your room. 

“Kurogiri,” you start, hoping to keep your voice low enough to not draw attention. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you help me to my room again? The tunnels have still got me beat.”

To your surprise, Shigaraki raises a hand to stop Kurogiri's response. “Ah, Kurogiri, she’ll never learn if you just do it for her every time. Let me.” He offers, tone a little too flippant for something that should be an inconvenience. It feels like a trap.

You go to refuse, tell him you really don't need the help and you could probably find your own way, but he stops you — one hand held up and waving you off. You swear you could see the hint of a smile underneath the mask. 

“Don’t worry about it. We want you to feel welcomed here in the league.” He goes to stand and you follow, knowing it’s best to go along with it and not against. 

The walk is quiet and the tunnels are long. 

It's dark and decrepit while the cold air makes goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire. 

Although, you could probably owe some of your unease to your unlikely walking partner. 

You did a little bit of research on your new phone that was given to you. A little deep dive on your new leader, Tomura Shigaraki, and just who he is. For starters, he is a villain who has one of the most destructive quirks you’ve ever seen. 

Decay. 

Tomura Shigaraki is a man with many dreams, those of which supposedly align with another villain — Hero Killer Stain. You don’t know how much of that is true, but you do know that he is dangerous, volatile and not afraid to kill to carry out his dreams.  

It's odd how fate brought you together. All you’ve known is to heal others while he seems to be a professional in death and destruction. Polar opposites. 

In your research you came across an article of the USJ incident, how the Symbol of Peace had been targeted. Shigaraki was the mastermind behind it all. 

It’s almost impressive how he seems to have captivated the attention of the public.

And now the very same Shigaraki is walking you to your room, insisting it is to make sure you don't get lost. Apparently that’s what a good leader would do. 

But there is no such thing as a free lunch. 

“You know,” he starts, interrupting your trail of thoughts, the never ending loop coming to a halt at his words. “There's something about you that's really gotten under my skin.”

Your breath hitches and you wait for him to elaborate. The quiet stretches thin between you both as your steps echo along the tunnels. 

“What’s your purpose here?”

It catches you off guard. “What?”

“Everyone in the league has a goal that they are fighting towards. The goals are like power-ups. I can't figure out yours.”

He’s got you. You don't have a goal, unless he counts survival. But they’re all just trying to survive aren't they?

“We’re all fighting for something or another. Money, freedom, revenge. Those are all important things that will drive you the extra mile in a pinch.” He keeps his tone leveled, innocuous. But you knew better. This is to gauge your resolve and you weren't sure what would come of you if you failed this test.

“What are you getting at Shigaraki?” You can't help the way your eyes narrow, waiting and watching as he brings a hand to the mask on his face. 

“I’m only asking to help you out. You can’t just go with the motions forever, you know.”

This guy thinks he’s so smart, like he’s got you all figured out. It’s irritating. “I’m not!”

Your eyes are glued to him as you both come to a stop. Your hands tremble as you watch him remove the hand from his face. The abrupt action makes you falter and you absently wonder if he’s shown anyone else in the league his face. 

Even in the dim lighting of the tunnels you could still see Shigaraki’s red gaze. 

His eyes consumed you so much that you had to take a step back. And he followed — close, but far enough away. 

“You are. You did what you had to do back then, but what will you do when you’re forced to make a choice like that again?”

The chill air of the tunnels do nothing to calm the heat you feel in your body. The fear and anxiety within your mind manifesting before you in its form of trembling fingers and labored breaths. 

What would you do if you needed to choose again? 

This situation could be over just as much as it could still be lingering. Watching and waiting for you. What would you do then? 

You hate how his tone makes you sweat. 

You hate the way his words make sense.

“An animal backed into a corner has no choice but to fight.” He continues, and you stare — taking in his features in the low light. His skin is pale and there’s something about the scars on his face that make you want to reach out. To see if you could heal them.

To see if he would let you.

You don’t. All you can do is stand before him, dumbfounded and speechless as he tells you the reality you face.  

“There will come a time when your ideals are challenged. What lengths are you willing to go to maintain that freedom? How hard would you strike at those who want to keep you down and dirty like a dog?” Shigaraki tilts his head, hint of a smile gracing his features but it is not one of joy. 

“This is your life. You are the one in control. Not me, not your father — you. I don't expect you to have all the answers now, but never regret making a choice that granted you freedom.” The words make you swallow, how someone could see right through you so easily… It felt absurd.  “And don’t underestimate the lengths you should go to maintain that.”

Shigaraki looks at you for a moment — as if to make sure you’ve taken his words in and then turns away. The silence was thick as he continued his route down the hallway. You drag your feet along to follow, unable to find the words to respond.

You're both arriving in the hall where your room awaits and you bite back a sigh of relief. This trip feels like it took years. 

You both pause in front of the door, staring each other down. It's like you're on another planet completely. 

“Goodnight.” He whispers, voice low as if there were others around to wake. 

Shigaraki places the hand back on his face and brushes by your side, his steps echoing in the vacancy of the tunnel as his words reverberate in your mind.

Tomura Shigaraki is right about one thing. 

You would do anything to keep your freedom.

—------------------

The following days within the league have been mellow. 

As the resident healer you come across all kinds of injuries and scratches that don’t take much effort to heal. It gets you into a routine of some kind. 

Toga, with her minor cuts and bruises, to Spinner who had a massive gash in his arm from lack of practice with his katana. It’s all simple and easy. 

Your current patient, however, is not simple and easy.

Dabi is someone you have had little to no interaction with, the man choosing to spend his time elsewhere and makes his stance with the league known.

He couldn’t care less for any of it. 

Far too focused on his own goals and motives, Dabi tended to be out and about on his own business. 

Your hands tremble as they hover over his bloody arm. Apparently there was a fight and one of the guys caught Dabi off guard. He only managed to cut his arm before being incinerated. 

The heat of his quirk lingers before your hand as you focus your energy into restoring his arm. It was hot and you could only imagine the waves of his flames. 

He says nothing as you work, opting for a comfortable silence in the air of your room. The door is cracked allowing more light of the hallway to bleed into the space. His body is not one that you could ever fully heal. 

The burns were permanent, and with his constant quirk use you don’t think he would stay healed if you tried.

Your eyes trail up his arm and you notice the glint of the silver staples along his body. Then up towards the silver lining his face. You can't imagine how painful something like that must feel. 

Your eyes trail further up until you meet the cerulean blue of his. The sudden contact makes you instantly dart your gaze to the floor and the realization of being caught staring leaves you feeling unsettled. You’re not sure how long he’s been watching you, but it makes your stomach turn.  

Shigaraki has no use for harming you, but you didn’t know Dabi. 

You finish healing him and he stands, boots loud against the cement as he makes his way to the door. 

He pauses, opting to give you one last look. “You should really work on that.”

You know he’s not talking about your abilities. Your demeanor could use a lot of work.

You can’t help but agree.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura x reader #my works #mha x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha fanfiction

[charlottecutepie]

☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

author note: im glad some of you liked the story and left comments, im glad I can share with you this fic, hopefully you’ll like this chapter<3

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 3

Chapter 2. Birthday girl

The bright rays of the sun hit your closed eyelids, making you wince and cover yourself with a blanket. But because of the sultry summer heat, you became instantly hot. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was your own personal open diary. Being half asleep, you forgot that you were writing in it all night. In a panic, you closed it and hid it under the pillow, hoping that mom didn't come into your room.

After you got yourself in order, you went out to the living room, but mom wasn't home. She left a note saying that breakfast was on the table, and she would be back in a few hours. You sighed.

What a nice beginning of your birthday.

…

Mom returned home closer to two o'clock in the afternoon. You noticed how her, all happy and cheerful, was getting out of the purple car with bags.

You knew whose car it was. You didn't like it.

The next hours flew by quickly. Your mom all happy entered house, you rushed into her arms. A million kind words, congratulations, kisses on the forehead. And most importantly — your gift. A minimalistic purple dress, made as if specifically for your figure. It fit you perfectly, hugging your waist and breasts.

Closer to evening, you and your mom were ready. She put on makeup, not too bright, but it was unusual for you to see her with lipstick and mascara. She was wearing her favorite skirt, which she always wore for walks with you when you were little. A light beige jacket complemented her look.

“Okay, now we’ll wait for a taxi.” said woman, approaching you.

The car pulled up a few minutes later while you were standing and discussing the upcoming evening. You and mom got in the back seats and the driver started the car. The whole ride you couldn't leave the thought of where mom got the money for a taxi. And when you got out of the car, your confusion only increased, because she didn’t pay driver as he only smiled goodbye.

It appeared to the eye. The most famous pizzeria in your whole town: “Freddy Fazbear's Pizza”. It looked like an ordinary diner, but you knew why it caused such a stir among children and adults. It was because of those animatronics, which, to tell the truth, caused you strange feelings. These robots were thousands of times taller and bigger than you, and their design always made you shiver. Despite the fact that you spent your entire childhood in this pizzeria, because you had to hide from your father somewhere, you still couldn't get used to their appearance. But the children who came here, apparently, were satisfied with everything.

When you entered the pizzeria, you immediately noticed that… Nothing has changed here. It was strange, because Mr. Afton was always busy with drawings, some projects related to this place. What can you say, he literally lived here, disappearing into his office day and night. The place was filled with people, mostly little kids, who happily jumped around animatronics, trying to somehow talk to them. Most of the tables were occupied, you started looking around the pizzeria in search of an empty seat.

“And here you are!” voice of William Afton called out to you. You jumped in surprise, causing him to grin. “Oh, what happened? Did I really scare you that much?”

“Mr. Afton, good evening!” your mom shook his hand.

“Hello, [your mom’s name].” he looked at her with a smile and, turning around, went to an single table, telling you to follow him. “ I chose this place especially for our dear birthday girl.”

Your cheeks flushed from such attention. You smiled and you sat down at the table. Your mom picked up the menu, but mr. Afton shook his head.

“Excuse me, ladies, but I have reserved today's choice for myself. In honor of your birthday, we offer you the best pizza and drinks of the diner!” he clapped his hands, imitating joy. “You won’t be disappointed.”

With these words, he disappeared from sight, leaving into the crowd of children and adults. You looked at your mom, who was just glowing with an abundance of joy and happiness. She looked so carefree, happy as a child, and you laughed at the thought of who has a birthday here.

Half an hour later, a nice and friendly waitress brought a huge hot cheese pizza with an incredible flavor. Smile didn’t leave your face as the look of this pizza was so good that you noticed the envious look of the children at the near tables.

You and mom started eating. After a while, William joined you both. Sitting down at your table, he waved to the waitress, and she instantly brought you three glasses and a bottle of champagne. This surprised you, but you decided not to show it, continuing to smile.

“You know, this is a children's place and alcohol is not welcome here.” Afton began, pouring champagne into glasses. “but in honor of the coming of age of Y/n, I decided that its possible to break this rule.” he smiled, looking at you.

“Mr. Afton, you are right, such a day should definitely be celebrated!” your mother has already taken a full glass, the same thing was done by the man himself. Both adults looked at you expectantly. You laughed nervously and also took the glass in your hand.

“Happy birthday, Y/n!” exclaimed William and you clinked glasses. It was your first experience with alcohol, bringing a glass to your lips and drinking the liquid from it, you immediately winced at the taste, although the smell was quite tolerable.

You spent the remaining half hour at the same table, talking about absolutely any topic, remembering how you spent your childhood in this pizzeria, and William also talked about his eldest son. You laughed at the stories about Michael, because he was your best friend from school, and he always positioned himself as a cool, dangerous macho in front of you, and in William's stories he was just a silly boy.

Time flew by so fast that you didn't even notice how all the people disappeared. Looking at the clock, you saw that it was already late evening, which means the pizzeria closed its doors to visitors, however, this didn’t alarm either Afton or your mother. They were sitting at the table, having a nice conversation about something, until her phone rang.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

You were left alone with him. All your joy in one moment disappeared somewhere, giving way to anxiety. You began nervously touching the hem of your dress, afraid to start a conversation.

“You look absolutely gorgeous in that dress.” William broke the silence. You looked up at him and smiled sweetly, thanking him. “Yeah… after all, I have a sense of style.” he chucked, taking a sip of champagne.

“Did you buy this dress?”

“This is a gift for your coming of age.” he noticed your confused look and added: “yes, I paid for the taxi too, honey."

Those nicknames again… This stupid pinky blush appears on your cheeks again. All you can do is keep smiling stupidly.

“I really liked this dress, Mr. Afton!”

Your conversation was interrupted by your mother, running up to you with worried look on her face.

“Mr. Afton, please take Y/n home, I am urgently called to work.” then your smile instantly disappeared. You looked at Mom, pleading with her to stay. “Oh, hun, I'm sorry, but it's very urgent. I'll be home early in the morning, don't wait for me and go to bed.” after kissing your forehead one last time, she ran out of the pizzeria.

…

William's car isn't exactly small, but it's not huge either. Anxious thought didn’t leave your head that he drank alcohol and got behind the wheel, you hoped that you would get home safely. In general, ideally you should have been sitting in the back seat, but it was occupied by some things.

“Don't be so nervous, y/n." his voice sounded so calm. “You've known me since childhood, why are you so scared?”

Damn, was your anxiety really that noticeable?

“Sorry, I haven't been myself lately…”

“You’ve always been a little scared girl.” you frowned at such statements, you’re not sure whether he was mocking or showing real emotions. “I feel so sorry for you, such a hard childhood.”

At end, you arrived without incident. His car is parked next to your house. Afton took you to the porch, all this time his piercing gaze didn’t leave you.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“You're welcome, dear, and happy birthday again.”

You went inside, but when you heard his footsteps behind you, you got confused and looked at him in surprise.

“Mr. Afton, is something wrong?” you asked, watching him come into your house, closing the door. “I can wait my mom alone.”

“I see that you’re afraid to be alone.” he smiled. “Do you mind if I keep such a lovely girl company?”

#william afton smut #william afton x reader #fnaf william afton #william afton imagines #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #steve raglan x reader

[phenikas]

Spoilers for Deep Connections under cut!!!

"Rhys..." Jack stared into his eyes, afraid, still holding back. Because why shouldn't he? He has caused enough chaos in the younger man's life. He no longer felt deserving of being a part of it. "I'm-"

"Stop."

Jack silently watched as Rhys inched closer, slowly and carefully guiding his hand. God, how he wanted to wrap himself around Rhys, and yet even the slightest touch threatened his system to shut down. And when Rhys placed Jack's hand on his thigh, the fear of holding back a thousand moans and curses resurfaced.

He sucked in his breath, as if that would stop him from thinking about every possible way he wanted to touch Rhys. His other hand gripped the armrest, keeping it far enough with intention. Any and all contact was risky, especially when he did not know what was running through Rhys' head.

But then he felt it, at the back of his head. A ping.

He ignored it, still overwhelmed by Rhys' cybernetic hand laying on top of his.

Another ping. A request for... a wireless connection?

"I- Rhys, I can't let you do that," he tried, but Rhys ignored his fears, visibly moving even closer.

"I meant what I said that night," Rhys spoke in a hushed voice, his words meant for Jack and Jack only, "You thought I was out of it, and I guess it was kind of true. I was... angry. At you. At myself. And I know I should've handled that anger like an adult, but dammit, even I need to let loose sometimes. And I guess by getting shit faced, it did kind of open up a door of opportunity in my head. But what I'm trying to say is, I'm really tired of denying our feelings."

Jack gripped Rhys' thigh involuntarily, the man's words affecting him in ways he could not explain. He leaned back further into the chair, trying to gain control of the situation. He did not want to hurt Rhys more than he already has, "Don't say that. You can't say that! Didn't you see what I did?"

"Yeah. I saw everything," Rhys admitted, eyes locked with Jack's, "And it only confirmed what I was afraid of."

"That I shouldn't even be here in the first place?"

"That I keep bringing you back because I need you in my life. This was never a matter of you being useful for me or the company. I just... I hated how everything ended. Deep down, I kind of knew that there could've been something more between us, but I guess it was just a matter of-"

"Wrong place, wrong time."

"Yeah. Like it always seems to be."

"Is..." Jack began, still absolutely terrified that this could all go wrong any second now, "Is this the right time?"

"And the right place, if you let me in." Rhys leaned closer, his left hand gripping Jack's shoulder for support. "I want to feel what you feel, if that makes sense. I just... I want you, Jack."

Some out of context Deep Connections as I try to slowly get back into the groove of making renders. (I tried to be non-spoilery, even though this... might actually be a spoiler of its own? I mean, the real thing is gonna be in Rhys' POV so not really. There's like 2 chapters left between this and where the story currently is on ao3 - link here.)

#listen december was absolute hell for me thats why I was barely active anywhere #I'm kind of having a block when it comes to doing stuff in ue lately idk why #I will go back to finishing the requests I prommy #SPrenders #DeepConnectionsAU #rhack #handsome jack #rhys strongfork #borderlands #tftbl #tales from the borderlands

[vukovich]

24K9

A daily(?) kinktober Tumblr fic. Will post to AO3 on American Thanksgiving, 2023.

Harry is a K9 unit Auror. Draco is the Ministry Kennelmaster. How could that possibly lead to anything?

Tags: collaring, top Draco, sensual pet play, touch starved Harry, bathing, shaving, rescue dog feels, other tags TBA, maybe dark draco ending?, maybe werewolves?, definitely coming untouched though, just blasting rope man

--

Chapter One

“I assure you, Auror Potter,” drawled the Patronus, speaking even before it found its full form, “there is nothing wrong with your partner.”

Malfoy’s tone was patronising, as though he were telling Harry that the monsters under his bed weren’t real, and to go back to sleep.

Next to Harry’s desk, his ‘partner’ had managed to catch his tail and was currently gnawing on it with nothing short of ardour.  K9 Auror Wurst, aka RottWurst, clamped down on his fluffy tail so hard, Harry swore he heard a crunch.

The bright fog condensed into a direwolf the size of a modest pony.  It was the perfect symbol for Draco Malfoy.  A pale, leggy, sharp-toothed relic of another time.

“And I assure you,” Harry spat, “Kennelmaster Malfoy, that this mutt’s fucking touched in the head.”

The mutt in question was eighty-plus pounds of Rottweiler-poodle abomination.  He looked like a St Bernard had dug into an avalanche, missed the humans, and hit a thousand-volt power line instead.  The curly white fur on his belly was caked with mud, and his brown muzzle still had bits of grass clippings on it.  The rest of him was black, save his brown eyebrows and speckled ears.

“He keeps alerting to sex magic, not dark magic.  It’s fucking embarrassing.  Dragged me across Hyde Park.  I had to use a Confundus on him to get him back to the office.”

The direwolf was so still that Harry blinked twice to make sure the shape wasn’t burned into his retinas.  It was a bloody showboat of a Patronus.

It was so bright that it brought out the dinginess of Harry’s office.  The yellow carpet had a pale brown trail between the door and Harry’s desk chair.  The corners of the ceiling had cobwebs, and the baseboards held an unhealthy amount of dust.

The fresh dog piss on the floor didn’t help things.

“I mean, he’s not worthless,” Harry added.  “But Robards said he can’t reassign him to Vice.  That he doesn’t have that authority.  So it must be you who has to do it.”

It was a little risky to bypass Robards the way he had, contacting Malfoy directly.  He probably should have made an appointment with his assistant or something.

But he’d been angry, so he’d pulled an interdepartmental priority Howler out of his desk and sent it.

There was probably a DMLE protocol for contacting a member of the Wizengamot.  There was a DMLE protocol for everything but wiping his arse.  Actually, they probably had one for that, too.

Harry blinked again.  His eyes were dry.  He was on hour seven of a twelve-hour shift.  After this, he’d get another coffee.

The direwolf shifted its weight, then leaned back, hindquarters high, in a deep stretch.  Its paws spread out in front of it.

Harry wondered if Malfoy was actually stretching.  And what that might look like.

It’d been years since he’d seen Malfoy in person.  Just in the papers, and only in the background of Wizengamot photos.  He’d been called to his Wizengamot seat the day after his thirtieth birthday, having met the minimum age.  They hadn’t called Hermione to hers until she was thirty-two.  She’d die mad about that.

The direwolf laid down, then yawned.

Harry yawned.

Wurst yawned.  Then farted.

Harry thought to check the time.  2:30 AM, according to his wristwatch.  He’d been on the clock for fourteen hours.  Not seven.

“Shit,” Harry said.

He’d woken a member of the Wizengamot at 2:30 AM.  And an important one.  

The direwolf sighed and tucked its muzzle under its paw.  Harry held his breath.  Maybe Malfoy would fall asleep.

Maybe he’d doze off, and he’d think he dreamt he got a Howler in the middle of the night from a burnout beat cop at least six rungs below him.  Maybe.

The direwolf sighed again, then drifted away like will-o'-the-wisps on the wind.

Maybe Malfoy wouldn’t report this.

Maybe.

Maybe Robards wouldn’t kill him.

He drummed his fingers on his desk.  If he did get written up, it’d be his sixth this year.  Two of them were for failing to meet dress code, but the shaving regulations were stupid, and the hygiene one was just weird.

Still.  

Wurst looked at him.  He looked at Wurst.

Nothing would happen.  His talk with Malfoy had only lasted a few seconds.  He’d think it was a dream.

It would be fine.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry told Wurst, ignoring the sweat on his palms.

Wurst’s nostrils flared, and then an ivory envelope slid under the door.  It sat on the grimy carpet for a moment, then folded itself into a swan.  With a few wingbeats, it landed on Harry’s desk and unfolded itself.

Inside was a business card.

Draco L Malfoy Wizengamot Member, Kennelmaster Warminster BA13 4SH UK

“Shit,” Harry said.

He flipped the card over.  On the back was an appointment date and time.  Tomorrow.

“Fuck.”

Robards was going to kill him.

--

#drarry #kinktober #but like DIY kinktober #kinktober parallel play #you can hide anything in the tags #nobody can stop you #my tags are so big because they're full of secrets #24k9

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 5)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 14.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, fluff, love, smut, mutual pining, Character development, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Hey Guess What) , Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping

Note: Ok guys, here we are. Only 4 hours late and with no PiV because I'm a lying bitch but I will write a oneshot if we want it. Holy shit, but can I say that this is the first "series" that I have finished writing. I talk a big fucking game about writing fics for so long, but man those were LONG FICS that I abandoned hundreds of thousands of words in, or they were all oneshots that now only live on my old computer. The ending, I hope, is not disappointing, but I literally didn't want it to be left up to interpretation. Thank you @ghost-proofbaby for tamping my insecurities down with this one. If I am the brains of this series, you for sure are the heart. And let's not forget @shiftingtherain once again for inspiring this whole thing to begin with.

This chapter is unedited...but I am tired and sweaty and happy. So have fun.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"You're lucky I don't have to--shit!" Robin's eyes went as Steve opened the door to the trailer and she got a view of his--Eddie's--face. She reached out, as if to touch the swollen bruising, but second guessed herself and her hands immediately found the straps of her backpack. "What happened to you?"

"Eddie happened," Steve grumbled miserably.

"Eddie?!" Robin shrieked and Steve immediately shushed her and swatted her into the trailer. He pointed to Wayne, who was--thankfully--dead asleep and snoring on the fold-out bed, then ushered her back towards Eddie's room.

He'd felt...somewhat guilty early on when he realized that Wayne slept out there on the uncomfortable fold-out while "Eddie" had a room and a bed, and had tried to offer to swap, but Wayne grumbled something along the lines of "if I told you once, I told you a thousand times."

"Eddie did this?" Robin asked once the bedroom door was shut behind her. "Did he lose his mind?! Why would he punch you? You two are supposed to be...seeing through one another's eyes and all that shit. Working together to get back into your own bodies."

Steve felt his stomach drop.

He had stewed on it all night Friday and all day Saturday as he hid in Eddie's room and wallowed in shame. The sick sort of triumph he felt when he got that response from Eddie--as impulsive and fueled by anger as his own words had been--had faded and as the mottled colors began stitching together and spreading across his skin, the realization of just what he had said had settled in. And with every moment that the ache in his face became more pronounced, his guilt grew.

"I...I might have...fucked up," he admitted. Robin's expression went from one of shock to one of annoyance, and Steve immediately launched into a recap of Friday night. Hell...of everything that he'd been keeping from her.

Because, truth be told, he had been.

Steve knew that Robin was more in touch with her emotions, or rather...acknowledged them at the very least instead of simply ignoring them. She was smart as a whip and when she made you face the truth, it stung just as badly. He had told her that he'd been getting tutoring sessions...just not from who. Every time he brought up Nancy...well...Robin wasn't her biggest fan. Really not because of anything that she had done...except break Steve's heart...but because he couldn't get over her no matter how hard he tried.

And if he was being honest with himself, he hadn't...really tried too hard.

Steve hoped Robin would see things from his perspective, though. Her expression remained stony as he explained everything, but her emotions shone through her eyes as he poured his heart out. As he admitted to all the mistakes he made.

"I don't...I don't really believe those things," Steve explained truthfully. "But when I get hurt? When I'm desperate and overwhelmed? I just...lash out. You know this. And there's so much I've had to keep inside and this whole experience.

"Rob...you've gotta believe me, it's been shit. Eddie's right, his life is hard...I really don't know how he does it but...damn my life sucks too alright? So I figured, if I could have one thing, just one thing, to make it all worth it...this might be it.

"But I don't know why...why he wouldn't just let me have this," he concluded and ran a hand over his face, wincing as he pressed into his black eye.

"Alright, you're not just a dingus, you're a real bonehead," Robin rolled her eyes. "You and Eddie both! This whole situation isn't some treat for either of you, it's supposed to be a lesson."

"I know that!" Steve threw his hands out to gesture at himself. "But I'm still Eddie and Eddie's still me. So what lesson? What is selfless love?"

"Because you haven't...you haven't..." Robin sighed and ran her hands through her bangs. "Maybe we're working backwards? We're trying to find...selfless love. But...but the spell said there was a prize reflected in each other's eyes. What about self love? Gotta love yourself before you love someone else right? Or whatever bullshit those self help people say on the Oprah show."

"That's bullshit Rob, I don't love myself," Steve grumbled. "In fact, I hate myself...a lot."

"Ok ok," she pointed at him. "See and you thought Eddie had it all, that he loved his life. You told me so yourself. You were jealous because he had it all."

"But he doesn't."

"And he thought you had it all? But now he's realizing you don't," she reasoned.

The more Robin talked and rambled, the more she made sense. She snapped her fingers and waved her hands around, as though willing the solution into her head.

"Ok," Steve sighed. "We've figured out that no...we don't actually like being one another...so what gives? Why haven't we switched back?"

Robin gasped and grabbed Steve by the shoulders to shake him.

"It's Nancy! You idiot!" she hissed.

"Nancy?" Steve frowned. "Nancy's not stuck in someone else's body, I am."

"No!" Robin groaned. "You were on the right track but you started thinking with your dick when you thought that you could get back with Nancy!"

Steve began to fidget.

Was it...could that have been the answer all along?

He refused to believe it.

"We loved each other!"

"But you loved her more than she loved you," Robin explained, mirroring words he had once confided in her right back to him. "And you refused to let her go. And now you would quite literally be someone else entirely to get her back."

"She doesn't love Steve," he signed. "But she might love Eddie."

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Robin stared at him, dumbfounded. "You are not Eddie Munson. You have to let her go. You have to accept yourself, and if that means letting Nancy go, then it's the right thing to do. You need to apologize to Eddie...and you need to fix this."

Steve's mind raced; he knew, deep down, it was all true but...he just couldn't accept that it was just that easy.

"Ok, ok, b-but there has to be another way," Steve attempted to deflect and Robin groaned and rolled her eyes. "No, wait, hear me out here. I...I could...help him get a job at the dealership--"

"Not gonna help when you are still Eddie and you don't know shit about cars," Robin reasoned.

Steve pushed past her and dug through the pile of notebooks and textbooks on Eddie's dresser.

"I could get him to graduate," Steve bargained.

"I think you need to give it up," Robin rolled her eyes. "You know what you need to do."

"No, I can do other selfless things, I can, I can..."

Steve and Robin went back and forth, verbally jousting with excuses and explanations, as he flipped through Eddie's school notebooks. He glanced over half-finished essay drafts and barely legible chemistry equations. As though there would be some great solution to this problem amongst the countless algebra equations and--

"Hang on," Steve held his hand out to silence Robin. He turned and showed her the notebook. "Look at this."

"What is it?" She took the notebook from him and they flipped through the notebook together.

Your name. Over and over. Your initials and Eddie's. Little heart drawings and daggers and--what Steve assumed to be--princesses and knights. And then towards the end...a bunch of pen scribbles obscuring the little fantasies with the oh-so-familiar sigil drawn beneath.

It had been a notebook that Steve had scooped into his arms along with piles of Eddie's laundry and other knick knacks in an attempt to tidy up the trailer a little bit for his own sanity Wayne. To clear away some of the clutter. Especially after he and Eddie had torn the trailer apart looking for the occult book that one night, something that felt like ages ago now.

Steve felt a kind of triumph at this. Justification.

What a fucking hypocrite.

So it wasn't just him that was holding up their inevitable switch back, it was Eddie too. Eddie had a crush on you, and now he had gotten exactly what he wanted by dating you for Steve.

Except...

