#also summary is from later on chapter it was the best i could do lmao

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Sexting, Cregan Stark, teasing, f masturbation.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Hello angels! Thanks for waiting for the next chapter so patiently hehe, it is a long chapter because I refuse to cut it down or split it lmao. Also, the cafe story happened to me LOL, bastards owe me so much money... Anyway, I hope you enjoy! <3

Chapter 3: Cregan Stark

Things with Cregan Stark started off with a casual one night stand.

It was raw, it was heated, and exactly what you needed. You had fully expected for you to never see him again, going back to your daily routine without a thought spared. But when you had gotten another text from Cregan a few days later, the two of you hit it off. 

Things were easy.

Casual. 

Simple. 

You liked the simplicity of it all. You needed something that had no strings attached after your previous ex; an absolute nightmare of a man who whored himself out and would then try to flip the blame you. You don’t even know what you saw in that man. The tipping point was finding him in bed with his now girlfriend, Johanna. And even then, he tried to blame you for coming home early.

But Cregan was different. 

He was great at communicating, and a complete change to Jason Lannister. Where Jason was blonde, Cregan was a dark brunette. Where Jason had deep blue eyes, Cregan’s were grey, like a winter storm.

Cregan treated you like a human being, with autonomy and respect, and let you take the lead on what you wanted.

When you needed to feel someone between your legs, he would be at your house faster than you could Winterfell. And as much as you would have wanted him to come over, you couldn’t do that to Aemond on his first night in. 

You texted Cregan back, telling him that he couldn’t come around that night, and explained  the situation. 

You laughed softly at his response, deciding to tease him. 

Panic began to settle in your chest as you read those three fateful words.

Cregan couldn’t come here.

Not with Aemond only just settling in. You texted him back, with no response coming in on his end. You held your phone in your fist looking down at the chat, frantically texting him three more times, desperate for a response. 

Your heart raced in your chest as you waited for him to respond.

What would Aemond say?

What would he think?

You couldn’t just bring over a man on the first night of him staying there. Especially with him already being so uptight. You knew that Alicent was a devout follower of the Seven, what if Aemond was the same?

You stared down at your phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you were about to fire off another frantic text. 

Soon, three little grey dots appeared on your screen, and your breath held in your throat. 

You blushed, warmth settling in your core.

Cregan, whilst he was kind and gentle, wasn’t always soft in bed, and had a way of making you putty in his hands. He had this air of dominance that surrounded him, most likely helped by his towering frame. 

Sometimes you would push your luck, prodding him to react, and at those times he would swiftly bend you over his knee and land his hand across the sensitive flesh of your cheeks, bringing you to your peak until you couldn’t anymore. And then after, the sweetness that you had come to know of Cregan would come back. 

But for the majority of the time, Cregan was a more attentive, sweet lover. He only became rough when you truly pushed him to it, otherwise he was content to fuck you slowly, sensually and watch you come undone beneath him.

Looking back down at your phone, you sent off a cheeky response.

You loved that the two of you could have such an arrangement. No strings attached, casual, and comfortable enough for the two of you to simply spend time in each others company without the need of anything sexual. 

Helaena had tried to say that it was a situationship, but that implied that there were feelings involved, and as far as you were concerned, there was none on either end.

You watched as three grey dots appeared on the screen. 

Your cheeks felt hot as you stared at your phone.

Cregan really knew you all too well, and although it had taken a while for the two of you to adjust and get to know each other, it was well worth it for this.

You jumped up from your spot on the couch, core tingling and went to bed, your heart fluttering in anticipation as you settled into your sheets. This wasn’t the first time Cregan had told you or guided you through some play when he wasn’t there. 

A phone call here or there, voice notes on occasion, and more frequently, little text commands that seemingly came out of nowhere.

You loved it.

Reaching into your side table you pulled out your favourite vibrator, a small pink bunny shaped vibe that you could insert as well. Stripping your shirt over your head, you pulled down your shorts and underwear, kicking them away from the bed. 

Texting Cregan back, you asked what you should do, acting dumb and coy to rile him up, but all he sent was a one worded response.

 

Pressing the vibrator against you, you let the vibrations pass up through your body, the sudden spark causing your back to jolt up off of the mattress. You breathed heavily as pleasure began to whirl its way through your body. 

You panted as you thought of Cregan above you, large hands pushing their way inside of you, touching you, grabbing you. Pleasure wound its way up through your gut, winding it tightly, a coil ready to snap.

A small moan flitted out of your lips and you clamped a hand tightly to your mouth. Aemond was just across the hall. Fuck. You needed to be quiet.

Your teeth bit down on the back of your hand to muffle any sounds that you would make, but the idea of him hearing you sparked a sudden burst of pleasure through you, triggering your orgasm. 

Your back arched off of the bed as you whined quietly into the room, eyes scrunched shut as warm spread through your limbs.

Soon the vibrations became too much and you tossed the vibe on the opposite side of the bed as you came down from your high, chest rising and falling lazily.

Reaching for your phone, you texted Cregan that you had done what he had told you to do, smiling lazily at your phone as you waited for him to respond. 

He sent a quick, 'Good girl' response which was shortly followed by a 'Go to sleep xx'.

The text made your core clench and a small moan escaped from your lips, grinning at the praise. You texted him goodnight before setting your alarms for the morning. You rolled over in bed, the nervous energy having slipped away from your body and the warm buzz of your orgasm pull you down into a gentle sleep.

-

The loud beeping of your alarm jerked you from your sleep.

You groaned, turning to hit the snooze button on your phone as you rolled onto your back, staring up at the roof as you sighed. You blinked sluggishly at the ceiling medallion until the snoozed alarm blared loudly at you again. 

You dragged yourself from your sheets, pulling on your clothes for work, limbs feeling heavy as you worked them into some high waisted suit pants that made your ass look great.

Slowly but surely, you made your way out of your room and to the bathroom to put some makeup on and do your hair.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, hair atop your head in a rats nest, sleep in your eyes and fatigue in your features. You sighed and got to work, quickly making yourself presentable before getting ready to leave. 

When you exited the bathroom, you noted that Aemond’s door was open, and when you peaked inside, Helaena’s bed was already made. You looked down the hall as you began to make your way to the kitchen, hoping that he was just an early riser, and that the alarm hadn’t jerked him from his sleep.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you entered the lounge room and kitchen, with Aemond nowhere to be found. You put the kettle on to make yourself a cup of tea to help you wake up, leaning against the cabinets lazily. 

You really didn’t want to go to work today.

You almost dreaded it every time.

Whilst the pay was good, amazing even, and the work was not too stressful, Larys was a certified pain in yours and everyone else’s ass. You didn’t know what Alicent saw in him, or why she had made him COO over Rhaenyra.

Though you supposed that’s why the company had split apart.

Daemon and Rhaenyra took their best lawyers with them, the firm being flipped upside down by the sudden and brutal change. The pair were a force to be reckoned with, a true power couple, and if you were being honest, you were in awe of them.

The odds were against them when they split from Viserys’ legacy, but were quick to gather their support from loyal coworkers, starting from the ground up.

Making quick work of it, ‘Perzys Ānogār Legal’ (Blood and Fire) became rivals with ‘Red Keep Law’.

You drained your cup of tea, putting the mug in the washer before grabbing your bag and getting ready to leave. Helaena’s keys gone from the bowl, an even bigger confirmation of Aemond’s absence. You wondered where he went.

The gym maybe? A walk? Coffee? The possibilities were endless.

You had walked to the nearby train station and made your train by a mere second before the door closed shut. And by the time you had gotten to the office, you had made it on time, if not five minutes early to begin your eight hour shift. 

Working at a law firm had its perks.

Everything was done by the books, which ensured that you were being paid a fair, and if you were being honest, decent wage, unlike the cafe you had worked at for years, who turned out was not paying any of the staff the correct wages, and refused to disclose the payslips, stating their accountants had lost them.

The payslips never existed. 

You typed away at your desk, grabbing a cup of tea from the break room and a piece of fruit as you sorted through Gwayne Hightower’s schedule for the day, answering any emails that he received and forwarding them onto him. The next was Larys Strong’s, until the day flew by as you slogged away behind your desk doing menial tasks. 

The clock ticked loudly on the wall as you watched it finally click over to 5:00pm. As soon as the hand hit the five, you exited all of the windows you had open, and shut down your computer, moving to stand. 

You felt the presence of someone behind you and breathed in a sigh, as you immediately knew who it was.

“Running off?” Larys Strong mused, looking at the turned off monitor and bag you had slung over your shoulder. 

“You don’t pay me for off the clock hours, and as of now, I am off the clock.” You smiled sweetly.

Your boss smiled back in a way a shark would to its prey, “We love a staffer dedicated to their work.”

“That’s why I joined the union. I am dedicated to fairness and upholding our rights as workers in this firm. See you tomorrow, Larys.” You turned away from him, walking to the elevators. 

When you turned around, the thin, brunette man was still standing at your desk watching you, and as the doors closed, you could have sworn his eyes flitted down your legs to your feet again. 

Ew.

When you had gotten on the train, you checked your phone, sending a quick text to Helaena to see how she was doing. She responded almost immediately, saying she was fine and hungry, but that she was going out for dinner with Daeron tonight before they would both depart together to Kings Landing in the morning. You asked for pictures of the food and talked pointlessly until you got home. 

Arriving back at the flat, you found it quiet and empty, a definite change to the apartment bursting with life when you came home to Helaena. She was always either playing music, had a show on, or was talking or singing to herself. There was never not noise in the flat, and without it, it seemed to drain the life from the walls.

Though you supposed that it would be quiet, what with Aemond’s lack of conversational skills. 

Come to think of it, was it lack of skills, or lack of want? Maybe he didn’t wish to speak to you. Maybe, he was rude. You would find out soon enough, but in the present moment, it felt like the latter.

You called out to your best friends brother, wondering if the silver haired Targaryen was somewhere, hiding in the shadows, and when no reply came back, you dropped the thought all together. 

Kicking your shoes off you dropped your keys into the little dish by the door and made your way inside, dumping your bag on the dining room table. You stretched up on your tiptoes, letting a small groan fall from your lips as you trudged to your room.

Digging through your cupboard you grabbed a pair of pyjamas and made your way to the bathroom to shower. You had turned the water on when you realised you didn’t have the speaker with you, so running from the bathroom you went to the kitchen where it last was. 

Grabbing it, you ran back to the shower and put your phone on shuffle, music pouring out of the speakers as you finally delved beneath the steaming spray. You let the water wash away the stress of the day and sighed, cracking your neck as you tilted your head backwards, letting the water wet your face so that you could wash it. 

The shower was large, and the faucets were the original brass that they would have been when the flat was made. And whilst at times the water could take some time to heat up, there was no denying that the water pressure was perfect. 

You stayed in there for a while before turning off the shower, singing until your heart was content as you moisturised, steam filling the room. After getting dressed, you made your way to go back to your room, grabbing your phone and speaker along with your dirty clothes. 

The sun had now set, and the blanket of night settled across Kings Landing.

Usually Helaena would be in your room on your bed, laying on her back or stomach whilst on her phone, watching videos or documentaries and waiting to ask you about your day. It was disappointment to not see her where she usually was.

Despite the music coming out of your speakers, and the soft whispering of the words from your lips, the apartment still felt quiet, empty. Desolate.

You left your room, deciding it was time to make some dinner. The lights in the apartment were off, and so you flicked on the various lamps and lights that were scattered in the apartment, staying true to the ‘No Big Light’ rule that you and Helaena had set, insisting upon the warm glow of multiple light sources instead. 

Grabbing the sauce from the fridge, you wondered where Aemond was again.

Would he be gone all night? Should you be expecting him?

Opening the Tupperware you realised there was only enough for one more serving of pasta, and deciding that you didn’t know where her brother was, or when he would be back, you claimed first dibs and began to boil some water to cook the pasta.

Grabbing your phone, you flicked off a text to Aemond, asking if he would be home for dinner, before setting your phone back down and deciding to call Helaena. You put the phone on loudspeaker as you moved around the kitchen, listening to the ringing before her chirpy voice flitted through the speaker.

“Dōna Y/n.” Sweet, Her voice sang, Valyrian accent on her tongue.

You grinned down at the phone as you stirred the pasta, “Hey Baby Bug. I miss you!”

“Aw, I miss you too! I’m here with Daeron. Say hi.”

Daeron’s smooth voice popped over Helaena’s, “Hey girl.”

“How are you?” You leant against the cabinets, phone up to your face.

“I’m good, it’s been a while.” Daeron replied, you could hear Helaena whining in the background for the phone, “Heard my brother is there with you.”

You laughed, “He’s not here right now, so I can’t give him the phone to say hey.” You explained, looking into the bare apartment.

Daeron chuckled, and it reminded you of Helaena’s soft laugh, “Wouldn’t get much but a grunt out of him anyway.”

“Where is he?” Helaena asked, the speaker of the phone muffling as she grabbed it out of her youngest brothers hand.

You checked your phone for any notifications of his reply. 

None.

“Dunno. He was gone this morning and hasn’t come back yet.” You sighed, stirring the pasta.

“Are you being nice?”

“Hel, I'm not being not nice. We shared I think maybe twenty words to each other last night.”

“20?" Daeron chirped, "That’s a new record.”

“Fuck off, Daer.” His sister griped, “That’s good,” She spoke into the speaker towards you, “He will warm up to you soon, and you can talk History, and Politics, and Poetry until your hearts content.”

You frowned at your phone, “Poetry? Hel, I didn’t say anything about that. Did he talk to you?” Suspicion in your voice. 

“You’re in trouble.” Daeron sang, and you heard a loud smacking sound, followed by an ‘ouch’.

“I called him this morning to make sure he was playing nice.” Helaena explained, though her tone sounded sheepish, “I don’t need to come home to a dead brother and roommate.”

You snorted into the phone, “No murder in the house if one member isn’t present. Unless he’s hiding around in the shadows.” Your eyes lifted to the apartment, scanning the lounge/dining room.

“Hows Cregan going?” The youngest Targaryen asked, intrigue in his tone.

“Hel, you snitch.”

“I did nothing!”

You put the phone on the counter and stirred the pasta roughly with a fork, “He’s good. Strictly casual, though. Sex is great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Details, details!” Daeron chanted excitedly, Helaena squealing in the back even though she already knew the details, and had actually heard the action on one or more occasion, much to your embarrassment, and her delight to tease you.

“Great sex. Great dick. Great body. Treats me like a human being.”

“Bare minimum.” Daeron and Helaena chanted at the same time.

“He actually texted me last night.”

“What did he say?” Helaena grabbed the phone, Daeron cursing his sister in the background.

“Wanted to come over.”

“Did you let him?”

“Hel, no. Aemond has only just got here. I can’t just bring Cregan over on his first night in.”

“Scandalous.” Daeron snickered.

“Shut up, you. Like you can talk.” Helaena argued, “What about when mum caught you with Kermit Tully?”

A gasp came from the other end of the phone, and you screamed. 

“Kermit Tully?” You said in disbelief, “You fucked Kermy?! Sweet baby Kermy? Red headed, soft natured, Kermy?”

“He wasn’t soft, I can tell you that much.” Daeron smirked.

You and Helaena both squealed.

“Oh my god. Now I want details!” You giggled, straining the pasta.

“Come to the Keep with us and I will give you all the juicy story of my long, hard, rough, night with the Kermit Tully.”

Putting your pasta in a bowl, you poured the sauce over the top, “Okay, well now I might have to come join you. But I don’t want to intrude with your fam.”

“Nonsense, you are family!” Helaena said lovingly.

“Naw, you lil cutie.” You grinned at your phone, carrying it over to the couch, “Don’t speak too soon though, I'm going to have to love you and leave you, I gotta eat my dinner.”

Daeron huffed, “Oh, so you just wanted the tea and now you’re going to leave us.”

“Yep!” You smirked, “I love you both, and bloody hell Helaena, FaceTime me this week. I’m having Targaryen withdrawals.”

“Just look at my brother and you’ll be fine.”

“Fuck off.”

“Love you!"

“Love you. Bye!"

“Bye, scuttle bug.”

The line ended and you put your phone down, turning the tv on with a flick and settling into the cushions with your bowl in your lap. Dance Moms played as you ate the pasta, with still no sign of Aemond. You checked your phone again.

He had left you on read. 

Dick.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 4

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); lots of sexual things happening in ‘real land’ and ‘dream land’ in this chapter; anxiety; heavy petting; Jake being an asshole; Reader is incredibly stubborn (like bad…it will probably aggravate you lmao) . . . i probs forgot some, so just lmk what i missed!

Chapter Word Count: 18k+ (i’m very sorry :o)

Covet Masterlist

a/n:

hi, loves :)

i have to tell you, i’ve been waiting to share some of the things that happen in this chapter for a longgg time. i’ve had a few of these scenes written and schemed for a hot damn second haha. they’re some of my personal favs.

i hope you enjoy, lovies!! <333

-🌼🌼🌼-

Chapter 4

You were still reeling from your dream when you decided to get up and get ready for the day. 

You had an open to close shift at the shop today since it was truck day and a week before inventory. You always worked with Josh on truck days. And since you had inventory to prep for, you’d be working together very closely to get things done. 

You weren’t sure how you were going to handle being around Josh all day after your dream about Jake. 

So you’d made the executive decision that as soon as your feet touched the floor, you’d pretend the dream hadn’t happened at all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you got ready for the day, you did a great job at pushing down any lingering thought.

You decided you were totally ready to conquer the day when you placed your vanilla cappuccino K-cup in your Keurig. 

A few moments after standing at the coffee machine, you heard keys shuffling in the dish on the counter. You didn’t even acknowledge his presence. You just stared at your coffee trickling into your cup as though your life depended on it. 

You heard the door open for Jake to leave, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Hope you had a restful sleep last night, y/n.” 

Almost.

He continued to speak in a way that was much too friendly. “Heard you wake up a little early this morning,” he paused and your skin flushed at what he could be implying. Surely not. “Thin walls, you know.” 

You knew your eyes had slightly bugged at that, but you tried to school your features. 

There was no way he’d heard me say his name as I. . ., you thought. I was so quiet. 

You glanced his way, a stone-cold look set on your features. You weren’t even going to acknowledge what he’d said. 

“Have a good day, Jake,” you’d said firmly. You wanted him to know you were done with whatever conversation this could easily become. 

He smirked and winked at you, and you instantly looked back to the Keurig. You felt your ears and cheeks heat. 

And when he closed the door, you finally breathed and decided for the second time that day that you were not giving him any more thought.

-🌼🌼🌼-

A couple weeks later. . .

You kept catching yourself thinking about the twins and their recent activities. Why Jake would leave as soon as he’d get home, why Josh never worked evenings anymore. . . You didn’t know why your curiosity was killing you, but it was. Something was off. And whatever was going on, you were dying to know. It all had to be connected. Your mind had been running especially wild since that day recently where Josh had picked Jake up. It wouldn’t have seemed strange if Jake hadn’t been leaving that night, just like all of the other nights: guitars in tow. 

You’d also had the occasional (unwelcome) thought of your dream with Jake. 

The one where he’d been laying between your legs, his mouth doing everything so perfectly right. It had only been one week since your subconscious had betrayed you completely with whatever that had been, and you were really trying to act as though it hadn’t happened at all. 

“You know the career that Jake had to give up?” 

You blinked a few times to register that Josh was talking. And about Jake, no less.

You had both been in your own little worlds of thought today. Tomorrow would begin your scheduled inventory at the B&G. Because of that, the past week had required a lot of time and meticulous work to prepare for it. The few times you had spoken to each other today had been in passing, exclusively about the vinyl in stock. 

“What?” You asked, completely oblivious to where this conversation was heading. 

All day, your thoughts had only been consumed with the records. You’d had a one track mind to get everything wrapped up before close. You had to.