Except Eddie sort of always seemed to be worried about you. Worried about you finding out the truth, wondered how upset you might be if you did.

"Shit..." Steve sighed.

"Ok so maybe Eddie is as much to blame here as you are," Robin rationalized. "I told him...he needed to tell her the truth, that she would be heartbroken. I didn't realize that he..."

"No...it's..." Steve struggled. "Shit...shit."

Because it all made sense. Steve hadn't thought about the details, really, but he knew how it felt to have feelings for someone who you couldn't have...who didn't like you back. And while he happily planned to try Nancy back...Eddie...and you...

"Shit!"

He had to talk to Eddie.

"Hey Steve. Uhh..." You twirled the phone cord around your finger as you stammered into the receiver; the speech that you had practiced in your head was completely forgotten as you got the Harrington's answering machine.

"Listen, you left pretty quickly last night and I was just wondering if everything was alright? Or...or maybe I did something to upset you? B-because...we are having a good day, I just...if I did something...I'm sorry. Anyway...uhm...I'll try calling back later...or I'll...yeah...bye."

You slammed the phone as you hung up and covered your face with a groan.

You were up all night--heartbroken and embarrassed.

Steve left...he ran out of your house. One minute...he was...well he was...

You'd had a wonderful date and you had been...so focused, so in the moment as he...gave you the most intense pleasure you'd ever felt...and he just left.

You had been shocked. Barely clothed, legs made of jelly--whole body made of jelly--stunned into silence as he pushed himself away from you and pulled his clothes back on. When you called his name, he looked sick to his stomach.

His eyes clamped shut, shook his head, and then ran.

You'd pushed yourself out of bed, stumbled after him while calling his name, but he was gone. You could practically hear the tires screeching as he tore down the street.

Something happened. You must have done something. It was the only explanation that made sense. Everything had been going great and then it wasn't, and he looked so...disgusted.

So it must have been you. You wracked your brain for some idea...

Did you...did you make a weird noise? Did you...moan too loud or something?

...until a sense of dread overcame you.

Had you said Eddie's name? And not Steve's?

No...no...you couldn't have. Because as much as Eddie kept popping up in your thoughts...you knew that you were with Steve. Your entire head and heart were filled with Steve Harrington.

So why did something still feel wrong when you thought about it now?

Your mom got home late and had trudged off to bed; she barely glanced into your room to make sure you were asleep, and you had half the urge to stop her before she scuttled off. But you knew she would grill you if she saw the tear tracks reflecting the streetlight outside of your room.

You couldn't tell her about this.

And of course, you didn't tell your mom everything but...you really could have used a little bit of comfort. Her occasional words of wisdom that seemed to make everything better.

It was as you lay in your bed that you thought about the other times you'd gone to her, the times you'd cry after a mishap that your child brain couldn't quite comprehend. All the hurt in the world because of a doll that wasn't shared, or some painful words that were thrown around haphazardly.

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding," she always said. "You can talk in the morning, and it'll all be ok."

Except it wasn't ok. And Steve hadn't picked up. And you felt...sick.

You would have gone over to the Harrington's house or Family Video if you didn't have to get to work...to apologize in person and...

And what? What if he never wants to see you again? What if this just pushes him right back into the arms of Nancy Wheeler?

You knew that the insidious little voice in your head was just...just praying on your insecurities. It was irrational, but a fear was a fear. And you didn't want to lose someone you loved as wonderful as Steve.

You took a calming breath and made a plan...you had work today and class all day tomorrow, which meant if Steve didn't call back by the time you got out of work...you might not even going to see him until Tuesday night at the earliest if he was going to hang out with Eddie and the--

Eddie.

Your stomach lurched with nerves.

He and Eddie were friends, it was a fact that you were trying to move past. And as much as it anguished you to see Eddie...you couldn't lose Steve. So maybe...just maybe if Eddie didn't already know what happened and refused to look at you, he would know how to fix this.

You couldn't wait for Tuesday night.

You needed to fix this today.

"There you go sweetie," Mary cooed as she placed a mug of chicken soup on the bedside table and then brushed the hair out of "Steve's" face. "And I ran out and got crackers and ginger ale if you're not feeling up to soup."

"Uh-huh. Great. Thanks mom," Eddie muttered and stared numbly at the plaid-papered walls. If he didn't look at her, if he focused on the tense whooshing sound in his ears instead of her voice, he could pretend that it was his mom taking care of him.

Truthfully, he didn't want to be here, pretending to be sick. After he'd made his escape from your house, he realized he had nowhere to go where he could ground himself in...well...in himself. The one place he wanted--his stupid, ramshackle trailer in Forest Hills...home--was still inaccessible to him. So was his other home, you, as he had just...left you. Ran. Like a coward.

While he didn't want to be stuck in the Harrington's house with Mary up his ass for hours, he knew it was the only place he could really let himself become numb without interference from the outside world. So Eddie resigned himself to another day of being Steve Harrington and allowed Steve's mother to coddle him. The cold reception he had been receiving from Mary was immediately replaced with gentle care that made Eddie feel like a kid again, in those carefree days between his father's incarceration and his mother's death.

Knowing how deceitful she was, though...how willing she was to manipulate her son...well, needless to say that Eddie wasn't really buying the sincerity of Mary's behavior. He wished that it was genuine--for Steve's sake, even though he was still pissed at Steve--but in the case that it wasn't, he was not letting up on his demands.

Chicken soup from the deli, snacks from the grocery store, and some time in the house alone so he could smoke a joint in peace and let the high calm his troubles for a little while.

"You know," Mary sat down on the edge of the bed and Eddie groaned, which immediately got her to change her mind and remain standing. "I called the video store to let them know you were having a sick day, and that manager. Kevin? Keith? He was incredibly rude."

"Yeah," Eddie responded as Mary continued, disinterested in making a conversation now that he had started to come down from his high.

"And speaking of rude," she scoffed. "There's this...rude girl who's called twice this morning already while I was out; she left messages. Is this the girl who you've been going out with Stevie?"

Eddie's interest piqued and his spirits lifted just the slightest, then fell again, when he realized it must have been you.

Now, after the panic had subsided, he knew that he had messed up. That he shouldn't have run. Fuck...he couldn't finish what he started but at the very least he could have...stayed and told you the truth. Told you everything. But hindsight was 20-20, or so they said, and in the heat of the moment...running from the reality that he wasn't himself and that you would never love him seemed like the only thing he could do.

Eddie didn't quite know how to feel about the fact that you were calling him now. It wasn't that he didn't want to see you. No, he...he only wanted to fix what he had messed up. But...he just couldn't stand to see you look at Steve with that look in your eyes. Hear you say his name, when all Eddie wanted was for you to want him.

"...sounded so unsure of herself. That's not the kind of girl you want to attach yourself to; you need someone who knows what they want and will go after it. Not to mention that she apologized. Said she hurt your feelings. Is this why you're sick? What did she do? I'll have a talk with her mother and make sure she never calls you aga--"

Mary's heated speech was interrupted by the rapid ringing of the doorbell. She tried to ignore it but it kept ringing.

"My God, if we're not answering it means we're busy," she groused under her breath and turned on her heel. "Will some people never learn patience."

Eddie said a quick thank you to whatever deities he could think of for getting Mary away from him, and he closed his eyes.

Back to the rest, back to his wallowing. Back to the...sound of rocks hitting the window, what the hell?

Eddie's eyes shot open and he rolled over to stare at the window, and sure enough, tiny rocks kept hitting the glass. Over and over.

Eddie pushed himself out of bed and crossed the distance. He briefly wondered if you might be out there, if you had tried calling with no answer. But he had negotiated with Benny to give you a day off yesterday, so he knew there was no way you weren't at work today.

He opened the window and leaned out, only to find the surprise of his life when he "Eddie" himself...or rather...the real Steve was standing in the backyard, staring up at him.

Eddie felt a strange sense of satisfaction seeing the swollen black eye on his own face. Much more than the memory of him giving it to himself conjured. That he gave to Steve?

Fuck this wasn't getting any easier to sort out in his head. And there was no way that it was gonna be fixed any time soon.

"What do you want?" Eddie called down to Steve. "Come to rub it in my face that you have a real date with Nancy tomorrow night and that I was wrong?"

"I came to apologize," Steve called back. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No, I'm serious. I fucked up. I said some nasty things and I regret it. I shouldn't have said them. I was angry."

"A lot of true things are said in anger," Eddie sneered at him. "And that wasn't the first time you said some shit like that."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Steve sighed. "You don't have to forgive me, but...fuck I have to make this right because--"

"Save your breath," Eddie rolled his eyes. "I don't wanna hear it."

He could only imagine what happened that would get Steve to change his tune so quickly.

He tried to make a move on Nancy and she told him to get lost because she had a boyfriend already, regardless of what Harrington Charm Steve thought he possessed.

Or she just laughed in his face because who in the world would ever want to date Eddie Munson.

He winced, knowing it was a little too harsh, but his insecurities would win for another day or two. As eager as he was to get back into his own body, to go home, Steve could stand to deal with the fallout of whatever mess he made. Eddie would just stay in bed until Steve was as tired of this shit as he was. Then maybe they can try to work together and fix this again.

He was about to tell Steve to fuck off, when the patio door opened and Mary's voice echoed across the yard.

"Excuse me, this is trespassing!"

Steve was frozen, like a deer in the headlights, at the appearance of his mother.

Steve loved his mom, don't get him wrong, but sometimes...

Sometimes he just didn't understand how she could be sweet and loving one moment, and then an absolute misery the next.

It had been a recent discovery, this sharpness to her. In fact, for the longest time, he never considered that she was anything other than a happy and loving PTA mom, well-respected by friends and neighbors.

Growing up, she did everything Steve thought moms were happy to do. Go to PTA meetings, plan summer barbecues, come to all of the games for the sports he played, and cook elaborate dinners for the whole family to enjoy. But as his dad stayed later and later at the dealership, he was less present at family dinners or available for family outings on the weekends, creating Mommy and Stevie time. And as Steve got older, he preferred to hang out with his friends and run around Hawkins then stay at home alone with his mom.

He saw the light start to disappear in her eyes and he just...thought nothing about it. Didn't realize that he was also one to contribute to it.

Tommy H. had made a joke once about his dad having an affair, and Steve just...figured that must be the case for his dad too. He must have been, which is why...why he and mom didn't smile at each other much any more, why birthday gifts had become more elaborate and expensive, why both of his parents traveled together when his dad had conventions and auto shows.

And Steve defended her, always. She was an active member of the community, she went out with friends, and volunteered at the church. She did her best to take care of anything and everything the family needed. Protected them.

Until she didn't.

Until the one afternoon that the strip mall had lost power and Family Video closed early, and Steve came home to find his mom and Mayor Kline together.

All of the care and the sweetness and the motherly love vanished. Steve had suggested she talk to dad, if she was so unhappy...so lonely...but she had spat and swore and cursed his father, claimed that he was the one who ruined things. Ruined her happiness. Ruined their family. But once she saw the hurt expression on Steve's face, she begged him to let it go, to forget about what he saw. Promised that she would do better, she would talk to dad and fix it. For him.

But it happened again, and again. Steve hadn't seen the mayor in their house but he saw the evidence of him. The tie pin left in the bowl that they dropped their car keys in, an extra wine glass next to his mother's on the coffee table. Everything she did felt...forced. Every time he would notice something off, the evidence of all the things she did around the house, for him, for the family, became more noticable. As though she tried to buy his forgiveness rather than actually fix the problems with their family.

He tried to confront her about it again, ask if she had talked to dad. She had yelled and complained and blamed him for wanting to hurt the family. And that was when she offered to give him his allowance back.

Blood Money. Judas. The words echoed in his head, some remnant of some Sunday school lesson that had faded over the years, as he tucked the stack of bills into his wallet.

He didn't know who it was that he betrayed by making this deal...his father, himself, maybe even his mother...but he knew it wasn't right.

So he kept it all inside. Ignored it and let it fester. Kept his mouth shut.

Until now.

Steve looked around the yard, at the big house and the pool, at "Steve" leant out of the window with his good looks and expensive pajamas. He thought about his dad at the dealership, working hard to give this all to them. And finally looked at his mother, who made sure everything looked pristine, only for it all to be festering and rotten just below the surface.

He might have towered over her but couldn't feel any smaller as she glared at him. Glared at "Eddie."

"I, uh," Steve cleared his throat and held his hands out to show that he wasn't doing any harm. "I just came by to talk to Ed--Steve! To talk to Steve."

"So you ding dong ditch and then you trespass into my yard?" Her brow raised in disbelief.

"It's cuz I knew you weren't gonna let me in," he explained.

"If I won't let you in, that means you shouldn't be on my property. Period." his mom sneered at him. "I know you, Eddie Munson; you spray painted my car a few months ago."

Steve glanced up at Eddie, and Eddie simply shrugged as though he hadn't been the one to do it. Which was funny, because in actuality...it had been Steve who maybe had gotten a bit too creative after one too many beers at Heather Holloway's Back to School kegger.

"So what if I did!" Steve shrugged, technically owning up to it.

"That's enough for me to call Chief Hopper right now!" she shrieked, and Steve could see her practically vibrating.

Steve knew that calling the police was sort of his mom's MO. But he wasn't phased.

Probably because he was in Eddie's body and not his own. But maybe it was because he was in Eddie's body that he also felt a bit of courage building.

"You're really going to call the cops on your son's friend?" Steve laughed at her.

"My son wouldn't hang around someone like you."

"Oh yeah? Tell her about Hellfire Club, Stevie! Or how you've been coming to Corroded Coffin shows!" Steve called up to Eddie, whose eyes went wide as he was put on the spot.

"Steven!" his mother turned and glared at Eddie now. "Is this true?"

Eddie stammered and glared at Steve, who didn't give him the chance to respond.

"What? You're surprised that your precious son would want to spend time with a drug dealing, no good, piece of trailer trash?" He practically quoted his mother word for word, having recalled the few times she had encountered Eddie out in Hawkins.

His mom spun around to face him, but he continued.

"Come on, Mare, you don't think that I could be a worse influence on him than you are. With your lying and canoodling with Larry." His voice went falsetto. "Oh Larry, you know how to make a girl feel like she's 20 again. Barf."

"How do you know about that?"

"You're bribing and manipulating your son, you're ruining your family, and on top of that, you're a huge bitch."

Steve felt the weight on his shoulders get lighter with each word that escaped his mouth. He also saw his mother's anger start manifesting physically. She was turning red, shaking, breathing heavily. He knew that he needed to make his escape before she really did call the cops. Or hit him with a shovel or something.

"Wayne's sick," Steve called up to Eddie and Eddie's eyes went wide.

"Who's Wayne? Is that another one of your little drug dealer friends? Get out of my yard. Get off my property!"

As Steve ran from his parents' backyard and away from his screaming mother, his mind raced. He knew he shouldn't lie to Eddie but...desperate times called for desperate measures. He needed to get Eddie alone so they could talk, reconcile what happened. So he could convince him that this...that this was exactly what they needed.

He knew that he needed to rally the troops if he was going to fix what he broke.

It took hours for Eddie to get out of the house.

As soon as Wayne's name had left Steve's mouth, he felt like he was doused in ice water. Every nerve was on fire, his body itched to leave and it was unfair that he had to be subjected to Mary's tirade as soon as Steve had run and Mary returned to the house.

All he wanted was to get into the car and race to Forest Hills to see his uncle, but instead, he had to listen to her speech about dangerous criminals and vandals and making better life choices. She even tried to lecture him about taking classes at the community college to get away from the deadbeats who hung around Family Video.

Jesus Christ, lady, way to kick a man while he's down.

Once she was done with her lecture, she marched him straight back to bed so he could get the rest he needed.

Eddie knew he'd have to make a miraculous escape and he waited and waited for Mary to settle in the living room or get on the phone or something. His mind raced in the meantime as he thought of all the ways that Wayne might be sick.

Was he sick sick? He'd been sick a grand total of once in Eddie's life, in 79, when a nasty flu bug swept through the whole town. He remembered wishing that he knew how to make soup other than from the can, but when he'd brought Wayne the bowl of microwaved Campbell's, the look of pride on his uncle's face was enough to relieve him of his guilt.

Maybe he'd gotten hurt at the plant? He always made fun of his uncle's age, calling him old timer and geezer and whatnot, but he was getting older and he needed better glasses than the readers he got off the little revolving rack in Melvalds. Maybe he cut himself...or needed stitches. Or threw his back out?

Eddie thought back to his initial idea of getting him a job at the Harrington's dealership, something he never acted on and suddenly felt dread that whatever fate had befallen Wayne had only happened because he hadn't acted fast enough.

Hours passed by and he waited. Mary had brought him a grilled cheese with the crusts cut off, she'd done several loads of laundry, and even ushered him into the bathroom to take a shower. But before he knew it, she had ducked her head into his room.

"Stevie, are you feeling ok?" she asked gently. "I need to run out for a little while. Run a few errands."

Eddie glanced out the window, at the way the sky darkened, and then back at Mary who was dressed a little too nicely for errands.

Nice to know she's going to knock boots with Mayor Douchebag while her son is sick.

"Ok mom," Eddie forced a smile. "Be...safe."

"There's more soup in the fridge, if you want any more while I'm gone."

"Sure."

She turned and left without so much as an I love you, and as soon as Eddie heard her car peel out of the driveway, he was on his feet. He threw on a pair of jeans and one of the t-shirts he had gotten with you the day before, and then ran down the stairs.

"Fuck, she took my keys?" he groaned as he noticed the little bowl on the table in the hallway was conspicuously empty. "Well, bad news that her son is actually a criminal drug dealer deadbeat vandal who knows how to Hotwire a car."

Eddie found tools in the dusty toolbox in the garage, and then strolled out to Steve's BMW. It was a shame that he would cause damage to the vehicle--it had been a nice change from his van, even though he missed the van immensely--but desperate times. He struggled for a moment, the imported car a little trickier than the clunkier Chevys and Fords his dad had taught him on, but he got it in the end.

For the first time in his life, he was a little thankful to his father for giving him some kind of skill, as unsavory as it might have been. Because if he didn't have it, there would be no way for him to see Wayne right now.

Maybe being Eddie Munson wasn't such a bad thing after all.

He pulled into the trailer park and the car skidded to a stop beside the van. Even Wayne's car wasn't here, which meant that Steve probably had to pick Wayne up from the plant.

Or the hospital.

He jogged up the steps and threw open the door...

"What the fuck?" Eddie exclaimed.

...only to find Steve, Robin, Lucas, Dustin, and Will sitting around the living room with notebooks and homework and DnD mini figs. The TV was on, the volume down low, with a stack of videos piled in front of it, and there were cans of soda on every available surface.

"Took you long enough," Dustin announced and rolled his eyes. The other kids started chiming in.

"We started working on homework when you didn't show up right away."

"And Mike's birthday campaign."

"It's been hours!" Robin exclaimed. "Keith is gonna have my ass too, I called off, and you called off too. Which means he's working open to close. And you know how he hates that. Er...um...well one of you knows." Robin glanced back and forth between Eddie and Steve.

Eddie looked around again. The trailer was cleaned, he could hear a load of laundry clunking around in the washing machine, there was a stack of frozen pizzas laid out on the counter in the kitchen, one in the oven making the trailer smell enticing.

But no Wayne.

They tricked him.

"Alright, what the fuck is going on here?" Eddie asked, then zeroed in on Steve. "You lied to me. You used my uncle as bait and you lied to me."

"I'm sorry, I had to," Steve got to his feet and sighed. "You weren't listening to me...and then my mom..."

"You lied to me to get me to come over for some kind of pizza party? I didn't know you were that desperate for friends, Harrington," Eddie asked incredulously.

"No!" Robin interjected. "He lied because the two of you need to settle this once and for all. You haven't been entirely truthful about this whole situation either, Eddie."

"What do you mean? I've told you everything."

"Not everything." Steve pulled a spiral notebook off the coffee table and threw it at him. Eddie's stomach dropped as he realized what he caught. "Open it."

"I don't have to do shit," Eddie feigned anger and threw the notebook over his shoulder.

"No, because you already know what's in it," Steve jeered. "You have a crush on my girlfriend and you've been using this to your advantage this whole time. Don't look at the kids, they already know. I told them." Eddie had glanced at Dustin, Lucas, and Will, half expecting to see betrayal or deception in their eyes, but they looked sympathetic.

"Listen," Steve went on. "I know how it feels to have a crush on someone and think that you don't stand a chance with them. We all do." He gestured at the others, and they all nodded.

Eddie felt uncomfortable under their heavy stares, and it sent his skin crawling.

He knew that he wasn't alone in having a crush on someone; unrequited love had a definition for a reason. He didn't understand why they wanted him here? Why were they confronting him like this? Did they blame him for the spell? He already knew it was his fault.

"So what? Why am I here, Harrington?" Eddie finally asked.

"To work it out once and for all!" Will explained. "There's only two options here."

"There was more to the riddle," Lucas elaborated. "More than just the translation."

"You both want to be with someone that...otherwise wouldn't want to be with you," Robin continued. "The real you."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better about myself, Buckley?" Eddie sneered at her.

"Leave Robin alone," Steve sighed. "She's the one who figured this all out. The prize...reflected in another's eyes...when I saw that notebook I thought that it was...something tangible. Popularity, or...or...friends...or a girl. But the real thing is love."

"Yeah, Selfless Love," Eddie shrugged. "Selfless love will change you back. What about it?"

"But in order to love selflessly, you have to love yourself first. And even if you find it hard to believe, both you and Steve...struggled with that. You thought...you couldn't be loved by the person you wanted the most. You didn't have the kind of life the other had. The love you thought the other had," Robin offered.

"So...there's really only two ways about this." She continued. "We all work together to help you two to learn to love yourselves. It's gonna take some time, because you clearly still hate yourself Eddie, and Steve...yeah he's not gonna admit to it because he's shallow--sorry Steve--but...he struggles to love himself because everyone else leaves him. Shut up Steve, you know I'm right.

"Or... you suck it up and deal with it. Steve stays Eddie, and he shoots his shot with Nancy. And you stay Steve, and you get to keep your honey. And honestly, this needs to be the outcome if we can't get you to change back with the self love thing.

"But it means that the two of you need to work together," Robin concluded. "Because it isn't gonna be easy."

"I'm willing to try if you are." Steve held out his hand to shake. "I mean...it's a win win no matter how you slice it."

Eddie stared at Steve's offered hand and then at all the others' open faces.

He was...touched that they were all here and willing to help. He truly was. And he knew that it was a gesture of good faith from Steve, trying to work together. They'd almost become friends the past few weeks, trying to solve this situation...what he had told Mary earlier had been true. Hell...Eddie was almost proud of Steve for standing up to her the way he did.

But to accept that offer meant that there was nothing to lose. And Eddie had already lost himself.

"Fuck you," he swatted Steve's hand away with his own. "I'm not shaking to that."

There was a collective commotion of "what's" and "why's" from everyone and Steve looked lost.

"What's your deal?" Steve asked.

"What's my deal? What's your deal?" Eddie laughed. "You think I'm gonna believe that you want to help me love myself, when just the other night you listed off every reason under the sun that I'm not worthy of love or friends, and that I would live and die alone. Yeah, real great act there, Harrington."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Eddie.

"So you don't want to be me and you don't want to be you, then who do you want to be?"

"I didn't say I didn't want to be me, I just said you're fooling yourself if you think I'm gonna let you help me want to be me. Besides, don't you think it's still a little too convenient that it's only a win-win for you?"

"How is it not also a win for you?" Steve questioned. "You either get your life back or you get the girl of your dreams. Same for me."

"What if I want both."

"Then I say you're the one being selfish here."

"Come on guys," Dustin sighed. "Fighting isn't going to solve anything. You need to come to an agreement and--"

"No, th-th-there's...there's nothing to agree on!" Eddie stammered. "Except the only thing there is to agree on. You can't always get what you want, right? Isn't that the way the song goes? Rolling Stones? We're trying to make a deal to find a way to make the best of either situation, but neither of us is gonna be fully happy in any scenario. I learn to love myself and what? The girl I love doesn't love me either, so what's the point? You get the girl you want, but you need to live with the fact that she doesn't love you.

"But could you live with yourself day in and day out if she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were? If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve? Could you live with Nancy Wheeler screaming out my name as you make love to her?"

Robin and the kids all started groaning and making gagging noises at the last sentence, but Eddie knew he hit a nerve in Steve as he had the decency to look a little sad.

"Don't you see I love her, but she doesn't love me. And she never will. So if I had to choose, no...I don't want to be Steve Harrington anymore, I want to be Eddie Munson again, because even if she never loved me, I wouldn't have to be face to face with the fact that she loved someone else, every day, for the rest of my life."

Eddie finished his shouting and his shoulders heaved with his labored breath, and as he realized what he just said, he turned on his heel to get to the door.

He didn't want to run away from this, but he felt like he had no choice but to run. This had been a mistake. He should have left as soon as he realized that Wayne wasn't sick. Back to the Harrington's where he could suffer in silence until he was ready to face the reality of being stuck in Steve's body.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve shouted and jumped across the living room to stop him, as Eddie's hand turned the knob. "You can't just lea--"

Eddie was about to turn and start yelling at Steve--he couldn't tell him what he could and couldn't do--but as the door to the trailer swung open, both he and Steve realized that someone was there.

You were standing on the other side and they didn't know how much you had heard.

It really was the longest Sunday at work that you had ever faced. Each minute was an eternity, and each break that you had went by too fast. You sat by the kitchen door to call home, and Benny would watch you with a critical eye as you asked your mother if there were any messages for you--there weren't.

Your mom knew there was something wrong by the tone of your voice...but she knew your breaks were precious and not to take them up with her questions.

"I'll be home a little late tonight," you warned her.

"You ok?" she asked.

"Yeah...just...going over by Steve's for a little, I think."

"Ok Honey. Have fun. Tell him I said hi."

But you wouldn't...at least...you thought you wouldn't as you drove your car towards Forest Hills Trailer park after work so you could talk to Eddie.

Imagine your surprise as you pulled up to the trailer with the obvious green and white van out front...only to also find Steve's burgundy BMW parked next to it.

Fear gripped you, and you debated...well, you debated just leaving. Cut your losses and run, because they had to be in there...obviously talking about you.

But looking further past the two vehicles you saw a handful of bicycles leant against the side of the trailer.

So maybe it would be safe...if they were having a Hellfire meeting or something.

You parked your car and slapped your face, gave yourself the pep talk of the century.

He's in there and Eddie's also in there and their friends. And you're gonna walk up there and act completely normal, say that you came by to see Eddie but...oh, Steve what a surprise, you were trying to call him but he must have been here all day.

Yeah that was it. Perfect. You just had to get out of the car and say it.

The air was thick with the sludge of your nervousness, and its viscosity grabbed and pulled at you with each step toward the door you took.

You could hear the voices even before you got to the door, the variations in the timber of Steve and Eddie's voices vibrated through the wooden walls and vinyl siding. And it wasn't until you pulled open the storm door to knock that you really heard what they said.

"The girl I love doesn't love me either, so what's the point? You get the girl you want, but you need to live with the fact that she doesn't love you." The sound of Steve's voice made your heart plummet.

Nancy. They had to be talking about Nancy. He still loved her.

No wonder he was so quick to run when you said his name. He pretended you were Nancy all the way up until then.

"But could you live with yourself day in and day out," Steve continued. "If she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were? If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve?"

Wait...Steve? But...but that was Steve who was talking. What...what was happening.

You kept listening and as Steve kept talking, as you heard other voices chime in to try and stop him, and as he got louder and closer, you got more and more confused,

"So if I had to choose, no...I don't want to be Steve Harrington anymore, I want to be Eddie Munson again." Again. "Because even if she never loved me, I wouldn't have to be face to face with the fact that she loved someone else, every day, for the rest of my life."

"Eddie, wait!" And that was Eddie's voice.

Eddie called Steve...Eddie, just like he did that day way back when...the day he showed up at Family Video. The day that you had that date with Steve, when he changed your mind about breaking up with him.

And Steve was claiming...that he didn't want to be Steve anymore...that he wanted to be Eddie again. But if he wanted to be Eddie again...that meant he had to be Eddie at some point in the past...right?

Time slowed down and you got dizzy as you tried to make heads or tails of it all.

The dates and the kisses and the cologne and the chewing gum.

All of the times that you wished you knew what it was like to be with Eddie, when you were held so tenderly in Steve's arms.

The music and the declarations and the...the Nancy of it all.

You had thought vaguely last night that it almost seemed like they had traded places...but that was impossible.

"You're not...what I expected Steve Harrington to be like," you muttered. "You're so much better."

"Of course I'm better, it's because I'm..." He faltered for a moment.

It's because Steve was Ed--

The door to the trailer swung open and you stood in wide-eyed shock as you came face to face with Steve and Eddie.

Or...Eddie and Steve.

"Honey," they muttered simultaneously and you couldn't help the step you took back, the way your foot faltered on the steps of the small porch. You tumbled down the few steps and caught yourself on your hands, only for them and your knees to get ripped up by the gravel of the drive.

"Shit!"

"Is she ok?"

Two sets of footsteps came thundering down the porch steps and hands grasped at your arms to get you back to your feet.

"Honey, look at me, are you ok?" Steve--Eddie--cupped your face in his hands and turned you to him. He looked down at your hands and winced at the scratches. "Shit, we need to clean you up."

Meanwhile Eddie--Steve--talked over him.

"What did you hear? How much? You can't say anything, you can't tell anybody. They wouldn't believe you. They'd think you're nuts."

"Good job Harrington, can't you see she's hurt."

"She heard everything, Munson. God. We need to be proactive about this."

"Guys!" A voice came from the trailer door and you looked over to see Robin and a bunch of Steve's...Eddie's...someone's freshman friends standing behind her. Both of the boys continued bickering back and forth until Robin yelled again. "Shut the fuck up!"

Everything went silent except for the ringing in your ears.

You did the only thing you could do...

Your thoughts went a mile a minute as you revisited the epiphany you just had. And you couldn't believe how much sense it made. That it was Steve who touched you and kissed you and loved you. But underneath it all was Eddie.

...you turned on your heel and ran.

Eddie's heart clenched as you pushed his hands away from you, and you ran.

Well...ran was a generous term. You hobbled and skipped, the deep scratches and cuts on your skinned knees prevented you from gaining the speed you probably wanted. And it was all he could do not to go after you.

You heard. How much of it? Everything? How long had you been out there? You had to know now. You'd never look at him again.

It hurt, cut him so deep that it practically stopped his heart in his chest.

He knew that this was inevitable, had come to this conclusion that he would lose you...shit before he even had you. Everything in between then and now would just be a beautiful memory that he could take with him for the rest of his days.

"Well aren't you gonna go after her?" Robin called from her place at the door.

Eddie looked over at Steve, who looked right back at him.

"She means you," they said in tandem.

"Me?" Steve exclaimed. "Why me?"

"That's your girlfriend," Eddie said, as though it was the most obvious thing on earth.

"No," Steve laughed. "That's your girlfriend. And on top of that, you love her, so you need to fix this."

Eddie was speechless as Steve went and sat on one of the steps. He fished a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his vest and lit one up. Eddie rolled his eyes and looked back up at Robin and the kids.

"Go!" They all yelled at him. Eddie scrambled and started in the direction you ran, shaking his head softly as he heard them all turn on Steve with an "are you an idiot?"

He knew the way you ran. This was his home turf, even if he hadn't been here for a few weeks. He would always know this worn, dirt footpath that led to the gazebo out beyond the last trailer in the park. There used to be a jungle gym and swings out there...he had sat on those swings for hours after he heard news of his mom's death.

It was a good place to cry.

And Eddie half-expected you to be there crying, especially as he saw you, perched up on the bench with your face in your hands.

"Honey?" Your shoulders went rigid as he spoke, and he stopped in his tracks. "Hey it's me. Are you...ok? Can we talk?"

"Me who?" you asked softly, the fragility in your tone enough to make him pause. "Please...I need an answer, who am I talking to? Steve? Or Eddie?"

"Eddie," he said, clearly and confidently, knowing that this was it.

Your shoulders started shaking and he could hear vague whimpers coming from you. He couldn't hold himself back, he shuffled over to you, stood directly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders as you cried.

"I'm sorry," he began. The words flooded his mind: apologies, excuses, declarations of his emotions. He could barely contain one leak before another sprung. "I'm sorry I lied to you, I'm sorry I kept it a secret. It's just that it was so...unbelievable, so impossible, that I knew there was no way I could tell you without you thinking I was crazy.

"And before I knew it, it was too late, and we were dating. I was dating you for Steve but I was also...I was dating you for me because I've...I've had this stupid crush on you for years. Can you believe it? Years! And I never...I never thought I was good enough for you. But I was so...so angry because Steve wasn't good enough for you either. He's an idiot. Imagine my surprise, my luck the day I woke up and I was Steve...and I got to take you out on some date and finally...finally get to show you how much I cared. How I felt...

"But it wasn't right to have lied to you. To...to touch you and kiss you when you didn't know it was me. We all kept it a secret. Me, Steve, the kids, Robin. We all could have come clean at any time, but we figured we could fix it before then and now...now we might be stuck this way forever so please, please, I need...

"I don't need anything actually. There's nothing I can do to make this right. I can't ask anything of you, except to listen to me and believe that I never meant to hurt you throughout any of this. There were no tricks, no...well I guess there were lies. But I never pretended to care for you. Everything I said and did...it was real. And I don't blame you if you hate me, or if you never want to see me again, I just need to know...I need to know that you're alright.

"So please Honey," he ran his thumbs soothingly back and forth over your shoulders. "Please look at me and tell me...tell me you're at least ok and if you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave you alone forever. Just please. I need to know you're ok."

Your shoulders kept shaking and although Eddie's heart practically disintegrated in his chest, he felt...lighter. Something had shifted. Everything was out there, the truth. He didn't have to hide from you anymore, pretend that he was something he wasn't. All that was left was for you to tell him to fuck off...

When you peeled your hands away from your face and looked at him, though, you had tears of laughter in your eyes and a manic smile on your face.

"You..." you hiccuped through a giggle. "You're...you're Eddie Munson and you love me?"

"What?" he asked in disbelief, not entirely sure that he heard you right.

"You...you're Eddie Munson," you poked a finger into his chest. "In Steve Harrington's body."

"Yes."

"And you, Eddie Munson, love me?" you questioned. Eddie froze and you continued. "Don't act like I didn't hear....everything you said. You said...you said...you loved me but I would never love you back. But..."

You grabbed onto the front of his shirt and shook him, wincing as the rough fabric scraped against your torn up palms.

"I told Eddie...I told Steve...that I had a crush on you, Eddie Munson," you shook him and looked up into his eyes with a smile. You had...a crush on him and you told...Steve? "And he just said--"

"When?" Eddie interrupted you.

"In High school."

"No, when did you tell Steve?"

"Uh...last week? I don't...the...the night you came in with Corroded Coffin," you closed your eyes and shook your head. "And Steve...you...I'm sorry, it's really confusing."

"I know, imagine how I feel," Eddie chuckled.

"I told 'Eddie' that I had a crush on him in high school," you explained. "I told him and he acted like it wasn't anything to blink at. Like he didn't even remember I existed. And I felt so crazy, so hurt, that I went home and I tore up my diary because I never even thought you...that he...that..."

You rambled about thinking about him and smelling his cologne, noticing his chewing gum, and thinking about him when you kissed Steve--when you kissed him--and Eddie felt all the pain that he had, all the insecurity he had for the past 24 hours, melt away.

All the light in the universe--the burning of an infinity of stars--couldn't compare to the way his heart was shining right at that moment.

You didn't want Steve. You wanted Eddie.

"...and you ran away and I thought...but you..."

Eddie didn't let you finish your thoughts, he smashed his lips to yours and kissed you with bruising intensity.

The way he felt outdid any high he'd ever had.

He kissed you until you both needed air, then dropped little pecks around your face until you directed him back to your lips.

"You love me," you muttered against his lips.

"I love you," he nodded.

And then you said the one thing that he had wished to hear come from your lips for weeks, months, years.

"I love you too."

As soon as Eddie was out of sight, Robin and the kids were on top of Steve, yelling at him and swatting at him.

"Are you kidding me?" Robin shrieked.

"What?" Steve howled.

"You need to go after them too," Dustin tried to reason with him. "She's hurt and she's crying. This entire thing is a disaster."

"She's not my girlfriend! OW!" Robin had slugged him hard in the shoulder. First a black eye now a bruised shoulder. Great. "Ok, why do I need to go?"

"Because whether or not she's your girlfriend, you and Eddie both dragged her into this mess. So you both need to explain it to her," Will explained.

Steve sighed.

"Fine," he grumbled and threw the cigarette to the ground.

As he followed after you and Eddie, he sighed and wondered how this was all gonna play out. Why you hadn't just gotten into your car and driven away if you knew the truth. If you thought they were insane.

You could have made a fortune, told the newspaper.

If you told the newspaper though...that meant Nancy would find out eventually.

Nancy...

Steve reflected on everything that Eddie had said. He knew, now, that it was all in the context of you. That Eddie loved you...

So then why didn't he say anything? Steve...would have understood...or tried to at the very least. Right? And what Eddie had said made some sense to Steve.

"Could you live with yourself day in and day out if she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were?"

But who was he? He was just...Steve. He could talk about his parents and his time at Hawkins High...all the sports he played and friends he made. Nancy hadn't wanted Steve anymore, hadn't wanted that life.

But was that even his life anymore? He had less now than he had before. His parents were broken, their family in shambles. His friends had left him and laughed at him. Hell, even the admissions essay Nancy had helped him write once upon a time hadn't gotten him into a college; he just...worked at family video.

What could he offer her as Steve? Shit, did he even have anything to offer himself?

"If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve?"

What did Eddie have though? He had a band and friends and carefree fun.

But Steve learned over the last few weeks that it wasn't as carefree as he thought.

Shit, even Eddie living his life wasn't as carefree as one would assume. What could Eddie give to Nancy? What could Steve as Eddie give to Nancy? Yeah he enjoyed nights out with Corroded Coffin but...he didn't even play his own guitar. Eddie did. And he was enjoying Hellfire Club but...well, the kids and Eddie really helped him with the DM role. Maybe he would like it better if he was one of the players instead of the leader of the whole show.

What the hell was Steve? But no one? Would anyone even care if he was gone?

But he loved Robin, she was his best friend. And he loved the kids as though they were his own siblings. They all had done so much for Eddie...and for him the last few weeks. They put themselves at risk of being accused of...witchcraft and hysteria...they subjected themselves to his and Eddie's anger when they were at each other's throats.

They had plenty of opportunity to leave them both behind--to leave Steve behind--but they didn't.

"Could you live with Nancy Wheeler screaming out my name as you make love to her?"

Make Love. Love. That was really all Steve had to give Nancy anymore. And all he really wanted in return. Could he be happy knowing that she loved someone else and not him? Not Steve Harrington?

Fuck, she was doing that now with Jonathan Byers.

Steve saw you and Eddie huddled together at the gazebo, and as he got closer he heard what Eddie said to you. He felt those desperate words floating in the air.

"...But I never pretended to care for you. Everything I said and did...it was real. And I don't blame you if you hate me, or if you never want to see me again, I just need to know...I need to know that you're alright. So please Honey. Please look at me and tell me...tell me you're at least ok and if you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave you alone forever. Just please. I need to know."

Steve...froze in his tracks, and it was like a lightbulb switched on.

For as much as Eddie had just declared his love for you back at the trailer. He was willing to let it all go, let you go, as long as you were alright.

Eddie had done all of this, had caused this entire fiasco...because...because he thought that nobody loved him--because you didn't love him--just like Steve struggled to find people in his life who loved him. And Eddie was willing to walk away without love, so long as you were ok.

Steve thought about Nancy and Jonathan. About how happy they were...how they were alright, and making plans for the future together. More than Steve had ever really done with Nancy. He had his plans and she hers. He had his father's expectation to live up to and she had...ambition.

As much as it hurt...Steve knew...weedled and pushed deep down inside of his being that Nancy would never have been happy with him as she was with Jonathan. And sure...it hurt to see them together but...her smile. Her happiness. It still warmed his heart.

Because he loved her. He always would.

Steve watched as the two of you rambled and laughed and verbally tousled back and forth and he felt...lighter somehow. More awake and aware than he had been for weeks.

He didn't feel so stuck.

Selfless love.

Huh...so that's what it was.

Steve would have gotten closer, would have helped explain the situation to Eddie, but he knew Eddie had it under control.

Because despite their troubles and differences, despite all the shit that they had been through...something new was forming between Eddie and Steve. Friendship was a kind of love, and Steve wouldn't go and stick his foot in it to save his own face.

Steve turned on his heel and walked back to the trailer. Maybe not with...a new head on his shoulders, but definitely a new perspective.

Selfless love.

Steve woke up feeling...like he was sleeping on a cloud...although there was a heavy weight on his chest and his arm felt numb.

Was this Heaven? Was he dead? Had the stress of the past few weeks finally killed him?

He had returned to the trailer, to Robin and the kids, the night before, and shortly after, you and Eddie had trailed in after them looking...happier than you had been when you'd run off. Steve had been glad, if a little confused.

He'd put two and two together when he caught a glimpse of a soft kiss Eddie had pecked on your lips when you left...and he felt...embarassed for a second. To think that Eddie would have kept you warm for him for as long as you were in each other's bodies.

Man, maybe I am a douchebag.

The group of you had gone over plans to help Steve and Eddie achieve some self love, to help them get back in their bodies.

But now...well, if Steve was dead there was really no way that he was going to be able to enact those plans were there?

He briefly wondered, as he opened his eyes to a brilliant bright light, if Eddie would be able to get back into his body if he had died. Or if he would be stuck as Steve Harrington forever.

Steve blinked the cobwebs out of his eyes and frowned at the sight before him.

Plaid-papered walls and matching curtains that were thrown open and letting in all the early morning sunlight. A too soft bed that he had missed and you tucked into his side with the weight of you numbing his shoulder and his arm.

Huh? This didn't make any sense.

You groaned beside him and nuzzled your face into his shoulder. You muttered a quiet "guh morning Eddie" and scrunched up your face as you opened one bleary eye.

"Eddie?" he asked. And then it hit him. "Eddie!"

Steve jumped and pushed you off of him. He got to his feet and started running his hands over his body. Fluffy hair, toned chest, stubbly arms--ok so Eddie hadn't been shaving like he promised.

"What's wrong?" you asked, confused. "Is everything ok?"

"It's...it's me, I'm back!" Steve exclaimed. "I'm back!"

"Back?"

"It's me, it's Steve," he cheered and knelt on the bed. He grabbed your hand and pressed it into his hair, as though touching it would convince you somehow.

"What do you mean? I..." Recognition sparked in your eyes and you pushed him away from you. "If you're...does that mean he..." You scrambled to your feet, shoved your shoes on, and ran out of his bedroom.

Steve could hear a commotion outside the room between you and his mom, then the front door of the house squeaked open and slammed shut. Before long, his mom poked her head inside his room and tutted disapprovingly.

"Did that girl stay here all night Steven?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not the girl from the answering machine is it? I can't believe you--"

"Mom!" Steve stopped her and crossed the space between them. He looked down at her, truly for the first time in his life, and spoke clearly for the first time too. "You're so full of shit."

Eddie stirred awake and felt at peace.

Truly everything was working out in his favor.

He had a plan to get back in his own body, he had you, he had...something sharp digging into his shoulder, what the fuck?

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, his fingers dug into his eyes and as he pulled them back...strands of hair came away with them. Long, tangled strands...unfamiliar...but familiar all the same.

But Steve didn't have...

Eddie really looked at his hands then, at the ring-clad fingers and the tattooed skin. His familiar bats and his puppet master that he had gotten last summer. He turned his head and saw the glowing red lights of his shitty K-mart alarm clock.

6:45

The screech of tires and a spray of gravel outside really made him aware of the world around him. The room was still somewhat dark... but bright sunlight shone in from the makeshift curtain. He stared at band posters and the Corroded Coffin banner he made back in 9th grade, and slowly the recognition set in.

He was home.

He was home, he was home, he was home. He pushed the hair out of his face and looked at his arms, his body, his bed. He pulled the half-worn copy of Lord of the Rings out from under his pillow where it was sort of jutting into his shoulder and he kissed it.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he spoke out loud in his voice. He tried to lower the register, achieve his DM voice. "Eddie Munson."

There was a knock on a frantic door somewhere.

Wayne. No wait, it was still too early to be Wayne. He wouldn't be home until 8 when Eddie was already at school.

More recognition hit him.

"Fuck I have to go to scho--"

"Eddie I swear to god, if you don't open this door right now," your voice was faint, shouted from somewhere outside.

You. Your voice. He had fallen asleep beside you in Steve's bed...and now he was in his bed, in his body, and you were outside his door.

He kicked the blankets off of him, wincing as he saw that he was only in his boxers--thank fuck he was getting sick of tighty whiteys--and ran out to the door.

He stared at the living room, at the remnants of everyone being here the night before. Tidier than he would have left it, but Steve had promised to clean up. He vaguely wondered what else Steve had cleaned during his stay at Casa Munson.

"Eddie!"

"Shit," Eddie cursed and threw the door open, fully intent on being suave with his greeting, since he was back in his body. This would be his first chance to charm you as himself, after all. But as soon as you had your eyes on him, you threw your arms around his neck and planted a kiss right on his lips.

It was an entirely different sensation, kissing you as himself and not as Steve. You tasted...pretty much the same...maybe a little different. Tangier. Maybe a little...earthy but it wasn't even 7am yet and he doubted you brushed your teeth at Steve's.

Shit he hadn't brushed his teeth yet either.

But his nerves were immediately alight in a way that they never really got when he was Steve. And his blood rushed to mutually desired places much faster than it had in Steve's body too.

That was going to be weird, going through life comparing things to Steve again...in a different way. But...

"You're too busy thinking," you pulled away and smiled. "And not busy kissing me."

"Sorry Sweetheart," he chuckled. "Mystical body swapping does a whole lot on the mind. I got distracted."

"I'll forgive you," you pecked down his cheek to his neck and bit playfully. "Just this once."

"Your teeth feel sharper like this," Eddie noted aloud.

"It's because I'm biting you harder," you grinned against his skin. "Because I know you like me now so I'm not afraid to mess up."

"Not distracted thinking of someone else now either," he offered and felt you tense in his arms. The confidence in him faltered. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean--"

"No it's..." you pulled back from him and looked into his eyes. There was a glee there, one he hadn't expected to see. "I don't know. I guess it's all been wild and unexpected and 24 hours ago...I thought I was gonna lose...you forever...and now I have you."

"You have me," Eddie promised. "For as long as you want me."

"Never gonna stop."

"No?" he asked in a tease. "Not even if I...swapped bodies with old Ted Wheeler or something."

"Uh..." you wrinkled your nose and glared at him. "Eddie I don't know if you're intentionally killing the mood here but...I mean if you're trying to ask me if I would fuck Mr. Wheeler even if he was actually you, the answer is a hard no."

"But you'd fuck me?" he asked smugly.

"I'm sincerely trying to," you laughed. "I don't think you were this chatty as Steve."

"I am pretty talkative. Don't worry, I have other uses for my mouth, but first things first, I need your clothes off Honey."

He ushered you back to his room and his fingers pinched and plucked at your work uniform as you went. You still had it on from your shift the day before, and it was now wrinkled from sleep, and Eddie vaguely wondered how comfortable it was, but you eagerly pulled it off you as you set foot into his room and he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Not sure how clean the sheets are," he stepped close to you and cupped your face in his hands.

"It's ok."

"But I'm gonna take care of you Honey."

"As long as you don't run away again."

"I won't. I promise." He took your hand in his and pressed it against the bulge in his boxers, groaning at the spark of tension and pleasure. This was what he had been missing, the pleasure he felt in his own body, so familar and long-since-felt. "Feel how hard I am for you? Feel how much I love you?"

"You love me?" You asked.

"Are you always gonna ask if I love you?"

"I just gotta check. Make sure you didn't change your mind...or that...I don't know...that Steve didn't jump back into your body or something."

"Oh," he pushed you down onto his mattress and slid between your legs. He ground himself against you, the friction of your underwear making you both hiss in want. "I'll make you forget all about Steve Harrington by the time I'm done with you. You'll only remember my name."

He didn't play games, didn't waste time luxuriating in the details of you, when all he wanted was to take you to paradise again and again, and follow you, as quickly as possible.

Also because even if he did skip class with you today, his uncle would be home soon and he did not want this to be the way the two of you met.

He kissed down the length of your body and rid you of your underwear. He inhaled the heady scent of you, put his tongue on you the way he had on Saturday, and noted again that the taste of you was different. Better.

He could feel you holding back and he looked up at you smugly, resting his chin on the crest of your sex.

"What did I tell you? I want to hear you," he teased, and inched his fingers along the inside of your thighs. "You're beautiful you know...your pussy's so pretty. I didn't get to tell you that the other day. All of you, you're so...gorgeous and I can't believe you're all mine."

"Yeah?"

"You're all mine right?" He asked, kissing back down as his fingers spread your lips and he teased your clit with his middle finger. You whined. "Louder honey, you're all mine right."

"Yes." He sunk his fingers into you and he laved at you, lapping up whatever you gave him. The complex, sweet taste exploded on his tongue, and he pressed in further, further, crooked his fingers till you were panting. "Eddie."

He smirked and backed away slightly, looked up at you with hooded eyes. "Say it again. Give me what I want and I'll give you what you want."

"E-Eddie," you keened.

"Again," he sped up and started shifting against the bed, as he chased his own pleasure. "One more. I'll get you there sweetheart. I'll get you there you just have to ask."

"Eddie please!" He stroked with skilled fingers and used his thumb to rub your clit firmly. He watched as you came. Awed in the beauty of you as you twitched and leaked, luxuriated in the flutter of your cunt around his fingers, and basked in the crescendo of your moans.

All while he rutted quickly and wildly against the bed. He wasn't gonna last--he'd barely touched himself in Steve's body, and he knew Steve wasn't doing any routine upkeep in his--and before long his release spilled as he grunted and groaned. He couldn't help himself, he bit into the plush of your thigh, enough to earn another high pitched whine from you.

You both panted and came down from your highs. He'd kissed back up your body to your mouth, letting you take the affection that you needed with your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers threaded through his hair. He felt a tingle in his spine as your nails scratched against his scalp, and he knew it was a promise of more to come later, but he knew he needed to clean you up now.

He whispered sweet apologies as he left your side to get a washcloth from the bathroom, and then he cleaned you up first--paying close attention to the scrapes on your hands and knees, then the mix of his spit and your release between your legs. Then he took care of himself, slightly embarrassed as he rid himself of his stained boxers and revealed his rapidly softening cock to your curious gaze.

"Shit," he laughed and looked down himself and then back up into your eyes, so filled with affection. "You know something?"

"What?" you grinned at him, clearly feeding off his joy.

"Steve definitely has a weirder dick than me." You covered your face in your hands and cackled.

"I hate you!" you shouted, voice muffled.

"Noooo," he quickly flopped on the bed and pulled you to him. He peeled your hands back from your face and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You love me.

June 1986

This was it.

Eddie had never been so nervous in his life. Not the first time he performed with Corroded Coffin, or the first time he was the DM for Hellfire, not even the first time he kissed you.

This was the minute that his future would finally begin.

"Edward Munson," Principal Higgins' voice echoed across the football field. Eddie climbed the makeshift stage accompanied by a mix of cheers and applause (and boos from the douchebag jocks who had made his life miserable for the past 6 years).

He shook Higgins' hand and took his diploma, smiling nicely for the photographer that had set up right at the edge of the stage, and when he got a mischievous look on his face, Higgins sighed.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you Eddie," he warned.

"Come on, it's not like you can fail me now!" Eddie snarked and tucked the diploma under his arm, before flashing double birds at the older man. The sounds of the crowd grew louder--parents outraged, students amused--and as Eddie turned to extend the gesture to the crowd, he saw his little audience get to their feet and cheer harder.

Wayne who shook his head, forever amused at his boy's antics. Rick who, quite frankly, looked high as a kite. Gareth and Dave and Jeff's parents, who were there for him and Jeff. Steve and Dustin and Lucas--who had cheered for Robin, Jonathan, now for Eddie, and soon enough for Nancy. Will and Mike were with their families, but Eddie could still see them clapping enthusiastically.

And front and center, next to Wayne with the brightest smile and the loudest cheers, was you.

It was still weird, even after months of getting to be with you as Eddie instead of as Steve. Not bad weird. Better weird.

This was a moment he never imagined he would get to experience. Graduating high school, getting to know you and love you the way you did.

It still felt surreal, but as he ran off the stage amidst hooting and hollering of his classmates and the audience, he knew it was where he was meant to be.

Hours later, Eddie was surrounded by friends, family, and classmates in the Wheeler's backyard, celebrating the momentous occasion of high school graduation.

Wayne chatted with Ted Wheeler and Thomas Harrington, who had in fact offered Wayne a job at the dealership. Their kids newfound and unexpected friendship was a chance to actually talk with one another and Tom quickly realized that his new acquaintance was actually a skilled mechanic. While it took a little convincing on Eddie's part for Wayne to actually take the job, Wayne was actually grateful that it paid a little more and offered better hours than the plant.

Eddie's eyes narrowed as he watched Tom rub his ring finger nervously, the missing wedding ring obvious and awkward, especially amongst a big crowd like this. But no one dared say anything about the divorce or the fact that Mary had been seen around town with Mayor Kline. They didn't even ask Steve how his mother was doing. Everyone welcomed the Harringtons, glad they could make it to the celebration.

Guests milled about, the kids all chased each other around with water balloons, and too many overcooked hamburgers and hot dogs were consumed.

Eddie had his arm around you as you chatted with Nancy and Jonathan about plans for the future. You and Nancy had become fast friends, especially after Eddie returned back to his body and actually took advantage of Nancy's tutoring sessions.

There had been a moment, early on after the swap back into their own bodies, that Nancy had commented on the fact that you were dating Eddie...when she thought you had just been seeing Steve for weeks.

"I'm just worried about him," she confided in Eddie. "We didn't break up on the best terms. He'll always be my friend."

"I think he'll be ok," Eddie assured her. "The two of them are just friends. He doesn't have that many of those in Hawkins. You know, she convinced him to sign up for classes at the Tri County College in the fall?"

"No way," Nancy exclaimed. "I thought he was just gonna be stuck at Family Video for the rest of his life."

Eddie chuckled in recollection, remembering Nancy's disgusted face.

No, Steve wouldn't be stuck in Family Video forever, because Eddie had recently take a job there as an assistant manager to kill the extra time he had now that school was over and supplement that money from the additional gigs Corroded Coffin had earned over the summer.

It wasn't a record deal or a tour...just some local carnivals and fests...but it was a start.

And of course, there was you. With your unending affection and support and bright, shining personality. The you he got to know between high school and his...foray into Steve Harrington-ness only bloomed further under the gentle attentions of him and his love.

You told him things that you had never told him as Steve. You confided in him about your worries for the future, about your struggle balancing school and work, about your ideas and insecurities. And he did the same with you. It was a mutually fulfilling relationship, and one that was full of trust.

And the sex was one of the highpoint of his entire life so far. Not even his Warlock ranked quite as high on the list.

"Hey Eddie!" Dustin called to him and Eddie turned only to get hit in the face and doused with water from a rogue water balloon. He ran a hand over his eyes and did a dog-like shake to get the water from his hair. He glared at Dustin and Steve, who had thrown the precision shot and laughed heartily at his expense.

Douchebag.

Eddie sighed and looked around the party, at friends and family, at the kids, and you, and finally at Steve, who nodded in amicable understanding.

If he never saw Steve Harrington again...what would Eddie do? They'd experienced one of the...weirdest of things they'd ever experience in their lives. And it was something that inexplicably tied them together.

They were friends now.

Who'd have thought.

But, Stranger Things could've happened.

Thank you for reading. <3

#freaky friday au #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson smut #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington angst #Eddie Munson fluff #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson stranger things #Steve Harrington stranger things

[justatypicalwizard]

Until The End Of The Night | Ch 2

-1 am.-

✦ College!au, characters in early twenties, support!reader, slight angst to happy ending

✦ Synopsis: after over three years abroad you come back to continue your education. Despite gaining new friends and living a great life in Europe nothing feels better than home. You are quickly sucked in the everyday drama and everything would be just as you left it if not for Bakugo. Three years ago you two shared a moment, a short and meaningful moment that no one knows or should know about. That is until the situation gets out of control.

✦ Warnings: smut

✦ Word count: 2k

✦ Chapter: Hot pot place, homecoming party and a bitter taste to it. You were wrong all the way.

Masterlist

You made some mistakes that night at the hot pot place, five to be exact. Five crushing mistakes that left you punching your pillow at one o’clock. The first of them was thinking about Bakugo Katsuki.

The blonde slipped into your thoughts like a murderer slips around the corner after you sent your midterm report and some other documents back home. The sharp edged blade of excitement pointed straight at you. Elusive memories of the bonfire night bounced in and out of your brain when you sealed the paper boxes with sticky tape, readying your belongings for the long journey.

You were not that self-centred, you also thought about others but it was easier to ground them in your head, as they flooded your phone with messages. Mina has been jumping around like a flea on a dog’s butt ever since she learned you were coming back. She was rambling about doing college stuff together (as if you ever believed she was actually studying and not only barely passing), going to parties and clubs, having sleepovers like you used to and so on. Denki was not that nostalgic but he kept sending you thousands of memes and photos of himself like the one on the couch with an empty space next to him and a title ‘waiting for you baby girl’. He even once sent you the whole of the Parable of the Prodigal Son, pasted into a text message. Kiri asked if you need help moving something heavy from the truck.

Bakugo never texted, not even once in nearly three years. He was a man of his words, disappearing just as he promised you he would. You were not angry nor sad, you hardly sported any emotions for him right now, or at least up to that point.

After the feral night you got caught up in college, moving, new country and all that stuff and it came out that you never texted, neither did he, so you’ve done as he asked you and pushed the feelings to the side, soon not even bothering. Very soon.

Up to today you didn’t understand his motives but the thought of seeing him and saying ‘hi’ lit up a warm feeling in the pitch of your stomach. What will the mysterious Bakugo say to you? Guess you’ll have to wait and see.