You looked to the clock, realizing closing time was drawing near. You surveyed the store, forgetting Josh had spoken at all for a brief moment. You liked getting the store set up extremely well anytime there was inventory. You wanted to solidify that it was ready to go before any conversation happened. 

“You think we’re about ready for the big guys tomorrow?” You asked him this as your eyes still scanned the store. You were answering your own question as you did. You had to admit, everything looked pretty damn good. 

Josh walked around the store, checking everything one final time. “Looks like we’re all set and ready to roll!” 

You nodded in agreement, and saw that closing time was about ten minutes away. You had a few minutes to hear whatever Josh was talking about.

You went and leaned against the front of the cash register counter, crossing your arms across your chest. “What were you saying again, Joshy?” 

“Jake’s dream,” you looked to see your friend coming up from checking the last record aisle. He leaned against the wooden display next to the check-out counter. “Y’know, the one he’s always wanted to pursue, but was forced to give up,” he continued. “The one I didn’t want to tell you about because it wasn’t my own,” you nodded, remembering. “Well, lately . . .it’s become my life,” he sighed loudly. “And I’ve decided I have to talk to you about it.”

You nodded again, and re-folded a B&G t-shirt to keep yourself busy. Then, it all clicked in your head. Your tired brain caught up to what this could be. 

Your ears perked up, looking up to catch his eyes again as yours got huge. “If this has become your life. . . Does it happen to be the same thing that you’ve been hiding from me?!”

He rolled his eyes, but then grinned at you. “Yes, y/n. It’s what I’ve been ‘hiding’,” he’d used air quotes, jesting at you. “Miss Dramatic, you.”

You knew you’d been giving the situation way too much thought. You just hadn’t been able to help your wandering thoughts. Josh had been working completely different shifts than the whole time he’d worked with you, and Jake was always gone. 

Not that you really noticed when Jake was home, anyway; it didn’t matter to you. 

But still.

“So. . . What’s going on?” You prompted.

He glanced down momentarily, then connected eyes with you. “We’re forming a band,” he started. 

You let every piece connect in your head, but one thing didn’t line up.

“Well, it makes sense with Jake’s guitars. Always going out the door with him after work, but I—you. . .,” You shook your head to yourself. “You don’t play an instrument, do you?” 

He gave a cheesy grin. “I play the vocals,” he lightly tapped an open palm to both sides of his throat to emphasize it. 

Your eyes widened more than they had before. “You sing?!” 

“Yeah. I actually have since high school,” he looked off into space, squinting. “I’ve recently found that it’s matured a lot since then, though.”

“Wow. Honestly, I’m a little shocked. I mean, I knew you loved music, but a singer?” You were still trying to grasp that, apparently, your best friend had this hidden talent. “Now I need to hear it,” you leveled him with a stare, straight into his eyes. A grin grew on your lips. “Sing for me.”

He shook his head, “Oh, no. . .,” He breathed out, brushing a hand through his hair. “You’ll just have to come to a gig.”

“A gig?” 

He chuckled at that. “Yeah, you know, places bands go to perform for others? Show what they’ve got to make it to the top,” he rubbed his chin. It had always been funny to you how often Josh seemed to magically transform into a man 50 years his senior. “We sent in a few clips of us performing to this place here in Brooklyn, and they booked us practically on the spot.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know what a gig is, Joshua. But I’m just — already? You’ve only been practicing for a couple of weeks.”

“This has been coming for years, y/n,” he said. “We used to spend every weeknight for years just playing and practicing and fighting over all of it in-between to make sure it was perfect,” he outwardly cringed at that. “We truly would practice all the time. It was our way of life for a long, long time,” he explained some more. “And on the weekends, we’d take a break from practicing and play for birthday parties or at little bars on the outskirts of our hometown.” 

“How did you get a gig here?” You genuinely wanted to know how they got hooked up in this giant-ass city. “People in New York surely aren’t as accepting of a little band from a small town as people had been in Frankenmuth. You were already from there, so of course it was probably easy to get places to perform. But New York? I mean. . .,” you blew out a big breath. 

“Danny’s dad knows a guy who knows a guy who's a partial owner of a few bars in Brooklyn,” you couldn’t help but tell that he looked disheartened. “I mean, the music we make isn’t half bad, y/n. I’m sure somewhere would have taken a chance on a few decent musicians. We’re not amazing, but we aren’t shit by any means. It wouldn’t have been impossible.”

Even though you really hadn’t meant to offend, he looked obviously hurt.

You realized just how rude you’d probably sounded. On occasion, you would talk before you really thought something through. It wasn’t your shining trait. 

You slapped your forehead, “God, Josh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. I could’ve worded it much better,” you continued. “I am honestly so excited for you. It’s really fuckin’ cool,” you looked around you, feeling anxiety continue to blossom. You wanted to get past sounding like a jerk. “Sooo, you already have a gig lined up or you’re waiting to hear back about one?”

“Have one lined up. Next weekend,” he explained, his voice still slightly tight. “It’s at a place called Baby’s All Right. It’s on Broadway. The Broadway that’s here in Brooklyn.”

“That’s amazing,” you wanted him to realize just how happy you truly were for him and his brothers. “When is it? I’ll totally be there,” you wanted him to look at you. But, he was peering down at his sandaled feet, seeming too concentrated to only be looking at a pair of sandals. “I’ll probably see if Elsie can drop by for a night, too. She’ll probably be able to come since it’s on a weekend.” 

He lightened at that. He shook his shoulders a bit, showing you that he was releasing some tension. Josh wasn’t one to hold a grudge or stay upset for any reason for too long. Though, he was one to get hurt pretty easily. He wore his heart on his sleeve.

“Oh, that would be cool,” he said in response to your idea, finally locking eyes with you. He was trying to play it off–the idea of Elsie being there. But you knew he’d probably die if she were there. “It’s actually happening next Saturday, if you wanna tell her.”

“Perfect. I’ll talk to her about it ASAP,” you glanced at the clock. Seeing what time it was, you went about gathering your stuff to leave and shut the store down. 

“What if you get, like, super famous?” A smile stretched across your face at the thought. You silently released some of your own tension as you moved about. You wanted to live in this moment with your best friend, share in the joy of possibility. 

“I don’t know about that,” Josh shook his head, clicking lights off. “That would be great, but we really are just starting out. Who even knows how long a journey like that could begin to take.”

You hummed. “Well, that’s the fun in it, Josh,” you reached a hand out and squeezed his shoulder, meeting up with him. “You have all the time in the world to see where this journey might take you. You have no idea what could be coming.”

“Life is all about the journey,” he agreed. “I’m just glad Jake came back to us so we could take this chance–explore this venture together. Wouldn’t have done it without my twin brother.”

“So it really was his whole idea to begin with?”

Josh’s eyebrows knitted and he nodded. “Oh, yes,” he enthused. “He started playing guitar so young that, to him, making music seemed like the only option for a career in life. He’s always wanted his whole life to be one dedicated to music. Y’know, loving it enough to make more for the world–share it with others. . .his mind is a very intricate place.” 

His voice softened as he continued to speak of his other half, pocketing his phone and heading for the door. You followed close behind. “Jake is the kind of person who thinks primarily about big things. His passionate nature for all of it– it’s what drives us. We wouldn’t have ever started or become even halfway good without him. He had the vision,” he snickered. “But, he and I argued and fought many-a-time over whose vision was better,” he chortled at that. “Danny and Sam would try to get us to stop. Those situations usually ended with me storming out, and Jake having to sing in my place. I’ve always had a flair for the dramatics.”

You smirked at the last line. “Of course you have. I don’t doubt it for a second.” You thought of the other thing he said. “Jake can sing?”

“He’s a Jack of all trades.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The weather that night was warm and muggy. You could even feel your hair beginning to frizz due to the few minute walk to your vehicle. 

You unlocked your car, which was parked right next to Josh’s beat-up clunker. Then, you remembered you hadn’t asked an important detail. 

“Oh, what’s the time of the show?” You reached in your purse to get your phone out, ready to make an event in your calendar. It’s not like you’d forget. This had all been huge news to you. It just seemed exciting to schedule this. You really couldn’t wait to hear their music and see your friends (and Jake) perform. You really had very little idea what to expect.

“7:00. And you’ll come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you walked over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. He squeezed you right back, which made you release one more breath you’d been holding in. You adored your best friend and his passionate nature. It was one thing that made him shine—made him Josh. 

And you never wanted to be one to dim that.

-🌼🌼🌼-

On the drive home, you contemplated everything Josh had told you.

The guys were in a band. A band apparently good enough to play at a fairly popular bar on a Saturday night. That was a pretty big deal.

Something was burning in the back of your mind though. 

Why had you reacted normally to finding out Josh could sing, but gotten so angry when you found out about Jake playing the guitar? You’d known Josh for longer, you should’ve been more upset that he was just now telling you of his secret. 

Jake and talents, they didn’t matter. 

The only thing he was to you was your roommate. A guy you didn’t really know at all. You shouldn’t give a shit about what he does. Josh was your best friend. He obviously mattered so much more to you. 

You scrunched your eyebrows together at all of it. You rubbed a couple fingers between them at a red light you came to, trying to ease the stress of your thought process. When the light turned green, your mind was still running.

Really, why didn’t your irritation rise when you found out Josh’d been hiding his gift? What Jake does or doesn’t do shouldn’t matter to you in the slightest.

As you pulled into the apartment complex, you went ahead and convinced yourself that it had been the alcohol’s fault. It had obviously heightened your emotions on game night. So when you’d found out about Jake hiding something, you’d flared up. That made sense. Only logical explanation.

Tensions had already been high that evening, so surely that’s the only reason it had bothered you so badly. Right?

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you walked through the door to your home that night, the first thing you heard was the shower running. 

You tried to make yourself believe that you were totally put out that Jake was home and not gone. But it actually felt a little nice to not have him gone.

Though, you didn’t want to chance running into a wet Jake. You were still trying to get over the feeling of his wet hair that had laid against your bare skin in your dream. 

Stevie purred as you quickly set food in her dish. Before you went to change out of your work clothes, you decided to prepare things to make pasta for yourself. You got the elbow noodles out, as well as the ingredients to make some sauce to go on top, and set water in a pot to begin boiling on the stove. 

You were busting your ass to get dinner started and wait in your room for Jake to be done and go to his room. Because, really, bumping into wet Jake was the last thing you needed. 

You speed-walked to the washer in the laundry room and stripped your clothing at a lightning-fast pace. You placed your clothes in the machine and rummaged through your hamper to see what else needed thrown in. 

The shower continued to go as you piled your laundry in, the quickest you ever had.

You blanched for a second at being naked right outside the bathroom door Jake was behind. But you were still trying to get used to the pattern of sharing laundry days with him. 

Due to sharing days, you were so backed up on laundry. You wanted to try to get ahead while you had the chance – even if it meant being almost-totally-naked right outside the door of the bathroom. 

Before, you and Elsie had always combined laundry since you shared clothes with each other anyway. So this was totally new to you.

Once the washer had started, you walked swiftly to your bedroom. As you went about looking for comfy clothes in your dresser, you came up empty on finding anything. For a few seconds, your brain pondered where in the hell all of your clothes were. Inventory week was the longest, and your brain was wiped. 

Once you realized where all your clothes had gone, you moaned to yourself and slapped a hand to your forehead for the second time that day. They were still in the dryer from this morning’s laundry load. Instantly, you were completely and utterly aggravated that you were so behind on laundry. Inventory had been a factor in you being behind on laundry that week. It’d been keeping you particularly busy for the past week. 

But, of course, having to share the washing machine and dryer with fucking Jake… He was the main reason you were so behind. It was his fault. 

When you heard the shower click off, your blood rushed to your ears. You panicked. Fuck. Literally all of your good comfy pants and shorts were awaiting you in the dryer. 

You tried to strategize your next course of action. You didn’t have much time, so you could only think of one solution on the spot. You decided you could make it to the dryer before he got out– if you booked it. 

You rushed out of your bedroom, almost tripping over your cat. Thankfully, he still wasn’t out when you got to the closet that held the washer and dryer at the end of the hallway. You silently thanked God. The giant load of lights made it extremely hard to locate a specific T-shirt and the gray sweat-shorts you were on a mission to find.

Then, all of your worst fears came to life. 

You were still crouched over, thong-clad ass up in the air, when you heard the bathroom door creak open. The steam from the heated bathroom washed over your bare ass. 

You couldn’t move. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin. You didn’t try to move or hide, even when you heard Jake’s frustratingly sexy, raspy voice.

“Ho-ly fuck.”

Without any control over your body, you felt your panties get a little wet at the sound of his voice and his words. It was a lot to hear with you in this position. 

He could see quite literally every piece of your ass, you knew it. Your skin heated in a way you couldn’t deny. 

Were you that sexually depraved? Had it been so long since you’d had sex that you got wet at the sound of his voice? Was that the reason your dreams had only been haunted by his tanned and toned body as of late? 

You finally grabbed a random shirt and the stupid gray shorts that you were so stubbornly stuck on finding (for no reason at all, really). And then, you quietly shut the door to the dryer. . . as if that would help the situation at all. 

You cursed yourself for thinking of this ludicrous idea. Why couldn’t you have just waited his shower out? Why did you have to make it a mission to race time? You’d definitely had better ideas. 

You slipped the T-shirt on to hide your chest that had only been covered by a pink bra covered in tiny strawberries. But you weren’t about to embarrass yourself by doing an awkward little dance to put your shorts on. You know, the same dance every girl seemed to do when putting a pair of bottoms on. He didn’t need one more thing to mock you for. 

Especially in this predicament. 

You held the shorts tightly to your stomach, and for some reason, before you turned on your heel, you didn’t ask him to look away. 

No, instead, when you turned around and saw that he was biting his fucking lip while simultaneously settling his eyes on your thighs. . . . . 

You sort of reveled in it. 

He was staring at you so intently, you decided you’d do it right back. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, you would gladly take any opportunity to look at Jake. 

A few tendrils of his brown hair came to rest just at the tops of his collarbones, sopping wet and dripping water down the chest that always looked so smooth. His skin continued to tan from the summer sun, making it a warm caramel. Continuing to admire him, you trailed your eyes down. You noticed how the muscles at his hips accentuated his form just right. 

Your eyes fell slightly lower, and the material of the white towel was thin enough, you could have sworn you saw a slight twitch underneath it, between his legs. 

It made you flick your eyes back up to his face. 

You watched as he went from letting his eyes unabashedly explore your figure, to then letting his gaze lock with your own. 

Fuck, if he wasn’t beautiful as hell. 

Your mouth went dry at the way his eyes bore into your own. You might as well have been bare ass naked – you felt completely taken under his darkened gaze. Your skin grew goosebumps again, except this time it wasn’t for a change in temperature. It was for a completely new reason. You sucked in a breath. He watched closely as your chest rose with the breath. 

You couldn’t take the heat that overtook your body. You were starting to feel nauseous at how hot your body was getting. And your underwear was getting uncomfortable. You felt more of your damp arousal gathering, hopefully still hidden by the material. . .  for now. You needed to stop this before it was any more obvious what was happening to you, though. The light gray material would surely start showing how you felt if you didn’t shut this down. You held the shorts over your crotch.

You looked down at your feet, as not to get distracted by him. “Turn around, Jacob.” You tried to keep your tone sharp, but you couldn’t help it when it wavered just a little bit.

“Yes ma’am.”

The way he said those words made your head spin. 

You glanced up and saw that he’d swiveled around, the velvety skin of his back was the first thing your eyes went to.

Surprisingly, he didn’t stay there and taunt you like you expected. As soon as he’d turned, he continued on to his bedroom, letting his hands move languidly next to his hips, just walking away like nothing had happened at all. 

You couldn’t help but watch the way he walked to his bedroom. It sat all the way at the end of the hall, giving your eyes ample time to sweep over the details of the backside of him. You could see the curve of his muscle underneath the tanned skin of his back. The waves of his hair stuck to the top of his shoulder blades, water droplets still dripping, wetting his skin.

You let your eyes avert downward, to the white towel that was hiding the ass that you just now realized was perfectly round. 

It was truly too much. Everything about the man was irresistible.

Why did he have to walk so damn slowly?! 

He finally got to his bedroom and shut the door softly behind him. The sound of the door should have shaken you from your reverie, but you kept staring at it for a bit. There was a part of you that was waiting on him to come back for more. 

Suddenly, you startled at the sound of water sizzling as it hit the burner, boiling over. 

You let the thoughts of him fall out of your head. You put the shorts on and almost tripped on a leg-hole as you did the little dance you knew you’d have to do to get your shorts over the curve of your ass. 

Stupid Jake Kiszka. Stupid gray shorts. Stupid plan. Stupid laundry. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Later, you were sitting on your couch watching New Girl when you started wondering about your roommate. He hadn’t made a move to come out of his room since your run-in in the hallway, and now you were on edge. 

It had been a while. Long enough for you to finish dinner and watch a full episode of the show.

Your mind ran rampant. Had he gone to bed? Was he avoiding you? Had he actually been repulsed by your appearance after seeing you almost naked? He had followed your instructions to turn around rather quickly. Too quickly? Had you read the situation completely wrong? 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t embarrass you to think of how you may have misinterpreted things with him in the hallway. 

You were irritated because you’d mentally established at the beginning that it was incredibly rude of him to avoid you in your own home.

But why did any of it matter at all? Ugh. 

You should’ve been happy that he was deciding to keep to himself. Him not being present was actually offering you some time to try and forget the hallway situation. You sighed to yourself as you focused hard on watching Schmidt say something to earn him a trip to the Douchebag Jar. You didn’t want to focus on Jake-related things.

Though, it seemed as soon as you’d decided that, Jake actually meandered in. 

You didn’t watch him for long. You just kept doing what you were doing. He would go away eventually and you would be alone again. 

That was what you wanted, right?

But then, he sat down on the other end of the couch. Butterflies filled your stomach at the proximity. 

You set your pasta bowl in your lap and peered up at him.

“Nice of you to join the class.”

His mouth turned up in a little grin at that. “You sure do miss me when I’m away, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to admit to the possibility that you might actually miss his presence a little from time to time. Why, though? He didn’t mean anything to you. You’d barely interacted with each other. And any time you did, he always got under your skin. 

He hummed to himself, and you couldn’t help it when you watched him spread his legs a little. He sat one hand on his plaid-pajama-panted thigh, and observed the screen for a couple of beats. Then he said, “You like New Girl?”

It stunned you just the slightest bit that he was making small talk with you, but you rolled with it, peeking over to him. “It’s my go-to.”

“It’s a favorite of mine as well.”

Shockingly, he stayed in his spot for an entire episode.

And when you got up to go put your bowl in the sink, you noticed that his eyes followed you to the kitchen. When he grasped that you’d seen him looking, he quickly turned his stare back to the television.

“Hey, are you hungry?” You asked him, once you’d put your dish away. 

You were completely unaware of why you were asking. Why were you trying to possibly get him to spend more time with you? This entire night had been weird. You weren’t sure how to handle it.

“I actually already ate out with a client before I got home,” he said it loud enough that you could hear his response from the kitchen.

Your stomach fell a little at that. “Oh, alright,” you called back. As you put your food away, you caught yourself wondering if the dinner with a client had been more like a date than something professional. You didn’t know why your mind went there.

For two more episodes, you sat at your end and he sat at his. You’d noticed that you seemed to laugh at the same exact moments as each other. And his laugh. . . it was something so enticing to your ears. You couldn’t explain it. You felt your stomach flip just the slightest bit anytime you heard the sound.

It did something good for you to know you had a similar-enough sense of humor to laugh at the same time. Maybe Josh had been right when he’d told Jake that first night that you two were alike. 

You shared an appreciation for similar types of music; you both enjoyed the act of bonding over music; you were both slightly stubborn (him more so, of course); and you both shared an appreciation for New Girl’s comedic relief. And that stood out because you had learned over time that the TV show wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But it was definitely Jake’s. 

Strange.

You lost yourself in thought for a bit, but couldn’t help it when Winston said something that was funny enough to pull you back in. You gave a little giggle at the scene.