Your second mistake was looking Bakugo Katsuki in the eye as he entered the hot pot place.

Just after you unpacked your last shirt and folded it neatly into your closet, that would sooner than later become a familiar mess again, you found yourself in a spot that Mina and Denki promised to be good. It was to have delicious hot pots and fairly cheap beer. That was the place where you found yourself, celebrating the big homecoming. It was just the closest pack, with Kirishima as a plus one to Mina. Oh how happy you were they finally got together last year, after all that blind man’s buff. And just as always Bakugo was on Kiri’s track to social gatherings.

When he came in, catching you all in the line, just as you were about to be guided to your table, he threw you a nasty look and that’s it. It was as if he saw an old chewing gum at the opposite end of a park bench and was grateful that he didn’t sit on it. Nothing changed here, you guessed.

The third mistake was letting Denki arrange the seats by forcefully pushing himself flat against your side. Mina took the seat on your left and Kirishima, like the retriever he is, politely sat in front of her. This left Bakugo with only one option which was opposite of you. That way you had the perfect, front row seat to the ice-themed show he put up all night.

The food was delicious, the beer indeed cheap and your friends all around. No matter how many people passed through your life abroad, nothing felt as good as back home, in the warm embrace of known and loved. Hours flew by with photos, memories, achievements, second-hand embarrassment from Denki’s stories about his flirts, and stuffing your stomach to the point of bursting. The place was alive that night with laughter echoing not only from your table. People’s heads moved and bounced, bobbed and sank all around the tight place like troubled sea, swelling with stories, shouted out over chunks of beef and pork.

All was warm, fizzy and tipsy aside from the blonde. The air seemed to freeze for a split second every time you caught sight of him. His eyes were piercing, the red around his pupils insufferably cold. He seemed to suck that cold air out of the hot pot place, up to the point of suffocating everyone just to prove something to you. This tension broke and vanished as soon as he looked away, answering Kiri or throwing curses at Denki. No one else noticed, no one else around your table was his target tonight.

Your fourth mistake was stopping by the open sliding door when you spotted him also coming back from the toilet. Why did you have to finish washing your hands at the same time? The cool air of a spring night kissed your exposed cheek, barging in the door that some staff member left open, mindlessly. Maybe if not that door, the strip of city at night patched onto the steady fibre of the restaurant wall, would you never ever hear what his lips told you.

“Well hello there stubborn ass.” You cracked a smile hoping now, when you were alone would he finally stop with his act.

“The fuck you want?” In an instant his arms were crossed, delineating a firm border. His frontier was barricaded, ready for offence any moment.

“I was just amused with how you were able to not even greet me despite sitting here for a few hours already.” The smile, still plastered on your face, started to feel stiff.

“And?”

“And?” Your patience was running surprisingly short with this man. There was no logic in fighting with him right now. Heck, you never fought with him, so why are you feeling so defensive right now? “I just wanted to ask whether something happened, you’re acting a bit weird.”

You tried to be as nice as you could despite harsher words pushing at your lips. All of his nasty stares, huffs and ignorance this night could hardly be named ‘acting a bit weird’.

“You’re imagining things.” His stance was high and mighty, too high for you it seemed.

“No I’m not. Something’s off and if you’re feeling that bad then why did you even come here in the first place? The night was supposed to be about my coming back, you knew it.” You hated when someone told you you were wrong when you clearly weren’t, especially if it came from a place of nonchalance.

“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit. It’s not about you.”

“Then why did you come here with this mood?” Saying that you pointed up and down his angry form.

“I’m fine.”

As much as you didn’t want to, an irritated huff escaped your lips. How can he lie so obviously? “If you say so.” Not seeing a point in pressing more of his buttons you decided to surrender.

“Yes, I do say so.” Chewing the inside of your cheek at how he always had to have the last word, you were just about to turn the corridor to safely sail to the bay between Mina and Denki, leaving this storm at sea. “You really think you’re that important, huh?”

An irritated look passed through your features.

“And what does that mean exactly?” Let all hell loose, he won’t be talking to you like that.

“What you’ve heard. You think this is all about you while it’s not.”

“You came to my homecoming party with a nasty face, been salty all night long ignoring me and not even greeting me after three years and you say it’s not about me? What’s the problem then, the hot pot too hot and it ruined your mood?” Your earlier words were quick like bowshots but now he was taking his time, loading the siege weapon. “If it’s about the night at the bonfire then…” You tossed your arms into the air aimlessly. “Then tell me. I come back and I miss the point, I don’t know what’s happening. If you’re scared I will tell someone, tell Mina or anyone I won’t. Never did and never will, so just stop pretending.”

His lips laughed, a short, dry and breathy laugh but his eyes stayed put, piercing you like arrows.

“You were always sharp weren’t you? Smartass. Okay, it is about you.” Bakugo came closer, standing chest to chest with you, not minding to bend down to your level. He was too comfortable up high. “Remember that because I’ll only tell you once. I don’t want any extras in my life and that includes you. I’m pissed that such a nobody can come back and shimmy her way into the lives of people who won’t profit on it. You’re just so, so selfish.”

Your way back to the table was long and dizzy. The air changed and the commotion that met you in the main room after lingering in the tight corridors of the restaurant maze made the paprika, soy sauce and bitterness come up your throat. He was not here anymore, he went home when you were in the toilet. He didn’t even say goodbye, what a prick, Denki said.

Yes, he was a prick.

The pillow was bashed in on one side as you punched it a few times in hope of letting out some steam, or more like building up some. You wanted to be angry, you wanted to be furious. You could grab your phone and text Bakugo how stupid, childish and selfish he acted. You would be the bigger person because you are still keeping the secret, despite him starting an open war with you. But you didn’t, you weren’t angry. Sadness choked your throat and you pillow-punches were weak.

You hoped that Bakugo would keep the secret because now it felt like a stigma. A burning brand every place his hands roamed three years ago.

You’re just so, so selfish.

You had too much bravado in yourself. The bonfire night lost its pink hue and turned to real colours. Did you even remember it right? You were drunk, he was drunk. Was it the first time a boy told a girl anything she wanted to hear to get in her pants? Did he even ask you about the whole girlfriend stuff or did you dream it later? Write another chapter to this story, an unsuccessful, pretended epilogue because you desperately wanted to be the main character?

All this time you held some sort of a sick pride to the fact he had a thing for you. Sure, it was sad you learned about it a few days before your departure but was it not a confidence boost, to have someone like Bakugo crushing on you and fucking with you? You felt as if that memory was a foundation to a part of your character. And now that pillar was ruined. What came in its place was embarrassment.

Just as he said three years ago, Bakugo popped up behind Denki in video calls or in the periphery of Kiri’s gym photo sometimes. You saw how he looked, how he grew. If he was considered handsome in highschool then college was out of line. Ranking climbing, challenge addicted, good-looking and surely heartbreaking. The audacity of yours, thinking of him as your score. You were his score, an easy start, a quick nothing.

The fifth and final mistake of yours was reading too much into what was, in fact, very simple.

You want to be in a Taglist? DM me or leave a comment.

Taglist: @rayleeya @chocoyanchan @the-dumpster-fire-of-life @sofilsword @bri-mercado-00

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha #bakugo #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #Until The End Of The Night #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki #kacchan #mha bakugou #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[nomercymaster11]

My Masterlist! (edited as of March 24, 2024)

RATED 18

Possession ver. 2.0 - Passionate encounter with Law; jealousy, desire, and unspoken complexities unfold. (⭐⭐)

Dancing on the Precipice - Secret passions bloom amid celebration. (⭐)

Tender Nights - Law's late night affection. (⭐)

Harmony in the Icy Depths - Forbidden harmony at sea. (⭐⭐⭐)

Delicate Mornings - Law makes amends for a night's slumber. (⭐⭐⭐)

Whispers of the Heart - Crew banter interrupts a daydream of a clandestine moment. (⭐)

NON RATED 18

My first ever series:

Chapter 1: It’s complicated - Law rejects your confession to him. How will you cope?

Chapter 2: Two-way Dilemma

Chapter 3: Silent Longings

Chapter 3.5: We should talk

Chapter 4: Through Law's eyes

----

Inked Secrets - A playful prank reveals hidden truths, intertwining hearts on the rooftop.

Turbulent Currents - Heart Pirates breaking apart.

Possession - Law's silent declaration against Sanji.

Navigating Bonds: The Heart Pirates' reaction - Heart Pirates embrace evolving ties in uncharted seas of camaraderie.

Silent Tides - unspoken feelings for Law.

I recently rekindled my interest in the One Piece fandom two months ago after watching the One Piece Live Action on Netflix. I decided to rewatch the anime from Episode 1, and I'm proud to say that I've caught up. To achieve this, I committed to watching 100 episodes per week. Admittedly, it felt a bit intimidating given that One Piece has over a thousand episodes, and I had paused my watching right before the timeskip during the Sabaody Archipelago Arc. (Currently on Episode 1032, and although I initially didn't plan to be a weekly watcher, I can't help but get more and more into it!)

I used to be a Sanji fan, but it's been around eight years since I stopped watching the anime. Little did I know, I would fall in love with Law. Discovering more about him—his character, personality, dynamics—I thought, 'This man is the standard.' I wish I hadn't stopped watching One Piece back then, but here I am! I'm so happy and fully immersed that I've even started creating a Trafalgar Law shrine in my room.

Regarding the fan fictions I'm working on and planning for the future, they're based on my imagination, some influenced by my experiences and emotions during writing, and inspired by songs I frequently listen to. I have numerous ideas in mind, and I hope to articulate them soon.

So, thank you for reading my fanfiction(s)!

#one piece #one piece fandom

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Chapter 5

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC 

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 - Chapter 6

Burning Hearts Chapter 5: Reclaiming Energy

— — 

It had nearly been a month since Law had begun training Daisy. Six days a week they would meet in the clearing to spar. He pushed her further each time, but she was still holding back her strength by refusing to use her devil fruit powers. Her powers only revealed themselves when she lost control of her body and mind. 

That was how he lost his eyebrows a few weeks ago. After Law brought up her previous captor, she had blacked out with emotion and didn’t remember the moment where fire sprayed from her lips and singed his face. Daisy passed out immediately afterwards and had to be carried back to the base. Law never brought it up. 

“Hmm…” Law is alone in his office and perusing the large bookcase that housed thousands of medical journals and historical texts. 

“Aha.” Law grabs a particular dusty, tattered tome from the bottom shelf of the bookcase and carries it back to his desk. He gingerly sets the delicate book down on his desk and flops down in his chair. He rolls the desk chair inwards and wipes the layer of dust off the cover of the book with the sleeve of his yellow hoodie. He opens the book. 

The cracking sound of the spine ricochets off the cold steel walls of Law’s office and he peruses the yellowed pages. It was a book on Devil Fruits, but ones that were only theorized to exist. This book was far different from his other texts on Devil Fruits. This one was much older and much less precise. The book was full of crude, handmade drawings and scribbles from its author. None of these fruits were confirmed to have ever existed, but Law was determined to find out what kind of Zoan type could breathe fire and fly. 

Law sifted through the brittle pages trying to find an answer, but soon felt the lack of sleep catching up with him. How long had it been since he had laid in his bed and indulged in a full nights sleep? Days? Weeks?

“Ugh…” Law leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. He flops his arms down on the sides of his chair and lets his eyes rest for just a moment…

*Knock knock* 

Law is jostled out of his relaxed state by a knock on the door. 

“Come in.” Law calls out as he pushes his hair off his forehead and straightens himself in his chair. 

“Hi.” Daisy smiles as she enters Law’s office. 

“Hi back.” Law responds. “Is there something you need?”

“Well…” Daisy slinked quickly from her place in the doorframe to the side of Law’s desk. “That depends… is there something you’d like to give me?” 

“What?” Law knits his brows, confused. 

Daisy runs her hand along Law’s desk before taking a step towards him. 

“I think you know what I’m talking about…” The tone in Daisy’s voice was unlike anything he had ever heard before. 

*woosh*

Suddenly, in a flutter of wings, Daisy had landed herself directly onto Law’s lap, straddling him. She smiles softly and brings a hand up to caress the side of his face. 

“Don’t you want to touch me, Law?” Daisy purrs down at him from his lap, dark black wings framing her feminine figure. 

“M-miss Rito this is highly unprofessional… I-I-“ Law stutters out from underneath the demon. "I-I could never..." Law trips over his words, flustered by the beautiful woman on his lap...

“But Law…?”

“Law?” 

“Captain? Law?” 

Law was snapped awake. He dozed off. He had been dreaming. Bepo was shaking him awake with a large paw. 

“What, what do you want?” Law snaps once he has fully regained consciousness. 

“Captain… you received a letter… it’s from the Marines…” Bepo holds out an envelope, so small-looking in his clawed paw. 

“The Marines? How did they find us?” Law asks as he grabs the letter and begins tearing it open. 

Law peruses the letter. 

There was a long moment of silence as he processed the message. 

“Pack my bag. I have to go.” Law finally remarks. 

“O-on your own, Captain? Surely you’ll want me to accompany you?” Bepo asks. 

“No. I don’t want any of you involved in this. I have to do it alone.” Law states as he begins packing up his things around his office. “Ready the Tang. I’ll be gone for awhile.” 

— — 

You had been called to the conference room by the teams captain along with the entire Heart Pirate crew. You sat, bored, in a chair against the wall while waiting for Law. The captain finally enters and the rest of the crew straightens their postures and looks on attentively. You continue to slouch as you observe the dirt in your fingernails and pick it out with your teeth. 

“I have to leave on business. It will be at least a few weeks. I will answer no questions as it is a sensitive matter.” Law states as he stands in the front of the room. You roll your eyes. *he’s so dramatic* 

“Well! See ya! Have fun!” You rise from your chair and move towards the door of the conference room. 

“Daisy you will continue your training in my absence. I expect to see an improvement in your skills when I return. That is an order.” Law raises his voice at you.

“Whatever.” You pull at the side of your mouth and stick your tongue out. Law scours at your silly expression. You turn and push your way out of the conference room. You swiftly bring yourself down the halls of the base. 

“Finally a moments peace…” You grumble to yourself as you enter your stateroom. You swiftly pull your grungy sweatshirt over your head and throw it on the floor.  Flopping back on your bed in your shorts and sport bra, you take in a deep breath. Having that shit-head death doctor gone for awhile would give you time to do your own thing… reclaim your identity. You knew you had to keep training, but tomorrow you were going to focus on yourself. 

— — — 

“That should be enough…” You mutter to yourself as you fill your backpack with sample jars and vials. After being on this island for a month, you learn that it is fact not a winter island, but one with all four seasons. The signs of spring were blossoming all around the compound. The snow was melting and intrepid little green buds popped up from the dirt. 

Law was gone and you had plans to fly the coop… literally and figuratively. 

You leave your room and head towards the front door of the base. “Woooaaahh. Where’s the fire, Daisy?” 

You were stopped in your tracks by Penguin. 

“Heading out for a bit. See you at dinner.” You respond and push past him. 

“Not like, out of the compound, right? Captain said to not leave…” 

“Are you going to stop me? I mean, try. Be my guest. I’m going to go where I want.” You reply as you grip one of your blades with your right hand. 

“I-I- I mean no, I mean yes…” Penguin stuttered and slowly backed up a few steps. “J-just be back for dinner? Please?” 

“Got it. Back by supper.” You nod and head out the door before waiting for a response. You head out into the fresh air and relish in its humidity and warmth. Spring was here, your favorite season. The smell of damp soil and salt spray filled your nostrils. You breathed deeply and sighed happily. 

You spread your wings and stretched them tentatively. 

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.” You smile and spring up into the sky. 

— — —

After spending the whole day exploring the island and collecting plants and ingredients, you returned to the Heart Pirates base. Humming happily to yourself, you pruned off the dead leaves from the bouquet of spring flowers you collected. 

You knock at Ikkaku’s door. 

“Yeah?” You heard from the other side of the steel door. 

“Hey hey, happy tulip season!” You grin as you present the bouquet. 

“Woah! You found these here?! They’re gorgeous!” Ikkaku takes the flowers and inhales their scent. 

“Yeah, other side of the island. They’re coming up a bit early, but it was nice to see. I got some bulbs that I’ll plant in the yard… but I saw the buds coming up and thought you’d like them!” You coo while you preen the tulip bouquet in Ikkaku’s hands. 

“Thank you for these, it’s nice to have a feminine touch around here.” Ikkaku smiles warmly at you before moving to place the flowers a glass of water on her desk. 

“You’re welcome. It’s time we brighten the place up a bit.” You chuckle and turn to leave the room. “Hey I wanted to ask you something…”

“Yeah?” Ikkaku looks up from her flowers to meet your gaze. 

“That record player in the hall closet, can I use it?”

Ikkaku furrows her brow. 

“It’s Law’s. He said it belonged to an old friend, but he hasn’t ever used it. I’m sure it would be good for the thing to get a bit of play. Since the captain will be gone for awhile, I’d say now is the time to give it some use.” 

You smirk.

“Perfect.” 

— — — 

You place a record on top of the machine and fumble around with the dials. 

“Come on…” You mumble as you fiddle with the needle of the record player. You use your other hand to move the poor old snail that was used to amplify the music of the record player. 

After a few moments of adjustments, the music began to flow loudly out of the snail’s shell. 

You smile. 

“Much better.” 

You do a little spin to the music before you grab your sample jars and dump them out into a bin on the floor. Red flower petals filled the bin as you added other ingredients to the concoction. You hummed along to the music as you continued your ministrations. 

After adding some liquids to the bin, you stirred it and made sure the color was to your liking. You assured that the pot was filled with the correct shade of red before heading to your closet and retrieving the untouched Heart Pirate uniforms that Law had given you. 

You unfolded the jumpsuits before plunging them into the homemade dye. 

You hum and sway your hips to the music coming from the record player. 

“I’ll show you a fucking uniform…” 

— — — 

After hours of soaking in the bin, you clip your new bright red jumpsuits to the clothesline in the yard. You couldn’t help but smile looking at the defaced uniforms. You head back inside the base and go towards the kitchen. 

You open the double doors to the galley and head to the pantry. 

“Flour and water… they have to at least have that…” You mumble to yourself. 

You find what you were looking for and combine the two to begin to form a rough, shaggy dough on the kitchen island. After kneading the dough into a loaf, you leave it to rest on the counter. 

With the bread rising and your new jumpsuits drying, you take yourself to your room to take a nap. Now that Law was gone, you could finally relax. 

— — 

Hours later, you place the bread in the oven and head out to grab your dyed jumpsuits. You see the gorgeous red color of the coveralls and feel satisfied… but the new issue was the large Heart Pirate logo on the back. 

You grab the sewing kit from your backpack and get to work. 

— — 

“Dinner’s on!” You call out from your place at the stove. You had been using your freshly baked bread to create piles of grilled cheese sandwiches. 

Quickly, the Heart Pirates poured into the kitchen and were met with loud music and a large plate of hot sandwiches. 

“Grab one before they get soggy. I’m making more now.” You huff out with a fat joint between your lips. 

The crew was hesitant accepting a meal from a stranger, but eventually they all grabbed a plate and sat down at the galley table. You continued flipping sandwiches on the stove.

“Now girl, what the hell are you wearing?” Ikkaku asks, eyeing you up and down. 

“You don’t like it? I made it myself. Think it suits me better.” You peek over your shoulder and gesture at the large logo on the back of the jumpsuit. The cream colored outfit was now bright red. You had sewn fabric and thread over the logo to add a makeshift straw hat over the Heart Pirate Jolly Roger. Ikkaku gives you a warning glare. 

“What… what is this…” Bepo asks… hands shaking over his plate. 

“Its a grilled cheese, Bepo… You’ve never had one?” You look up and stare at the polar bear. 

“It’s… it’s so wonderful….” Tears begin to form at the corner of the bear’s eyes. 

You laugh. 

“Bread is good. Don’t listen to your idiot captain. You’re missing out on so many beautiful sandwiches. Eat the grilled cheese. It’s good for you.” You chuckle and plate more sandwiches upon the kitchen island. 

The Heart Pirates greedily gobble them up as soon as you set them down. 

“You better not keep this up, or they aren’t going to want to let you go.” Ikkaku laughs without a mouthful of grilled cheese as she nudges your shoulder. The large man you had come to know as Jean Bart asked you to prepare more grilled cheeses. You obliged happily. 

You smile back at Ikkaku silently. You’d never stay here. There wasn’t anything that would make you want to stay. You missed home. 

— — — 

After a few days of Law’s absence, you begin to bring the outdoors indoors to make yourself more at home. 

With each passing day, more and more potted plants and vines began appearing around the Heart Pirate’s base. 

“Hey hey hey what are you doing in here?!” Shachi asks as you enter the room he shares with Penguin. 

“Bringing you a houseplant. It smells like desperation and an armpit in here, I think you two could use some extra oxygen.” You remark as you drop off a large snake plant in the corner of their room. “At least try to water it… it’s almost impossible to kill but I don’t put anything past you two.” You turn to leave the stateroom. 

“Hey wait!” Shachi calls after you. 

You swivel to face the man in the orca whale hat. 

“Yes?” You respond. 

“I hear you were growing something… else…” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Did you want to smoke, Shachi? I won’t tell your captain.” You cock your head from the doorframe. 

“Do I ever!” Shachi jumps up like an excited child and follows you out of his room. 

— —

xx

Authors Note: SORRY FOR THE TEASE IDK UGH. D Girl hasn't figured it out yet. She still hates Law OOPS. Law comes home during the next chapter, will he be understand or rigid when it comes to Daisy?

Send me DM's with more ideas. Love yall :)

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece smut #one piece fandom #law x reader #zoro x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar op #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalfar #law one piece

[do-it-jakey-baby]

An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: smut, drinking, language

18+, MINORS DNI

Ok, here it is. I had so much fun writing the second chapter. I think this storyline has so much potential, I hope you’re all enjoying it as much as I am! 🫶🏻

Chapter 2 3.6k word count

Awoken by the dim morning light, you softly stir until your arm brushes against a warmth sharing the hotel bed. Your eyes snap open and dart over to the figure, your mind swimming.

Oh fucking hell, who is this? Please, please don’t let it be my ex you plead to yourself, wondering how you could be so stupid. You search your mind for any recollection of the night before, but it remains blank. Your frantic energy must have disturbed the figure, as they roll over and tuck an arm around your waist.

“Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

Ok, that’s definitely not my ex, you thought. That voice… where do I know that voice from?

“Uh… hey?” The voice speaks out again.

The arm tucked around your waist pulls you over so that you are now face to face, and there he was.

“Jake” you breathed with a smile.

Suddenly last night’s antics flooded back into your mind, and you felt your face flush hot.

“I um… I slept good. Thanks” you manage.

He chuckles softly and moves his hand to your face, cradling your blush bitten cheeks.

“Wow… you are just so beautiful” he purrs lightly, his voice filled with adoration for your natural state.

You scrunch your nose and move to hide your face behind the duvet, but he pulls you back closer and places a kiss on your freckle-studded complexion. The gentleness behind his actions make your heart flutter. How can a person who barely knows you be so intuitive to your needs? The way you crave intimacy far beyond sex? More importantly, why did this person have to be a famous rockstar, who without a doubt would have no interest in carrying on whatever this is when he ultimately leaves for his next show.

How could you have been so stupid?

Whilst you laid there, woven between his arms, your mind spiralling with a thousand frenzied thoughts, Jake was none the wiser. He was content in the moment that you both were sharing, watching you silently, observing the small and seemingly insignificant details. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, even after it had been tussled from your slumber. The dimples in your cheeks, the softness of your skin, the way you rubbed your thumb across his back. He fixated on all these little things, subconsciously committing them to core memories. Meanwhile, you had dug yourself into a pit of despair.

You launched yourself from the bed and hastily started getting dressed. Jake propped himself up on his elbows, perplexed to say the least.

“In a rush to get somewhere?”

You stopped in your tracks, frozen by his words as they snapped your attention away from the incessant buzz within your head and brought you tumbling back into reality.

“Uh… yeah. I have to check out by 11. Not sure I want to incur any late fees.” You mumbled, beginning to collect your belongings to pack them away.

Jake had begun to move from his position on the bed to make his way towards you, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

“Hey, let me help with that.”

He reached for an item on the floor at the same time as you and your hands touched briefly. You recoiled hastily and snapped your eyes onto his. He looked up at you, his eyebrows knitting together, visibly confused by your reaction.

“Are you ok?”

Before you could stop yourself, the words were coming out.

“No, actually. I am not. What the fuck am I doing? I am not the type of girl who lets random rockstars back to her hotel room. I do not do one night stands, especially not with people who have no interest in seeing me ever again. You probably do this every night with a different girl and I am not letting myself feel the things I am feeling only to end up hurting over another fucking guy!”

The visceral reaction to your words was evident. Jake’s face contorted, every inch of his body tensed, his hands flew up to his face as he rubbed his temples and sighed. His reaction prompted your memory to kick in, replaying his words from the previous evening like a projector cast on a screen.

“I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry… I’d had too much to drink and-” You were panicking now, tears pricking at your eyes. As you felt yourself begin to crumble, his arms wrapped around you.

“Whoa, hey, hey. Steady there.” He guided you to the foot of the bed and sat you down, kneeling before you.

“I wont lie, Y/N, that hurt” he paused, sucking in air steadily through his mouth. “But I can tell you’ve been hurt before, by other guys. I promise you, I don’t do this. Ok, maybe I did when we first started touring and I was an excited, horny kid. But not now, not since... Look, I like you, a lot. I know we only met for the first time yesterday, but you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I want to carry on getting to know you.”

“You mean it, you really do?” You sniffed, feeling ridiculous and silently cursing your decision to drink so much last night.

He brought his hand to your face and gently wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

“Yes, who the fuck wouldn’t want to get to know you, angel?”

Utterly enamoured by his words, a crimson haze washed across your cheeks. Your heart fluttered from within your ribcage as you played his words over and over again in your mind, wanting to savour every droplet of the moment.

“So, are you going to be my tour guide today?” He beamed, breaking you from your trance.

“I’d really love to, but I don’t have anywhere to leave my stuff…” you gestured to the mess of your belongings surrounding you.

“Well, we’re staying just around the corner, I’d be happy for you to leave it in my room.”

~

The Uber drive to the hotel was short, you’d insisted on walking as it really wasn’t far at all, but Jake would not take no for an answer. When the cab pulled up outside the entrance, Jake was quick to walk around to your side and open the door for you, extending his hand out for you to take.

“A gentleman.” You giggled.

“I can be at times, love.” He winked, playfully feigning a Cockney accent.

He retrieved your bags and carried them up to his room, setting them down on the floor before sitting at the foot of his bed and looking up at you with a smile dancing on his lips.

“Would you like to meet my brothers?”

Now, suddenly nervous, you shuffled slightly on your feet. He noticed and beckoned you over to sit on his lap.

“I’d love to, I’m just worried they wont like me.”

“They are going to love you, because I do.”

You shot him a look and his eyes widened.

“Oh… no no. I didn’t… uh, I-”

You captured his face in your hands and kissed his lips softly.

“I know what you meant.” You hummed, tapping your finger lightly onto the tip of his nose. He softened and melted into you, capturing you in a kiss that knocked the air out of your lungs. You felt him smile and then his eyes met yours.

“Ok angel, let’s go meet them.”

After you got yourself ready properly, you shuffled out awkwardly into the hallway following closely behind Jake like a lost puppy. He stopped at the door just down from his and rapped his knuckles against the smooth rosewood.

“Coming!” A voice hollered.

The door swung open and there stood Josh, dressed in a cream sweatshirt and sand coloured slacks, beaming brightly. You were hit with an intoxicating scent that wrapped around you like velvet, spicy yet sweet, but warm and inviting. It was a delicious ensnaring of the senses, and you thought to yourself that this fragrance completely personified Josh and his captivating aura.

“Baby brother!” He exclaimed. “And who is this? Ah, you must be the beautiful young lady from our show last night. My dear, you are ethereal.” He took your hand and placed a dainty kiss on the back.

“Baby brother? I was born five minutes after you Josh!” Jake rolled his eyes. “And no making moves on this one, she’s mine.” That familiar feeling crept over you again as your cheeks were set ablaze.

“Hi Josh, it’s so lovely to meet you.” You giggled shyly. Josh moved aside and gestured for you both to come in.

“Please, sit.” He smiled, perching himself on the cream leather sofa and patting the seat next to him. You sat down and Jake took the seat beside you, effectively sandwiching you between the twins.

“This is Y/N, Josh.” Jake hummed eagerly.

“A divine name for a divine being.” Josh winked. “So, what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” Jake playfully hit his brother and began to answer, but was cut off by the door hurling open and another two men wondering in, bickering with one another.

“I’m just saying, Thor could totally take Superman. Josh, don’t you thi-”

“Sam, we have a guest.” Josh interrupted, motioning to you.

“Oh shit, hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“Hey! Nice to meet you.” Danny chimed in.

“Ohhhh, you’re the girl from the show last night. Niceeee.” Sam shot a look at Jake and raised his eyebrows in approval.

“Ok, will you all shut up!” Jake chuckled, raising his hand and pointing at the three boys who were all sniggering in unison. “This is Y/N.”

“It’s good to meet you both. Great show last night by the way.” You desperately wanted to steer the conversation away from the road it was currently going down, feeling yourself being consumed by embarrassment. “Jake said you guys wanted to explore London today, I’d be happy to show you around.”

“Beautiful, gracious, and thoughtful. Why on earth are you wasting yourself on our dear Jacob?” Josh teased. Jake lunged at Josh and they both grappled each other before submitting into a puddle of laughter on the floor.

“You better get used to that, doll. It’s a constant power struggle.” Danny smirked.

“We’d love for you to join us today, Y/N. Thanks for offering to babysit us.” Sam trilled, sitting down next to you and throwing his arm over your shoulder. “I can see us becoming fast friends.”

~

As you exited the hotel you felt the crisp air slap you in the face. The winter sun was singing against the cerulean sky, illuminating the world with her heavenly beams. You were bundled up in your woolly hat, a chunky oversized scarf, and a long-line, pillowy puffer coat. The boys didn’t seem to be phased by the cold, all significantly less swaddled.

“Are you guys like, immune to the cold or something?” You laughed.

“We grew up in Michigan, honey. We’re used to a lot of snow.” Sam remarked.

“Yeah, it’s permanently Christmas in Frankenmuth.” Danny added.

“So, pretty lady, where are you taking us?” Jake probed, pulling you close to him and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Surprise us.”

You nodded and lead the way, weaving through streets and partaking in casual conversation as you walked. You halted at a building and made your way in through the doors, feeling the rush of the central heating engulfing you. There was a counter in the corner of the room with a few employees dotted about.

“5 for crazy golf, please.” You addressed to the closest employee to you. She nodded and began ringing you up on the till, then bent down to retrieve 5 putters.

“Awesome! I’m gunna whoop all your asses!” Sam exclaimed excitedly.

“Hey! I’m the best golfer.” Danny bragged.

The employee placed the putters on the counter and looked up at her customers. “Holy SHIT! You’re Greta Van Fleet!” She blurted, mouth agape. “Can I get a picture with you?!”

“Of course! What’s your name, sweetheart?” Josh smiled, showcasing his signature toothy grin.

The employee visibly swooned, seeming to forget her name for a moment. She collected herself and replied “It’s Anna. Oh my god, thank you. I love you!”

“I love you too, Anna. Come on over.” Josh gestured to the group. You started to move out of the way, not wanting to intrude on their moment with a fan.

“Y/N, come here and get in the photo.” Jake called over.

“Are you sure?” You hesitated.

“Yeah of course babe!” The girl insisted.

You found a place next to Jake and he immediately draped his arm over you. A colleague of the girl snapped a few pictures and she excitedly took her phone back, gushing over the photos and proclaiming her gratitude. You all made your way back to the counter and the girl passed over the putters.

“It’s on the house, the least I can do!” She trilled with a gigantic smile.

“Thank you so much, Anna. Such a kind gesture.” Josh said, placing his hand over hers. As you began to walk away and start your game, Anna pulled you to one side.

“You’re so lucky! How do you know them?” She probed.

“I.. uh..” you started, but Jake’s arm looped around yours and he swiftly pulled you away towards the rest of the boys.

“Thanks so much again, Anna. Lovely to meet you.” Jake grinned with a wave.

“Thanks.” You breathed as he whisked you away from the uncomfortable scenario.

~

“How the fuck did you beat me?!” Sam exclaimed, jabbing Danny in the ribs. “I want a rematch!”

The game had been hilarious from start to finish, and it seemed to be just what the boys needed after a hectic few days of back-to-back shows. You’d learned a lot about them over the past 2 hours or so, and they now had a glimpse into the life that you led in the UK. You explored the city further after the game, sight-seeing, taking more photos with eager fans, and countless playful arguments between the 4 lads. You were thoroughly entertained watching them bicker, feeling the brotherly love that blossomed between them. After a lot of adventure, you settled into a pub to grab some long-awaited nourishment, but after you’d fed yourselves you ended up drinking. Now, fully immersed in a game of beer pong, intoxication was taking its hold.

“I really need to catch a train home soon, or I’ll be stuck in London.” You giggled, poking Jake playfully. He grabbed onto your wrist as you went in to jab him again and span you around, stalking you into a corner, away from prying eyes. He backed up against the wall and pulled at your waist so that your ass pressed up against him. You could feel how hard he was as he snaked his arm up across your chest and onto your throat. He jerked your head back, hand still gripped around your neck and lowered his head so that his lips were in line with your ear, softly brushing against your skin.

“Maybe, I don’t want you to.” He whispered, his other hand creeping down from your waist and lowering until his fingers gently caressed your throbbing pussy over your leggings. “Maybe, I want you to come back to my hotel room so I can fuck you until you’re trembling and cumming all over my sheets.”

You let out a strangled moan, and his hand left your heat and flew up to your mouth, muffling the noises you were making. You opened your mouth and let his fingers in, sucking on them to tease him right back, and reached your arm behind your head and to tangle your hand in his chestnut locks. He planted a kiss on your jawline and then released you, sauntering back to his brothers. You stood there for a moment, chest heaving, then quickly composed yourself and followed suit.

“Ha! Drink up, loser!” Sam roared at Danny as he sank his ball into the last cup on the table.

“We’re gunna call it a night.” Jake interjected.

“Ohhhh, I see. You kids have fun!” Sam taunted.

You said your goodbyes and made your way to the door alongside Jake.

“Be safe!” Josh called out with a wink. “See you again soon, Y/N? It’s been a pleasure.

~

You’d barely made it through the door of Jake’s hotel room and he was on you, like a man starved. His mouth finds yours and engulfs you in a passionate kiss, hungrily nibbling your bottom lip and coaxing his tongue inside to meet yours. You moan against him as he pulls you onto the bed and on top of him. You grind up against him vigorously, the friction hitting you in all the right places.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot” he breathes in between sloppy kisses. The electricity in the room is far more intense than the first time, now that you’ve had a taste and tested your limits you want to give him more. You hastily find his belt buckle and begin to undress his lower half. You claw at his zipper and rip his jeans off, delving into his boxers to release his cock from its restraint. It springs out and slaps against his stomach, hard as a fucking rock. You spit on your hand and wrap your fingers around his shaft, running them slowly up and down. His breath quickens with every pump. You meet his eyes and lower yourself so that your mouth is inches away, then lick an agonising stripe from the base up to his helmet, stopping to lap your tongue over the pre-cum forming at his tip. He begins to moan and bucks his hips slightly, so you take him by surprise by hollowing out your cheeks and swallow him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

“Oh, fuck!” He cries, balling his fist into your hair. Your head bobs a few times, and you cradle his balls at the same time.

“Y/N, can I?” He pants, as he begins to slowly move his hips. You look up at him, your eyes signalling the green light. He thrusts into your mouth and fucks your throat hard and fast. You feel your eyes start to water and try hard to fight off the inevitable gags, but as he keeps going you succumb and promptly gag around his length, the reflex constricting and tightening your throat. He whines and pulls you off him by your hair, a long string of spit being the only thing that still connects you. He looks at you with blackened eyes and shoves you onto your back, ripping off your leggings and panties.

“Your turn, Princess.”

He dives in between your legs, his tongue finding a home between your folds. You writhe underneath him as he eats your pussy as if it’s his last meal, savouring every drop. He laps over your clit expertly, teasing a symphony of wails from your lips. He inserts two fingers inside you and pumps in and out, curling them over the sweet spot inside you whilst continuing to suck and lick your sensitive bud. You feel that familiar pressure rising, the same as the night before, perhaps even more intense this time.

“Cum all over my fucking face, sweetheart.” He croons, and then you are. You plunge into absolute ecstasy as you gush over him and the bed sheets, soaking everything in sight. He continues to strum his fingers viciously over your clit like you are his beloved Les Paul as he prolongs your high.

“Oh fuck. Yes, Jake, fuck!!” You scream, not caring who hears, you are completely consumed in pleasure.

You hazily drift down from your high and notice the extent of the mess you’ve made. Jake’s face and hair are completely soaked.

“Fuck, baby. That was amazing.” He coos, drunk from arousal.

“Jake, fuck me. Please, fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow. I need you.” You plead. He pulls his shirt off with urgency and removes yours, palming at your breasts as he lines himself up with your entrance. He thrusts hard and fills you up, and you both moan in unison. It doesn’t take long before your cumming again, then he pulls out and barks for you to turn around. You flip yourself over and get onto your hands and knees, then he plunges inside you again. The new angle that he has you in is hitting all the right spots, as he fucks into you mercilessly. You cry out as he pounds into you, the bed creaking and slamming against the wall with every thrust.

“I’m… fuck. I’m not gunna last much longer, angel. Give me one more.”

He brings his hand around your hips and rubs circles into your clit, and within seconds you’re cumming for the third time.

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Such a good girl for me.”

“Oh fuck, that feels so fucking good, Jakey!” You screech out.

He growls at the pet name, as his hips stutter and you feel his sweet release fill you up. He chants your name like a prayer as your knees collapse underneath you. You stay there like that for a few moments, catching your breath. He gently pulls out of you and you hiss, already tender from his annihilation of you.

“I’m gunna grab a washcloth to clean you up, baby. You stay there, I’ll be right back.” You smile to yourself as he wanders off into the bathroom, and reach down to the side of the bed to retrieve your phone from your bag. It’s the first time you’ve checked it since the night before, and you’re startled by the sheer amount of notifications waiting for you. Your screen lights up as a call comes in, it’s your best friend. You answer and bring the phone up to your ear, feeling guilty that you left her in radio silence for so long.

“Hey, girl. I’m so sorry I-”

“Y/N?! I’ve tried to call you so many times. Have you seen?!”

“Have I seen what?”

“Uhhh.. everything! You’re trending, like everywhere. There’s photos of you with Greta Van Fleet!! Everyone thinks you’re Jake Kiszka’s new girlfriend!”

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fic #gresties #jake greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut #jake lane #jake kiszka fic #jake gvf smut #jakedown #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n #jacob thomas kiszka #jaket kiszka #jake kiszka x you

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 17)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reunion time

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i am SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! It's been almost 4 months since the last chapter yikes. Life got crazy then I got into a horrible writing block and this is the first thing I've written since July. I'll admit it sucks and is definitely a filler chapter but I promise more exciting stuff to come x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / 

read on ao3

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For the first time in weeks, your eyes open to rays of sunshine instead of cold darkness. Warm, rich scents flooded your senses, so vastly different from the stifling air of the prison cell you had become accustomed to. Instead of smelling damp, cold stone, you were greeted with the smell of fir trees and fresh air. Your limbs felt lighter, the weight of the chains that had been shackled to your wrists for ages long forgotten.The soft touch of a heavy blanket wrapped around you like an embrace, hugging your body.

You squinted at the harshness of the light, eyes not quite used to the brightness of the sun. You groaned and rolled over to get away from the luminous glow, but felt your body collide with something on the bed. After a couple blinks, your eyes began to focus on the lithe figure sitting next to you.

“Nesta…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, her name like a prayer on your mouth as she came into view. Nesta’s tall frame was seated cross-legged next to you, clad in a deep green gown with a wide neckline adorned with a lacy pattern of gold flowers. Her hands were clasped together tightly, resting upon her skirts. Her sharp face was muddled with concern, slate grey eyes hollow like her mind was elsewhere. 

But they snapped into focus once again at the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)” Nesta breathed, blinking a few times as if she couldn’t believe it was truly you. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You asked, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows but failing. You let out a groan, flopping back onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t try and sit up yet.” Nesta warned, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been out for two days. Your body has been through so much, the healers said to let you rest as much as possible.”

You took in a breath, taking in the sight of Nesta before you. A thousand emotions swelled up in you all at once, threatening to burst out and paint the room a hundred different colours. Your mate, your beautiful, strong mate had come to save you. Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat swelled up. “Nesta–” You croaked out.

“Shhh.” Nesta shushed, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You got out. We all did.”

You sighed. The escape from the Night Court seemed like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. “Are we in Autumn? I don’t remember getting here.”

Nesta nodded. “You passed out on Zôrzimril after we left Night. We’re in Eris’ personal residence in the woods. Beron doesn’t know you’re here.”

You glanced at the room around you, taking in the rich earthy tones signature to the Autumn Court. It was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings of Night. Lucien had told you that Eris had his own, elaborate place somewhere free of his father in the court. You had never stepped foot in it, until now, but had always wanted to.

“You’re in the room I’ve been staying in.” Nesta continued, a hint of a red blush across her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “Actually, it’s technically Eris’s–”

“Wait,” You interrupted her. “I’m in Eris’s bed? You’ve been sleeping in Eris’s bed?”

Nesta’s blush deepened. “It’s his personal residence. He doesn’t exactly have guest rooms.”

“Where has he been staying then?” 

“When he’s not at his father’s palace, the couch, apparently. Don’t feel bad for him, that couch is big enough for 3 people to sleep comfortably, limbs spread out and all.”

You snorted, ignoring the fact that you were laying in Eris’ personal bed. You expected to feel a twinge of jealousy that Nesta had been staying in this room, so up close and personal with Eris. But none came. Something which surprised you, given Nesta was your mate, and mates were supposed to be territorial. 

It was like a bucket of ice water was washed over you as you recalled the realisations you came to over the last few days. Nesta didn’t know she was your mate – she thought she was Cassian’s.

Estelle’s words rang in your head. Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.

It confused you – Cassian sure acted like a mated male around Nesta, even more so once Rhys mentioned it at the Court of Nightmares. Why would the High Lord lie about it? Did anyone else know? A million questions swarmed through you, each one louder than the last.

You recalled Nesta telling you the story of Feyre finding out about the mating bond with Rhys. How angry she was when she found out that the male had known for months and didn’t tell her. Deep down, you knew Nesta would be angrier the longer you kept it from her. “Nesta,” You began. “There’s something you need to know–”

“Good morning, my sunshines.” The smooth voice of Eris echoed throughout the room as the door swung open, interrupting you. The prince strolled in, red hair gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. He was carrying a tray, steaming with freshly baked pastries, tea, and fruits. “I see (Y/N) has risen from the dead!”

“You’re not funny, Eris.” Nesta snapped. 

“I disagree.” Eris quipped, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “(Y/N) think’s I’m hilarious, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You snorted. “If you pass me that bacon and egg sandwich I’ll give you this one.”

Eris smirked, placing the requested item onto a gold plate and passing it to you. “Deal.”

You eagerly grabbed the sandwich, taking as big of a bite as your mouth would allow. It burned your tongue, but you didn’t care. It took everything in you not to moan as the rich flavours filled your taste buds. “This is amazing.” You mumbled.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Well I suppose anything would taste good after being basically starved in a dungeon.”

“Seriously, Eris. Shut up.” Nesta seethed, shooting a deadly glare at him. You snorted, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of seriousness behind it. Plenty of times you had been witness to Nesta snapping at people, but this was different. Her tone didn’t have the same bite to it that it did with others – no, it was more playful. She turned back to you, eyes softening. “How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Tired. Like I’ve just done the workout of the century and need a week’s worth of sleep. I don’t want to leave this bed for at least another few days.”

Grey eyes met amber ones as Nesta and Eris exchanged an uneasy glance. For that moment, the only sound was the rustling of the wind coming through the windows. “What?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Eris sighed, walking around the corner of the bed. He was dressed in a simple red shirt with loose sleeves, the top slightly unlaced and exposing the pale skin underneath. Very rarely had you seen the prince dressed so casually. He grabbed your ankles through the thick duvet, lifting your legs up slightly and moving them to the side to make space for him to sit across from Nesta. Eris kept his hands on your legs, gently squeezing them.

“You’ve survived a lot of hard things lately, (Y/N).” He said slowly. “And you’ve overcome one of the most difficult parts. But I’d be lying if I said it was going to get a lot easier.”

A lump formed in your throat. Truthfully, over the past few weeks you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of what life would be like if you escaped Night and got to Autumn. There were still dozens of factors to consider, all of which you had given up on figuring out solutions to.

“I have to explain to my father how and why you are here, which will be difficult.” Eris continued. “He already blew a fuse over Nesta’s unexpected arrival. It is likely a second unexpected arrival will be even worse, and he will not take it lightly.”

You shifted in the pillows, running a hand through your hair. Surprisingly, you weren’t met with the knots and tangles you expected from not being able to brush your own hair for weeks. “Your father will hurt you, won’t he?” You said to Eris.

He hesitated before speaking. “Let me worry about that, my dear. We need to convince my father there’s a good reason for you to stay. I’ve already used the marriage card on Lady Nesta here, so we need to figure out something else.”

“What about my…” Your words trailed off as you tried to think of a word to describe what exploded out of you during the escape. “Magic?”

Eris shook his head. “Not an option. He cannot know about that.”

“Why not? Surely he’ll find out eventually?”

“Likely not. Rhysand is not stupid enough to let slip that he let someone with that kind of ability escape his court. And I have reason to believe Tamlin will stay quiet about it as well.”

“Speaking of that kind of ability,” Nesta interjected. “What even was that? I didn’t know you–”

“Yeah, me neither.” You said, locking your fingers together and twirling them around. You lowered your head, avoiding their gazes. “Something…. something happened when I was in there.”

Eris cocked his head, eyes burning with curiosity. “What happened?”

Nesta grabbed your hands, unlocking your clammy fingers and lacing her own between them. She shot a fierce look at Eris. “She doesn’t have to talk about it now.” She hissed.

“Yes, Nesta, she does.” Eris said calmly before turning back to you. “I wish we had more time to let you rest, I really do, but I need to know what happened before I can figure out what story to spin to my father.”

You let out a sigh. “Why can’t we just kill him first so we don’t have to deal with all of this?”

Nesta snorted, earning an eye roll from Eris. “As much as I would love to be rid of my father,” Eris said. “We have to wait before we take him out. There are things that need to be properly aligned, and it takes planning.”

“Haven’t you been planning?” You fired back. “I mean, plotting and scheming is all you do in your spare time, isn’t it?”

A smirk formed at the edge of Eris’s lips. “The officials in this court need to see Beron accept you and Nesta if they’re going to accept you. We risk a coup if we kill him before then. Now, tell me what happened while you were in that cell.”

Nesta’s steady hand on your weak one evened your breathing slightly. You tore your gaze from the pattern on the sheets and you drank in the sight of her as if it could slip away at a moment's notice. She looked stronger, healthier than she had in Night. She carried herself more confidently, less stiff and rigid. She looked more comfortable in her own skin, something that filled you with pride. But also sorrow – sadness at the fact you hadn’t been there to witness this change.

And so you explained everything – the vision you had, the conversation with Estelle, what happened that day Hybern came to your village. Nesta’s face was twisted with confusion and awe as you went on, whereas Eris’ expression was unreadable. 

“But that wasn’t everything.” You murmured, heart beginning to race as you prepared to explain the part you dreaded most. 

“There’s more?” Nesta asked, eyes wide. “You’re telling me you’re the Mother incarnate, and there’s more than that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes once again. These next few words could ruin everything. You knew Nesta hated the idea of mates, the concept of being shackled to someone just because a higher being thought you’d produce good offspring. Nesta already had to process what Rhysand said about Cassian being her mate, and you were about to make it a whole lot worse. You couldn’t stop those tears from spilling down your face as a sob left your body.

“Hey…” Eris spoke softly, reaching out to brush one of the tears off your cheek. “It’s ok.”

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was cautious, laced with concern.

“You’re my mate.” Your voice shook as you dragged the words out. You fixed your gaze on the sheets again, not wanting to see Nesta’s reaction.  

“What?” She said quietly.

“Cassian isn’t your mate,” You said, more steady this time. “I am. Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours.”

For once, not even the wind rustled in response. It was as if the world had gone quiet. You could feel her surprise, like a rush of cold water surging through that link between you two. You tried to reach her through the bond, to get a sense of what else she was feeling, but you were met with a stone cold wall.

Nesta. You tried. But she had shut you out, eyes vacant as she took in the information. Wordlessly, Nesta removed her hands from yours. Your skin cried out at the loss of warmth, missing the contact already. She uncrossed her legs and climbed off the bed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

A sob wracked your body again, harder this time. Wet droplets appeared on the sheets as tears rolled off your face, and you buried your head in your hands. Even after everything you’d endured, this was somehow the worst.

You felt a shift on the bed as Eris scooted up closer to you. “It’ll be okay.” You heard his voice murmur in that scarce gentle tone.

“You don’t know that.” You choked out. One of your fears had come true. Everything you and Nesta had built up over the last few months – the quiet friendship, the few sacred kisses you shared that set your entire body alight, the easiness during training with Gwyn and Emerie, it all came crashing down. Whatever she had felt for you mattered now, she wouldn’t want to be shackled even more than she already has.

“When you were asleep, Nesta spent hours untangling your hair.” 

You lifted your head from your hands at Eris’ voice, meeting his soft gaze. “It was a mess,” He continued. “Took her the entire afternoon. But she was so gentle, and not breaking a single strand. She didn’t take a single break, and even after she was done she remained by your side until the sun came up. I set up the couch for her, but she insisted on sleeping next to you.”

Eris gently touched your hand. It was warm against your skin, which you felt was still thawing from the cold of Rhys’ dungeon. “Nesta has had a lot to take in the last few weeks, as you well know. I’ve been training her powers, but my father has insisted that a demonstration of her magic be made before the marriage is to happen. I have no doubt that–”

“Did you know?” You blurted out before the prince could finish his sentence. It was a question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you found out Nesta was your mate – Eris had a knack for finding out things long before others knew. You had no doubt that the second he found out about the spell you and Nesta cast, he had delved into hours of research trying to figure out as much about it as possible. He was a clever male, one who fought with knowledge and scheming rather than brute force like Cassian.

Eris was silent for a moment before speaking. “I suspected. There were too many unknown factors to bring it up, I wanted to be sure before I told Nesta. I found old manuscripts dating back thousands of years – the text was faded, but it went into more details about the specifics of the spell between Estelle and Jayana. There were too many parallels between it and the mating bond. I figured the only explanation was that a mating bond had to already be in place for the spell to truly link.”

You sighed. If Nesta found out that Eris might have known as well and kept it from her, she would be even angrier. “Eris, Nesta doesn’t trust easily. You should have told her this the second you got the idea in your head. Now she’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

“She’s not pissed at you, my dear.” Eris gently stroked your hand with his thumb, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. “Give her a few hours to process. Then we can all sit down and figure out what to do next, okay? Now rest for a bit longer, you need to get your strength back.”

You nodded, heart aching at the image of Nesta storming out of the room. Laying back, you settled back into the plush bedding, wishing it would swallow you up whole. Eris reached down and pulled the duvet closer to you, gently tucking you in. “Sleep well, darling.” He whispered. Before you could process it, Eris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled at the sensation, still feeling like it was slowly thawing from the cold of the dungeon. 

There was so much more you wanted to say, a thousand questions you wanted to ask Eris, but the prince retreated as quickly as he came leaving you to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted off again, heart aching at the absence of Nesta’s presence.

 *********************

A few hours later, you smoothed your hands over the skirts of the dress Eris’s servants had laid out for you. It was a rich brown colour with a square neckline and loose sleeves -- elegant, yet comfortable. You had no clue where Eris had been pulling this wardrobe from, but that was besides the point. Grogginess continued to plague you, although less so than before. Even with your fae healing, it would take a while for you to return to your full strength – something you had Rhysand to thank for.

Your hands curled into fists, nails scraping through your palms as you thought of the High Lord of the Night Court. A sick feeling curled in your gut as you recalled his smug face as he sent his dark powers slicing through your skin. Every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that dungeon, chained up and helpless against the male. You hated it, hated him. You hated how much his slimy face crossed your mind, how the faint scars along your wrists would never truly fade. Your mind flashed with memories of riding atop Zorzimril, burning down Rhys and Feyre’s many castles, the orange flames lighting up the night sky as you burned and burned them. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel better.

Shaking your head as if to push memories of Rhysand out of your mind, you wandered towards the door on unsteady legs. As the door swung open, you were greeted with a long hallway lined with elegant torches. You looked back and forth, unsure which way to go. You didn’t even know Eris had this residence, let alone how to navigate it. But then you felt something, a slight pull deep inside of you that urged you to go left. Aimlessly, you followed it, wandering down the hallway before coming to a beautiful wooden arch that marked the entryway into the living room. In awe, you scanned the space before you. A series of couches and armchairs were placed around the room, some by a fireplace and some by the high bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. It was decorated in rich autumnal colours, the scent of cinnamon and apple cider filling the air. It had a modest dining table and three chairs, and a set of doors that seemingly led to a pathway outside.

Nesta and Eris occupied two of the chairs, sitting across from each other in silence. Eris was humming quietly, writing something down on a piece of parchment. His red hair looked more orange in the candlelight, and was braided loosely. Nesta sat stoically, staring into nothing. She had a cup of tea in front of her, but no steam emitted from it. Clearly she had been there a while, tea untouched. Her face was grave, but her head whipped to face you as you stepped through the archway.

You wanted to throw up with nerves. You had always been able to read Nesta’s expressions until now. Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions, passing so quickly between each one it was impossible to tell what they were. My mate, my mate, my mate, rang like a war bell in your head so loud it threatened to drown out any sounds from the outside world. You felt the bond in your chest swell in her presence, stronger than anything you’d felt before. There was no denying it – Nesta was your mate.

“May I join you?” You finally managed to ask through a dry throat. Nesta said nothing and just kept staring at you.

“By all means,” Eris piped up, setting his pen down. “Come join the party. We’re having a grand old time here, aren’t we, Nesta?”

You expected Nesta to roll her eyes or snap at him in that playful manner, but it was as if she didn’t even hear Eris. She just kept looking at you as if she wasn’t sure if you were really there. You carefully walked over, taking a seat between Nesta and Eris at the head of the table where the remaining chair was. Her grey gaze followed you the whole way.

“What have you guys been up to while I was out?” You asked.

Eris sighed. “Well, my dear, I informed Nesta of what I began to suspect regarding the bond. She tore me a new one for not telling her, it was very dramatic. So now we’re sitting in silence trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at the lines in the wood of the table. You felt frozen – afraid of saying the wrong thing. Nesta had never wanted to be fae, and you knew having a mating bond must make that worse for her. It would make her even more shackled to this life she didn’t want, chipping away at her remaining humanity piece by piece. Sure, you and Nesta had kissed a few times and there was feeling behind it, but that didn’t mean she wanted you as a life partner. And even with that, Estelle had said Nesta had multiple mates. If Cassian was not one of them, then who was? 

Eris’s sigh broke your thoughts. “By the Mother, you two are stubborn.” He huffed. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Nesta, (Y/N), you are mates. I suspected it a few days after I found out about the spell you two cast, as it needed an already existing bond to latch onto in order to work. But then things get complicated. Somehow, Rhys is wrong about Cassian being Nesta’s mate. Either they’re the best actors I’ve seen, or there is something linking Nesta and Cassian.”

You saw Nesta’s throat bob at the mention of Cassian. Trying to figure out how he was connected to Nesta hurt your brain. 

“I felt something with Cassian,” Nesta said tensely. “Not in that way, but I could feel what he felt as if part of him lived within me. How is that not a mating bond?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. There’s something strange going on there. However, none of that matters until we deal with my father. I am set to marry Nesta, which puts us in an awkward situation. If Nesta pleases my father with her powers, then she is to be wed to me.”

“When is that supposed to be happening?” You asked. You weren’t sure how you felt about Eris and Nesta getting married. Part of you was jealous, resentful at the idea of Nesta marrying someone else. But there was another part of you that felt differently in a way you couldn’t explain. Like you were being left out not just from Nesta’s life, but Eris’s too.

“Tonight.” Eris said gravely.

Your blood froze. “Tonight?”

“Yes. And no offence my dear, but you complicate things. Because now I have to explain to my father why you are here too and why I keep letting in strays.”

You snorted. “Beron’s going to kill me. I think you already pissed him off by letting Nesta in here without his permission. I’m not even half as valuable to him as she is, we both know he won’t have any use for me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Nesta finally spoke, her voice fierce. You turned to face her and were met with her silver eyes. They stared into you, swimming with a thousand emotions.

“Whatever happens, Beron won’t touch you.” She continued evenly.

“We just have to play the angle right.” Eris said, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. “You spied for Rhysand, correct?”

You scoffed. “Well, technically–”

“Yes, you did.” Eris interrupted sternly. “You spied for Rhysand, and then you found out what he was planning and tried to flee. He’s been hunting you down, and I found you at the Autumn Court border. That is the story we are going with.”

“What exactly did I find out that made me flee?”

“That he’s planning on becoming High King with Nesta’s Made sword.”

“Beron won’t believe that.”

“He will because it’s true.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. “What?” You spoke in a whisper, mind reeling in shock. The thought of Rhysand using Nesta’s weapons and declaring himself as High King over all of Prythian made you want to throw up.

“Based on my intel, the lovely Amren has been trying to convince him to go down that path.” Eris explained through gritted teeth. “Apparently he refused at first, but I strongly believe that with you and Nesta both having fled his grasp, he will reconsider his stance to get you back under his control.”

“If Rhysand was High King then he’d have dominion over the Autumn Court,” You muttered. “We would be right back where we started.”

Eris nodded. “But we can use this. My father would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen, overlook anything. If you inform him of Rhysand’s plans, he’ll want you on his side for more intel.”

“Would Beron really be so quick to trust someone who’s supposedly betraying their own court?”