And, of course, as you laughed, Jake had done just the same.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It felt slightly awkward going to bed. Standing in a hallway that seemed to be wrought with tension after the night’s stand-off and last week’s whatever-that-had-been just outside your bedroom door. 

You stopped at your door, and when he saw you do it, he stopped caddy-corner from you at his own door. You cleared your throat.

“So, Josh told me about the gig next weekend,” you paused. It hung there in the air. You didn’t know what else to say, other than that. 

But he seemed to appreciate the start in conversation because he hummed and gave a friendly smile that brightened his whole face. His eyes twinkled at you when he said, “It’s exciting. I’m excited.”

You gave him your own little grin. And, his eyes had seemed to light up a bit more when you smiled back, but you didn’t give it a thought. It was late. He was probably tired. It was very possible you had imagined the change in his expression because you were so tired.

“I’m excited for you, too.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

A couple days later that same week, in passing, he mentioned your cat. He was leaving the apartment to do (what you now knew to be) band-related things. 

“Stevie.”

“Why do you want my kitty cat?” You wondered. He smirked at the question, surely thinking something suggestive and you just said, “Shut the hell up. You know what I meant.”

“I don’t need her,” he kept smiling, probably still thinking of the little joke in his head. He clutched the door handle to leave, looking down. You couldn’t handle how cute he looked, his sunglasses covering his eyes. “Just—is she named after Ray Vaughan?”

“No. Stevie Wonder,” you corrected. “Why?” 

“Oh my fucking God—.”

“He’s one of my biggest inspirations. I had to—.”

“Would’ve been better,” he interrupted, flashing his eyes at you. “If you would have named her after Stevie Ray Vaughan.”

“I don’t love him like I love Stevie Wonder,” you defended. 

“Your fuckin’ loss.”

He opened the door, about to walk out. You weren’t done, though.

“Not your place. Not your cat,” you glared at him, your irritation simmering right below the surface. “Keep your ridiculous opinions to yourself.”

He stopped at that. “Now I’m not allowed to share my opinions?” He raised a brow. “You just love to be a tyrant. Let’s make a new rule,” he put a hand in the air like he was displaying his next words, the other one still holding tight to a guitar case. “‘You can’t have an opinion unless you’re y/n.’”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” You guffawed. You watched his fingers flex around the handle of his case. You moved to stand close enough to point a finger into his chest. “And, excuse me, sir, but you’re the ‘tyrant’ that leaves the dumbass, asshole sticky notes!” 

“Wait,” he put one arm out, holding the door ajar, angling his head to eye you over the top of his glasses. “Are you calling me a dumbass, asshole, and sir?”

You flushed at the insinuation you knew he was implying by highlighting the term ‘sir.’ You probably should’ve thought it through before calling him that. “No, just an asshole.”

“You said dumbass, too,” he pushed his glasses down his nose, just enough to get a good look over them at you. His eyes sparkled mischievously at you. “And I definitely remember you saying sir.”

His burgundy T-shirt had risen up when he’d put his hand on the door, showing a portion of his toned, tan stomach. You had to glimpse it, but you didn’t keep your eyes there for long. You got back to the topic at hand.

“You know what I meant. Quit it,” you leered at him, trying to ignore the way he was looking at you. “And quit leaving the damn sticky notes. I’m tired of it.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Another evening, you and Jake were both at home, and out of nowhere, he’d come out of his bedroom, and plopped onto the couch.

You’d already been there, reading a book, snuggled in a blanket with Stevie on your lap. “No practice?” you’d inquired, just barely looking up from the steamy page you were on in your romance novel.

He’d responded. “Hm mm,” and then asked, “Pizza?” 

And what should have been a calm conversation about ordering pizza actually ended in a full-blown argument about whether or not pineapple should go on pizza. 

Where the banter was usually a playful one between (normal) people, it ended with you seething on the couch over Jake’s stubbornness while he slammed the door to go grab the pizza.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When Jake came back, he begrudgingly asked you how many pieces you wanted.

You sassed your response back, and then he’d come into the living room carrying the pieces for you on a plate.

He’d sat down to eat with you, and you’d watched New Girl together.

It was odd how it felt so natural. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Wednesday night, you watched New Girl together for like the fifth time. Jake had only sat at the far end of the couch that first night with the hallway incident. Every time since, he’d kept edging closer. Him moving down the couch had been gradual, but the closer he got, the butterflies would uncontrollably buzz in your tummy. 

On Wednesday, he’d been the closest so far, sitting on the middle cushion. He was right next to you.

He was so close to you that if you leaned just a bit to the right, you could touch his shoulder with your own. He kept his hands to himself, though, crossing his legs at the knee and his arms at his chest. You could smell the wonderful scent of his sandalwood-scented cologne. It made your head dizzy in the best way. As of late, you’d learned that Jake smelled absolutely amazing. 

As Schmidt irrationally yelled at his roommates for getting on his last nerve, you heard Jake snicker at him, and then clear his throat. You looked over at him and instinctively turned down the TV a couple notches. 

He’d done it a few times while watching the show. You found that every time he cleared his throat, he was about to make a comment about an episode to (seemingly) try a bit of small talk. You were not used to the small talk. It made you feel all jittery when it happened.

You were expecting a comment about Schmidt when he surprised you by sucking in a breath through his teeth and saying, “Only a few days. I can’t believe it, honestly,” he started. “I don’t know if Josh told you, but the guy who owns the place we’re performing at this weekend owns a few more popular bars. And  he told us if he thinks we’re good, he’ll set us up with another place of his for next weekend,” you saw him shake his head and scratch lightly at his forehead with his thumb. 

It was a little strange to you that he was talking to you about his own show, rather than the television show, but you were glad about it. He might’ve had moments of being nothing more than an irritant in your life, but you really did enjoy talking to him. It made you get this rush that started from your ears, and moved all the way down to your belly button. And the gig, in particular, was something he was obviously anxious to talk to someone about. And he’d chosen to talk about it with you. He wanted you to know about this thing that was big for him.

You scooted into the corner of the couch, just enough to turn to look at him. You tucked your feet up under you. “That would be incredible, Jake,” you gushed, your spirits obviously high for him. 

You couldn’t help but notice how his cheeks blushed. He gave you a small nod and grin that noticeably stretched his cheeks, “This is such an exciting time for me,” he looked back at the TV. “I’ve waited my whole life for this.” 

His arms were still crossed like he was concealing so much more of himself. It was funny because he’d just let you in on something so personal. It was ironic. Though, you knew he did have so much more that was hiding, just beneath the surface.

“So much more is to come,” you encouraged. “I’m sure of it. I told Josh that, too.”

He glanced at you and nodded again. “I hope so. I’d be on cloud nine.” He tuned in and looked at the television and let out a particularly throaty laugh at something funny Jess’d said. Your stomach flip-flopped. 

You turned back to the TV, assuming your conversation was over with. But he surprised you again. 

“You coming this weekend?” He inquired, sounding more enthused than you’d anticipate. He cleared his throat. His next words were a little more nonchalant, like he didn’t want to let anything on. “You know, for Josh and the other guys?”

You felt a weight in your chest at the idea that he might think you weren’t going for him. Because as much as you wanted to deny it, seeing Jake perform was one of the things you were most looking forward to. 

Everything about him had been so mysterious up until that point, and seeing him do what he loved most would be a peek inside of the man you lived with.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you peeked over, seeing that he had been waiting for your response. 

He stuck his bottom lip out, shaking his head in approval. “Cool.”

Essentially, it ended at that. But it was special to you that he’d thought to share even a small piece of his heart with you. It was more than he’d ever let you in on before.

You realized that the more you hung out with him, the more you were starting to let the animosity you felt for him fade.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was a record player night of yours on Thursday of that week. You were playing The Beatles’ White Album limited edition re-release you’d gotten in that week at the Black and Gold. You had indulged yourself in getting it, The Beatles being your favorite band of all time. 

You were taking the time to clean up around the house when Jake had come through the living room, grabbing a notepad off the counter. He’d actually stopped on the way back to his room. You frowned, trying to decipher what he was doing. He was scribbling something into his notebook, stopping to think here and there.

You gave him a questioning look. “Lyrics?” 

He brought his Amber-brown eyes up to yours, coming out of his sort of daze. “Oh, uh, no,” he replied, tucking the small pad into the pocket of his jeans. “Setlist for Saturday. Josh asked me to work on it.”

You hummed and went about dusting the living room, as you had been doing previously. 

He kept walking to his room, but stopped once more to comment on how he liked The Beatles. 

“Especially Abbey Road. But this album’s fantastic, too,” your ears tuned in to the possible bonding moment. You were about to add in your own little thing about Lennon and McCartney, when he ruined it. “The Stones are still better, though. Far superior.” 

You felt heat prickle behind your ears and your head get fuzzy, the way your body would react every time you’d get defensive of something you love. The Beatles were your greatest musical love, besides Stevie Wonder. And he’d essentially also criticized your love of Stevie Wonder earlier that week, so you were done with his bullshit. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jacob,” you turned your back to him, going about your cleaning. 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. I’m not allowed to speak my mind.”

You faced him sharply at that, and he raised a brow at your reaction, a smirk making the dimple in his cheek appear. He was testing you. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you retorted.

“Oh, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” he started walking towards you, and you stood your ground, waiting for what he’d do next. “You don’t like to hear what anyone else might have to say,” he stopped, a couple feet away from you, sitting on the arm of the couch. “You just like to hear the sound of your own voice.”

You sneered at him. Your heart was beating so quickly. “Get off the arm of the couch.”

He made no move to leave his spot. He crossed his arms and squinted at you. Then, he challenged with an, “Or what?”

You walked up to him. You were so close to him, his proximity was making you feel anxious. You were impressed by the sternness you heard in your own voice. “Just. Move.”

He set his head back, and raised both of his thick brows at you. The smirk still hadn’t left his face. You didn’t want to acknowledge the desire to both simultaneously slap and kiss the look off of his handsome face. 

He scoffed and moved off the arm. You thought you were about to be rid of him when he went ahead and sat on the cushion at the end closest to the arm he’d been sitting on. 

“What are you doing?” Why was he so intent on playing with you? 

“I’m sitting here while I wait for you to finish,” he waved a hand around, showing that he’d noticed what you’d been doing before. “Then we can watch our show.”

Our show. Your head buzzed at him calling it that while your stomach somersaulted. 

“I don’t—,” you reached a hand up to your forehead and rubbed the crinkle out from between your brows. “Don’t you have a setlist to finish?”

He lifted his ass a bit, and you watched the way the dark denim of his jeans stretched just right across his hips at the action. He reached into his back pocket, flipping the small notebook to the page he’d been on. He clicked his pen open. “I can do it while I wait.”

You glared at him, your heart still beating fiercely in your chest. 

Try as you might, even with as livid as he was making you feel in the moment, you really did enjoy the nights of watching the show together. You (very) secretly liked the way he was wanting to spend that time with you.  

You blew a frustrated breath out of your nose and growled when you turned around to finish cleaning. 

Damn him.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You shook awake at the feeling of Stevie pawing at your blanket. It was dark all around you, but the television was awake in front of you, the bright light glaring in the blackness of the room as Schmidt went on about CeCe being a model. 

Still halfway asleep, you reached down to bring the blanket that was around you closer to your chin. 

One of your brows wrinkled at the feeling of the blanket. You hadn’t put a blanket on. You softly reached a hand to feel at the material. It was the one you always kept on the back of the couch. 

Then, you finally came to the realization that there was a warm body underneath your sleep-laden body. In fact, your head was currently nestled against the softness of a cotton t-shirt.

You blinked your eyes open huge, but didn’t move right at first. You smelled the cologne on Jake’s shirt, and felt the rising and falling of his stomach. Dammit, he was so warm, and the position felt so. . .right?

Though, you couldn’t let yourself get trapped in that moment. Especially when you felt a hand come to rest on your waist. It felt too natural for it to be okay. 

Initially, you were going to try to be as sly as possible, as not to wake him. But it seemed your plan didn’t matter when you felt him slide the hand he’d put on you over the contours of your side.

He was awake. 

You noticed how he kept his hand resting at the spot on your waist even after he’d rubbed it over you. He smoothed his thumb (calloused, as you knew it would be) ever-so-gently over the exposed skin of your waist. Your heart thrummed.

“You awake?” He asked, his own voice raspy from sleep. Your skin prickled at the timbre of his tone. 

The darkness of the room hid your blush, but you worried that the contrasting brightness from the television would reveal it too soon. 

You shot up, trying not to care when his hand fell from your waist. You pushed the blanket off of you, and Stevie hopped off the couch in a frenzy. You knew she was about to get the zoomies from how fast you’d moved from your position. 

Standing up was slightly hard to do on legs that were still heavy from just having been in a deep sleep. But you gained your footing enough to turn and start folding the blanket where it went on the couch. You caught a glimpse of Jake rising from his spot on the couch, following your actions. He straightened some of the pillows that always nestled in the center of the couch.

After he did so, you noticed he was still standing next to the edge of the sofa. You went about turning the TV off and checking the door that you already knew was locked. 

You were trying to do anything to avoid contact with him. The wax burner that lit up on the kitchen bar was the only thing helping you know where you were, as to not accidentally bump into him. 

You were so much more nervous around him, feeling dumb for being in that situation. There really was no reason to be embarrassed as he had been right there in that moment with you, too. 

But how you’d situated yourself to sleep on him. . .you didn’t know how that had happened specifically. That was what made your skin prickle with worry for exposing any secret part of yourself. 

All you knew was it couldn’t happen again. 

There were certain things you absolutely couldn’t do with Jake. You didn’t want to cross the imaginary line you’d created. He needed to be focused on himself, and you needed to focus on yourself. 

Remaining only roommates seemed the only option in your head. It was safe. It was necessary for you both. 

“Y/n,” you felt Jake come up to your side and touch a hand to your arm. You stepped away as if you’d been burned, putting a few healthy feet between the two of you. “You okay?”

You shoved past him, heading to the kitchen counter to mindlessly straighten the key bowl for no reason. Afterwards, you went to grab a water bottle from the fridge, then continued to your room. Creating plenty of space between you was all you could think to do. 

Once you got to your door, you didn’t even turn to see him before you said, “Goodnight, Jake.” 

-🌼🌼🌼-

And, as fate would have it, the next morning, you woke up with your skin sticky with sweat. Jake had made yet another appearance in your subconscious. 

You sighed to yourself, getting the vibrator you’d ordered a week ago, out of your bedside drawer. 

You had barely admitted to yourself that you’d purchased it. You’d never in your life felt the need to use one. Your hand had always worked. 

But not with your Jake fantasies. No, you had to be relieved from this man in a much more vigorous way than just using a hand.

The way he interacted with your body in your dreams—it practically demanded the intensity of a toy. Your hand simply couldn’t do the trick. 

It should have irritated you that the nightly fantasies had become so frequent. But you found yourself more disappointed to wake up without having one, if you were being honest. 

You added some lube from your drawer’s stash to the end of it, placed it comfortably between your legs and flicked on the little buzzing device to a low speed.

You gradually let it run through your folds, just getting the feel to begin. But your clit hadn’t stopped throbbing from how Jake had been acting in your dream. 

In your sleep, he’d appeared above you, with his cock already pumping into you. The version of you in your dream had welcomed the sensation, it had felt familiar to you in that reality. Though, it had been the first time you’d ever felt dream-Jake have sex with you. So it was strange that it felt like a normal occurrence. . .but you didn’t even give that part a second thought. 

All you knew was it’d felt just about as good as dream sex could. You knew there was something missing that you could only get in real life, though. But, you had still reveled in how natural it felt for him to slide in and out, in and out. 

So now, in the present day, you realized just how ready you were for your release, as your dream-self hadn’t been able to reach that point of completion. You’d just been taking what he would give you, enjoying every minute and movement. 

There was even a sort of pattern he’d kept for the duration of the dream that’d felt delicious. He had kept edging and teasing you (and himself, honestly) to the point of near insanity. He’d pump his cock into you, and then slowly drag it back out. He’d even nudged at your aching bud with the head of it a few times, for good measure. 

Neither of you had finished. You now cursed at that version of him for being so desperate to edge you on. But man, had it ignited a fire in you. 

Your hips lifted off the bed as the buzzing hummed from its place, all the way up to your most aching area. You jostled a little at the feeling of it affecting you from its position, still far enough away that it shouldn’t have had an impact on your clit whatsoever. 

You couldn’t handle any more of the teasing, so you dragged it up until it sat at the side of your hardened nub. You closed your eyes at the sensation it brought, your whole body flaring with the itch that was about to be satisfied. You could feel it everywhere. You felt your clit flutter relentlessly, and you couldn’t help it when you whined, “Jake.” 

You instantly pulled the device away, pressing the button to turn it off.  

You caught your bearings the best you could, and internally scolded yourself. You had been trying so hard not to say his name after the first time. You still didn’t know if he’d heard you, but you’d assumed he totally had. The walls didn’t hold enough weight to keep your secrets. And he’d been way too cryptic when he’d left that day.

Your body continued to pulse below, reminding you that you hadn’t let yourself reach that point. You put the small machine back where it had been, and bit your lip as it buzzed back to life. You wanted to finish, but you couldn’t make a sound. 

You even took a chance and set the frequency a touch higher. 

Your eyes rolled back. You rubbed the head of it back through the wetness that had gathered at your folds. And then brought it back to the bud that cried for its attention. 

You pressed the machine right at the underside of your most delicate part, and flicked the setting up one more time. 

And within seconds, your hips shot off the bed, your toes dug into the covers, curling so tight as every nerve-ending came to life. 

Your eyes rolled all the way back in your head and you couldn’t help it when you shut your eyes to envision him. 

You had to see him, and if you let your lids close, you could see him above you, so sweaty. In your mind, his stomach was touching yours, the stickiness of sweat from his exertion making you feel one with him as your belly was just as damp. 

He looked down at you, his eyes holding an emotion you hadn’t seen from him yet in ‘real life.’ You could have cried at the relief the gaze of his brown eyes brought you. 

You felt your body starting to become overstimulated, and your heart was beating so fast. You had to open your eyes. 

You brought the vibrator away from yourself and pressed the button to turn it off, tucking it securely in the bedside drawer. 

The itch could be satisfied by a vibrator, yes, but you couldn’t help it when you imagined just how exhilarating it would feel if the dreams ever became reality. 

But you wouldn’t let yourself think that way for too long. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you finished putting some new underwear on, and a pair of sweats with your big T-shirt, you ventured out into the hallway.  

You went to go brush your teeth and get ready for a morning run, hoping a sense of your old life would bring some normalcy to the rest of your day. 

Though, as soon as you exited your room, you stopped before you turned for the bathroom to see Jake in the kitchen. He wasn’t doing anything special. Just cooking some eggs—hopefully his, you thought snidely. 

You needed to avoid him after your little venture with dream-him in your bed. You told yourself that was mostly why you were hiding as you looked on from the passageway to the kitchen from the hallway. 

You didn’t know why you stood there and stared aside from the fact that Jake was incredibly easy to look at—easy to observe. You admittedly could take a few moments to look over the man who’d been your New Girl-watching partner for the past week. 

He was now preparing a cup of coffee. His chestnut waves caught gleams of light from the early morning sun, showing you some hidden colors in his hair. His light caramel-colored skin shone in the sun streams. 

You hid yourself a little more in the shadows when he turned just slightly. And when you could see his eyes, you noticed they became a sparkling, golden brown when he looked out the window to survey the city. 

Your angle was now perfect to see everything. You even saw beneath the open lapels of the purple button-down he was wearing, you could see his chest, rising and falling. You didn’t know how Jake’s pecs were so perfectly toned, but you’d taken note that there was almost always a necklace or two laying between them just right. 

And, then there were the black jeans he was wearing. And hot damn, if his round ass didn’t sit so well in the back of them. 