“My dear, Rhysand locked you in a dungeon. That part we don’t have to lie about. We just have to twist the reasons why he locked you up. But truthfully, I think my father will be so distracted by the intel he won’t care about anything else.”

You chewed on your lower lip with worry. It was a big gamble, and while Eris was clever Beron was still unpredictable. So many things could go wrong so fast, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in another dungeon. The thought of doing so made you want to curl up into a ball.

As if sensing your discomfort, Nesta placed her hand on top of yours. It was warm, such a difference from how frail and cold her hands were in the Night Court. “It’ll be ok.” She murmured. 

You smiled softly, relaxing instantly under her touch. 

“And that’s my cue,” Eris announced, gathering his papers and standing up. “I suspect you two have much to discuss alone. I must go ensure everything is prepared for dinner with my father tonight. I’ve left instructions with the servants on how to get you ready, and I will be by to collect you both at five o’clock.”

He strode towards the archway, but paused briefly. Amber eyes landed on you and Nesta again, all playfulness gone. “I have done my part, and will do whatever I can to ensure your safety.” He said gravely. “But do not forget that you both have roles to play, and we all risk our heads if you fail to do so. And if you have any thoughts about betraying me to save your own skin, Beron will no longer be the one you need to fear from my family. I will throw you both to the wolves without hesitation if you think about dragging me down with you.”

With that, the prince left, leaving you and Nesta sitting in silence. Eris’s words stung you a bit, that he thought you would even think about betraying him. But Eris had been playing this song and dance with his father for centuries, and at the end of the day no matter how much he’d helped you, he’d always look out for himself. It was something you were aware of when you planned this, and you mentally kicked yourself for ignoring it.

The few minutes after Eris’s departure were filled with silence. No birds chirped in the windowsill, no breeze rustled the branches. It was as if the world had stopped, waiting on the edge of its seat for you and Nesta to speak. 

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. How could you comprehend what Nesta felt when you didn’t even know how you truly felt? A part of you had always loved Nesta, but were those your true feelings or just the mating bond? All those tender moments, the stolen kisses, the soft touches, would they have happened if the mating bond wasn’t already there? The thought of your connection with Nesta stemming from magic rather than your true feelings made your heart hurt. You had never wanted a mating bond, yet here you were.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, you found the courage to speak. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nesta?”

Nesta took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers for a minute before answering. “How a few weeks ago I was ready to burn down the entire Night Court to get you back. How every second you were in that dungeon I was here, living comfortably. How every time I closed my eyes I saw glimpses of darkness, how I felt your fear. How all that time, I thought it was the spell allowing me to feel those things. I never could have imagined…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to even speak about the bond. “Me too,” You replied. “Look, I know things are hard for us right now. And you don’t have to accept the bond if you don’t want–”

Nesta sharply cut you off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to accept it. I just don’t know what to believe right now. Estelle said Cassian wasn’t one of my mates, but I swear I felt a bond. Was she wrong about that? And does that mean she was wrong about us?”

“I can’t speak for Cassian, but I don’t think she was wrong about us. And I think you know it too, Nesta.”

Nesta looked up at you, grey eyes brimming with emotion. You felt a gentle tug at the bond and inhaled sharply. She smiled softly at your reaction, confirming everything she needed to know.

“Nesta…” You breathed her name like a prayer on your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you admired that tender smile.

“I’m sorry for running off on you earlier.” She said quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. You, being my mate. After everything that happened between us…”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears. “But was all of it real? I mean, if we were mated the whole time, did everything happen between us because of the bond, or because of us?”

Nesta blinked slowly. “It was real to me.”

“Me too.”

You stroked Nesta’s wrist with your thumb, rubbing it in circular motions. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling everything both you and Nesta were experiencing at once. All you wanted to do was sit here and stare at your beautiful mate, forgetting about everything else. To let the rest of the world fall away beneath your feet as long as you could stay in this moment forever.

But realistically, you knew you had to face the challenges. “What about Eris?” You asked quietly. “You’re supposed to marry him, where does that put us?”

The Archeron sister bit her lip anxiously. “I don’t know. I’m sure Eris and I will be free to see whomever we wish as long as we are discreet and are able to maintain our image.”

You laughed humourlessly. “So then I’d become your mistress.”

“That’s not what I want for either of us. But I don’t see another way right now.”

You tried not to let it sting. You weren’t stupid – Eris marrying Nesta was necessary in your plan, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially now that you two were mated. The thought of simply being your mate's secret mistress made you feel slimy and ashamed. “How do you feel about marrying Eris?” You asked tentatively.

Nesta shrugged, but a faint red stained her cheeks. “It’s a smart move. It makes sense. And he’s not the worst male I’ve met so I think I’ll live.”

You chuckled, causing Nesta to glare at you. “Your face is red, Nesta. Admit it, you like him.”

“I don’t. He’s insufferable.” Nesta’s face only grew redder as she looked away.

Your laugh only grew louder. “Liar.”

“Fine!” Nesta snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks and he’s grown on me, ok? Does it not bother you as my mate for me to admit I like him? It feels wrong. I’m mated to you, not him.”

“No.” You answered honestly, which surprised you. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s charming. Besides, I’ve had a crush on him since I was like twenty, so…”

Your voice trailed off with embarrassment as you realised what you had just admitted. You had never told anyone about your crush on Eris, and had been determined to die with this secret. Your face went red, and Nesta burst out laughing. 

“Look whose face is red now?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands. “If you ever tell him I said that I’ll strangle you.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, please. He’s Eris. He probably already knows.”

You groaned, banging your head into the wood of the table a few times. It was strange and yet comforting to know that Nesta liked Eris. You expected a mately surge of jealousy and possessiveness, but none came. 

After a few more minutes of laughter, a comfortable silence took over the room before you each chose a book from the shelf and began to read. The hours began to pass by, and you stared at Nesta as she flipped through the pages, how beautiful she was with the autumn glow upon her. You wanted to memorise every inch of her features before the dinner with Beron tonight, the thought of which made your gut churn.

It was a quarter to five when the shuffled footsteps of four servants came into the room. It was time to prepare.

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#ialtpwf #acotar #nesta archeron #nesta x eris #neris #neris x reader #nesta archeron x eris vanserra #poly!neris #nesta archeron fic #pro nesta archeron #nesta archeron supremacy #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #anti rhysand #anti inner circle #anti feyre archeron #acosf au #autumn court #anti cassian #anti nessian #anti morrigan #anti amren #anti ic #sjm #a court of silver flames #acosf rewrite #slowburn

[violetsiren90]

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 2 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon x f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; Talk and depictions of cancer, its treatment, and the symptoms of both; implication of some disregard for personal agency by entertainment and medical industries; MC is diagnosed with asthma and experiences symptoms; flashbacks of a distressing situation; soulmate first touch & subsequent skinship; partial disrobing for medical purposes; medical setting and minor treatments; some social awkwardness; talk of food, eating, and alcohol consumption in the context of a soulmate AU

Author's Note: Chapter 2 is here! I tried my best to write Namjoon's response under the circumstances, but honestly I don't know how well it was executed. Let me know what you think in the comments/asks! I'm super open to constructive criticism and feedback. Also, I did my best with the Korean phrases and medical jargon. If anyone has more extensive knowledge on those subjects and wants to fact-check, please let me know!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.”

~ Pablo Neruda

Chapter 2: Touching Me, Touching You

    When you touched down at Incheon International Airport, you and Matt were greeted by a rather unnecessarily large party of Hybe personnel in black plainclothes wearing masks who snatched up your baggage and ushered you into the first of a small fleet of black SUV's. The member of the legal advisory team who had visited you in the states, Choi Kang Dae, was riding shotgun and speaking into a cell phone that had not left his ear since departing the baggage claim. In the row behind you was another man you assumed to be a translator, given his fluency in English, but who was currently chopping it up with Matt in Korean, and beside him a large, serious, silent man whose eyes kept traveling to you every now and again. You assumed that meant that the rest of the ensemble filling the vehicles behind you were security, which somehow made you feel less rather than more at ease.

The further you advanced in traffic through the busy streets of Seoul, the more anxious you became. A thousand questions began to flood your brain as your heart began to hammer in your chest. If all these people had come to meet you, were you headed to the hospital now? Weren't you supposed stop at your accommodations first? If you didn't, would you even have a chance to shower a day's worth of airport off before meeting your soulmate? Were you about to bond right now? Would people be watching? Would it hurt? Why hadn't you ever thought of these things before? You felt a familiar tightness in your chest and pulled out your inhaler. An asthma attack right now? They always seemed to strike at the most inopportune times.

Matt was suddenly turning to you.

    "Hey, you okay?" he asked, looking at the inhaler you were shaking for a second puff.

You slowly exhaled and nodded.

    "I'm fine. But where are we going right now, can you ask them?"

The translator asked the Kang Dae something in Korean, and after he responded, the other man turned to you.

    "We're going to the hospital. Namjoon-ssi had a seizure last night due to a prolonged high-grade fever, so we are trying to act as quickly as possible to avoid further complications."

Matt turned to the translator.

    "This should have been the first thing we heard when we stepped off that plane. I'm not trying to play hardball here, but we're going to have to be communicated with about every step of this process so we can decide how we're going to respond. This was in the contract, communication and a chance to speak with me before she makes any step in this process..."

Matt slipped in and out of English as the attorney apologetically reassured him through the translator of their full intent to follow the contractual specifications. You felt sick, and your heart continued to hammer - though now for different reasons. You had been worried about a shower while he was fighting for his life. This was no time for nerves. You had to fight for his life too.

    When the vehicle pulled into the ambulance bay, you and Matt were handed surgical masks and ushered, with security and other Hybe personnel in tow, through the ICU and into a massive steel elevator. You watched the round button number "5" light up red as Kang Dae pushed it with a gloved hand. After the brief assent, the doors opened into a space that looked like it was straight out of a Star Trek episode - floor to ceiling white, blinding fluorescent lights, and hospital workers covered from head to toe in sterile garments ebbing and flowing in urgent silence to and fro to the rhythmic serenading hums and beeps of medical equipment. You blinked in the offending brightness.

Your party was immediately approached by a small woman with a tablet and stylus who addressed Kang Dae. You heard your name mentioned. You heard Matt's. After a brief exchange with the Hybe attorney, Matt relayed that you were going to meet with Namjoon's oncologist. Kang Dae turned to address the security staff, and his words were met with nods and murmurs of acknowledgment except by the tall, serious man from the SUV, who responded to the attorney in a low but firm tone, his eyes flashing over to you as he spoke. You looked over to Matt, your brow creased in question. He watched as Kang Dae concluded the exchange and lead your now small group of four to follow the petite woman down a long, wide hall. As you walked, Matt leaned down to whisper in your ear.

    "It appears the indignant gentleman is your personal bodyguard. Seems he's reluctant to stay behind with the rest of security."

You glanced in surprised curiosity over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of the guard seated beside the rest of the team, elbows propped on his knees and hands clasped under his chin, a pensive expression on his rugged features, before he disappeared from view as you rounded a bend.

    The hall connected to a labyrinth of others, snaking off left and right, and punctuated with massive, heavy doors. Your guide abruptly swung left to face one of the entrees, flashing a badge card across a sensor which beeped, allowing her to push it inward. It opened into a suite of rooms much homier than the atmosphere behind you, though every bit as sterile.

In the vestibule was a small acrylic table surrounded by matching chairs. As you passed through you noted to the right, a small kitchenette, and to the left a rather large bathroom. At the end of the suite, you shuffled into a large room, separated on the far left end by a curtain. The space in which you stood was fitted with grey leather furniture, a tall bamboo plant in the corner, and a low acrylic coffee-table. An older, distinguished looking man in a white jacket stood from where he had been seated in one of the arm chairs and bowed. Your group bowed in return, and the translator asked that you be seated.

Dr. Na, as the man in the coat was introduced, would run through some last matters with you before you were to meet your soulmate. He relayed through the translator that this hospital was state of the art, Korea's finest, and a frontrunner in successful experimental treatments for cancer and other genetic diseases. The room you were occupying, he said, was a suite meant for long-term inpatient care, and would be nearly identical to the space you would share with Namjoon for the remainder of his inpatient treatment. He explained that Namjoon's condition has been detected far later than was desirable, and that treatments had included invasive surgery and aggressive rounds of chemotherapy, which had slowed, but not stopped the spread of tumors throughout his body. He said that Namjoon had displayed extreme physical and emotional resilience, but that his will to fight the disease overtaking his body had begun to wane with his strength and increasingly burdensome symptoms from both the cancer and its treatment.

At this point, Dr. Na turned to face Matt full on, and earnestly imparted to him while gesticulating at you. Matt's brow furrowed, and he nodded as he listened to the oncologist before turning serious eyes toward you. Kang Dae began to say something, but the doctor held up his hand while also turning his eyes toward you with an expectant gaze. 

    "Y/n," Matt began, interlacing his fingers as he often did when trying to choose his words carefully, "Dr. Na says that there is not a lot of research around treating cancer, especially at such an advanced stage, with the soulmate bond. There are accounts of it having seemingly miraculous effects on injury and illness, but none that have been objectively measured. It has been scientifically proven to a degree that soulmates bring about peak physical conditions in one another through the bond...over time. The thing the good doctor here really wants you to understand is that there is no guarantee that there is enough time in our situation. He says that bonding with him is going to be a major risk. If the treatment isn't successful and Namjoon should pass, that would mean your ultimate death soon after."

Matt's face had lost most of its stoicism. He looked deeply worried. He looked like he wanted you to get on a plane with him back to the States. He looked like he knew what you were going to do instead. You see, you had already thought about it - the possibility of death. You nodded.

     "Tell him I understand, Matt," you said calmly, "Tell him I'd like to meet Namjoon-ssi."

Matt stared at you for a beat, as if debating with himself before turning back to relay your message to Dr. Na. The oncologist nodded, and then turned to you and asked another question in Korean. The translator explained that the doctor wanted to know if you understood the basic implications of the soul-bond. You sighed. You did.  You knew that once bonded you would be reliant on each other for nourishment and survival until the end of your natural lives, and that the bond once established was irreversible. You knew the bond was initiated and maintained through skin-to-skin contact. You knew that the bond changed your body chemistry to no longer need food or water, and that food would eventually be rejected by the body like poison. You knew these things because you had done extensive research, not because anyone in the company asking for you to give over your body and soul had tried to make you aware. They had been interested in matters of signatures and compensation. How considerate of someone to ask you now, you thought with some contempt. You wondered what Namjoon knew, what he had been told, what he had been asked. 

     "I would like to meet my soulmate now," you said suddenly, cutting through the exchange between Dr. Na and Kang Dae.

All eyes turned on you, leaving in half-finished sentences a wake of mild surprise. "I know what I'm getting into on my end of things. You had expressed before that time was of the essence and I would like to be brought to him now."

Matt relayed your response to the group, and the doctor nodded. Soon you were being handed a hospital gown, and a sports bra, underwear, and socks from your suitcase - that you realized with a bit of alarm and indignation, you had not given anyone permission to retrieve - and were instructed to shower and change into these items. 

     You slipped into the bathroom and sank down on the closed toilet, dropping your head onto the little bundle of clothes in your arms.  In your first few moments alone in over twenty-four hours, everything was beginning to hit like a volley of arrows. Agendas, agendas. Hybe wanted your soulmate. The hospital wanted to beat his cancer. You wanted to help him live. But what did he want? Had anyone asked? Would he be honest, if they did? Not for the first time, something squeezed in your chest at the thought of him. But this time, it was stronger. Your head shot up from your lap. You had somewhere to be.

    After a quick and thorough wash-up, you padded into the hall where the little group awaited you. You were self-conscious in your limited attire, and you stood awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the next as people murmured in Korean. A nurse, who had joined the small throng, approached you, slipping a hospital bracelet with your name and Hangul characters and little numbers around your wrist and handing you a pair of grey slippers. Matt turned to you.

    "This is it, kiddo. You're going to go with Dr. Na and have your vitals taken, have some blood drawn, and then you'll go meet him."

Matt sighed deeply, his eyes searching yours. He took a backward glance and stepped just a bit closer, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You sure about this?"

You nodded.

    "Yes, Matt, I'm sure."

He pulled his mouth in into a tense line, his brows drawing together.

    "That face you're making, that defiance in your eyes," his hand fell from your shoulder, "You could be his twin. I know I can't change your mind now. Nothing could."

You gave a knowing smile. He wasn't wrong. 

    "I'm gonna be okay, Matt. I'll see you tomorrow. Call my mom and tell her things went fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Matt scratched the back of his head, regarding you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. He bent to press a kiss to your forehead, and turned to make his polite goodbyes.

    The nurse ushered you down the hall and into a room that looked a little more like a typical hospital room with a gauze-covered table, a scale, and other vaguely familiar machines and equipment. After she had collected the desired data and taken a vial of your blood, she made a page in Korean, and then motioned for you to follow her. She took you down another series of passages and finally, when you were sure Theseus himself couldn't have found his way back, she stopped in front of a large steel door and scanned her badge.

Room number 594.

The door opened on its heavy hinges, swinging slowly inward. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You realized the moment you crossed the threshold  that you didn't have your things. You didn't have your phone, or your bag, or the book that was inside it, or what was between the pages of the book.

You thought about pear-shaped Italian cheese as you crossed through the kitchen area.

You thought about little Diana trying to stop your mother from crying as she lay on the floor of the kitchen, body shaking with sobs, as you moved into large open room at the end of the suite.

And then, there he was. It was all you could do not to gasp.

    You would never have recognized him for the man in the photo Diana had shoved into your face last week. Sitting propped up in a large hospital bed, he was covered up to the waist in blankets. His frame, though unmistakably large, was gaunt, and his white tee draped around him like something that used to fit - patches and wires visible across his chest through the cotton fabric. His long arms were thinner than they should have been, ashy, and littered with bruises. His head leaned back against the pillows, he wore a black beanie low on his brow, but not low enough to hide the naked skin where his eyebrows had been. His full lips were chapped and parted as he labored somewhat to breathe. The doctor was speaking to a tall man in a black tee and jeans beside the bed. Namjoon was watching them, until, suddenly, his gaze flicked to you. Your breath caught in your chest. His eyes were unchanged. Something flooded your veins.

    "I need to speak with Namjoon-ssi, please," you said abruptly, turning to the doctor and the man beside him.

They looked at you, quizzically. You cleared your throat to speak again, slower and more firmly.

"Could I be alone with him, for a moment? I need to speak with him before we begin."

The doctor turned to say something to the tall man, but a voice from the hospital bed addressed them in a soft, deep timbre. The tall man glanced at you and then at Namjoon and replied. They held a short exchange before both he and the doctor filed reluctantly out of the room, taking the nurse with them.

Namjoon sat further up in the bed, his face contorting in pain as you approached him. You stood a few feet from where he sat, your hands inexplicably itching to reach out for him. You clasped them behind your back.

    "Hello," he, rasped.

Even the hoarseness couldn't hide the warmth of his voice. You thought his eyes and his voice must be made of the very same stuff. You were suddenly a different kind of nervous. You didn't even register your own initiative to speak as the question came tumbling out.

    "Do you want to live?"

Your soulmate blinked in surprise.

    "What?"

You took a breath and repeated yourself, this time with intention.

    "Do you want to live?" You asked again. "I know there are plenty of people who want you too, but I want to know what you want."

He regarded you in intent silence for a long moment.

    "Yes," he said finally, his cadence thoughtful and deliberate, "Yes, I want to live. I wasn't sure I did, but I do. I do now."

You exhaled a little breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. 

    "Okay, good," you nodded, looking away from his intent gaze as you fought, again, the surging urge to reach for him.

His lips quirked into a little smirk at your reaction.

    "I was going to ask you a question too, but after introductions," those eyes caught yours again, teasingly, and the little smile deepened just a bit, pressing a dimple into his sunken cheek.

The misery he was living in and he was teasing you? You felt something flutter a little in your chest which you willed yourself to ignore.

    "I'm sorry," you bit back a smile, glancing away a bit bashfully, "I just needed to know that you had agency over what was happening here, that it was what you wanted. If no one else was going to give you that choice...well, I was."

He regarded you silently again before addressing you.

    "It's good to meet you, Y/n-ssi. I'm Kim Namjoon."

You couldn't suppress a smirk at his stubbornness, and at the fact that he already knew your name, like you knew his.

    "It's good to meet you, too, Namjoon-ssi," you replied softly.

He suddenly leaned back in the bed, wincing, his chest heaving a bit. You looked over at the heart monitor that beeped beside him to see that his pulse was rising.

    "Should I call in the doctor?" You asked in concern.

He shook his head weakly. 

    "Not yet," he pressed out, with effort. "I...need...to know..."

You stepped closer to hear him.

    "Know what?" He closed his eyes , bringing a hand over his chest as the beeping slowed.

    "You...could...die...trying to..." he broke into a bought of coughs that was obviously painful. Once he had caught his breath, he rasped, "Are you sure, Y/n-ssi?"

    "Yes," you answered without hesitation. "Yes, I'm sure. This is my choice. I'm sure."

He opened his eyes. You held each other in a silent gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't. He merely nodded and asked,

    "You ready, then?"

You met his questioning gaze with a wry smile and what you hoped were steady eyes as you answered.

    "Ready as I'll ever be."

    After the staff had returned to the room, the tall man in plainclothes introduced himself as Sejin, Namjoon's manager. He gave you a deep bow, which you returned, thanking you in practiced English for agreeing to bond with the idol - something that made you uncomfortable all the way down to your bones, and which you tried to dismiss without being impolite. The doctor spoke to Namjoon at some length, gesticulating to you several times. Sejin nodded along as the nurse typed notes onto her tablet.

You felt a bit frustrated, being on the outside of what so immediately concerned you. You were on the verge of asking for Matt to be brought in when Namjoon turned to you. 

    "The doctor says that while he understands first touch is an intimate experience, that he and two nurses will need to be present to monitor my vitals. My heart is on the weaker side these days."

He looked almost contrite as he said it and your chest squeezed. You nodded understandingly. He might be your soulmate, but you knew this wasn't a meet-cute. This was clinical. What was about to happen between you was a treatment. The doctor continued, and a nurse came around the bed to where you stood and waited expectantly as Namjoon turned to you, this time with an unmistakably apologetic look on his drawn features.

    "Dr. Na says that if first contact goes smoothly, we'll need to begin treatments aggressively, which means as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. I guess they want us both in just undergarments."

Ah, hence the hospital gown.

You felt heat creep up your neck. Under any other circumstances you would have been upset at the lack of privacy of it all, but these weren't like any circumstances you had ever been prepared to anticipate. You were going to have to figure the boundaries out as you went.

The nurse beside you rolled up a chair for you to sit in beside the bed, facing Namjoon. She untied and tugged the top of your hospital gown down to place a heart monitor on your chest, your soulmate respectfully averting his gaze.

When all the necessary preparations had been made, you found yourself sitting in a swivel chair cranked up to reach the height of the hospital bed, socked feet not touching the ground. You were facing Namjoon, who kept sitting forward, much to the chagrin of the nurses who kept gently but impatiently guiding him back against the pillows. You felt a sick feeling creep into the pit of your stomach as you glanced at the second nurse wheel in a defibrillator. How bad could this possibly be? Would it hurt? You steeled yourself as Namjoon sat forward again, turning up the palm of his large right hand which rested on the covers beside you.

    "It's time," he murmured softly, eyes on you as you gave one more glance to the doctor, who nodded, and giving in to an urge you had kept at bay since you entered the room you slipped your hand into his.

    A jolt shot through your body like an intense electric pulse. It hurt, like relentless aftershocks of overstimulation to sensitive flesh...and yet if felt good. So good. You had instinctively pulled to yank your hand away from the pure surprise of it, but you had tugged yourself back to no avail. You opened your eyes (you hadn't remembered closing them) to see Namjoon, head thrown back against the pillows, lips parted and eyes screwed shut as he clutched your hand in a vice grip. You glanced at the heart monitor spitting out beeps consistent with well over a hundred beats per minute. Was that yours or his? But you couldn't very well hold a coherent thought in your mind as warmth began to flood your body, followed by a tingling sensation that seemed to fizzle up from the base of your spine and trickle down your limbs.

Raising suddenly heavy eyes, you realized that you were swaying a bit on your feet. When did you stand? And you were much, much closer to Namjoon - your hand was curling around the base of his bicep, your elbow in his palm, as you pressed every possible square centimeter of your bare arm to his. His eyes were open now and he was looking at you as his chest rose and fell. You returned his gaze, unfocused, drunk on the sensations spreading through your being.

You blinked as you heard the doctor speak, but neither of you tore your eyes away, and as if in a trace, as the nurses helped you out of your clothes, and you crawled into the bed and slotted yourself against his side, stretching out your right arm to wrap around his torso. Every aspect of the feeling grew impossibly stronger, the pleasure factor so high that it felt somehow wrong to be experiencing this with a total stranger in a hospital room surrounded by others. You felt Namjoon let out a shuddering breath. His arms had snaked around you.

The last thing you remembered before falling into a delirium was the nurse pulling the covers over your bodies.

    When you awoke, or rather, came to, you felt wrong. You rubbed hazy eyes to find yourself on a little cot. Before you could even wonder where you were or how you got there, the events of the previous day came flooding back.

Holy shit, you thought, you were in Korea. You had met your soulmate - and bonded with him. 

When had you even fallen asleep? The last thing you remembered was climbing into Namjoon's bed. Your heartbeat quickened. First touch had been...something else. An image of your soulmate gripping your hand with his head thrown back flashed through your mind.

No, don't, you thought, and pushed yourself to sit up.

In your attempt to move, you quickly realized that the wrongness you felt was that you were incredibly weak. It was a strange sort of weakness, however, one that left you feeling exhausted with every tiny move but wasn't accompanied by any sort of discomfort. In fact, you felt like you were floating on a cloud, if only one you couldn't find the strength to roll off. 

You were back in your hospital gown. There was a small table to your left with a lamp, a little vase of flowers, and white telephone. To your left was a machine much like the one you had seen beside Namjoon's bed beeping away, a little green line spiking and dropping across the monitor. A long curtain stretched across the space in front of you. You needed to pee.

As you moved to get off the cot, a sting of pain shot through your right arm at the inner joint and you realized that you had missed the IV drip beside the heart monitor. Clamping the IV stand you rose precariously on wobbly legs. You shuffled wearily forward, pulling the curtain back to reveal the other half of the room...and your soulmate.

He was sitting in bed, over the covers, in a heather grey tee and navy blue sweats, bare feet crossed at the ankles. He was still wearing the beanie, and his head was dipped down, immersed in the book he was holding open in his lap. The mid-morning sun spilled through the open window, bathing the suite in a pale yellow that blanketed generic seating furniture and a small bookshelf topped with a bonsai tree and painted clay figurine beside the bed, but left the abstract art piece on the opposite wall in relative shadow.

You were about to retreat back behind the curtain when a wheel of your portable IV stand betrayed you with a squeak. You pulled the curtain hurriedly shut, but too late.

    "Hello?" You heard him call softly.

His voice sounded better, you thought. Not nearly as raspy. You must look like shit, you also thought. Oh well, you needed to get past him to look decent anyway. And to pee. And he was going to see you probably every day for the rest of your life, so, bashfulness regarding your morning mug was definitely a waste of emotional energy. You heaved a sigh, and slowly pulled back the curtain, peeking through as you advanced a step.

    "I didn't want to disturb you," you fibbed, clutching the IV stand.

    "You're not disturbing me," he responded, shutting his book.

He was looking at you with a soft expression, reserved, but still warm. He looked a lot better than yesterday, too; it was unmistakable. His skin had lost a great deal of its previously ashy quality and the bruises on his arms had nearly vanished. His lips were no longer chapped, and, you noted, were full and naturally deep in color. His face looked less wane, though still thin, his shirt still hanging loosely over his chest and broad, sloping shoulders.

    "You look a little better," you urged, hoping to justify your prolonged stare.

He smiled. You were quickly reminded like a sock to the gut how pretty his smile was. 

    "I feel better," he concurred, "Thanks to you."

You looked down at your feet awkwardly. You had never been good at receiving praise or gratitude.

    "Oh...I'm glad," you mumbled. 

    "How do you feel?" he asked.

You raised your gaze back up to meet his, a wry smile tugging at your lips. 

    "Probably about as good as I look," you rejoined.

He pulled his smile into a tight line, eyes creasing. You thought maybe that was what he looked like when he was trying not to laugh. Suddenly you felt your bladder demand priority of attention.

    "Well, I'm gonna...get ready. For the day," you motioned, quickly realizing you had nothing to change into, and slipped back into the little room behind the curtain.

Scanning the space, you noted your suitcase and bag against the wall. You filled your bag with the essentials and a change before popping back out into the other half of the room on your way to the bathroom. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that Namjoon glanced at you before looking down at his book again, and you ignored the tight feeling in your chest one more time.

    Your mom had always said that a hot shower could make a person reborn, and by golly you figured she was right. You felt life seeping back into your limbs slowly but surely as the warm water poured over your body. As always, hot water and steam against white tile oiled cogs of your mind.

Clearly, the bond had served Namjoon well. You were anxious to know what a medical assessment would report. Your own exhaustion confused you, however. Wasn't the bond supposed to nourish you, rejuvenate you? When would you stop needing food? How often would you need to practice skinship now that you were bonded? And what would that look like? A thousand questions filled your mind as you massaged your scalp. You made a mental note to write a list of questions for the doctor.

    Once you had finished your morning routine, you felt infinitely more prepared to face the day. You changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. As you shuffled back toward your room, you noticed Namjoon bent over the bonsai, tiny scissors in hand. A nurse was typing on a tablet on the other side of the bed.

    "Um, Namjoon," you asked, as you paused.

He startled a bit as he looked up at you, dropping the little scissors and cursing under his breath. The nurse peeked over and when she had seemingly assessed that no damage had been done, she smirked.

    "At least no bonsai limbs were lost this time," she murmured.

Namjoon slipped the scissors into a little leather pouch.

    "Hilarious," he deadpanned, then turned his attention back to you, "Sorry, did you ask me something?"

    "Actually," you blinked in surprise, "I was going to ask you to ask the nurse, but I guess I can ask her myself this time."

The nurse smiled at you. 

    "Ganhosanim, this is Y/n-ssi," Namjoon said, addressing the woman. She gave you a bow which you returned.

    "Annyeonghaseyo," she greeted you, "I'm Nurse Cha and I'll be your attending on most days. Please feel free to speak to me in English," she smiled.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. While you had been studying Korean furiously ever since your decision had been made, having medical personnel you could communicate with at this stage without having to rely on Namjoon to translate for you was a welcome relief. 

    "If you have a minute, I have some questions? Or, I will, once I write them down. Could I just put my stuff away and come right back?" You asked eagerly. She nodded, still typing away on the tablet. You dropped your bag beside your suitcase, which you tossed on the bed and unzipped to extract a pen and a notebook with three little bees embossed into the cover. You donned your slippers and crossed back over to Namjoon's side. He was sitting on the bed again, and nurse Yun was examining one of his arms. You plopped down in an armchair beside the bookshelf. 

    "Nice bonsai," you remarked, trailing your eyes over the intricate geometric patterns of its shallow stone pot.

    "Nice journal," he replied. "Moleskin?"

You nodded, holding it up to show him the front.

    "It has bees," you said with solemnity, as if the whimsy of the endearing was something to be taken quite seriously, and Namjoon hummed in grave assent. Nurse Cha glanced between you, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

    "You said you had some questions, Y/n-ssi?" She offered.

    "Yes," you began, scribbling a few down in the pages in your lap before beginning. "Firstly wha- Oh! What happened to me yesterday? Did I pass out?" You interrupted yourself to ask.

    "Yes," she replied. "While the bonding was successful, and the skinship was highly rejuvenating for Namjoon, it appears that you were giving more than you were getting from a physiological standpoint, and while the effect was still probably similar to you on a cellular level, you were disproportionate in your transfer of energy. We've put you on an IV drip for now to ensure you're getting the replenishment your body needs regardless of food intake."

You jotted down a few lines of notes.

    "Okay, makes sense. Now, moving on to the food thing - we're still eating, right?"

Nurse Cha began typing on her tablet as she responded.

    "Yes. However, there is great boidiversity as to when and what people start rejecting as far as food goes. The average point of solid food rejection begins around two weeks after bonding. Generally, bonded individuals are still able to consume water and distilled alcohols, though they become unable to experience taste."

    "Does alcohol have the same...effect?" Namjoon spoke up from the bed.

    "An intensified one, actually," she responded, "Being a bonded mate means rediscovering your tolerance, and caution is of course advised. We've actually taken blood panels to alert us of any food sensitivities you may have. These should be immediately eliminated from your diet, as the rejection symptoms can be more severe in cases of late-stage ingestion with these items. The doctor will be in later to review those results with you."

    "Okay. And how often will we need to practice skinship, and are we going to need to initiate it ourselves or are we going to be on a schedule?"

    "I was wondering about that too," Namjoon said, adjusting his beanie.

    "The doctor will go over that with you as soon as he arrives in a little while as well. I know I'm scheduled to update your charts every six hours, so I'm sure there will be some guidance involved at first."

You quickly glanced up at Namjoon and then down at your lap. A warmth spread through your chest as you tried to keep your eyes on your notes and off of his bare arms. You were having those stupid urges to latch onto him again. Your hand twitched around your pen. You wondered what his thoughts were on your next session.

Just then, Dr. Na entered the room. He greeted both of you warmly and Nurse Cha took over relaying the consultation in English.

The oncologist was very optimistic about the effect of the soulmate bond on Namjoon, saying that his vitals had stabilized, his pain levels were lower than they'd been in weeks and the inflammation in his body had decreased significantly. He stressed that, while these were good signs, they were not a guarantee that the skinship was treating the cancer, and that they would have to take scans after a time to see if the tumors had were in fact shrinking.

He reviewed your blood panel results, letting you know that from that point forward you were to avoid consuming nightshades while communicating to Namjoon that he hadn't tested positive for any food sensitivities. He showed you a chart dictating when and how long you should practice skinship each day, beginning with a session immediately following the consultation. He cautioned you to alert medical staff if during a session you began to feel overly-drain, as they did not want you coming to the point of fainting again. You were removed from your IV drip.

    After the doctor had taken his leave, Nurse Cha fixed you with additional monitors, instructed you both to strip down to your maximum level of comfortability for the session, and departed. Once you were down to bra and panties, you climbed up into the huge hospital bed to join Namjoon, who once again kept his gaze trained anywhere but your side of the bed as you slipped under the covers and pressed yourself into his side.

Suddenly it was as if you had slipped into a warm bath under the influence of champagne. You closed your eyes and sank into the incredible sensation of his touch. His skin was like a warm cup of tea on the coldest day of the year. Like the first refreshing moments of a plunge into cool water at the height of summer. It was everything wonderful all at once, and you were so caught up in the sensation that you were barely cognizant of a tiny moan escaping your lips. 

Horrified, you bit down on your bottom lip and prayed to all that was sacred that Namjoon hadn't noticed. His immediate soft laughter, however, betrayed him, and you felt your face burning with embarrassment - beads of sweat pricking on your forehead as you covered your face with a different kind of groan.

    "Sorry," you murmured, ruefully.

    "Nah, I get it," Namjoon chuckled, his chest rumbling under your cheek. "If it feels as good for you as it does for me, then that's the correct response."

You allowed yourself to giggle a bit in turn.

    "I'm glad it's already helping," you remarked, and you felt him turn his head as if he was looking down at you.

He was silent for a beat before addressing you again.

    "Everything happened so quickly yesterday, I didn't even get a chance to thank you."

    "For what?" you countered, even though you knew exactly where he was headed with this.

    "For leaving your life behind and coming to Korea to give a stranger a chance at his. I'm going to spend the rest of my time making it up to you."

You felt your chest tighten. You pushed yourself up on one arm and turned to face him. The sheet fell down your upper body as you moved, but you were too intent on looking him in the face to notice. 

    "Namjoon, you're not a charity case. I didn't do this so that you would owe me something. This is a choice I made. All mine. So relieve yourself of any debt you may feel you owe me. We're bound by circumstance, but you're a free man in every sense of the word. I won't be a burden you bear any more than you wish to be one to me."

If you had been looking through his eyes, you would have seen yourself, pressed up out of the sheets with all the modesty of a sea nymph, your features glowing with the effects of the bond and fixed with a splendid kind of resoluteness and soft defiance. But, you saw it from your own, taking in the quiet shock on Namjoon's features that slowly morphed into something you couldn't place. Not yet. You didn't know him well enough.

After regarding you blinkingly, he looked at you with earnest eyes and gave a nod.

    "I accept those terms," he assented, and you believed him.

You thought maybe you'd believe anything he said, and, suddenly aware of the bareness of your torso under the intentness of his gaze, you slipped back down against his side.

    "I noticed you dropped the honorifics," he murmured teasingly.

You glanced back up at him.

    "Oh...sorry, I'm not used to it. I can -"

    "It's alright," he interjected, "I think we should be familiar. It will make things easier, right? Only if you want, though," he quickly added.

    "Yeah, no, I agree," you answered, shifting to press your leg more fully against his, and smiling to yourself as you keyed up your next remark.

"And I'm only your noona by a little bit anyway, so no need to call me that..."

This time a loud laugh burst out of him that shook your head enough for you to roll away and shoot him a look as he brushed a hand over his eyes in amusement. You smiled as you took in his dimpled cheeks and crescent eyes, and nearly didn't notice the voice speaking in bemused and startled Korean at the mouth of the hall. It was Namjoon who looked up first.

    "Yah!" He called in indignation and warning as you followed his gaze to catch but a glimpse of two young men, badly repressing snickers as they bolted back down the hall to the entry of the suite. 

Namjoon sighed sharply and turned to you with and apologetic expression.

    "I'm so sorry, those idiots are my friends. They're used to coming and going as they please to visit me - which, obviously now they can't just barge in unannounced."

He slipped out of bed, and you glanced away as he pulled on sweats and a shirt.

"I'll tell them to come back at a better time."

    "No, no!" you protested, "Just let me get decent. I want to meet them."

Namjoon paused as he kicked on his slippers. 

    "You sure?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

    "Yeah, yeah. I know we're still on skinship time, but, maybe we can just...hold hands? I mean, as long as you're okay with it..."

Namjoon's mouth slipped into a wry grin as he glanced down to the other end of the suite. 

    "Yeah, I'm fine with it. I apologize in advance if they can't be."

You gave a confused shrug as Namjoon picked up his phone and crossed into the vestibule area to give you the privacy to change. You pulled your leggings and sweatshirt back on and perched yourself cross-legged on the hospital bed, listening with amused anticipation as Namjoon spoke in exasperated Korean on the other side of the wall. You heard the door and three sets of footsteps accompanied by giggles and shushing, and then your soulmate emerged, all but herding the two young men preceding him into the room.

You immediately recognized the strapping, dark-haired one with the leporine smile as Jungkook, the young man who had accompanied Hybe's representation to visit you on Namjoon's behalf. The other young man you also recognized from internet images as one of the members, though you couldn't recall his name. He was shorter than Jungkook, though not by as much as he should have been due to the significance of his heeled boots. What he lacked in height he made up for in athletic build and voluptuously beautiful facial features. He shook his honey blonde hair out of his eyes, earrings tinkling as he regarded you with a coy smile.

    "Ijjogeun Y/n-ieo. Y/n, this is Jungkook and Jimin," Namjoon said, gesturing to each of the members as they made polite bows. 

    "Annyeonghaseyo," you said, returning their bows deeply, "Mannaseo bangapseumnida - dasi mannaseo bangabseubnida, Jungkook-ssi."

Jungkook flashed a blinding smile, round eyes wide and sparkling.

    "It's good to see you again too, noona," he answered in English. Namjoon's brow creased as he glanced between you and the young man you had been originally introduced to as the maknae of BTS.

    "You've met?" he asked. You nodded.

    "Jungkook was one of the people who came to meet me in the US when your company made the proposition," you explained. "He spoke very, very highly of you. His reference of your character was one of the major contributing factors toward my decision to come."

You smiled softly at Jungkook. Namjoon nodded, brow still drawn, as he pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek, jaw clenched and jutting forward, as he clapped the youngest on the shoulder. You thought Jungkook's eyes were just a bit glassy as the two shared a look that seemed to hold a lifetime of history. Jimin regarded the two with sentimentality before returning his gaze to you, again full of enigmatic mischief. The blonde took a step toward you, then turned on his booted heal, saying something to Namjoon in Korean.

You cocked your head to the side, glancing at your soulmate.

    "He said I look a lot better already," Namjoon said, eyeing Jimin warily as the younger man continued speaking, flashing you a devilish grin. Jungkook pulled his pierced lower lip between his teeth as he glanced between Namjoon and Jimin. You looked again to Namjoon expectantly.

    Awkwardness radiated from him as he deflected saying Jimin was just making fun, and he shot the younger man a look that unmistakably communicated his lack of amusement. Namjoon made another remark in Korean, and joined you back on the bed, hesitating only a moment before he took your hand in his.

You saw his shoulders sag in relief as he breathed a sigh through his nose at the contact. You had to restrain your own reaction, glancing down shyly as to avoid the two pairs of eyes trained in rapt curiosity on you from the end of the bed. Namjoon continued to speak with them, translating between you when your limited Korean wasn't sufficient, and gradually your awkwardness eased in the comfortable presence that emanated between your soulmate and his members.

As the visitors were about to take their leave, Jimin trained you with a newly serious look, leaning against the edge of the bed, and glancing at Namjoon as he spoke in what you could decipher was gratitude. 

    "He says they're all so grateful to you and glad to have you with us," Namjoon translated. You noticed his thumb slide over the back of your hand as he said it. So did Jimin, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he eyed where your digits were intertwined.

    "Ah," you said awkwardly, "No thanks necessary, we're in this together, right?"

You pulled your hand from Namjoon's and in an attempt to raise your arm and give him a nonchalant pat on the back, you backhanded him directly in the face. 

Namjoon's hand flew up to his cheek and the two younger members erupted in laughter. You apologized profusely, trying to make sure Namjoon could hear you over Jungkook's wheezing and Jimin's shrieks of what you were pretty sure was "oh shit, there are two of them". When Namjoon had assured you that he was perfectly fine and the other two had composed themselves, you said your goodbyes. As soon as they were out the door, Namjoon was apologizing.

    "It's fine," you smirked with a shrug, "That's friends for you. I would have been concerned if they hadn't poked a little fun. I like them. I want to meet the rest of them."

Namjoon slipped back up onto the bed and intertwined his hand with yours as he glanced down, a pensive look on his face.

    "There's a lot of people you need to meet," he said quietly, thoughtfully.

You studied him as he continued to look down at your joined hands.

"In fact," he continued, "There was someone I was hoping you could meet tomorrow. Someone we should sit down...and talk with."

You nodded, regarding him intently.

"Her name is Kim Hyung-seo," he continued, "She's my fiancée."

AN: Yeah, sorry to drop that at the end and peace out. 😁✌

Tag list: @butterymin @little-dark-empress @aretha170 @kamilamb @jlee97 @thephotoend @callmenoona25

#kim namjoon #knj #bts #kim namjoon fanart #knj fic #namjoon fic #bts fics #namjoon soulmate #soulmate au #bts soulmate au #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts reader insert #reader insert #eventual relationship #eventual smut #eventual romance #strangers to lovers #idol au #slow burn

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 1

Tom Hiddleston x ofc (Mia Sull) Chapter 2 Masterlist Series Rating: M Chapter Warnings: Mentions of sexual health items, alcohol use, Nudity Series warnings: Sexual content, alcohol use

RPF Note- This is a fictional version of Tom Hiddleston. I have and will continue to play with the timeline of his career. All characters are fictional. Out of respect for the actual Tom, I have fictionalized his family members beyond the most basic details as well as as past romantic entanglements. Please do NOT take this romantic work of fiction as disapproval of his current relationship. He appears happy, has a family and I am happy for him. I have a hundred and one fictional versions of him in my head, I don't need the real life man single.

Summary: Las Vegas drew in people like him. Heart broken, lonely and rejected while his ex married someone else. Here he could be anyone though, flying under the radar of his skyrocketing fame.

Las Vegas was home to people like her. Lonely, broke and with the weight of the world on her shoulders. There was never enough of anything except stress. She was one of the countless faces that lived in the shadow of the glittering lights.

Two worlds collide in a drunken night neither can remember. What do you do when what happens in Vegas is a legally binding marriage contract between two strangers?

Chapter One

Shrill ringing cut through the silence. Slitting open her eyes, Mia regretted it instantly. The bright sunlight of the day stabbed her eyes without care for the pain it caused. Blindly, she groped toward the cursed sound of her phone ringing. Pawing at it, she dismissed the alarm or call or alert- what exactly she didn’t know and didn’t care at that moment. 

“Fucking hell…” It was hard to talk. Her throat felt like someone had stuffed it full of cotton balls. Her head pounded and it felt like she was floating. 

“Agreed…” she could have sworn a voice mumbled behind her. She had had far too much to drink the night before and couldn’t trust her senses.

“Where are you?” The voice was a distant squawk. It turned out that it was a call and, rather than dismissing it she had answered it. 

“Fuck.” she said again, not registering much but dragging the phone to her ear. “What?”

“Breakfast. You’re missing from it. Where are you?” It was her sister Ashley on the other end of the call. 

Breakfast… shit. Breakfast. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Where are you?” Ashley’s voice was so loud. Was the phone on speaker or was the volume punishing her for the night before?

“Hotel room?” Mia said.

“Mandalay Bay.” The voice behind her offered slightly stronger. The bed shifted under the weight of another occupant moving. The voice earlier hadn’t been a figment of her imagination after all.

“Who was that?” Ashley asked.

“I don’t honestly know.” She admitted, not caring if she hurt the occupant’s feelings but trying to keep her voice down. 

If there wasn’t a thousand angry hornets surfing on shifting sand in her skull, it may have occurred to her that admitting that while in a hotel alone- she assumed they were alone at least- with a strange man was likely not the greatest choice. 

“Tom.” The mystery man supplied as if that actually gave her any information. Did he expect her to remember him? Did he remember her?

“He says his name is Tom.” Did she even know a Tom? She had no memory of a Tom. 

“I heard.” Ashley was not pleased. She was whatever existed below highly displeased was. “Who the hell is-”

“Give me ten to fifteen, kay?” Mia didn’t give her a chance to answer before disconnecting the call. 

“What the hell happened?” It took all the strength in her body to roll from her stomach to her back. Her limbs felt like they had been replaced with sacks of potatoes. How much did I drink?

The thought was cut off when she saw him. Light brown hair was lit up gold in the offensively bright Las Vegas morning sun, defining the curl to the short stands. He had a sharp jaw peppered with morning stubble and defined cheekbones. Most importantly, he was without a shirt. Hopefully that was all the clothes missing from him. 

He held his hand up over his chest, suspended and looking at it incredulously. A Simple gold ring reflected off his left hand. 

Fuck. Her leg brushed against his as she shifted to face him. She was very much naked and anything resembling pant legs did not cover his leg. Fuckity fuck fuck. She fucked a married man. When the fuck did she sink so low?

“I think we got married?” Tom’s voice had fewer cotton balls and gravel now as he shifted again in the bed. 

“Oh thank god, you’re not married.” The words slipped out in a breath before the real meaning of his words sank in and she bolted upright. “Wait, what? Fuck.” She yanked the too thin blankets up to her naked chest as soon as the overly cold hotel room air made contact with her bare breasts. In the process, she stole blankets from the mystery Tom. His long toned thigh and hip was reveled and yep- he was naked too.

“I believe we’re married.” The words came slowly, calmly as he watched her. Absently, he tugged the blanket to cover his hip and maintain his cover, though he seemed far less concerned with potential exposure than she was. Who could blame him? His chest and abdomen were toned. No wonder she fell into bed with him. 

But marry him? She wouldn’t. She didn’t know him. And they couldn’t, anyway. “There’s no way.”

“Shall we find out?” Muscles rippled and contracted as he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. His back was as nice to look at as the rest of him. Quickly, she chastised herself for thinking that way. 

This was insanity. 

Look away, she reminded herself, as he leaned down and slipped on a pair of boxers. Before she could stop herself, she noticed how they hugged the curve of his ass. It was possible he had a nicer ass than her. 

Tom rummaged around as she tried to make a gown out of the blanket before handing her a white button-down shirt. It was too large for her and clearly was his. “Your dress is ripped down the zipper.” 

“Turn around.” 

He complied, but a chuckle slipped from him as he did so. “It’s a bit late for that, eh?” 

“We don’t know that.” It was a lie, she knew it was. Her hips ached in a way that made it impossible to lie to herself, but she sure as hell would lie to him.

“The condom in the trash over here says we did,” or maybe lying to him wasn’t an option. “It’s okay if you don’t remember- I only remember bits. We shouldn’t have.” 

“But we did.” It killed her to admit that. “Look, if we were so drunk we couldn’t remember having sex, they wouldn’t have given us a marriage license.”

“You think?” It didn’t sound like he was listening to her as he rummaged through some papers that were scattered on the floor. 

“I know, Tom- that’s your name, right? Look, these sorts of things happen in movies and books. Sure, you can walk into the clerk’s office and get a marriage license damn near 24/7 and walk out with a license within 30 minutes, but they’re trained to look for people too damn drunk to make that decision.”

“And what if I just found the paperwork?” When she faced him, he was looking at her intently and holding a stack of papers in his hand. 

“No.” He pulled the papers from her as she reached for them, eyebrow raised. 

“You don’t know me?” His whole demeanor changed with the question, body becoming rigid.

What the fuck sort of question was that? “Should I?”

“It doesn’t’ matter.” Sure, he was hot, but what the fuck was with that ‘do you know who I am?’ shit? But he seemed to relax with that answer. He didn’t look like a mafia throwback at least. 

When she reached for the papers again, he let her take them. She didn’t exactly have the right clothes on to try and climb the man to steal them if he had decided to be childish. The official papers were all there. Everything looked legit and the yellow carbon copies were present with the official white sheets missing. 

“Fuck me.” 

“I would make a joke, but I suspect now isn’t the time.” Tom cracked a slight smile, but she only returned a glare. 

“Not the time.” 

“So, are we married?” 

“I think so.” She wanted to puke. It wasn’t fair. She was so hung over and yet the adrenalin was letting her think through the shifting sands in her brain. There wasn’t anything she wanted to do more than puke in the moment, yet her mouth was dryer than the desert. 

“Maria, correct?” Tom spoke softer. “The paperwork said your name is Maria?”

“Mia,” She corrected absently. She was only Maria when someone was mad at her. “Hiddleston? That’s my new name? What the fuck kind of name is that?” Realizing how harsh her words were, she tacked on a quick, “Sorry.” 

“I can’t say none taken, but we’re under stress, so I’ll let it pass.” 

Fiddling with the ring on her finger, she stood in silence for a moment before sitting in a heap on the bed. It wasn’t her intention to insult his name, but she hadn’t expected to have woken up to a husband.

“Here.” A glass of water waved through the tears she hadn’t realized were gathering in her eyes. “You’re probably dehydrated. I know my head is pounding,  yours surely is too.” 

“Thank you.” She wasn’t aware of how thirsty she was until she took the first gulp of water to wash down the Advil he also handed to her.

“Slow down,” He cautioned, “or you’ll make yourself sick. 

Looking down at the last bit of water in the glass, she was silent as her stomach rolled. They had to do something. This shouldn’t have been able to happen. She couldn’t be married to a stranger. 

“We need to file for an annulment.” the words came out softly and silence hung in the air after. “The ring is pretty- hopefully it can be refunded. Do you think you picked it or me?” She was talking to fill the void in the room. 

“I did,” He sounded… something. Down. Perhaps the reality of the situation was weighing on him as well. “You wouldn’t have any part of picking it.” 

“You remember?” 

“Bits and pieces are coming back.” 

“You picked a nice one.” The ring fit her well, sparkling with promises fit for a princess she would never get to be. “Hopefully you can get a refund.” 

Silence again. There were no analog clocks in hotels anymore, but she could somehow still hear the ticking of a clock marking off the seconds in her soul.

“I can have Ashley, my sister, bring me some clothes and we can go get the paperwork filed.” The words were flowing out quickly, trying to fill the room. “We can get this taken care of and be done with it. You won’t have to see me again. I won’t make it dif-”

“What if we don’t?” Long nimble fingers that made her remember warmth twisted his simple band around his finger. 

“What?” Surely she didn’t hear him right.

“I was raised to believe things happened for a reason. The amount of things that should have stood in the way to prevent this- what if it happened for a reason?” He couldn’t be serious.

“So what, we just stay married?” 

“Well,” She cut him off. 

“We don’t even know eachother!” 

This was insanity. He was insane. Why would a man like him want to be married to some random woman he didn’t know? He looked like a goddamn god, surely women fall at his feet. She wasn’t special. Any woman could have fallen into his bed. It just happened to be her this time. 

“Hear me out,” He said. It was hard not to look at him. What woman wouldn’t want a tall, handsome man pleading with her while wearing nothing but his well fitted boxers? “Let’s take some time. Let’s get to know eachother. We don’t have to rush-”

“You’re actually insane.” In her exasperation, she flopped back on the bed. The hem of the shirt- his shirt- rode up her thighs, and she quickly sat back up and yanked the fabric down. “If we ‘take our time’, the window for annulment will close. Then-”

“Then we get a divorce.” He said it as if it was that simple. 

“Divorce means lawyers and court fees. I don’t exactly have shit to split but-” 

“I’m not concerned about my assets.” 

“How long do you want? A few days?” She ran her hands through her waves in frustration, but quickly yanked them down again as she felt the hem of the shirt creeping higher again. “I need some damn pants.”

“What about a year?” 

~~~~~~

Alcohol was burning in his throat even as he called for another. Ice clanked against the cold glass. Lights and sounds blinked and clanged around him and yet, thanks to the insulation, it sounded distant. Condensation dampened his fingertips.

It was childish; he knew that. He was far too grown to be drowning his sorrows in a bar. It was risky too- with the attention and influx of fans, he could only dream of it wouldn’t be unexpected for someone to recognize him. 

“Excuse me?” A soft voice called behind his shoulder. This was it, he was found out. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m on per-” She slipped into the empty seat next to him. The bar was packed, and it had only recently been vacated. Though he looked at her, she had her eyes on the bartender.

“Washington apple?” She ordered.

Brown waves cascaded down her back. Were they as soft as they looked? The scent of flowers clung to the surrounding air. 

“Mia!” The bartender knew her. “Shouldn’t you have gone home hours ago?” 

“No point. I wouldn’t sleep anyway.” The glass slid into her hand with practiced coordination that gave away a history between her and the bartender.

“Why’s that?” He shouldn’t be listening in on their conversation, but the whiskey buzzed in his head, making it hard not to.

“AC is down. No one would get any sleep, anyway.” 

Tom downed his whiskey and ordered another. His ex may be getting married, but why should he spend that time alone?

“I couldn’t imagine trying to sleep here with no air conditioning.” 

~~~~~~~~~<3 Tag List:

@winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom (Strikeout = couldn't tag)

#Tom hiddleston x oc #Tom hiddleston x ofc #Tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom hiddleston x original character #Tom hiddleston RPF

[valleydean]

Chapter 2 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist | tip

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

“Come in here with me,” Castiel said, nodding down at the water.

Dean shot him an incredulous look. “Really? You’re the one who’s always saying it’s too small for both of us.”

“It is,” Castiel maintained. “But that’s not the point.”

Dean bit down on a smirk, like he thought he’d won the argument. He stood up and undressed. Castiel watched him idly, admiring the way Dean’s chest tightened when he shrugged off his shirt and the muscular tone of his thighs when he shucked off his pants. Dean lowered himself into the water, hissing slightly at the temperature before getting used to it. He splashed some onto his neck and shoulders. Beneath the water, Castiel’s ankles knocked up against Dean’s sides. Dean’s knees emerged out of the water where they were bent up.

Castiel waited for him to settle before saying, “She’s trying to sell our parents’ land, but it’s dead. She asked me to retire early and move back with her to fix it.”

Dean blanched, and Castiel didn’t miss the fear that flashed through his eyes along with the shock. “She what?” His expression rapidly changed about a thousand subtle times before his guard started to go up. “But you said no, right?”

Castiel looked at him dryly, because how could Dean possibly think otherwise? “Of course, I did.” Dean visibly relaxed, but only marginally. “But she’s not taking no for an answer. She asked me to think about it.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

Castiel thought, perhaps, if he allowed Anna to stay with them for a few nights, she’d understand why he couldn’t leave. Why he had a life in New York. And then she’d stop asking him to move back home. He had no idea whether or not it would work. Anna had never given up so easily when her mind was set on something.

Dean puckered his lips and shook his head. “Why the hell would she think you’d do that? I mean, when was the last time you even heard from her?”

Castiel couldn’t help but defend her. “She didn’t have anywhere else to turn. She has nothing.”

“So, she’s here for money?” Dean inferred.

“She says she isn’t.” Castiel sighed. “I wish she was. It’d be simpler. But, no. She’d never ask for that. Anna is… proud. And willful. Stubborn. The fact that she’s admitting the need for help alone is a miracle.”

“Reminds me of somebody,” Dean teased dryly.

Castiel shot him a level look before deciding to ignore the comment. “The point is… She won’t ask for money. I really do think she came here for me so the two of us could find a solution.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek in frustration. “I just don’t know what that solution is yet.”

“Well, I can tell you one thing. It’s not going back to Illinois,” Dean stressed.

Castiel sat up and collected Dean’s hands firmly in his own. He looked Dean in the eyes. “Dean, I am not going anywhere. Least of all without you.”

At last, that seemed to sink in. The lines around Dean’s face evened out. Then, he rearranged himself, coming forward to lay down on top of Castiel. Exhaling, Castiel leaned against the tub and let Dean rest his cheek on his shoulder. Dean’s arms wrapped around his back. His feet stuck out of the water.

“Good. ‘Cause I’d kick your ass.”

It made Castiel smile softly. He brought his hand up out of the water to place it on the back of Dean’s head. The droplets trickled audibly back into the pool. He rubbed his other hand up and down Dean’s ribs.

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel #dean #cas #my writing #my post #heavyweight

[archiveikemen]

『 Villain's Night 』 Story Event: Chapter 2

Jude Jazza

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

(This is the place—)

My body had followed William’s command and moved according to my desires, and so I arrived at the gambling house Jude was at.