As Jake turned to get in the fridge, you made a silent escape to brush your teeth and officially start your day. You’d put that moment of surveying in the back of your mind where it belonged.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The bell rang on the door as you continued stocking the new shipment of vinyls for the B&G. You’d just passed the J’s, stocking a Janis Joplin record when you heard the slightest shuffle behind you. 

You turned around to see if it was a customer that needed help, only to find a man looking through the sale bins. You suddenly noticed that you’d definitely need to make a new “Last Chance!” sign to hang from the wooden crates. The old one was looking particularly grimy.

You mentally added that to a list in your brain.

You turned back to the shipment. You moved onto the K’s. As you moved, you checked out the Featured wall. You really did love the Featured Vinyl wall. 

And, as you looked over it, you saw the re-release Wheels of Fire vinyl you’d gotten in that day. Josh had taken it upon himself to use the ladder to hang all of the featured vinyl earlier in the day. You always enjoyed seeing what he chose to feature. It was his thing.   He’d left shortly after setting it up for some midday errands to prepare for the weekend’s impending event. 

Your eyes stayed on the record, and you hated that you thought of Jake the second you saw Josh hang it earlier. And you continued to be irritated by who it made you think of most. You did not need to be thinking about him so much. 

You shook your head as if to rid yourself of the thoughts that were seeming to overtake you more often than not these days. You just wanted peace. And you’d essentially had none since the day Jake had moved in. 

“Excuse me.” 

You felt a slight shift against your hip and moved over to the side, not even looking over to the person. You assumed it was the guy who had been rifling through the sale bin. You moved over, giving him space to peruse. 

“No worries, man,” you said.

Though, you now heard him clear his throat. You looked to him, assuming he needed help. 

When you looked up, you were met with a slightly smarmy close-mouthed grin. It would make you recoil and avoid the person at all costs in a normal situation, but you couldn’t do that since you were at work. 

You slapped on a shit-eating-customer service-grin. 

“May I help you?” 

He cleared his throat again, and then he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well. I just wanted to ask you a question.” 

You raised your eyebrow, as if to say: And that is? 

He teetered forward on his feet, bringing you both in closer proximity to each other. You would’ve backed away, if you hadn’t suddenly come back to back with the R&B bins when you had turned to talk to him. The old wood of the bins creaked as you wedged in as close as you could to them. 

You kept your eyebrow raised in question, not letting your guard down.

“I’ve been coming here for a long time,” he said. “And when you started working here a few years back, I just had to start coming in more to see your pretty face.”

You felt your stomach churn. You didn’t like this. Though, you did notice him as a regular you’d come across on more than one occasion. He was near your age, but he made you feel completely unsafe. From the way he was looking at you, you didn’t have the best inkling about this conversation. The way this man leaned in, not respecting your apparent want for personal space—it was gross.

But, you weren’t afraid to shoot a guy down. You’d done it multiple times before. 

“Listen, dude, I—,” you began. 

He only stepped closer, cutting you off. You felt closed in. And, you tried not to let it show, but you kind of felt your edge fall. This was getting to be too much. 

“I-I-I’ve been working up the nerve to tell you that,” he continued. “For a long time. But you’re always in here with that cotton ball head.”

You felt personally offended on Josh’s behalf. Cotton ball head? 

And, of course this fucker would advance on you when Josh was gone to run an errand. Had he been watching for the moment Josh left? He had to have been. Hm. That wasn’t unnerving at all.

“Well, I appreciate your honesty and plainness, but I have to—.”

“Please, just let me take you out once?” 

As if to test the space, he stepped once more into you, cramming you into the crates uncomfortably. His hands gripped the wooden bins you could feel making dents in your back. His arms were effectively trapping you in. It all caused you to stumble back on the heels of your white boots. Thanks to the short skirt you’d decided to wear that day, you could feel the denim of his acid wash jeans against your exposed thighs.

Well. 

This man was turning out to be more difficult than you’d initially anticipated. You kept your eyes steady on the tie-dye print of his Sublime band tee. You didn’t want to look into his bloodshot, bug eyes again.

“Look, I’m really very sorry, but I can’t—.”

“Just one date.” He was starting to sound more stern, more threatening than you liked at all. 

You hadn’t heard the bell above the door ding the presence of someone new in the distance. All you could hear were the muffled sounds of your music in the background. It felt as if each of your ears was stuffed full of cotton. 

Your stomach churned in on itself again. You knew it was the result of the building anxiousness and alarm in this instance. It intensified when a pale hand lifted to touch your arm. Your skin was crawling. But, before it could touch you, it was harshly slapped away. The man’s arms both fell from around you.

Thank God. Josh was back.  

“You don’t touch her.” 

That wasn’t Josh’s voice. 

You looked to your left to see Jake. 

He was wearing a pair of sunglasses. The skin on his face and exposed chest was a warm glow of light brown. Within these small details of him, you’d recently come to find a sense of comfort. And every beautiful detail of him seemed to be on full display for you to admire. 

He had situated himself to be right next to you. He was ready to help you in any way you may need.

You tried to deny it, but in this situation all you felt was peace in the fact that he was here. 

Under normal circumstances, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at him for interrupting something you were doing.

Though, in this situation, your growing understanding of Jake, combined with your natural human reaction to feeling protected in a scary situation — it made you want to fall into his arms and not let go.

You felt yourself gravitate towards him. Your shoulder came to touch his exposed chest. It sent a sweet shiver down your spine to be close to him. You could feel the cool metal of a couple of his necklaces on your bare bicep. 

It felt incredibly safe.

The customer was slightly taller than Jake, but you’d learned that Jake naturally gave off big dick energy. There was no other way to explain how Jake carried himself with such confidence. 

And, as you were witnessing at that moment, he apparently knew how to be very intimidating when he needed to be, too. 

That was one more thing you could add to the growing mental list of differences between him and his twin. The mysterious darkness that consistently loomed over Jake could help him be daunting and mysterious when he needed to be. Whereas, Josh’s sunshine-y, peaceful, and open-hearted nature just wouldn’t dare allow him that ability. 

“Listen, man, I was just asking—,” the man attempted.

“I don’t give a shit what you were asking her. You aren’t asking anything anymore.”

You felt a heat rise in you at his authoritarian attitude. It was hot as hell. 

The guy’s chest puffed. He seemed equal parts scared and indignant. The creepy guy wasn’t so creepy anymore as his bug eyes grew at Jake’s naturally intense presence. 

Because, the more you looked at him, you noticed the indignance seemed to be a mask for his fear. The guy had a slight shake in his lanky shoulders. 

You felt a warm arm that smelled like Jake pull your body further into his chest, away from the man in the Sublime shirt. Your golden sunflower necklace was now touching his own necklaces as your exposed cleavage touched the warm skin of his chest. His arm was still around you. You could make a cocoon in that place. 

Jake’s voice was stern with his next words. You felt them vibrate from his chest into yours, and into your ear nearest him.

“Get your fucking ass out of here,” Jake released himself from around you, and you instantly missed the closeness. Though, he used the new position to put an arm behind, shielding you from the man as he stepped between you and the tie-dye-guy, pointing a finger in the man’s face. “I don’t want to hear her ever speak of seeing you again. And she will let me know if she sees your sorry ass in here again. I can guarantee it because she sees me day in, and day-fucking-out. It’s a perk to living with a person. Don’t let it happen. I better not hear her say a damn thing about your ass.”

The guy held both hands up, as if to defend himself. He tried to maintain confidence, but his eyes held uncaged fear. 

Jake brought himself back around you, his arm around your waist this time. You didn’t know what had overtaken him to act so protective of you, but you weren’t upset over it at all.

You completely welcomed it. 

As your heated chest touched Jake’s own, you didn’t dare look to your rescuer. 

You distracted yourself by watching the man flee through the store. This store that had become your safe place for the past couple of years. You decided in that moment that you wouldn’t let some stranger take that safe feeling of the store from you. 

As soon as the green tie-dye shirt was no longer in sight, your senses came back to you. And rather than recoil from Jake, you only sunk further into him. You liked the safety. You softly put your head on his shoulder and you felt his hand come up to massage your neck as your head laid there. You saw stars at the sensation of his practiced hand. You briefly wondered what else the hand could do. 

Suddenly, the realness of your proximity to Jake was taking over. The warmth of your chests together became unbearable. You quickly stepped back from him, making a decent space between the two of you. 

You wanted to give him the biggest hug of thanks. You wanted to continue to wrap your arms around him until you felt like you were a part of him. He’d made you feel so secure. Hell, you wanted to give him a kiss of gratitude for stepping in when he did.

But you didn’t do any of that. 

Instead, you did your thing and pushed down any and all emotion you could possibly feel about Jake Kiszka. You remembered your annoyingly persistent looming thoughts of him from the past couple months and pushed them all away. You pushed those thoughts way down to the bottoms of your feet. 

He was still Jake. He was an asshole eighty percent of the time.  This situation and the few others as of late wouldn’t change that fact. 

And you wouldn’t dare allow any true emotion of yours to show in front of him. 

You brushed down your green floral skirt. You ran a finger at the hem of it as it touched your thigh, trying something else to gain a new sense of peace. It scarcely compared to how Jake had made you feel.

You couldn’t meet his eyes. You could feel him watching you. Your heart beat would not slow. 

You chose to look at his hair. You watched as he brushed a hand through his long waves. You noticed it still looked wet from a shower. 

You started thinking of him running his fingers through it to wash it. The soapy suds covering his fingers. The water trickling down his back and over his ass. The water that then traveled down his legs to pool at the bottom of the shower that you two shared. The same shower that he would wash his beautiful hair and body in… the same one you also stood in to wash yourself—. The thought got you all worked up for unexplainable reasons.

Stop thinking of Jake in the shower, y/n. Stop thinking of the fact that you share a shower. Stop it.

He pushed his sunglasses up, pushing his hair back with them. 

You didn’t want to talk about how your eyes trailed to his bare chest of their own accord, noticing his silky purple button-up that he’d rolled almost to his elbows. You noticed a couple pronounced veins in his arms, as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He wasn’t tall, but you had this feeling he was stronger than he let on. 

And dear God, you did not let that thought wander.

When you finally flicked your eyes up to his, you felt your body flush even more with the concerned look that painted his features. He was watching you carefully, his eyebrows turned in as he observed you.

Though, you wouldn’t let yourself give in to any emotion you were tempted to show. You stood straighter, and when you spoke, your tone was much sharper than you wanted it to be.

“I could have handled that on my own.”

His eyebrows reflexed and shot up. He put on a new demeanor and scoffed. “Oh. Yeah?”

You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear that had fallen from your hair clip. “Fuck you, Jake. You know I could have,” you shook your head. “I didn’t need your help.”

He shook his head, seemingly in an act of disbelief for your words.

“You are so fucking impossible,” he said. “You can’t even say thank you when someone helps you out.”

He had a point. You could have said thank you. It was the least you could do to be polite. But, no. No emotions. Ridiculously, a thank you seemed too personal. 

And yes, you really did realize how juvenile that sounded when you thought it.

“Telling you ‘thank you’ would feel oxymoronic,” you stated, putting down the air quotes your hands had made for words ‘thank you’. “With all of the other shit you’ve done since you oh-so-gracefully entered my life? Yeah, I’m not going to tell you thank you for one act of heroism that didn’t even need to happen.”

He seemed genuinely amazed, with both brows raised high. You chose to not think of how your words might’ve stung.

He stared at you for a minute longer, an emotion was sitting in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. 

“Tell Josh I left the line-up for Saturday on the counter,” he’d quickly, shortly stated the words in a way that was unfamiliar from past quarrels. He sounded. . .hurt?

And before you could say another word, his form was storming out of the store. The bell rung for the fourth time that day. Though, this time, the chime made you flinch. 

Had that seriously been hurt you’d seen in his eyes and heard in his tone? How did he even have the right to feel hurt by you?

The growl that escaped your mouth was definitely immature. But, he was the impossible one. You huffed and turned on your heel back to the vinyls you’d been so rudely cut off from stocking.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Y/n,” Josh called to you from the counter. 

You sighed exasperatedly as you responded, “Yes, Joshua?” 

You wished you were simply being dramatic with the sigh you’d loudly released. But, your back hurt from being on your feet, stretching over bins all day. And, you were still feeling icky about the situation concerning the Sublime, tie-dyed regular from earlier.

And then there was Jake—who hadn’t seemed to leave your thoughts from the moment he’d walked out earlier in the day. 

You turned to Josh after you placed a Minnie Riperton record securely in its spot. 

You swiftly kicked the last empty cardboard box from the shipment up towards the front of the store. 

Josh knelt down to grab it as it seemed to slide right into his awaiting hand. 

He’d returned from his errand about an hour ago. The sun had been setting when he’d returned. You were borderline salty with him for being gone so long. But, you knew you were more happy for him than anything. He was finally seeming to go through the motions of making this passion of his and Jake’s a reality. 

As you walked towards the counter, you noticed he was pointing at something with a stupidly smug grin on his face. Your eyebrows crinkled as your eyes met what he was pointing at. You suddenly saw a small, potted, lavender plant sitting atop the counter. 

That was new. 

You rounded the opposite side of the counter from Josh. He was flattening the final box you’d sent his way, giving you an eye. You had seen the look he was giving before. It was the one that always seemed to say ‘I told you so.’

As you got behind the counter, you could feel his eyes burning into your skull. 

You hesitantly inspected the plant at first, but then saw the note that was tucked underneath it. 

Just thought this would look nice in our apartment :)

-Jake

Your heart leapt into your throat. It sat uncomfortably there for a moment too long. Guilt seemed to erupt in your chest as your heart plummeted back into it. The smiley face at the end set the guilt in even deeper.

The bell hadn’t dinged since Jake had aggressively pushed the door open to leave in his haste earlier. The store had been empty since, save for yourself and the soul music that had floated through the speakers all day. 

He had brought this little plant with him earlier. And you’d effectively chewed him out for no reason whatsoever.

Well, not for no reason, you reassured yourself. There was reason. There were reasons aplenty.

But, he could have at least gotten a thank you. And you hadn’t even tried to offer him that. 

Jake’s normally aggravating behavior was undoubtedly outweighed by your own unfair behavior today. 

He’d defended your honor and brought you a plant out of the blue. 

And you’d all but dismissed him.

Your stomach fluttered a little at that. He had defended you and thought about you upon seeing a lavender plant. The same plant you’d been wanting in the apartment. And he hadn’t just thought of you when he saw it, but he’d thought to bring it to you as a gift. 

And you hadn’t even given him a chance.

Not a thank you. For anything.

Well, shit.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you waved goodbye to Josh from the driver’s seat in your car after work, you jetted off to your apartment. 

You were ready to get home and talk to Jake about how sorry you felt. You wanted to set things straight and maybe help him in enforcing this sort-of peace offering. There wasn’t one part of you that wanted to constantly be at odds with him. Being friends with him would be great. You couldn’t help it that you possibly wanted more, but you didn’t want to cross a boundary. 

It just seemed that he was ready to make this new adjustment to your relationship by being friendly, and you were ready to put your pride down for it. 

You also wanted to offer a thank you for the gift of the plant that you’d placed securely in the cup holder of your Jetta.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

You’d barely even graced the threshold of your entryway when you noticed him. 

Except, it was not at all a sight you wanted to see when you got home. 

Jake was blatantly breaking a rule. 

What was happening in front of you was the last thing you wanted to see, honestly. 

You couldn’t take your eyes away from him as he laid on top of a girl in your living room. On the couch you’d just fallen asleep on with him the night before. 

You were mad that he broke a rule, yes, but that was not the first thought that entered your mind. 

You were shocked by the sudden burning feeling of jealousy. Your chest was tight. Why were you jealous? You couldn’t stand this man. Yes, he’d appeared in a few of your dreams because he was sexy as hell. You virtually had no romantic feelings for him. . . Right? 

So why were you so obviously envious of this random girl that was lying on your couch with a man you had only grown to despise? 

The disheveled look of his hair made your stomach roll in a way you wished it didn’t. 

His shirt was completely open, his entire chest showing, heaving. And the same necklace that had pressed to your own earlier that day was now dangling between his chest and the woman below him. She actually went to grab it as you watched, pulling him closer to her.

Your left hand gripped so tightly to the potted lavender, it was almost enough to crack the terra-cotta. 

The woman was strikingly beautiful. . . and suddenly every insecurity you’d ever felt about yourself came into your head. You didn’t look a thing like this woman. 

This woman looked like a model, a certified bombshell. Her eyelids naturally drooped, the pupils of her big, blue eyes, blown wide, and her already-big lips were completely swollen. 

You wanted to vomit. You wanted to cry. You felt tears burning the brim of your eyes. 

You weren’t even sorry when your tone sounded so overtly snarky. Though, what you weren’t prepared for was the sound of tears in your throat, “Unbelievable.” 

You caught his eyes and the look you shared held so much weight. But why? Why was this suddenly tense for more reasons than just irritation that he was disrespecting the rules?

Why was the look in his eyes making your heart flutter? 

Had your appreciation for him grown past simply admiring the way he looked? Grown past the dreams that you thought had only been about the fucking? They’d been nothing more than that. Ugh. . . Right?!

The tears started making your eyelids feel heavy and you raced to her bedroom before you could chance him looking any deeper into your eyes. 

You didn’t want him to see you like this— possibly know the wave of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t even begin to understand. 

You didn’t have a clue where to begin with what you were feeling. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

For about 20 minutes, you glared at the plant that now sat on your dresser. You had reverted to anger, you refused to let any tears fall. 

You didn’t want to think any more about anything. You decided maybe just going to bed was the best option. 

Trading your work clothes for sweats and a ratty cropped t-shirt, you observed your bum-like appearance. But, you couldn’t care less what you looked like. All worries were getting pushed down for the evening.

When you went to open the door to brush your teeth, there was a knock on the other side of it. You blinked at the sound, but your hand stayed on the knob. You knew who it probably was on the other side. And you didn’t want to mess with him. 

Jake’s voice could be heard through the wood of the door, your assumption confirmed. “Y/n, you okay?” He asked it so delicately. It caught you off guard.

You only scoffed under your breath, not wanting to mess with his bullshit. His words didn’t need to be acknowledged with a response. He asked you again, and you still didn’t say a word. 

Standing there and ignoring him until he was gone seemed to be the best decision. He’d leave eventually.

You heard him sigh. He persisted,  “I just want to talk to you.” 

Glaring at where you imagined him to be  behind the door, all you responded with was: “No.” 

Jake sighed again, and his tone was still soft with his next question. “Why?” 

You removed your hand from the knob, and put your back against the door. You crossed your arms in defiance to him. “Fuck, Jake. I just don’t want to talk to you.” Your tear ducts welled with silent tears, much too close to falling. You couldn’t get the image from earlier out of your mind; you didn’t want to be talking to him about anything right now. Hearing his voice just made your throat feel tight. “Is that so hard to understand?!”

“What did I even do?” He uttered it so quietly, you barely heard it, muffled through the door. You were taken aback that he sounded a little sad when he said it. 

But you weren’t having it, not pitying him in the slightest. You didn’t believe this whole performance he was putting on: one where he could possibly care. He’d proven today that he could change his course of action pretty damn quickly if he wanted. 

All in the matter of a few hours, Jake had taken measures to soften your heart to him. Bringing the plant and helping you combat the predatory man had been great for you. You thought now that you could have finally been seeing him for the man he truly was. 

But then he’d been the one to harden it to stone all over again. He had totally sidetracked and betrayed you by having a woman on your sofa. 

Well, he hadn’t really betrayed you, per se, but the rules which you’d created. But it’d felt so much more personal. You were sure what you’d been feeling had been envy and resentfulness towards that woman on your couch.

But it wasn’t even her fault, it was your damned roommate’s. 

“Is she gone?” 

“She’s gone,” he replied.

You turned on your heel, and yanked the door open to face him. 

He had been much nearer than you were expecting. When you exited the bedroom, you were so close, you were almost touching him. 