Drunk Man: Hey, kitty, you look adorable. Meow for me.

Kate: … Sorry, I’m here to look for someone.

The crowded gambling den was filled with people dressed up for Halloween.

I reluctantly put on only the cat ears Alfons had given me, and blended into the crowd.

Apparently, the place was not just a gambling house for Duel Betting, it was also a brothel. The men present were eyeing the frightened women locked in cages, as if evaluating their worth.

(... Human lives are of lower value than money here…)

While feeling disgusted by the cruel scene… I continued looking out for the man I was there to find.

(— I want to find Jude as soon as possible.)

(But… what do I want to do once I find him?)

(I highly doubt I’ll be able to convince him to return to the castle without causing trouble.)

Despite those thoughts, my body moved on its own and kept looking.

(What do I desire? Is it to find Jude?)

(I don't know what it is myself, and yet my body is following this “desire”...)

(William’s ability is truly frightening.)

Kate: Excuse me… pardon, but is there a man by the name of Jude here?

Kate: He wears a black coat, has a sinister look in his eyes, and—

I asked around while scanning the crowd, unable to find him, and just then—

???: You’re Jude Jazza’s woman?

Kate: Huh…?

…

Jude: If you accept my terms, I’ll spare your life at the very least.

Jude quietly put the guards to sleep and entered the room before crushing the jaws of two or three more guards, he then threw the overbearing and unreasonable terms at the organiser.

Organiser: … Hahaha. Hey, calm down.

Organiser: Withdraw from Duel Betting and human trafficking, then give you all my earnings… don’t you think you’re demanding too much?

Organiser: Didn't you lose only a few thousand pounds?

Organiser: Besides, your employees are the ones to blame for it.

Jude: I don't give a fuck. Accept my terms or die.

Jude’s glare was sharper than a newly sharpened blade, making the organiser gulp.

Then, a subordinate rushed into the room and whispered something into the organiser’s ear.

In an instant — his eyes took on a triumphant look.

Organiser: — Looks like you’ve got a guest.

Jude: … A guest?

Brought in by two burly men, almost dragging her on the floor… was Kate who laid unconscious.

Jude: — Ah? Ꙩ_Ꙩ

Organiser: I heard that she wandered in here to look for you. A very brave lover, isn't she?

Organiser: So, what do you say? If you take back the terms you stated earlier, I’ll return this woman to you unscathed.

Organiser: Hmm? There's something in her pocket… oops, look what we have here.

Burly Man: HAHA! Bringing this sort of thing to a place like this… she’s a surprisingly slutty woman—

Burly Man: — Huh?

For a brief moment, the man blinked in confusion as if he didn't know what was happening.

His hand, along with Kate’s unconscious body, fell to the floor with a thud.

Burly Man: Wh– AAAAHHH!?

Jude: Negotiation failed.

Jude: I’ll spare the boss monkey. We have much to talk about.

Jude: Everyone else can die.

< timeskip >

Kate: ugh…

The first thing I heard after regaining consciousness was the sounds of groaning and sobbing.

(What… what happened to me…? I’m pretty sure I heard someone call out to me, and…)

Kate: Ggh…!?

The moment I got up, the horrifying scene before my eyes made my breath catch in my throat.

The floor, walls, everything was dyed red with blood splattered on them.

The dead bodies laying around barely looked like human beings anymore, they were mere red lumps of “something” thrown around like objects—

Standing in the middle of it all, was Jude.

(Jude…?)

Jude: Don’t worry, I’ll at least keep your artery intact. You can't pay me if you die from excessive blood loss.

Jude slowly cut his blood soaked sword into the legs of the man who appeared to be the boss of the establishment.

Organiser: F- Fine… ggh, I’ll give you the money! S-Sixty… sixty percent of my earnings… ugh

Jude: WHAT!?

Organiser: AAAAAAAAAA!

Jude: You don't need ears that can’t listen well, right? Let me cut them off for you.

Jude grinned, as though he enjoyed the sound of the boss’ shrieking.

Watching the cruel scene in front of me, a feeling of fear I had long forgotten came back to me.

He was a villain who lived in a different world from mine.

(And yet… here I am, witnessing this.)

(I keep wondering if he’s bleeding from anywhere.)

I didn't know what I wanted to do after finding him.

But, now, I knew clearly what it was that I desired.

(This is like a regular occurrence for Jude.)

Even if it was due to the traits given to him by his curse, or because of a promise he made with someone I didn't know…

(For this man who lived in the darkness while putting his own life at risk, this man who was always pushing me away from that darkness… I wanted to do something for him.)

Tonight, the cursed people were even more dangerous than usual.

(And yet… all I did was cause more trouble for him.)

There was an overwhelmingly large distance between the two of us.

(— I’m so frustrated.)

I bit my lip and watched as Jude tortured the boss for the information he wanted — and he finally sheathed his sword after thrusting it into the man’s heart.

Jude: …

(... I think this is the first time I’m seeing Jude use his sword.)

The usual Jude hurt others, but he never killed them so easily.

He would always say that it was much more efficient to exploit them for labour than to kill them, because killing them would cause him too much trouble afterwards.

– Flashback Start –

Victor: That’s right. As for the cursed person, they find it harder to control themselves… something like that.

Victor: It’s a dangerous night for both the cursed person and the people around them.

– Flashback End –

The pale moonlight shone through the window.

(Right now — Jude isn’t in his normal state.)

(It’s too dangerous to approach him.)

That was what I thought, and yet I found myself moving closer towards his bloodied back.

On this Halloween night, the cursed people were going mad—

And I, too, was going mad with desire because of William’s command.

Kate: Jude.

Jude: …

Jude didn't look back.

My hand lifted itself and grasped his coat.

Kate: … Are you hurt?

Kate: —!

Before I could finish talking, my body was suddenly pulled.

With a thud, I collided with him and a shock ran through my back, making me gasp in pain.

Jude: Why did you break your promise?

Kate: J-Jude…

Jude: You know what happens when you break a promise with me, don't you?

Kate: … ggh

It was hard to breathe with his hand tightly gripping my collar.

That hand felt nothing like the one that held my shoulder and drove the strange man away on the streets of London earlier that day. It was cruel and cold.

Kate: ah… ugh…

Jude: Ahh, did you break the promise on purpose because you wanted to be punished by me?

Kate: …? …!

He snickered when I hurriedly shook my head in denial.

Jude: You probably thought I’d let you off with a couple of threats as usual, Princess.

Jude: But I don't think that’ll be enough to satisfy me tonight.

Jude: “Trick or Treat”... I’m not going to ask you that.

Jude: — Ready to be ridiculed?

Jude’s amethyst eyes glimmered under the moonlight streaming into the room through the window.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil story event #jude jazza

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 23 ~ Broken

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Word Count : 5.2k

In this chapter ~ In the midst of everything, Rick and Shane weren't able to leave the stranger behind like they had planned. It all led up to a pretty ugly discussion about how they would take care of him, fighting for whatever humanity they could hold onto. But they quickly come to realize they can't prevent the inevitable forever.

It was a silent morning, quieter than usual as we waited for Daryl to come out of the shed with the dreaded news.

Rick and Shane came back late that night still with Randall attached on a leash, claiming they couldn't just leave him in the middle of nowhere, leading to a pretty ugly disagreement. Apparently, part of it was because Randall knew of Maggie from around the small town and knew where the farm was, so they were left with a tough decision. In the end they decided to play it a bit more safely and bring him back, and Daryl offered to "have a chat" with him this morning to get the information we needed out of him.

But as we all stood there waiting, my mind was elsewhere.

Yesterday was a rollercoaster of emotions for not only me, but the Greene family. After Daryl talked to me, I did feel a little better but also couldn't hide the embarrassment I felt after what he watched me go through. Practically the five stages of grief in two minutes. But after our talk I soon fell asleep, emotionally exhausted from everything that had happened that day. Then this morning I woke up and he was already gone, so I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him about everything he did for me last night. Though I would eventually, I didn't really know where to start.

I didn't know if he fully realized how much he had truly helped me. How much he proved that he was always there for me for the good, the bad, and the ugly just by simply comforting me in a time of need. It made my heart swell, and I wanted to thank him for all of it.

The shed doors opening and closing with a slam is what brought me out of my thoughts, seeing Daryl coming out only seconds later looking pissed. He made his way over to us quickly and stood close by while informing the group about what he got out of the man.

"Boy there has a gang, thirty men, got heavy artillery and ain't lookin to make friends. They roll through here our boys are dead and our women...they're gonna wish they were." he said.

"What did you do?" Carol asked him cautiously with her arms crossed, looking at how bloody his hands were.

He shrugged, "Had a little chat." he said simply.

Once Carol had brought attention to his beat up knuckles, I couldn't help but stare as well in slight concern. I then mindlessly took his hand in mine and raised it up to my face, examining the blood and cuts he had gotten. I felt his gaze on me while I did so, yet everyone else around us seemed to pay it no mind as they stewed over Randall's words.

"No one goes near this guy. We don't have a choice, he's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat." Rick stated.

Dale's ears perked up at that, "You're just going to kill him?"

"It's settled, we'll do it today." Rick announced before stalking off in the other direction.

My eyes followed his figure, along with Dale's whom was following close behind, thinking back to Rick's sudden decision. I didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable with killing him, but I also didn't want his group to show up in the one place we felt safe. There was no limit to the possibilities on what these people could do, Daryl only proved that further when he told us everything he said. So when it comes down to it, I think killing him is our best option.

But Dale was clearly quick to argue, chasing after the man as he began to talk his ear off for no doubt a better option. But clearly there wasn't. With the way we've gone over this a thousand times already before, we had already talked it out for far longer than we should've. And I for one didn't want to go through that endless loop again. No amount of time or patience would prepare me for another similar discussion.

My eyes then connected with Daryl's momentarily and I nodded my head towards our tent and he nodded back, quickly slipping away from the group. As we made it back to the small space we shared, I wanted to grab some things to help clean the fresh gashes on his hands.

"Sit down here, I'll be right back." I said briefly.

"Yes ma'am." he said with a knowing smirk as he sat himself down on the log I pointed to.

I fixed him with a glare as I felt the familiar heat creep to my cheeks before turning around and going into the tent to get a first aid kit out of my bag. Once my fingers grazed over it, I pulled it out and made my way back outside and sat down beside him, taking his hand again to help clean everything up.

Taking some water first, I gently poured the cool liquid onto his knuckles, trying to wash them as best as I could from the dirt that lingered there. I then took some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol, warning him before I began to gently graze it back and forth. He flinched a little at first but then slowly got used to the stinging, relaxing a bit more as I continued.

It was silent between us as I focused, but I could tell he had a lot on his mind with the talk he just had with Randall. It was a lot I will admit, but I could tell he was overthinking about it far too much. So I decided to break the silence.

"Stop thinking about it. Everything will be okay." I muttered quietly, my eyes still focused on his hands.

He huffed quietly, "What you can read my mind now?" he asked playfully.

My gaze lifted then with a little smile, "No, your thoughts are just too loud, they're hard to ignore you know."

He only smiled in return, nodding to himself like I had a point. I then finally finished wrapping up his hands in white bandages a bit tightly, before dropping them back into his lap, prepared to take the silence as an opportunity. It started off almost awkward as I didn't know quite how to put it, but I felt that I had to bring it up sometime.

"I uh...never got a chance to say thank you by the way, for yesterday. All the shit that went down. So, thank you. You have no idea how much that meant to me." I said honestly.

He scoffed and shook his head, "Ya don't gotta thank me darlin, I'll always be here when ya need me."

My heart jumped the smallest bit once I heard the nickname he had never used before, fall effortlessly off his tongue. But he had a much different reaction than I, pressing his lips together tightly and closing his eyes as if he regretted saying it at all. And just like that his thoughts were running wild once again, stuttering as he tried to apologize and find the right words for the slip up.

"Shit...sorry, it just- kinda...slipped out."

I gently grabbed his hand again, getting him to actually look me in the eye, "It's okay," I assured, "I think it's sweet."

He was quiet for a moment as he stared a me, before muttering, "Ya don't hate it?"

"I love it." I responded.

He smiled a bit shyly, before cupping my cheek and bringing me towards him to place his lips on mine. It was a soft and loving kiss that I never wanted to pull away from. Looking at Daryl you would assume he would be rougher with this kind of thing, but he truly was the gentlest person I had ever met. He treated every touch like he was nervous he would completely break me somehow, like I was glass.

But that alone only made me crave it more.

I leaned in further to him, deepening the kiss as his hand slowly moved down my back to inch me impossibly closer. But then my mind wandered a bit, completely forgetting about the vest I had gotten him, but never had a chance to show him. So I reluctantly pulled back before my head could get any further in the clouds, sighing almost at the loss of contact.

"What's wrong?" he asked, tucking some hair behind my ear.

I shook my head, "Nothing. I just completely forgot I have something for you."

He raised a single eyebrow at me, "What is it?" he asked, almost dreading the thing I could put in his hands. His tone sounding like he assumed the worst.

"Well shit, don't sound too excited." I joked, "It's nothing bad, just wait here for a second." I said as I quickly got back up to my feet, heading back towards the tent momentarily.

My hands fished around through my bag where I had kept it hidden since I got it, finally feeling the leather material amongst everything else and pulled it out. I gave it one last glance before putting it behind my back, exiting the tent and looking towards him expectantly.

"Okay, close your eyes." I said.

He looked at me suspiciously for a moment or two, before his eyes fluttered closed anyway, trusting me blindly. My feet moved further towards him, standing right in front of him and bringing out the item to hold it out so he could see the back of it first.

"Open them."

He slowly peaked one eye open, both of them then getting wide once he saw what I was holding. I then handed it over to him so he could actually get a better look at it, but he was only wearing an expression that I couldn't read as he sat there quietly.

"I found it on a run yesterday with Glenn...I don't know, I just thought of you when I saw it. Plus, I never got you anything in return when you got me my sketchbook, so I thought this was perfect...do you like it?" I asked, his silence only make me grow uneasy.

He then finally met my eyes, not wasting another second before he picked me up in his arms, spinning me around in the air as he hugged me tight. I yelped in surprise, before I was laughing at the enthusiasm I had never seen from him before, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in return.

"I love it." he said seriously, placing me back down on my feet before turning it around and throwing it on over his long sleeve button up, "How does it look?" he asked, turning around to show me the back as well.

I nodded to myself as my eyes roamed over his figure, "Great." I confirmed as he turned back around to face me, "You look good in leather."

He cocked an eyebrow at me, "Yeah?" he asked to which I simply nodded my head, "Then I'll wear it till the damn thing falls apart."

A genuine smile made its way back onto my face at that, getting close enough to pull him back in from the new collar of his vest. He sighed deeply, his hands falling in place at either side of my waist as he showed me how much he truly loved the gift. But like always, the moment didn't last nearly as long as either one of us would've liked, him pulling back after only a few seconds.

He rested his forehead against mine with a sigh, "We should probably head back." he muttered, clear disappointment lacing his voice.

I groaned, "Why can't we just stay? I'm a lot happier here, without all their negative bullshit."

He only laughed, "I know, but don't ya think they're gonna start wonderin where we are?"

I let out a heavy breath before fully pulling away, "Yeah, alright." I muttered.

He smiled and pulled me back into him for one more quick kiss before we headed back towards the house, dreading what the rest of today would bring.

For the majority of the day, everyone was going back and forth about what to do with Randall who continued to make himself comfortable in the shed. Just like I dreaded. Another pointless conversation that would leave us all yelling and pointing at each other while nothing would get settled.

Dale was making his way around to anyone in the group he could sink his teeth into, asking if they truly thought killing him was the right thing to do. He was basically a walking survey for the entire day, but a really annoying survey that doesn't respect your opinion and wants you on his side. When he asked me my thoughts, I just told him that I didn't want him to die, but I didn't want him to live either. I had to let him down saying I wouldn't stand with him when it came time to make a decision, and I could tell he was disappointed in me, but quickly picked himself back up and moved onto the next person.

He left me alone after one last disapproving look that I couldn't get out of my head while I continued to sharpen my knives. I didn't want it to be this way and he knew that, no one did, but this is what it's come to in the end and we just had to deal with it. The world clearly wasn't the same as it once was, and though it was something that would take a while to get used to, we all at some point had to accept it.

Glenn eventually made his way over to the same spot we sat in yesterday, plopping down on his ass right next to me as I stopped my movements mometarily to see what he needed.

"We have to stop meeting like this." I joked.

He sighed heavily, "Do you think it's the right thing to do?" he asked, ignoring my comment and looking out towards Dale's retreating figure.

I followed his gaze before placing my weapons down with a huff, "I don't know, not really. But I also don't trust him enough to let him go. And we can't keep him locked up here forever."

He nodded his head, "Yeah, I know. But it still feels wrong."

"It is." I said bluntly, "But I don't want anything bad to happen to anyone here because of him. Especially you." I winked.

That caused him to let out a small laugh, and I moved closer so I could rest my head on his shoulder, in hopes of feeling some comfort at a stressful time like this.

"I don't want anything to happen to you either." he continued, "Or Maggie... or anyone. That's why I'm not trying to stop this." he said.

"I know," I whispered, "You're too good for this world, Glenn."

He scoffed at my comment, but didn't make any attempts to argue. In my mind I assumed he didn't say anything else because he knew it was true, though he didn't want to believe it, he was too good of a person. A people pleaser on steroids. Just simply wanting the best for everyone around him.

There was a long and comfortable silence that followed after my last words, soaking up the air around us before he suddenly opened his mouth again.

"So, what's going on between you and Daryl?" he asked casually.

I preferred the silence.

My eyes widened at the sudden question I wasn't expecting, my mouth becoming very dry at the thought. I couldn't tell him, not now at least. I wanted to respect Daryl's privacy and also I kind of liked the idea of nobody knowing about us. It was nice to not have watchful and knowing eyes constantly glued on us, and if I told him about the big secret, that would surely change. In fact, I would never hear the end of it.

I slowly lifted my head to look at him casually, "What do you mean?" I asked.

He gave me a pointed look, "Come on, I've seen the way you two have been acting lately. Leaving at the same time, stealing glances at each other, the way he looks at you now is like... even more intense than it used to be."

I scoffed at his words, brushing them off as if they meant nothing, "I don't know what you're talking about, we're just friends."

"Uh huh, okay, sure." he muttered, "You can lie all you want but just remember, I'm your best friend and I know everything. So, whenever you decide to tell me the truth, I want details." he stated.

"Is this really what you think about to help you sleep at night? That Daryl and I are together?" I asked him playfully.

He shrugged, "No, not necessarily, but I think you two are good for each other."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever you say."

"So, it is true?" he asked with wide eyes and a hopeful smile.

"No." I deadpanned.

He sighed but dropped the topic completely upon hearing my tone, and our conversation continued like normal. That is until we were called into the house to finally have the discussion on what to do about Randall. It was like a reality check slapped me across the face and believe me when I say, it stung. I didn't want to fight about this, not anymore. But clearly there was no way out of it now.

The two of us made our way back up to the house and into the living room, finding a place to stand as we waited for everyone else to fill the empty space. I found myself leaning up against the wall while Glenn sat down on the couch in front of me, watching the group slowly pile in with anxious looks on their faces.

Daryl was one of the last ones to come in the room and I watched him out of the corner of my eye.  He seemed to be scanning the room before his eyes landed directly onto me, making his way towards my direction only a second later. His frame leaned up against the wall right beside me, bumping his shoulder with mine as we both stood with our arms crossed in front of our chests silently.

I glanced over at him and gave him a small smile before turning back to face in front of me again, my eyes finding Glenn's amongst the crowd of people. His gaze was already on me, looking back and forth between Daryl and I as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. My eyes narrowed as I gave him a pointed look that seemed to shut him up fast, now looking everywhere but me as he awkwardly started the conversation.

"So...how do we do this? Just take a vote?" he asked.

The room was silent for a moment as everyone thought before Andrea piped in, "Does it have to be unanimous?"

"How about majority rules?" Lori suggested.

Rick sighed and shook his head, "Let's just see where everyone stands, then we'll talk through the options."

"Well, the way I see it, there's only one way to move forward." Shane spoke up.

"Killing him. Right?" Dale asked without missing a beat, "I mean why even bother taking a vote? It's clear which way the wind is blowing."

"Well if people think we should spare him, I want to know." Rick spoke.

Dale nodded a little to himself, clear disappointment in his eyes as he scanned around the room, "Well, I can tell you it's a small group, maybe just me and Glenn."

My gaze then snapped back towards Glenn in utter confusion, not even five minutes ago he was telling me the opposite, that we were on the same page. But then I saw the guilty look in his eye when he looked back at Dale and I knew he hadn't told him he changed his mind.

He kept his eyes down as he spoke quietly, "Look I-" he took a breath, "I think you're pretty much right about everything all the time but this-"

"They've got you scared!" Dale exclaimed.

"He's not one of us," Glenn said calmly, "And we've lost too many people already."

There was a painful silence that followed, the older man looking everywhere to try and confide in someone else, before gesturing to Maggie, "How about you? Do you agree with this?" he asked.

She stayed silent, biting her lip subtly in thought before she turned to Rick, "Couldn't we continue keeping him prisoner?"

"Just another mouth to feed." Daryl spoke lowly.

"It may be a lean winter." Hershel pointed out.

"Well, he could be an asset, give him a chance to prove himself." Dale pleaded.

I shook my head, "No way in hell we're just letting him walk around freely." I spoke.

"We could put an escort on him?" Maggie suggested.

Shane scoffed with a nod of his head, "Yeah, and who wants to volunteer for that duty?"

"I will!" Dale said as he raised his hand in the air.

"I don't think any of us should be walking around with this guy, okay?" Rick said.

"Look," Shane started, "Let's say we let him join us. Maybe he's helpful, maybe he's nice. We let our guard down, maybe he runs off and brings back his thirty men."

Daryl tensed up the slightest bit from beside me, enough so that I was able to catch it just out of the corner of my eye. Without looking over, I subtly found his hand beside me and intertwined our fingers together, giving it a squeeze in reassurance.

"So, the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime he may never even attempt?" Dale snapped, "If we do this, we're saying there's no hope. Rule of law is dead, there is no civilization."

"Oh my God." Shane suddenly muttered as he ran a hand over his shaved head.

I didn't know what possessed me to do this, truly I didn't. The whole situation was stressful enough as it was without his little negative comments, so when I heard him mutter something even slightly, I didn't hesitate to pick up one of the apples in a bowl next to me and chuck it at him. As soon as it bounced off of his head, his eyes snapped towards me almost instantly in silent anger, clearly just as fed up with my shit as I was with his.

"Shut up." I slightly snapped before crossing my arms back over my chest.

Glenn immediately covered his mouth as he tried to hide his laugh that threatened to escape, while something else brushed up against my arm to get my attention. It was Daryl holding out his hand for a subtle high five which I gladly accepted, looking up after to see his lips pressed together trying to suppress a smile.

There were a few seconds of silence, everyone left shocked and somewhat speechless before Hershel cleared his throat, "Anyway... could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?"

"You... barely came back last time. There are walkers, you could break down, you could get lost." Lori stressed.

"Or get ambushed." Daryl said.

"...Maybe we shouldn't put our own people at risk." Glenn said.

Patricia then stepped up with a worried look on her face, "If you do go through with it... how would you do it?"

"We could hang him, just snap his neck." Shane suggested, glaring back at me every chance he got.

I was tempted to get another apple, wanting to get it through his skull that not everything was about him and his own opinion, but I refrained. Even though it would be just as hilarious the second time as it was the first.

"I thought about that, shooting him may be more humane." Rick stated.

"Well, what about the body?" T-Dog asked, "Do we bury him?"

Dale then stepped forward again with widened eyes, "Woah, woah, hold on you're talking about this like it's already been decided."

"We've been talking about this all day and then some." I said, "Going around in circles, you just want to go around in circles again?"

"This is a young man's life!" he snapped, "And it is worth more than a five minute conversation...Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with him? You saved him!" he pointed towards Rick, "Now look, he's been tortured, he's going to be executed. How are we better than those people we're so afraid of?"

That's what made everyone stop and think for a moment. I could see Dale's point on some things, but I wasn't planning on changing my mind, nor was anyone else here it seemed like. We didn't know him or his group and when Daryl came back from talking to him earlier, I could just tell that this guy couldn't be trusted. Not when his people were so proud of doing those horrible things.

"We're better because we don't kidnap children. We don't torture women. That right there is just the tip of the iceberg of what his people have done. So yeah, I'd say we're a little bit better than them. He can't be trusted, and you know it, not after everything he spilled about his group." I spoke.

"So, what is the solution?" Andrea suddenly asked, "I mean we haven't come up with a single valuable option yet. I wish we could-"

"So, let's work on it!" Dale interrupted.

"Stop it! Just stop it." Carol suddenly cried, "I'm sick of everyone arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this, I didn't ask for us to decide something like this. Please decide, either of you, both of you. But leave me out of it."

Dale then pointed a finger at her, "Not speaking out, or killing him yourself, there's no difference."

"Hey!" I snapped, "You don't get to put all of this on her just because she doesn't want to be a part of this fucked up decision."

"That's enough!" Rick yelled before I could continue, though I saw Carol smiling towards me gratefully. "Anybody who wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance now." he concluded.

There was just silence. Nobody wanted to talk about this anymore. Nobody wanted to think about it anymore. We all just wished for something to happen, something that would cause us just to move on from this.

Dale then couldn't take the silence, "You once said we don't kill the living." he said to Rick.

"Yeah, that was before the living tried to kill us." he said.

"But don't you see if we do this, the people we were, the world that we knew is dead... and this new world is ugly, it's harsh, it's survival of the fittest! And that's a world I don't want to live in. And I don't believe that any of you do, I can't. Please... let's just do what's right." he begged, tears now flooding in his eyes.

I assumed the room would stay silent, finally sealing in the realistic decision to eliminate the threat. But Andrea stepped forward, almost hesitantly, but yet sure that this is what she wanted to do.

"He's right." she muttered, "We should try to find another way."

Rick only nodded, "Anybody else?" he asked.

Everyone now sat perfectly still, avoiding Dale's gaze as much as they could with him now looking towards everyone pleadingly.

He nodded his head with a scoff at the silence, "Are you gonna watch too?" he asked, "Nah you'll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering a human being. I won't be a part of it." he mumbled before heading towards the door to walk out of the room.

His head was hung low as he made his way past everyone, briefly stopping to glance at Daryl and placed a hand on his shoulder, "This group is broken." he said quietly before making his way towards the front door, leaving with a slam.

Processing everything all at once, including Dale's exit, I was the next one to leave after that. I didn't want to think about it anymore than I had to, and the decision was already made. That was it.

I walked until I felt like I couldn't anymore, out onto one of the many fields to watch the sun go down in front of me. I always loved this part of the day, where the sky was filled with the most beautiful shades of color I've ever seen. It made me feel calmer, it made me somehow forget everything just for a while. Even back when life was normal, I would always watch the sunset to just clear my head from the things that were bothering me the most. And right now I felt I needed the quiet more than ever.

I never thought life would come to this. Truly I didn't. Pushing us to a point where we would kill a man just because we didn't trust him. It was all fucked up seeing what the current world had come too after the dead began to rise. But in the back of my mind, I silently knew all of this could've been prevented.

If Rick hadn't helped him, brought him back here in the first place, we wouldn't have had to deal with this at all. Deal with something that was clearly tearing this group apart. I by all means wasn't blaming him for just trying to do the right thing, but you bet your ass if I had a time machine right now I would use it.

Though it wasn't long before I wasn't alone anymore, Daryl's heavy footsteps slowly came up behind me, taking a seat close to my left as he followed my gaze. Neither one of us said anything for a while, just simply enjoying the view in front of us along with each other's presence. It only lasted a few minutes before he finally spoke up.

"Ya okay?" he hesitantly asked.

I turned my head towards him once I heard his voice, "Yeah." I nodded, "I'm just thinking."

He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, "Bout Dale?"

I shrugged, "About everything." I muttered vaguely before tilting my head at him in question, "Do you think he's right?" I suddenly asked.

I was surprised how quiet the question came out of my mouth, but Daryl heard it nonetheless, "Nah, we gotta keep everyone safe. We can't do that if we have him here. Can't trust him."

I nodded, though a part of me was still unsure. The last thing I wanted was to put someone down, saying that their opinion wasn't important or didn't matter, and I assumed that's exactly how Dale felt. But another part of me was sure that the decision we came to was the right one, even if the older man didn't agree with us right away, maybe someday he would thank us.

Although Daryl sensed I was thinking too much, tilting my chin up so I would look him in the eye again, "If it makes ya feel better, Shane's got a big ol red mark on his forehead from where ya hit him." he said, starting to chuckle halfway through.

I found myself laughing right along with him as the memory played back in my head, "You know what, that does make me feel better. Thank you."

He shrugged almost bashfully, "Anytime."

I found myself staring at him with such admiration without even meaning to, the sunset making him look more perfect if that was even possible. As I looked into his eyes, I felt a wave of comfort and happiness wash over me. He made me feel safer than I had ever felt before and I knew I could count on this man for anything. Though I didn't know what the future held for us, I somehow had a feeling we would be in it together.

~ Thanks for reading!

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