You spared no time.

“For starters, I saw you breaking a big ass rule, Jake. You had a girl laid on her back with your tongue in her mouth. . .in the living room!” You placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. You took your hand away just as soon, hating how warm and velvety his bare chest felt to touch. Thanks to the woman from earlier, there were even more buttons undone than usual. “That’s not the type of shit I wanna walk in and see after a long ass day like today.”

He moved for you, not fighting it. He cast his eyes down, looking sincere when he muttered, “I’m sorry. I get that it wasn’t okay.” 

You hated how he seemed so calm and cool. It was crazy how he was putting on an act to make you think he was actually sorry. You didn’t believe his sentiment for a second. “Cut the act, Jake. Don’t be one way out there,” you motioned in the direction of the living room. “And then a completely different way right here.”

But all he did was stand there and apologize again. And this time? He had the audacity to look you in the eyes when he said sorry.

Your heart was racing. You couldn’t believe how well he could put this on. “Don’t apologize when you don’t mean it.”

“You don’t get to tell me whether or not I mean something I’m saying, y/n,” he corrected.

Your cheeks burnt at his tone, “I’m not trying to tell you if you —.” 

“You literally just told me I didn’t mean my apology,” he closed his eyes briefly and ran a hand through his hair. The Amber-brown of his irises was steely when they opened, holding yours when he snapped, “You’re not allowed to tell me what I mean and what I don’t.”

“Well, I’m confused, Jake. I just don’t get it,” you snapped right back.

“Get what exactly? How I could maybe, actually be a decent human being? It’s like you’ve made up your fuckin’ mind that I’m a terrible person.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, and grinned at him sarcastically. It honestly astounded you that he could be so dense. 

“First of all, I’d be entitled to think you’re an asshole with the shit you’ve said, the way you’ve acted. You’ve been inconsiderate from day one,” you held up a finger to show the number and then used it to jab into his chest. “And you just love to break every rule possible with women. I can’t even begin to process,” you ran both hands through your hair, and closed your eyelids to stabilize yourself. “But you also bring me a fucking plant to work? What in the hell was that anyway?” 

“I heard you and Josh talking about it, and thought it was the least I could do for being such an ass,” he sighed. “I know I haven’t been myself, but I’ve just been—.”

“Don’t just spout shit off,” you should have let him finish. You’d been waiting on him to open up for a while, but you weren’t in the mood right now. It took a second for the other piece of his response to sink in. “And I knew you were eavesdropping on that conversation!” 

He grit his teeth. “I wasn’t fucking eavesdropping,” he rubbed the back of his thumb against his forehead. His chest was heaving. “Don’t make me sound like a creep. I just used what I’d overheard to do something nice for you, and you can’t even appreciate it.” 

“Quite frankly, I did appreciate it, but I came home to— you know what? Nevermind,” you went to turn back into your room. “I’m going to bed. I’ll wait to—.”

“No.” 

You stopped in your tracks and faced him yet again. “No?” You were fuming. You were so tired of this. “So now you’re telling me what to do?”

“All I want is for you to say what you’re thinking,” he leveled, seeming just as vexed as you.

You shook your head and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, “I don’t want to.” You were being stubborn, you knew that. 

“This is what I meant earlier. You’re fucking impossible. I don’t understand how the hell you can get your panties in such a wad over literally nothing. Things like post-it notes and me slightly breaking these fuckin’ rules,” he groaned frustratedly. “It’s like your only emotion is this annoyance—this irritation directed only towards me. You barely show any other emotion. I can’t keep up with you only ever being angry at me,” the muscle in his jaw clenched. “God. Impossible is the only word for it.”

“My only emotion?! That’s just peachy, Jake. You’re the one who— it’s the fact that you have always— no! I’m not talking to you about this,” you barely turned when he grabbed your arm lightly in his grasp, stopping you as you were about to walk away. 

“Yes you are. Just tell me what’s going on in your head. Please,” he practically begged. “Give me some insight, dammit.”

Why was he so desperate to know? He was just insisting on you opening up so he could continue to push your buttons, you were sure of it. 

“Quit acting like you wanna know so badly.” 

“I brought you a fucking plant today, y/n. And I  got that dickhead to lay off of you. I was fuckin’ seething when I saw him cornering you,” he was still holding your arm, and at this point, you didn’t want to move it. Your heart fluttered at his words. Seething? “Obviously I care about you and what you’re thinking. Tonight was stupid, but it was just a little rule that got broken,” his palm was warm, and his thumb was making little shapes on your skin. 

You couldn’t argue all of his points, so you settled on the thing that started all of this. You replied, your voice quiet, “It’s not just a rule.” 

“Then what is it?” He inquired, so gently.

You were completely overheated, heart hammering so hard you could hear every beat washing through your ears. This was too much. You didn’t want to let him in. 

So, you yanked your arm out of his grasp, trying to escape the impending admission you didn’t want to say out loud. Then, you tried to make it inside your bedroom, away from Jake. Being around him was making your heart pound. You couldn’t trust it. 

You did make it to your room. But, just as you were about to shut your door, Jake placed his hand inside of it so you couldn't. He held it open, his arm above you was not doing anything good for your senses. You liked the feeling of him being all around you, but you felt like you needed to hate it. You didn’t know what to feel.  “It’s nothing, Jake. Shit. Go to bed.”

“Y/n.” 

“It’s just—I’m tired of there being all of these women in my apartment. In my old bedroom. You know your bedroom? Yeah, used to be mine,” you were starting to ramble, so you got back on track. “Um, on my couch. The same couch we’ve sat on to watch our show together almost every night this week,” you put both hands over your eyes, leaving them there with what you said next. “I just can’t stand seeing you with other women, and I hate the possibility of hearing you with other women . . . in my home, no less.” 

You’d said what you were thinking, your words had just rolled off of your tongue. You were absolutely biting the bullet by saying any of that. You didn’t know what possessed you to say those things. 

You really didn’t want him to know any of that. . . .Or did you?

He stood there, his arm still above you, his exposed chest was so close. He was so close. His wonderful cologne seeped into your senses. 

You didn’t break eye contact, even after he pondered, “What are you trying to say?” 

“I don’t fucking know. Nothing. Ignore it, Jacob.”

You tried to push the door closed, but he kept a firm hand on the inside of it, not letting it close just yet. Your skin prickled, but you took that moment to let yourself admire his deep, brown irises that hadn’t looked away from you during your confession. You loved the way the sharpness of his jaw accentuated the way it clenched. You observed the muscle as it moved, for maybe a moment too long. 

You couldn’t think of anything else to do except step in his direction. His breathing stilled for a millisecond, but he took the chance to curve his body to be a sort of shield around you. You touched your chest to the lower part of his. You felt your cheeks heat pink at the proximity. 

But, as soon as you did it, you backed away. You couldn’t take it. He was intoxicating. What were you doing?!

“I’m just upset. I don’t know!” You moaned. “Maybe I’m a little jealous. What are you gonna do about it?!” 

His beautiful brown eyes raked over your figure, making goosebumps cover every piece of your skin. 

Jake slowly moved his arm off the door. Then, he grabbed your waist, one hand at a time. His hands were warm when they wrapped around the bare skin at your midriff, exposed by the crop top. He looked in your eyes briefly, the moment completely frozen. Your combined breathing was all you could hear. 

Then, he met your lips with his. 

You faintly whimpered at the feeling. His lips were so soft. Fuck. He wasn’t even using his tongue yet, letting only his lips do the work. He pushed his bottom lip through the middle of yours. 

He backed you both into your bedroom, never coming up for air. When the backs of your knees finally hit the end of your mattress, you moved to breathe. You stared intently at his lips, swollen from kissing you. Then you moved your eyes up, where his own were already waiting for yours to meet his. 

This undisclosed moment seemed to be a chance to meet each other for the first time all over again.

You sat down on the bed, and Jake sat next to you. It felt like you were a teenager, still learning what it meant to be so near to someone in a new way. 

But he didn’t let it stay that way for long. He placed one steady hand against your cheek, your hair falling over it. He cradled your face and then kissed you again. 

You angled your body to make it a little easier for you both. It wasn’t long until he was doing the same, except he was better, smoother at the transition than you had been. He moved you up the bed, ever so slowly. His lips staying on yours to whole time. 

However he moved his body, you did the same until he was positioned above you with his arms and wavy locks acting as a cover for your head from the outside world. 

You pulled away for a second and situated your back to lean against a few pillows at your headboard, giving yourself some height and him some leverage. 

Everything was Jake at that moment. And truly, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

You took a little while just to look at the man above you, admiring how beautiful he truly was. He was like a piece of art that was so intricate in its strokes that you couldn’t pull your eyes away.

He slipped one leg between both of yours, adjusting his weight to settle halfway on the mattress and halfway on you. He started kissing your neck, eliciting a sigh from you. His lips felt so purposeful against your skin. He finally let his tongue sweep against the side of your neck. 

“Fuck, you taste sweet,” his voice was the raspiest you’d ever heard it. Your legs shook just a little at the sound. 

Then, you felt something against your hip, and you knew exactly what it was. You angled away slightly and looked up at him. His eyes were so dark when he said, “That’s what you do to me.” 

You flushed at his words, your heart pumping quickly. All you wanted to do was move your body to rub against it, so you did just that. He released a low growl at the feeling. 

“Y/n, dammit,” he sighed, his breath warm against where it was on your neck. “You don’t wanna do that.”

So, you did it again. This time, you did the motion just a little more deliberately, letting your hip grind into it.  

Still kissing your neck, he nipped at you, holding his teeth there for a few long seconds. 

He met your movements and pushed his hard dick in slow circles against you. It made your breath catch in your throat, and your eyes roll back.

“Jake,” you moaned. 

His face came up to yours, and he took that time to find your lips again. This time, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You whined at the feeling and you used your own tongue to find his. 

He sucked on your upper lip, while his tongue came out to lick the underside of it. You could only imagine his mouth in another place as he continued to draw your lips to his. Your clit twitched.

He groaned into your mouth, and you dazedly opened your eyes to get a look at his face. His were still closed, and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. 

It was one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen. He seemed so focused, so intent on his task. It made you squirm in the best way.

He placed his body completely over you now. He settled himself right on top of you, his hips connecting with your own. The feeling of his firm cock against your clothed pussy was fucking amazing. He rolled his hips down into yours, making you whine the loudest you had so far. You saw a knowing smirk grace his features, and he did it again. The friction was just right against the growing wetness in your pants. 

He kept his arms on either side of you, but stopped his teasing to move down just slightly to lift your shirt up. 

You raised your arms for him, and he took it off. The bralette you’d worn that day was still on, and he didn’t make a move to take it off of you. He did, however, bite his lip as soon as he saw your pink, hardening nipples through the nearly transparent lace. 

“Your tits are just as pretty as I knew they’d be,” he said, seeming to actually be in awe of your body. 

You felt his words everywhere, and your breasts responded to him by your nipples growing to an even firmer peak.

His hand covered your right breast, over the heated flesh and the thin material of the bra. His hand felt incredible touching you like this. 

He lightly squeezed, and rubbed a thumb over your nipple. He kneaded your breast, which earned a pleased sigh from you. 

Then, he skimmed the same hand over the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Except this time, he placed his mouth below your jaw, licking a line from your chin to right below your ear. Your toes curled at feeling him in two different places on your body. 

The sensation that came with being so close to him was exhilarating. His hands floated from their position on your body, skimming down your sides. His body moved with his hands until his mouth was at your belly button. He licked around it, and then delicately kissed your stomach, right below.  

“And I love your soft belly,” he breathed, then he went even further. 

And finally, he was right next to the place that wanted his mouth most. Your body thrummed, your skin flamed at him being so near to your most secret place. 

And at that moment, as you felt your folds pulse, impatient waiting for him. . . It all set in what was happening. 

You blinked a few times to bring yourself back to reality. This couldn’t happen. This was not at all what should’ve been happening. 

“Jake, stop,” you choked out and looked up at the ceiling. You couldn’t let yourself look at him anymore for fear of not letting him stop if you do. 

And he had to stop.

You didn’t want to move, truly, but you knew you had to. You edged up the bed, away from him. 

And when you glanced down momentarily, he looked completely dejected, but stayed in the place he’d been before. It made your heart hurt.

“Wh-what?” He frowned, trying to understand the situation. 

But you couldn’t wrap your mind fully around it, so you looked back at the ceiling and placed a hand over your eyes.  

“Just go, please,” you suddenly felt tears brimming, and just like earlier, you didn’t want him to see. “Go.” 

“Y/n,” he tried. You felt his hand lay against your calf, but you pulled your body away from his touch. 

“Go, Jake!” You replied, admittedly too harsh.

And just as a tear slipped down your cheek, you heard the door to your bedroom slam shut.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

The following morning wasn’t a happy one as you laid in bed. You hadn’t had a dream come to you. Your sleep had consisted of tossing and turning, never able to get fully comfortable.

You were being taunted by your thoughts, contemplating everything that’d happened recently. All of the small things, and last night’s event. . .

Currently, your mind was all the way back at your first meeting— when you’d seen him that first night with Josh, the way he’d lured you in instantly. 

Then, you thought of the dreams that came so often. . . And the way he pissed you off constantly. 

Though, at the back of your mind were these small, sacred incidents.

There was the ‘thank you’ he’d offered on game night, so many weeks ago. You still didn’t know why he’d decided to say thank you. He hadn’t had to say that. He sure hadn’t done so until that point.

The night he ordered and picked up the pizza after your argument, and still wanting to sit with you and eat it after you’d berated each other about pizza toppings. 

Then, when he’d started spending some nights with you on the couch, watching New Girl. You’d noted how his proximity to you continually grew as the nights went by. The blush on his cheeks when you’d told him you were excited with him, the grin that would come on his whole face when he talked about his music. 

The night before last when you’d accidentally fallen asleep in the middle of an episode, your head having somehow landed on his stomach. He hadn’t moved you, only nudged you awake gently, not being forceful, how his voice had been soft. 

The way he’d stayed to look at your nearly-naked body in the hallway that one night. The way you’d had the time to appreciate his sharp features, the curves of his body. It made your cheeks warm to think of how you two had unabashedly stood there appreciating each other’s bodies.

Then, there was the defending you in the record store that you’d genuinely appreciated. And you hadn’t had the decency to say thank you. What if you had? Would the display on the couch have welcomed you home? Would you have ended up with him in your bed? 

Yet, somehow the plant was the action of his that stuck out the most to you. It seemed so personal. It was a sweet thought that he hadn’t needed to act on, but he still decided to. 

Your heart fluttered as you thought of all of these things. He really wasn’t the worst guy. Yeah, he had a tendency to be a massive jerk, but how much of that stemmed from his past hurt?

Last night was a kicker. Your dreams had been so close to coming to life when you made out. Your lips had touched his, you’d felt his dick against your side. . . he’d been so close to you. You were sure you’d never be able to forget the feeling of him against you, with you. And oh, and the way his hands had held your breasts. He’d known exactly what he was doing.  

But, ultimately, you had crossed a line you had told yourself you wouldn’t. One, Josh was your best friend (besides your sister, of course) and if something happened between you and Jake, and it went wrong, you didn’t want to chance losing Josh. 

You also didn’t want to be another woman in Jake’s life who could possibly destroy his dream by getting in the way of it. You had to admit, you cared too much about him to let that happen. 

You ultimately made the decision that maybe it was best to avoid Jake for awhile. 

The sound of your phone buzzing came from your bedside table, interrupting your train of thought. You grabbed it, seeing who could be texting you. Thankfully, it was only Elsie. 

Elsie, 8:59 a.m.: Meet somewhere to find outfits for tonight?

You groaned, and held a hand to your forehead. The show was tonight. You blew out a breath. It had been the farthest thing from your mind since last night’s event. 

Fuck.

Going to the gig didn’t seem like the best idea. You didn’t want to be that close to Jake so soon after last night. You weren’t sure what might happen.

You needed to make it clear to him that you were drawing a big, fat, dark line in the sand. Only friends. Only roommates. Would going to a show support that stance? You didn’t think so.

Except, Elsie was going out of her way to be in town today to attend it with you. You had to go, just to be with her. And supporting Josh was a huge deal to you. 

You groaned again, but sent her a quick response agreeing to going shopping. 

If you went tonight, you’d just have to make sure to stand far away from the stage. If you were far enough away, you could watch it, text Josh about it, and then dip out quickly.

As you got up to get ready to go shopping with Elsie, you hoped all could go according to this shaky plan.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i’m afraid there will soon be a hitch in reader’s plan….. ohhh nooo… 😏😈

there is so much coming so soon, you guys omg…. hehe. 👏🏻 we are really getting down to the wire with some of the big stuff i’ve plotted out. i. can’t. WAIT!!

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh.

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

[cloudcountry]

music notes of the heart

Genre/Tropes: Study dates but its unestablished relationship? Floyd is flirting with you LMAO + Slow Dancing!!

Summary: Your tutor for musicology may not be other people's first choice, but he's yours.

Author's Comments: inspired by this tumblr post!! we truly do need more intelligent floyd content and i've already written for jade's dorky goofy silly side so many times sigh. also seriously, do not ask about the slow dancing merpeople rituals. you can infer. LMAO (@tinyletterz i hope you dont mind me tagging you but i was thinking of you when i wrote this bc yk. Floyd Leech. C:)

~~~~~

You set your books down on the table tucked in the corner of the library and sit down, shifting anxiously as you await your tutor. The smell of old papers and the sound of scratching pens from a few bookshelves away does nothing to dispel your nerves. If Ace and Deuce could see just who you’d asked for help, they surely would have yelled at you for hours and wrung out your neck in frustration.

It’s not like anyone else held the same passion for musicology, though. Besides, Floyd Leech wasn’t that bad once you got to know him.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, you think as he waltzes into the library, a lazy smirk on his face and his hands shoved into his pockets. His back is hunched slightly as he looks around the library, eyes scanning over each face with an almost predatory grin. You raise your arms and wave him over, trying not to make much noise to avoid being yelled at by the crabby librarian.

Floyd does not share that sentiment.

“Shrimpy!” he yells (honestly you don’t think he’s capable of yelling any louder) and bounces over to you.

He sweeps you into his arms in the blink of an eye, cackling madly as he nuzzles you. The librarian shoots the two of you a glare, and you shrink into his chest with shame. You’ll have to apologize to him later.

“Were ya trying to hide from me?” he breathes, sharp teeth on display as he grins down at your bundled-up form, “You know I’d sniff you out, right?”

“I wasn’t.” you protest, but it falls on deaf ears and Floyd squeezes you closer. His nose brushes against your cheek and he borderline snuggles you and you’re glad you’ve picked a table in the corner because if you were any closer to the center everyone would be staring.

“Alright Shrimpy,” he murmurs, setting you down in your chair with two quick taps on your head, “Ya said you needed my help with musicology?”

“I didn’t know who else to ask.” you say, sliding your textbook over to him with a furrowed brow, “You’re the best in that class and I can’t seem to grasp any of it.”

Floyd sits down next to you and leans in close, so close that you can smell the cologne on his clothing. You let him read through the notes you made on the sheet of lined paper you used to mark your page, gnawing at your lower lip self-consciously. You know you aren’t the best at this subject but it’s Floyd’s best, and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid.

He seems to be able to read minds because Floyd looks over at you with a pout.

“Shrimpy, I’d tell ya if you were stupid. So quit worrying.” Floyd scolds, snatching your hand up and squeezing it as he intertwines your fingers, “The fun thing about musicology is that you can analyze and learn from any angle ya want!”

“Freer subjects are harder to work with, though.” you confess, “I’m not sure how to go about...figuring something out when it doesn’t have structure.”

Floyd sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry as if to say “Boo, Shrimpy. Now you do sound stupid.” You can almost hear his voice.

“Just pick something and we can start from there. What kind of music do ya like?” he bumps you with his shoulder, a huge grin on his face, “Ya gotta have something.”

You answer him, and he makes an “ah-ha!” noise. He mumbles a page number and flicks through the textbook before coming to a stop at a chapter that goes into that exact type of music. There are music scores printed on the right page and some kind of tree diagram on the left one. You stare at the words incredulously, already lost.

“Come on now, Shrimpy. Work that tiny little brain of yours.” Floyd teases, jabbing your temple with a giggle, “I know you can do it.”

You swat his hand away and wiggle your hand out of his hold, feeling a foreign heat creep up on your cheeks. Floyd giggles again as if he knows, and leans in even closer to you.

“Hey Shrimpy.” he whispers, eyes gleaming in the corner of your vision, “I changed my mind, let’s ditch the reading. I’m getting bored. What are ya gonna do about that, huh?”

You’re not sure you can do anything honestly, but you expected him to leave pretty early on in your study session anyway. It’s a miracle you got him to agree in the first place.

“Oh, you can leave.” you offer him a quick smile and turn back to your textbook, pouring over the words, “I didn’t expect you to stay the whole time- Woah!”

You’re swept out of your chair but the second time that day, and your body thumps against Floyd’s. He stares at you with a cheerful grin as he takes your hands and places them on his arms. You jump a bit when his lanky arms wrap around your waist, but when he starts swaying slowly you get the idea.

“Let’s try something else, yeah?” he snickers, “Can you tell me why people slow dance?”

“Um...to feel emotional closeness?” you say, eyes glued to his rumpled purple shirt so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“Bingo.” he chuckles, “Merpeople also have dances like this.”

You’re tempted to ask what those dances are for, but you don’t. Floyd sweeps you around and your feet lift off the floor for a second, but you don’t feel like you’re going to fall. Floyd squeezes you a bit tighter as he guides you, somehow avoiding any tables and chairs and bookcases with master precision.

“I didn’t know you could slow dance.” you whisper, “I thought you were more of a fast paced dancer.”

“Meh. Normally.” he shrugs, “But I like dancing like this with ya. It’s fun.”

Your heart flutters.

“Can ya tell me anything else about it?” he hums, lifting his arm and spinning you around. Your breath catches in your throat as he dips you, the arm carefully holding up your waist your only support.

“Um...” you stumble over your words, grasping for any thoughts as you stare into his eyes, “Uh, it’s- um, slow dancing brings people physically closer too? Because you can feel their movement and everything-”

“Good little Shrimpy.” he giggles, hoisting you back up and resuming his more soothing swaying, “See? You’re doing good. I told ya you’d figure it out.”

Did he? You don’t even remember.

“I think I need more instruction.” you mumble, eyes darting away once again.

Floyd laughs loudly at that, but this time you don’t care when the librarian shushes you.

#auburn's fics <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd fluff #floyd leech is a silly guy #floyd x reader #floyd leech fluff #uhhh i dont rlly know if this counts as intelligent floyd? #I HOPE IT DOES..... #I GOT SIDETRACKED #uhhhh its fluffy and thats what matters #BYE NOW LMAO

[writerblue275]

The One That Could Break My Heart (Chapter 1)

Inspiration: "Houdini" and “Break My Heart” - Dua Lipa and “Got Me Started” - Troye Sivan

Champion: Ezreal (Pilty/Explorer/FWB!Ez)

Summary: Your best friend (with benefits) has finally returned from his two months abroad, and the two of you pick up like nothing has changed. Or have they? (Gaaaah I’m no good at summaries, either creative or academic lmao.)

Genre: Song-inspired fic

Category: Fluff and SMUT-ish (18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Gender: Reader is ok with traditionally “fem” clothing like lingerie. Future parts (since I’ll be honest I’ve written like the whole story already) lean more towards reader comfortable with using she/her pronouns/are afab.

TW: Adult themes and suggestive stuff. Again, this is friends with benefits here, y’all. Swearing (no shock).

IMPORTANT CONTEXT: If you haven’t already, pause and go read my FWB!EZ headcanon (HERE). This story is set in the same “universe” as that and the headcanon provides important background info and context. It is easier to link that post than explain everything again in this story. Also, it’s likely that I’m taller than Ez, but you know what, sometimes I want to feel tiny so character is shorter than Ez in this one.

^ His smirk/nod to Kai’Sa was literally what got the wheels turning on this whole headcanon/AU in the first place. Look at him. Look at this cocky fucker. I love him lmao.

Key:

“Houdini” lyrics in blue

“Break My Heart” lyrics in orange

“Got Me Started” lyrics in purple

-“Center of attention, you know you can get whatever you want from me; whenever you want it baby.”

You sigh as you look down at the note in your hands, hating how your body has an almost Pavlovian response to this specific penmanship. Your heart speeds up and cheeks heat as you read through the words. The note on top of the three clothing boxes is unsigned, but that doesn't matter. You could recognize the slightly messy handwriting half-asleep.

"Come over later? Have the place to myself the next few days since the professor is away for a conference. Missed you. Here are some gifts to make up for my absence. Wear the green and bring the others."

"Looks like he's back...I wonder for how long this time," you muse to yourself as you contemplate the strange change in routine. It isn’t even the gifts. The appearance of a note and luxury clothing boxes are familiar, arriving like a calling card every time your best friend Ezreal returns from an expedition across the continent. The surprise is the change in location. Usually Ez just comes over to your apartment the moment he drops his things off at home, showers, and changes. He very rarely invites anyone over to the home he shares with his uncle when he is in town.

You quickly scribble off a response and send it off to be delivered to him.

"Of course, but next time, give me some more advanced notice, will you? Believe it or not, I can't just hop into the shower and be ready to go like you can. So, I hope you’re prepared to appreciate the effort. You're buying food, especially if you expect me to deal with your stamina for more than the weekend, Indiana Jones. Thank you for the beautiful gifts. I missed you too, E. See you at 7."

After sending off the note, you quickly flip through the carefully stacked clothing boxes, giggling softly and shaking your head as you confirm he, once again, sent you three expensive, beautiful, and lacy sets of lingerie, one in rich purple, one in black, and one in emerald green. You can't help but reminisce on the now-funny moment when he asked for your permission to buy things like this for you when you two first started your arrangement a year and a half ago. You smile as you remember his laugh at your confused expression. You had initially refused, saying you didn't expect gifts like that from him. It wasn't until he explained the upsides for himself that you finally realized it was beneficial to both parties. Hey…the man had good taste, that could not be denied. You stand lost in thought for a while as you finger the expensive green lace of the set he referenced in his note.

The sound of your mail flap draws you back to reality and signals the delivery of Ez's reply. Quickly, you go over and open the note, unable to hold back a laugh and an eyeroll at his response.

"But that would take away your surprise of being graced with my incredible presence again! As for food, I figured that would be a stipulation. It's on me. Also, when have I not properly appreciated your efforts? I take offense at the insinuation considering I actively contribute to your efforts through said gifts. Don't keep me waiting too long, princess..."

That fucking nickname...he knows damn well what it does to you. It started when you both were much younger, just innocent and teasing banter between childhood friends and he decided that was your nickname. Of course now, many years later, the teasing connotation still exists, but the innocence is largely gone. Between that and the other pet name he calls you when you’re alone together, “baby,” he knows exactly what to say to get what he wants. Then again you can’t really complain since you also want the same thing.

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur as you pack and prepare for your time away, putting on just a little makeup and dressing in a skirt and a white blouse that is very barely see through, enough for the green lace underneath to peek through, but easy enough to cover with your nice coat. Once you slip a pair of flats on, you make the shortish walk to the house in the lovely fall weather Piltover is currently having.

-"He’s got the personality, not even gravity could ever hold him down."

Soon enough you find yourself approaching the back door of the grand home. You're early, but you can't imagine Ez would mind much, especially if he’s alone. Curiously, you look up to his bedroom window, which also faces the alley. Sure enough, there he is, watching you with a massive grin. He even blows you an exaggerated kiss. Rolling your eyes, you flip him off, unable to keep from beaming as his loud laughter filters down to you through the window. It is a sound you’d missed desperately these past two months while he was gone. Knocking your familiar pattern, you wait patiently for him to get the door.

It doesn’t take long for him to answer. As soon as the door opens, his smug voice sounds near your ear as he leans forward. “That eager to see me, princess? You’re an hour early…”

Your heart speeds up but you just smirk and turn your head so your lips are very barely separated from his. “I could ask the same of you, Ezreal…seems like you’ve been waiting at your window for quite a while, and I wasn’t even supposed to arrive for another hour…not to mention the speed with which you opened the door. Miss me that much, Indiana Jones?” you murmur. You can’t help the satisfaction you feel as you see his pupils dilate a little bit as he’s affected by your words and how close you are.

The moment extends for a second longer with you two just smirking at each other before he takes your duffel bag, drops it to the ground, and throws his arms around you, burying his face against your neck.

“You know I did,” he says, his words muffled against you as he holds onto you tightly.

“I missed you too, Ez. Welcome home. I’m really glad you’re back,” you murmur as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso and bury your face against his shoulder. Eventually after a minute of just hugging, the two of you finally step back and smile at each other.

“I want to hear about your adventures, but maybe not all the ways you nearly died,” you muse, then laugh at how utterly ridiculous that sounds.

His grin just widens. “Well fortunately or unfortunately for you, I was invited to a dinner thrown by one of the council tomorrow night and since you’re my go-to plus-one, you’ll get to hear all about it, but that also include the not-so-pretty details. You know that’s all the society vultures want to hear about,” he says, grabbing your bag, leading you inside the beautiful home, and allowing you time to remove your shoes and hang up your coat.

-“I come and I go. Prove you got the right to please me.”

“So that’s why you invited me here instead of coming over,” you tease. “You didn’t want to carry a garment bag with a dress and shoes. Tsk tsk Ezreal you’re getting laz-eep!” Your teasing is cut short as he easily sweeps you into a bridal carry and moves up the stairs with you to get to his room.

His smirk is playful as he glances down at you and murmurs, his voice getting a little husky, “Careful, princess…you sure you want to finish that sentence? That’s a strong accusation. You of all people should know I’m not lazy. What did you call my stamina the night I got back last time? “Legendary,” was it? I seem to remember you throwing out that particular word after our events of that evening.”

You grin for a moment as he takes the bait of your trap to tease him, reaching up to play with his soft golden hair. That night had been absolutely mind-blowing, and he wasn’t wrong. You had used “legendary” to describe his stamina because that’s what it was. But, you’re not done riling him up yet, knowing you’re playing a deliciously dangerous game. “That night? Ez that was three months ago! How do I know the wait was worth it since you left? A lot might have changed in the two months you’ve been gone,” you remark with mock sincerity, internally cheering and grinning as he lets out a soft growl and moves a little faster down the hall to get to his room.

Once he’s inside and the door is closed, he immediately sets your duffle bag down before turning his focus to you. The second your feet touch the plush carpet he has you backed up against the door, his arms around your waist pulling you roughly against him, his nose brushing against your nose, and his lips frustratingly close to yours. He’s so close you can see just how many beautiful shades of blue the irises of his eyes have as they surround his slightly blown out pupils. He leans forward and ever-so-lightly brushes his lips against yours, barely making any contact at all before pulling back. As you let out a soft whine and chase his lips, he smirks widely and murmurs, “What’s wrong, (Y/N)? I thought you said a lot might have changed in two months, but it seems to me you’re just as impatient as ever. Not only that, but it seems like you still want me just as much. Am I correct?”

This clever man. He’s managed to completely flip the situation, instead winding you up like a damn toy. You can’t help but let out an exasperated giggle and a breathless “Fuck you, Ez,” before tangling your arms around his neck and kissing him hungrily. You playfully nibble his lower lip as he chuckles against yours, his hands going on a journey to reacquaint themselves with your body. Just like his initial kiss though, his touch is purposefully light in order to work you up even more.

“Ezreal, I swear to fucking God if you don’t touch me like you mean it I’ll never forgive you,” you threaten as your lips move down and nip his neck. You try to imbue your threat with at least a little sharpness, but there’s a thread of neediness that really undermines your intent so you decide to switch tactics. “Especially after I went through all this effort to look so pretty for you.” You give him a mock pout as your arms leave his neck and your hands start working on your blouse buttons, immediately drawing his eyes downward.

You only undo a couple buttons, enough for him to see just a little emerald green lace peek out before your lips move back to his neck. “Good choice with the green, by the way. You remember my favorite color after all this time,” you teasingly purr against him, knowing damn well he has one of the best memories of anyone you’ve ever met. “Finish ‘unwrapping me,’” you throw his own words from previous encounters back at him, “then I can thank you for the beautiful presents and you can show me how much you missed me, what do you think?”

You immediately feel immense satisfaction as he lets out a whisper soft “Holy fuck (y/n)…” under his breath as a reaction to your words, almost like he just can’t help it. As playful as he is, your best friend prides himself on his ability to remain level-headed at almost all times. As he says often, he’d have died many times without it. Being one of the few who can cause Ezreal’s control to slip, especially for this reason, is a point of major pride for you. Even the man himself gives you credit for your abilities to bring him to his knees, literally and figuratively, an honor considering his ego.

He kisses you deeply again before murmuring against your lips, “Legs up around me, baby. Got it? We’re going on a field trip across the room.” He presses himself even closer against you as he cups his hands under your ass to keep you stable.

You instantly obey him, giggling softly in delight as his hands squeeze you. You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as you wrap your legs around his hips, trusting him to support you.

You feel and hear his soft and affectionate chuckle close to your ear as you happily nuzzle his cheek while he carries you. “That’s it, princess…look at you, so good for me…I missed you so much, baby.”

You let out a noise of pleasure as his hands continue to squeeze and knead you. “F-fuck I missed this…I missed you so much, Ez,” you murmur.

Ezreal sits on the edge of his massive bed, keeping you in his lap as he gently makes you look at him so he can kiss you again. His lips are hungry, his hands tangle in your hair, and you swear you lose all sense of time when he kisses you like that.

Eventually he pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, his heavy breathing mixing with your own. “Stand between my legs, princess. Let me undress you,” he very gently commands.

You eagerly scramble off his lap and do as he asks, moving your hands back up to your shirt to help him unbutton it.

“Baby no….I want to do it,” Ezreal murmurs softly, gently grabbing your hands and giving them a squeeze as he looks up at you with a soft smile. “You may touch me, but let me undress you,” his order is tender, his voice filled with affection, but it is still an order nonetheless.

“S-sorry,” you softy respond and blush as you quickly put your hands together behind your back, wanting to be good for him.

“It’s alright, baby…I appreciate how eager you are. It shows me how much you missed me,” he soothes as he reaches up and gently cups your cheek, allowing you time to close your eyes and lean happily into his warm touch. After a moment or two, he gently removes his hand and starts on your shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of your skirt and beginning to work on the buttons. It doesn’t take him long to have your shirt open in front, revealing more of the beautiful and intricate emerald green lace that was hiding underneath.

You love how dark his eyes turn as he takes you in. “As I said, Indiana Jones, excellent choice with the green. I adore it,” you remark teasingly as he lets out a soft growl of appreciation.

“Damn, I think I’ve really outdone myself,” Ezreal murmurs, almost more to himself than to you. He looks up at you as he gently starts to work on your skirt. “You look absolutely incredible, princess. I know you like the color, but do you like the style? Is it comfortable? Do you feel as gorgeous as you look, baby?” He asks, his questions filled with a genuine curiosity that makes you smile.

You nod, setting a hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself as you kick your skirt away once he has it down your legs. “It’s very comfortable and I feel so beautiful in this, Ez. You know my style very well at this point, so trust me when I say I’m never concerned I won’t like something you get me,” you confirm, moving your hand on his shoulder to gently play with his hair. You love the happy little sigh he lets out as you gently massage his scalp with your nails.

“Good,” he replies. “I just want you to see yourself as I see you. Sexy, brilliant, witty, strong, and irreplaceable.”

“Y-you think I’m all that, Ez?” Surprise creeps into your tone as you blush deeply. His words are unexpectedly sweet and you can tell he’s being serious. It’s quite a change of character from a man who is usually so playful and teasing when it comes to your intimate moments together.

He gently wraps his arms around you and pulls you deeper in between his legs, leaning forward and laying soft kisses on the bare skin under your bra. He stuns you even more as he says, “Of course I do. And if I’ve ever failed to show you that through my actions, then I hope you will please forgive me.”

You very gently tug on his hair, making him look up at you before you lean down and kiss him softly but passionately. You just kiss him for a moment before murmuring, “Ezreal, there’s nothing to forgive. You’ve always believed in me and defended me for who I am since our friendship started almost two decades ago. Between your actions and words, you’ve repeatedly made it clear you believe what you’ve said. Sometimes it’s just a bit unbelievable to know I have someone as great as you in my corner to hype me up and make me feel so amazing and…well…desired. Self-love is just something I’m still working on.” You straighten yourself back up and hum happily as he returns his attentions back to your torso.

He murmurs against your skin, “Always happy to help you there, princess. Happy to tell you as many times, tell you as many things, and show you as many times as I need to for you to believe it.” His lips are now getting more and more passionate, including little sucks and nibbles.

You can’t help but lean your head back and close your eyes. “Let me guess,” you sigh with mock disappointment, “I’m going to get a lot of marks that I’ll have to deal with during the next few days.”

He grins against your skin before looking up at you, his chin resting on your tummy. “You know me so well, princess. I’ll try to make sure they’re not obvious,” he teases, completely returning to the playful lover you’ve gotten used to.

You look back down at him. “See that you do please. I’d like to avoid a repeat of last time. During one of the rare times both of my brother and I could make it to my parents’ house, he pulled me aside during dinner and asked me what the hell I’d been doing to get hickies on my neck and jaw. Hickies I didn’t realize were there, Ezreal. I saved your sexy ass, you know. He tried to get a name out of me. When he guessed you as a potential “suspect” I’m pretty sure I felt my entire soul leave my body. I had to lie and play everything off. Not an easy feat since I spend quite a bit of time with you when you’re home, and that’s something my brother is well aware of. Do you know how difficult it is to lie to your own twin brother?! He was ready to go on the warpath. I’m still not totally convinced he believes me that it wasn’t you, but you’re alive so he must believe me enough. Or he’s smart enough to know I’d kill him with my bare hands if he did anything to you. Oh, and also, disappearing for a few minutes at dinner only to come back downstairs with a scarf on wasn’t exactly subtle and my parents realized what was up. They didn’t ask me anything directly, but I’m pretty sure my mother said your name when I overheard them discussing it later on. My own parents talked about it, you fuck. You should have told me they were there,” you playfully complain and mock pout.

His grin turns more and more into a smirk and his hands continue to wander throughout your mini tangent. “My sexy ass and I appreciate your assistance in making sure I lived to see another day, princess,” he comments. “I’ll make sure to learn from my…mistakes, though you certainly enjoyed the process of getting those marks, if my memory serves me correctly. It usually does.” He winks at you.

This earns an eye roll and a sigh from you, even though he’s very right. “If you want to keep your mouth running, Ez, might I suggest you use it in a different manner on a different location? At least make it even more useful to me…” You let out breathlessly as your impatience starts to get the better of you.

“Tsk tsk, so impatient. I thought you were thanking me for the gifts first, princess,” he responds smugly as he undresses you the rest of the way.

You quickly undress him before gently pushing him to lay back on his bed, straddling him and leaning down so your lips are barely separated. “You drive me fucking crazy sometimes, you know that, Indiana Jones?” You whisper before nipping his bottom lip.

“The feeling is quite mutual, princess,” he whispers back with a wicked smirk. “Now come on…show me how much you really missed me…”

So you do. And he shows you how very VERY much he missed you in return.

(A/N: I’m so sorry, I tried to write this out as a full smut scene but it was just no good so fade to black it is for now. 🙃)

“I need something that will make me believe. If you got it, baby, give it to me.”

An hour and a half later, you lay completely satisfied with your head on Ezreal’s shoulder and hand on his chest, feeling his slowing heart rate thump against your palm. As you do, Ez is happily playing with your hair and gently tracing shapes into your bare hip with his free hand as your breathing and heart rate return to normal. You’re both just enjoying the feeling of being together again and savoring the comfortable and companionable silence you two have felt with each other for a long time. Well…silence until your stomach decides to make its displeasure at being empty loudly known. You feel Ez’s shoulder shift a little as he turns his head to look down at you as best he can.

“Hungry?” he murmurs softly, amusement evident in his voice. As he gives you the chance to respond, he gently kisses your temple, making you blush at the sweet little gesture.

You nod and shyly respond, “I thought we’d have dinner before we got to our…main events for the evening. We’ve been doing this for long enough though that I really should have known better. I’m just as impatient as you are.” You gently smirk up at him, enjoying the playful flicker of delight in his eyes.

A grin appears on his handsome face. “Come on now, princess. I know you’re smarter than that,” he teases gently as he carefully sits up with you. “What do you feel like having? We have leftovers, or we can order something to be delivered. Whatever you prefer.”

You think for a moment, biting your bottom lip. “I know this is probably a stretch, but do you happen to have any soup? It’s starting to get colder outside now that fall finally arrived,” you muse as you glance out the window on the far side of the room where the sun has already gone down. “I was thinking on the way over that it’s soup weather.”

Ezreal nods and murmurs, “Chef had the same thought. She told me she made some turkey and rice soup yesterday. She and the rest of the staff have the next few days off while my uncle is away, but she showed me where the leftovers were. I’ll go heat some and bring it up, along with some water. Knowing you, you probably haven’t had much today…have you?” He gets up before leaning back over you, bracketing you in with his arms, nearly nose-to-nose with you, a knowing expression in his eyes and a small smile gracing his lips. As close as he is, your body is already begging for him to come closer again, despite your currently exhausted and sated state.

You shake your head and temporarily hide your face in the soft blankets covering the bed and sigh. “God damnit we’ve been friends for far too long. You know me too well, Ez. Yes, water is definitely needed…” You peek back out at him over the blankets and giggle as you watch the smile on his face grow wider and wider.

He laughs and leans down, pulling down the blankets before giving you a surprisingly slow, tender, and deep kiss before haphazardly throwing on his pants and shirt and going out the door. He leaves you staring after him in surprise, heart fluttering, breathing a little shallow, and cheeks even more flushed after the intensity of that kiss. He’s been super…affectionate today. While Ezreal has never been an asshole after your moments together, neither has he gone way out of his way to….well to act so sweet either. Certainly he’s never heated up leftovers for you.

You shake your head, shaking away all those strange thoughts. I’m sure it’s just because he’s hosting me for a few days. And besides, wasn’t he talking about making sure his actions show me how he sees me? I’m thinking way too much into it! You happily sigh and get up, walking around to stretch your legs while you wait. After pulling on the bottoms of the emerald green set that Ez so carelessly tossed to the side earlier, you end up throwing on a shirt you pull out of his dresser as you check yourself out in the mirror on top of it. Usually he offers you his shirt when he’s at your place, but since he’s currently wearing it, this will have to do.

You shyly bring the collar of the shirt to your nose and inhale. A whisper soft noise of pleasure slips out from your lips, along with a smile as you confirm that yes, even after two months of him being away, the fabric still smells just like him. He’s always smelled nice. You don’t know what it is or what exact product is responsible for this fucking sorcery, but his “smell” has always been comforting for you. Probably because we’ve been friends forever, you think. It’s just one of those parts of him that has grown to be so familiar to me. You continue to ponder the matter as you hold the collar of the T-shirt up.

“It’s you in my reflection, I’m afraid of all the things it could do to me.”

As you look up to the mirror again, you jump a little in surprise as you meet Ezreal’s gaze in the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorway, just watching you with an amused smile as he holds a tray with two steaming bowls of soup and glasses of water. You let out a soft complaint as your cheeks heat and your hands immediately straighten out the shirt. “Damnit, Ezreal! How long have you been there?”

He just shakes his head a little and chuckles. “Just got here. And I wasn’t even trying to surprise you this time. You were just lost in thought,” he observes. “What had you thinking so much?” He waits until you’re settled back on his bed with the covers over your lap before passing the tray to you so he can also climb back in. He also pulls another tray from his night stand, carefully transferring one of the bowls and glasses to it so both of you have your own trays to eat from.

You watch him, waiting until he’s done before you start speaking. “There’s no point in lying. You already practically read me like an open book. You, actually. Specifically how surprisingly good you smell. Granted I haven’t been on a two-month-long excursion with you where there are limited bathing options. Trust me, I’m extremely grateful you shower and change before you come to my place/invite me over once you get home. But, anyway, whenever I see you, at least, you and your clothes smell very nice. I was also thinking about how familiar and…comforting? your “smell” has become to me. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends with someone for nearly two decades. It’s just one of those small things that becomes a part of you knowing the person.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “You’re right,” he observes. “I’ve never thought about it like that, but you also have what I would consider to be a “comforting smell.” Though, what’s interesting is how it doesn’t have to be static. It can be dynamic but still be definitely yours. Like today. You’re trying a new perfume out, yeah? Or at least one I haven’t noticed you use before.”

You’d been eating the delicious soup while he was talking. When that question left his lips, your spoon froze halfway to your mouth in surprise. “You’re right, actually, I am! Granted it’s in the same collection as the couple others I have so it’s not crazy different from the others I wear. Honestly that’s impressive, Ez,” you note before finally finishing the soup spoon’s journey to your mouth.

He gives you a victorious smile. “I knew it! I think a lot of it is the fact that we’ve known each other so long. I can just tell when something is different. By the way, the perfume, it smells good. I like it,” he remarks casually, causing you to laugh in between sips of water.

“Duly noted,” you acknowledge. “I brought the sample size with me so I’ll wear it tomorrow for the event. Speaking of tomorrow’s event, I’m imagining you also have a dress and shoes ready for me somewhere? Usually you send them with whatever “special” presents you’ve ordered for me, but I suppose since I was already coming over here there was no need.”

He nods and tilts his head to gesture towards his closet, a sly smile on his lips. “All good. It's in there with my suit, sugar baby,” he jokes. His unexpected tease causes you to lean your head back and laugh loudly, a genuine belly laugh that only a couple people, mostly him, manage to draw out of you.

“You’re a fucker sometimes, you know that, Ez?” you manage to get out as you suppress even more laughter.

He just grins widely at you before unabashedly stating, “Oh I’m well aware. But guess what? I’m your fucker, princess.”

Thank you for reading! Oh my GOD chapter 1 has been so much fun to write. I will say, this has hung out in my drafts for a little bit, mainly due to nerves, but I finally realized I just need to let it go and post it before I psych myself out completely. Chapter 2 is essentially written already, I’m just editing it a bit more.

#Ezreal #ezreal fic #ezreal x reader #reader insert #ezreal fluff #ezreal smut #league of legends

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [7]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 14,007  

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of scars, mentions of a panic attack, manipulation, canon drug use, comic book science? Titans science? (author's note at the end lol), canon violence, blood, bruises, gore, breaking bones, mentions of nightmares, canon character death (I'm so sorry)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work.Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Happy birthday to Jason Todd!! So, sorry I did this for his birthday lmao I lied, this is longer than I thought it would be lol But I'm so sorry. I don't have anything else to say for myself besides canon made me do it and so did the comics lol I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Over the next couple of weeks, Jason continues to go to therapy as directed by Bruce. To his surprise, it actually seems to be helping a little bit. He’s still having nightmares but they aren’t every night anymore. His hands aren’t shaking as badly either. He just feels a little bit better. Maybe Bruce and you were right about Leslie.

You and Jason are doing better, too. There have been moments where he’s gotten a little too frustrated but he remembers your talk and you give him a little bit of space until he’s ready to talk. It works for the both of you. You go on dates at least once a week and you both actually feel normal during the day. It’s not about being a vigilante and figuring out how to survive.

You go out on patrol three days a week instead of six. This is Jason’s thing and you know it bothers him. You can wait to patrol every night until he gets Robin back. It doesn’t bother you that much. And this way, you get to spend more time together and exist in a normal way that you desperately craved. You are a normal couple for once.

Above all of that, it’s been good. Things have been good. And while that is terrifying, you and Jason stick it out anyway. You don’t run or push. You both want to sometimes because it’s easier but you’re both fucking happy. So, you don’t. You don’t do it because losing each other is worse than anything the other could ever dish out. Running and pushing wouldn’t do either of you any good for the first time in your lives. So, you both enjoy the happiness together. Until things come to a screeching halt.

You're in the living room, having a FaceTime TV marathon with Gar when Bruce comes home. He offers a quick hello before trying to walk off but you call him anyway. He’s home a lot later than he should be since he went to pick up Jason. It was his request you stay back this time.

“Where’s Jason?” You question.

In all fairness, you wouldn’t be asking him normally but you also haven’t heard much from Jason since his therapy session ended. He said Bruce was taking him somewhere so he would be home later. And that was kind of the end of it. He’s been doing quite a bit better so you haven’t been as worried when he doesn’t text you back right away. But now Bruce is here without him.

“In the city.” Bruce answers plainly.

“Why? You went to pick him up?” You raise a brow and something happened. Jason texted you in the car. He was fine and with Bruce.

You look at the time and see that was a few hours ago.

“He’s upset. I’m giving him space. You should, too.” Bruce states.

“What did you do?” You deadpan, pulling up the text thread with Jason.

“I did not do anything.” Bruce defends. “He’ll be home soon.” Bruce states before he walks off.

“Everything okay?” Gar asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I assume they got into some sort of fight again.” You roll your eyes. “Did he text you by chance?” You ask seeing the read receipt from a few hours ago.

Gar checks his phone and the last he heard from Jason was that morning. “No, he hasn’t texted me since this morning. What’s going on?”

You: you okay? Bruce said you’re upset what happened?

“I have no idea. He was fine earlier.” You let out a sigh, looking back at Gar through the tablet screen.

“You said he’s been better, right? Maybe he’s just blowing off steam from Bruce.” Gar suggests. Jason has shared some of the stuff that's happened and has complained a little about Bruce.

“Yeah, but if that’s the case, he usually comes to me to bitch about Bruce because I always agree with him.” You give Gar a grin just as your phone goes off.

Jaybird 🥰: fuck bruce I’m fine don’t worry

You: what happened? Do you want me to come get you?

“Well he texted me back and I was right, fight with Bruce.” You roll your eyes.

They fight sometimes, usually about Robin-related things or Jason wanting to do something reckless and Bruce putting a stop to it. Jason’s usually only a mad an hour or so before he’s fine and over it. Jason doesn’t hold very many grudges.

“Did he say about what?” Gar asks.

“Nope. Just said, fuck Bruce.”

Jaybird 🥰: no just wanna be alone still you and me love you ❤️

You: call or text every so often so I know you’re okay please I love you, too 🥰

“What’d he say?” Gar asks. He worries enough for the both of you/

“He wants to be alone and when Jason wants to be alone that is never good. But we have this thing where I let him be alone and then he tells me about it later. So, I guess I have to wait. If he isn’t home or texting me in a few hours, I’ll go look for him.” You reluctantly put your phone down. Giving Jason space is never easy.

“Think he’ll be alright?” Gar asks with worry in his voice.

“Yeah, him and Bruce fight sometimes. I’m sure it’s nothing too bad, Bruce probably just said something stupid and Jason was already in a mood.” You let out a sigh as the worry feeling gnaws at your stomach.

“Did you want to still—“

“Yeah, yeah, no. We can keep watching. He said he’ll text me.” You offer a soft smile while the two of you continue your show.

It’s not fair. It’s utter bullshit. Jason can’t help the way his blood is boiling and fuming while his hands shake. Bruce doesn’t think he’s good enough to be Robin. Bruce gave up on him. Jason is supposed to be his son and Bruce gave up on him anyway but he never gave up on Dick. If Jason weren’t so weak, this whole thing never would have happened. But he’s gonna prove to Bruce he can be Robin. He can be the best Robin and he can be a better Batman, too. He just needs a little help in the fear department.

He’s desperate. He tells himself this is a one-time thing. Fear creeps in his throat, grasping to be let out in the damp air. It’s a one-time thing, he tells himself. He’s out of options if he wants to be Robin. He’s out of options if he wants to keep the most important thing in his life. All he needs is a quick fix to fear and he’ll be back out there, better than he has ever been. He’ll prove it to Bruce. Bruce is wrong about him.

Bruce thinks he’s a mistake. He thinks Jason isn't worth the trouble just like everyone else. Bruce thinks Jason is weak. He thought Jason could replace Dick and he couldn’t. Not as Robin and not as Bruce’s son. But if he can get rid of his fear, he can show him how wrong he is. He isn’t just another mistake. He isn’t weak and he’s better than Dick. He swears this will be it. It won’t be bad. He can handle this. He swears it’ll all be fine. So, he hangs up on Leslie and heads inside the gates of Arkham Asylum as rain patters around him.

He’s a master manipulator. Jason knows that. It’s one of the things he’s best at. But the desperation for a cure to fear clouds every aspect of that. The desperation doesn’t let him see why Crane wants information for the cure. He can’t see Crane’s angel in his state of paralyzed desperation. And Jason has been manipulated before. He swears he’ll know if Crane is manipulating him because he knows what to look out for this time. But, desperation and the fear of being scared forever, go hand in hand. Fear and desperation cloud everything. He tosses his loyalty from the window as he gets closer to the formula. Crane gives him a piece of it with every piece of information Jason gives him.

“Tell me about the first Robin.” Crane offers this grin that sends a chill down Jason’s spine.

“Like what?” Jason huffs.

“His name, where he is, everything you know.”

“Dick Grayson. He’s in San Francisco and goes by Nightwing.” Jason explains, throwing Dick completely under the bus. He has a problem with Dick now anyway. Dick Grayson has always been the goody two shoes and Bruce’s favorite. Jason only got to be Robin because Dick abandoned Bruce. Jason was a filler. “He’s with the Titans. He got Deathstroke’s son killed and dropped me from a skyscraper.” Jason lets out a scoff.

“Interesting. Doesn’t seem to be the golden boy Bruce portrayed him as.” Crane grins and this is easier than he thought it would be. Jason has no problems rolling, apparently and Crane knows he’s going to use that to his advantage.

He’s broken. He’s desperate and Crane has the cure he wants. This is going to be easy and Crane gets all benefits. Jason lets him take down the Bat but in the best way. Crane is going to get the Bat’s son to turn on him and get rid of him. To break him. And then Dick Grayson and all of Gotham will follow. Crane finds the whole thing a little poetic. He can use him. And Jason will never see through it once he figures out the formula.

“Yep.” Jason answers simply, wanting to get this over with and Crane offers him a piece of the formula.

“The Titans. Who are they?” Crane asks, hiding the malicious intent behind curiosity.

Jason looks up to him and he doesn’t like to throw some of the others under the bus. But Crane is here. He can’t do anything. And most of them thought he was just Dick’s weaker replacement anyway. They gave up, too.

“Rachel Roth, Raven. Hank Hall, Hawk. Dawn Granger, Dove. Kory Anders, Starfire. Conner Kent, Superboy. Gar Logan, Beast Boy.” Jason pauses, waiting to see if Crane knows more.

Of course, he does. He’s in Arkham, not living under a rock. The Bat gains a new sidekick and everyone knows about it. Crane is only taking a guess the new sidekick also was a Titan based on when you showed up and your close proximity with Robin, himself. He saw Jason’s hesitance on his face. The fear.

Crane chuckles softly. “Aren’t you missing someone, pal?” Crane asks, almost a little too warmly. “Could have sworn there was one more.”

Jason grits his teeth and he’s so sorry.

When he came up with this plan, he had a feeling Crane would want information. He came prepared for it. Part of that preparation was leaving you the hell out of it. Not you. Crane can’t know about you. Anyone but you. But he does know. He already knows you're a Titan and he already knows you work for Bruce. Jason has no choice if he wants the formula. And he is so sorry.

Jason says your name with bitterness on his tongue. “Bluejay. She doesn't really like the name thing though.” Jason answers.

Crane has a soft smile. “She’s the new bird. So many of you are birds.” Crane chuckles. “I do find it interesting you would try to leave her out of it. She’s the new edition to Batman. Let me guess,” Crane boasts around his cell. “Your girlfriend.”

Not you. You've done everything you can to save him and help him. He loves you. Not you. Anyone but you.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just friends.” He bites the words because maybe Crane doesn’t know for sure you’re together and he wants you at arm's length.

“If you want the formula, you really shouldn’t lie to me.” Crane has a sinister smile. “You wouldn’t leave her out of it if you were just friends.” Crane lets the words fall with ease.

He’s so fucking sorry.

“Yeah, okay fine. Girlfriend.” Jason spits.

He knows you’ll never forgive him if you find out. You can’t tell Molly anything but he’s here telling Crane everything. You're going to hate him. But he needs a cure. He can’t feel this way forever. He can’t do it. He doesn't think he’ll be able to live like this anymore.

“Ah, young love.” Crane smiles with that shrug of his shoulders. You're going to be an interesting obstacle in this one. He’s already trying to protect you from this. Crane knows he needs to break that bond as fast as he can if he wants this plan to work. “I want to know about her.” There’s this look that crosses Crane’s eyes and Jason almost turns around.

But he doesn’t.

“Why? She’s not with the fucking Titans and she hates Bruce. She works with him because of me. That’s it. She got a suit out of it and a place to stay.”

“I’m a bit of a romantic, myself. Love stories are cute. Always having someone on your side, through thick and thin. It is quite romantic, don’t you think? If we’re going to work together, I want to know why she’s so important to you.” Crane grins. “You can trust me, boy. We want the same things and the way the Bat has treated you…it’s so cruel. But I, I believe in you. That’s why I’m helping you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You're going to kill him. Guilt chews at his limbs. His jaw squares and he thinks swallowing his own teeth would be easier than this. But he has to. Maybe Crane is being sincere. Jason thinks he is. At least enough. Maybe if Jason tells him enough, Crane will see you aren’t a problem. Maybe he’ll see you would side with them. You want Gotham to be better, you don’t agree with Bruce’s ways. Maybe Crane will understand. He’s helping Jason, maybe he can help you. You're scared, too.

“Dick found her.” Jason answers reluctantly. “She joined the Titans. We went after Deathstroke together. Got kidnapped and dropped from the skyscraper. Dick saved her. CADMUS attacked her, Gar, and Conner when I was gone. Dick left them alone when shit hit the fan. CADMUS left her for dead. So, she came back to Gotham.” Jason explains.

“She was there with Deathstroke.” Crane lets out a sigh and like Bruce, in a way, he can always tell when someone could need him. Someone who’s been traumatized. His intentions aren’t as pure as Bruce’s. “But Dick saved her and not you. Did you save her?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jason shakes his head. “Dick tried to save me first and dropped me. Then he saved her. But yeah,” Jason nods. “I protected her and she did the same shit for me.”

“The two of you went through something so traumatic together. That really must have brought you closer. It’s not as romantic as I was hoping for but it is quite nice.” Crane grins. “She has powers, doesn’t she?”

“Acid generation.” Jason stares, leaving out the combat clairvoyance and the possibility of you having sharp shooting abilities. Two things Crane can’t prove Jason lied about.

“Now that is interesting. Does she know you’re here right now? Asking for my help?”

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “Look, she’s got nothing to with this shit. But, I can get her on our side. The other Titans targeted me for all types of shit I didn’t do and she was the only one on my side. She’s not a fucking problem. I can handle her.”

Crane grins and that’s all he needs. Jason is already hiding something huge from you. The distrust will be there and Jason doesn’t know Crane’s whole plan. If it goes the way he thinks it will, it’ll break your relationship. He will have no one left besides Crane. Exactly how he wants it. So, he decides he’ll let Jason think he believes this whole thing and moves back to the Titans.

“I do hope you’re right.” Crane sighs. “Tell me everything that happened in San Fransisco, with all of the Titans.”

Jason lets out a sigh before he spills every piece of information. He tells him everything from Trigon to Deathstroke to CADMUS. He tells him about the Titans turning on him for something he didn’t do, you talking him off the roof. Dick's confession and Donna’s death. Everything.

Then he tells Crane everything he knows about Bruce. The manor, the Batcave. Everything. He tells Crane about his training and the cabin, how Bruce found him and how Bruce found Dick. He spills and Crane lets him talk. Crane listens a lot but asks questions where he finds needed but he mostly just lets Jason talk as Jason keeps you out of it as much as he can. Jason is far more cooperative when it comes to everyone else.

Crane figures once he figures out the formula, he can get more information on you and use it against him if he needs to. He can’t have anyone if this is going to work and Crane knows exactly how he’ll be able to accomplish it. But for now, it’s about the Titans and Bruce. By the time Jason finishes, he’s got the formula tucked away in his pocket, ready to let fear go.

Jason pulls his phone from his pocket once he’s far enough away from Arkham. He’s spent the walk running over every lie he could tell you. Guilt eats at him with every step he takes. You're gonna kill him. He’s gonna lie to you because he knows for a fact, you’ll freak out. You’ll think he’s gone off the deep end and you’ll tell Dick. You’ll drag him kicking and screaming out of Gotham. You’ll tell Arkham and he won’t be able to see Crane again. It’s not fair and it’s not right. But you can’t know. And a part of him finds that to be unfair, too because he’s gonna fix his fear while you have to suffer with yours. That’s not fair to you. So, he thinks.

Maybe he can figure out a way to bring it up without bringing it up. Maybe he can try to see how you’d feel about a way to get rid of fear. If you seem for it, then he can tell you. He can see if you want to help. But the more he thinks about that, the more he thinks about Crane.

You’d have to be involved with him. Jason doesn’t want you involved with him. Not him. And he knows, the second he tells you about Crane, you’ll lose it. Even if you want a cure-all. You’ll bail the second you hear about Crane. You would never work with a guy like that. So, he has no choice. It’s that or end it and he doesn’t want to do that either.

“Hey.” Jason says as you pick up the phone.

“Jay? Where are you? I’ve been texting you to make sure you were okay.” He can hear your worry and he thinks maybe the anti-fear drug will make him not worry. Maybe you don’t want to worry so much.

“I’m sorry.” Jason clears his throat. “I needed to clear my damn head. I’m fine. Can you come get me, please?”

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?” You answer and Jason can hear you rustling on the other end.

“I’ll text you the address.” Jason states. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” You hang up and get to your feet while Jason texts you the address.

When you reach Jason, he’s soaked. Your heart aches, feeling like it’s being squeezed right through your rib cage at the sight of him. He looks exhausted and lost. He looks distant and he is drenched from the winter rain. Something bad happened and you have no idea how you're going to be able to help.

You take off your helmet, not getting off the bike. “Jay, are you okay?”

Jason gets up from the curb and walks up to you, offering you a fake smile. “Yeah.” His jaw clenches and he doesn’t even want to go home. He doesn’t want to see Bruce. He’d rather be outside in the cold. “All good.”

“What happened?” You reach out but Jason dodges you, reaching for his helmet. A lump grows in your throat. He doesn’t dodge you. Not like that.

“Bruce took Robin away.” Jason’s voice cracks as he shakes his head.

He dodges your stare. He doesn’t want to see the look you’ll give him. On the one hand, he’ll feel guilty. He’ll feel guilty for lying and talking to Crane. And on the other, you’ll give him a look that screams pity and that is the last thing he needs. Jason Todd doesn’t need anyone’s pity.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“Like fucking permanently. He said I can’t be Robin anymore.” Jason lets out a bitter scoff as he feels the anger come back to his bloodstream.

“Jay, I’m so sorry.” You say softly.

You never thought Bruce would take it away like that. Jason has been doing everything Bruce asked him to do. Ever since the Pete Hawkins thing, Jason has backed off entirely. He is putting a real effort into therapy, really trying to let the process help. Why would Bruce rip it away from him?

“Fuck him. I’m gonna fucking show him he’s wrong. He's fucking wrong about me.” Jason grits his teeth.

“He is.” You nod your head. “Come on. Let’s get you home and warm and we can talk more, okay?”

“Whatever.” Jason scoffs, popping his helmet on before he gets on the back and holds onto you while you drive back to the manor.

You get Jason back to the manor and into a warm shower. He says almost nothing. It’s as if he’s completely numb and it breaks you to see him like this. Jason is anything but quiet in a shower with you, usually. And he’s always handsy and cheeky. But, tonight, he’s just quiet, going through the motions, stuck on his own head.

You don’t understand how Bruce could take Robin away like that. It’s not fair. Jason does what Bruce asks him to and he messes up sometimes but that’s normal. How does he not see Robin is the most important thing to him? You even told him that. And he took Robin anyway. He never should have let him be Robin in the first place if this was something that could happen. Dick almost killed someone and he didn’t take Robin from Dick. Jason tries his best. Why isn’t that good enough for Bruce?

Dick was always right about him.

Jason plops onto your bed, his eyes red and puffy. His heart feels like it’s being crushed by cinderblocks. It all hurts. How did he really let another person down? How was he fooled into believing Bruce was different than everyone else? He thinks about his dad. His dad wasn’t a good person but Jason, sometimes, wonders if it was him. Maybe it was his fault his dad was like that. Maybe it was different before him. His dad didn’t choose to be his dad. But Bruce chose it. And still is giving up on him. Jason is Bruce’s son by choice, he thought the choice of picking a son, would make it different. But it’s the same old story Jason hates retelling.

He fucks up and people give up.

“Want me to rub your back while you tell me about it?” You offer as you stand in between his legs, looking down at him.

Jason looks up at you and you always worried so much. He wishes he could be better so you wouldn’t worry about him. He wonders why you choose him. You don’t have to, like Bruce. But you do. He wonders if one day you’ll stop. If his mom and his dad and his uncle and Dick and Bruce all chose other things over him, why wouldn't you? But he looks up at you and you give him this soft smile with your fingertips brushing his knees with care and he thinks you're still different than everyone else.

Jason cracks a soft smile. “Yeah, actually. Thank you.”

“Of course.” You smile softly.

Jason switches to his stomach, facing the TV just as you did the first day you started your friends-with-benefits situation. You sit on top of him and run your hands over his back. Your hands are cold, sending goosebumps up his spine. Your hands are always cold, something he always finds a bit ironic given the acid generation warms your hands. But your fingers are soft as you trace over the scars on his back. You do it every time and he always meant to ask.

“Why do you do that?” Jason asks, his eyes closed with his head on his hands.

“Do what?” You ask as you start rubbing his shoulders.

“Trace the scars.”

“I dunno.” You shake your head and you didn’t realize you did it often enough for him to notice.

You're not even sure why you do it. It’s something mindless. Maybe it’s your subconscious wishing if you trace them enough times, it’ll remove the damage the scars have caused him, like a magic eraser. Or maybe tracing the scars is confirmation he’s real.

Sometimes, you have a hard time believing he’s real. All of this is real. You used to dream of a life outside of the basement, sometimes they’d feel so real you could swear they were. Wishful thinking.

Maybe you trace them as confirmation that the raised and paled skin is real, Jason is here with you and you're not dreaming. Maybe you like the way the scars look on his skin but he managed to pull through all of his terrible shit and make it out the other end with a smart mouth and a heart of gold anyway. Maybe, you just do it because you care about him regardless of the scars and what made them.

“Does it bother you?” You ask softly.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just wondering.”

It always makes him feel vulnerable, a harsh reminder he is not invincible as much as he likes to believe he is sometimes. He might have survived those injuries but they’re there as harsh reminders. And you touch them and he thinks maybe you find comfort in them, because you have them, too. And that’s always enough for him. He thinks it makes him feel human and real and alive. He always feels a little exposed but it’s become comforting with you.

“What happened?”

He thinks he has his lies in order. He knows he might be sabotaging the relationship. Despite everything he thinks as you massage over the scar on his back, he knows. He knows you might not forgive him. There’s always a chance you won’t be so understanding when you inevitably find out because you always figure him out. But it's a risk he has to take.

He can’t keep doing this anymore. He can’t keep not sleeping. He can’t keep shaking and freezing. He can’t keep living like this. He knows he can’t. It’ll destroy him. It’ll be miserable. The idea of going back to being useless and not good enough and a disappointment, he can’t live like that. He needs help now, before Bruce finds his replacement. Maybe you’ll understand that part.

“He fucking said he made mistakes and I guess I’m fucking one of them.” Jason scoffs from under you.

You narrow your eyes thinking Bruce didn’t actually say that. You have no faith in Bruce to communicate worth a shit given your conversation with him and given Jason and Dick. And Bruce might be very good at hiding his emotions, but you know he actually cares about Jason. You don’t think Bruce would ever tell Jason he was a mistake, even if he thought it.

“He said that?” You ask, pausing for a few seconds.

“Basically!” Jason groans. “And he doesn’t want to make more mistakes and he said I can’t be Robin anymore. He thinks I’m a fucking mental case. He doesn’t care it’s important to me. He doesn’t care that I’m doing what he wants me to. It doesn’t matter to him. It’s fucking bullshit.” Jason’s voice shakes as his back tenses under your palms.

“That’s not fair. I don’t know why he would do that. You were always a great Robin.” You say softly.

You wish you could have heard the conversation so you would know better what to say. But, you also know, even if Bruce didn’t say any of that and it came out wrong, it wouldn’t change anything for you to decipher it for him. At the end of the day, Bruce could have outright told Jason he loves him and he doesn’t want him to die and Jason would still be absolutely crushed with Robin being ripped away from him. Bruce’s delivery of the message doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.

“Just fucking tired of being scared.” Jason lets out a defeated sigh. “Fucking gave up on me. Ya know, thought he was fucking different.” His voice is etched in pain and you wish you could take it all away. He never deserves the pain he gets.

It’s honest. He can be honest with you about that. Maybe he wants you to figure it out.

“Yeah, I get it. Being scared really sucks. You’ll get better though. I know I keep saying it but it takes time, Jay. Bruce should be giving you more time.” You say. “I’m really sorry about him.” You lean down and press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “You still have me, okay?”

He knows. He’ll always have you. Somewhere inside of him, he knows. The anxiety of you freaking out and leaving when you figure it out is there, but he also knows he’s given you every opportunity to take off and run. And you never do. You’d understand his desperation. You'd understand why he lied. He knows he still has you.

“What if there were a cure for fear?” Jason asks and he’s glad you can’t see his face. You’d know.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow.

“What if there was a cure? Like we can just take it and not be scared anymore.” Jason listens carefully, feeling your hands pause on his back. He knows without looking that you've got your right eyebrow raised at him, your eyes narrowing at him as if you can’t decide if he’s joking or serious.

“I mean that’d be great, but there would be consequences, right?” You question.

You're a little concerned with the question. But, that’d be insane. It’d be insane for him to really look for a cure to fear. You swear he’s just talking, doing one of his hypothetical talks he does like you do about the zombie apocalypse.

“Like what? Being fearless sounds pretty fucking good right about now.” Jason scoffs.

“We’ll, fear is just adrenaline, right? But that fear also keeps you looking both ways before crossing the street, it alerts you when someone is following you home. Without fear, also means you won’t have excitement. You’ll probably be emotionally numb to a lot of things. Not having adrenaline is dangerous though.” You answer.

“Yeah, but isn’t that fucking better than being scared all the damn time? You’re afraid of everything, too and your nightmares are back. You wouldn’t want something to stop it?” Jason looks over his shoulder.

Your nightmares came back a week and a half ago. You and Molly were on a walk and ran into Jerry’s Gotham house. You still don’t know how you missed it, but you did. You were walking and having a good time and you saw the house and that was it. You broke and it’s like all of the progress you made over the last few months evaporated into the atmosphere. Molly had to call Jason because you were having a panic attack and couldn’t snap out of it. The nightmares came back that night.

“Of course, I would.” You shrug.

You think about it and maybe it would be nice. If nothing else, just so you could get some damn proper sleep. So, you both could get some proper sleep. Maybe if you both got some sleep, you’d be better. Maybe Jason makes a good point but then you think about how happy you are when you see him and when a new movie comes out and your marathons with Gar. You wouldn’t want to trade those feelings for being fearless.

“But not if it means getting rid of everything else. Adrenaline also keeps us alive. I’ve been numb and that’s worse than being scared. Why?” You ask. “You trying to find a cure to fear or something?”

“No.” Jason scoffs, letting out a fake laugh and he was really hoping you’d be on his side with this one. “Just fucking saying, wish there were a cure. At least so I can be Robin.”

“Look, it sucks, Jaybird. But I don’t think the answer to being Robin is being fearless. You had to use that fear to survive out there, too. You’re gonna be okay and then you can go out and be your own hero. You don’t have to be Robin. Dick quit and became Nightwing. You don’t need Bruce to help people.” You say. “And I still think you’re plenty good enough. I’m just saying, if Bruce won’t let you, do it yourself when you get better. You’re good enough.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason sighs. “Maybe you’re right but he doesn’t believe in me anymore.” Jason says and you know it’s never your approval he’ll need. And that’s okay but you wish sometimes, like tonight, it were enough. “I’m gonna prove him wrong.”

“Good, fuck Bruce.” You smile softly. “Just…give it a little bit, okay? Keep seeing Leslie, too. She’s been helping.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jason huffs.

“I’m serious, Jason. You do sleep more now. Seeing her is helping, just keep up with it. And then we’ll go out together. Fuck Bruce. We’ll be our own team.” You let out a soft chuckle.

“Thanks.” Jason lets out a sigh.

You make good points but his mind is made up. He’s going to do this. He doesn’t have time to wait around and hope for the best. He isn’t going to Leslie. He’s going to make the anti-fear drug and he won’t be scared anymore. Maybe you're right. Maybe he’ll be numb to everything but he doesn’t care anymore. He is desperate for a cure. He needs it. Maybe he can only use it to be Robin, just to prove himself. It’ll be a quick fix and that’ll be the end of it. Just use it out there and to sleep. You make good points, but he has to do this. And he is so sorry he has to lie about it.

Jason turns from under you so he can face you and you place your hands on his chest. You have a soft smile and he feels so guilty but you’ll understand. You’ll get it when he can function better, it’s just until this whole shit wears off. You’ll get it. If anyone will, it’ll be you.

“Thanks for not giving up on me.” Jason places his hands on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing softly against your bare skin.

“You and me.” You smile softly.

“Yeah.” Jason smiles looking at the necklace hanging from your neck. You haven't taken it off since he gave it to you. “You and me.”

“You okay?” Your voice is filled with love as you ask. No one ever asked like that before.

“Yeah.” Jason answers simply. “Just glad you’re here.”

“You sure? I’m really worried about you.” Your brows knit together. “You know I’ll always be here. No matter what.”

“I’m not gonna walk off a roof, I swear.” Jason’s eyes widen as a grin tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Good. I just know this is bad for you. I just hope you believe me because I believe in you.”

Jason sits up and places his fingers under your chin. “Thanks. Look, I’ll be fucking fine. Trust me. I got a plan.” Jason offers you a grin.

“That’s still mildly unsettling coming from you.” You smile. “What’s the plan?” You widen your eyes as your hands come to his shoulders, a teasing smirk coming to your lips.

“You’ll see.” Jason drops his hand to your waist.

“Oh, you’re not gonna tell me?” You laugh.

“What’s that you always say?” Jason teases. “We don’t always get what we want.” And he says your name, it comes out a little groveled but his voice is teasing.

“Shut up.” You groan.

“Do you trust me?” Jason asks as his hands squeeze your hips softly.

“Of course, I do. You know I do.” You answer.

“Trust me then. I got a plan. I’ll be back out there and proving everyone else wrong.” Jason holds his head with confidence.

You raise a brow at him. “Why do I have a bad feeling about that?” Jason and plans aren’t always a bad combination but he is desperate and hurt right now. You remember the last plan he had when he felt this way.

“Don’t. I got this. Like you said, I’ll be fine.” Jason presses a kiss to your lips.

“Right yeah, you will be.” You let out a sigh and you think it can’t be that bad. He’d tell you. “Okay. You’ll tell me through, right?”

“Of course, you and me.” Jason gives you a wild grin.

He hopes you won’t be mad.

The next day, Jason rents an apartment and sets up to work on making the anti-fear drug. ?You had plans with Molly anyway and that was the perfect excuse for him to get here all by himself to get to work. Plus, Bruce had to go out of town so that's one less person he has to worry about.

He feels guilt gnawing at his stomach like a bad stomach ulcer. But he works anyway. He works through it because this is the only way. And even if he wanted to back out, he already told Crane everything. If he wanted to back out, Crane could use that information against him. But, he doesn’t want to back out anyway, so he pushes the guilt and anxiety away as he puts together a botched drug.

You grow suspicious over the next few days. Jason is making weird and random excuses not to hang out. He’s always trying to get you to hang out more with Molly or for you to head to Excellent Gotham and get to know Tim better. You always need more friends, apparently. Normally, you wouldn’t think too much of it. Or you’d be worried he was distancing himself to leave. But it’s Jason and he’s definitely hiding something, so you follow him one day.

Your phone rings as you hide in the alley beside the building Jason walked into.

“Hello?” You ask.

“Why are you following me?” Jason asks.

He caught onto you following him a few blocks from the apartment he’s been using. He was Robin and a street kid, he knows when someone is following him. And he feels bad about it. For you to follow him, you have to be really worried. He doesn’t track you unless you get kidnapped and you don’t track him on his phone. You don’t follow each other. But you are. And he needs to find a way to assure you.

“I—“ You pause. “I-I’m not following you.” You scoff.

“Yeah, you are.” Jason states as he walks through the opposite end of the alley.

“Why do you think that?” You raise, crossing your arm across your chest.

“I can see you.” Jason answers, pulling the phone away from his ear as you jump, turning around to see Jason.

To be fair, you should have known he'd figure it out. But, you tried to be subtle and keep a far enough distance away from him. You put in a lot of effort. He's just more vigilant than you are, apparently.

“Oh, hey, Jay.” You give him a cheeky smile with a nervous laugh. “Whatcha doing?”

You might be following him. You might be figuring it out a little sooner than he'd personally like. But, he does find it a little cute. And a little amusing you really thought Jason wouldn't figure it out.

“Walking, what’re you doing, babe?” Jason quips, closing the rest of the distance between you.

You sigh in defeat. “Following you.”

Jason lets out a hearty laugh. “No shit. Why?”

“You’ve been…weird, sneaking around. Worried about you.” You groan as you scrunch your nose.

He's really not trying to worry you. He doesn't want you to worry about him anymore. Even if you would be completely against an anti-fear drug, a part of him thinks maybe if he has it, you won't have too many reasons to worry about him anymore. The way Jason sees it, he was always better off with less fear. Maybe the drug helping him, will help you. In a roundabout way.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m just working on something, alright?” He’s giving you that toothy grin that is always trouble.

“Right…that’s not nearly as reassuring as you think it is.” You quip back, the smile falling short.

“It’s a surprise, alright? Don’t worry so much.”

“A surprise?” You raise a brow.

“A surprise.” Jason echoes and it’s not technically a lie. “You said you trust me.”

“I do.” You groan. “I’m sorry. You just never sneak around. It’s weird, even for you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek and maybe you're being paranoid. You've always been a little on the paranoid side, especially since Jerry. And the paranoia decided to come back in full force with the nightmares. Maybe you're just paranoid, more worried about losing him. Things have been good, between you at least, you always get scared when things are good for too long.

Jason puts his hands on your shoulders. “I’m fine, babe. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Promise?” You ask.

“Promise.” Jason nods.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking his arms off of your shoulders and holding his right hand. “Just…whatever you’re up to, be careful.”

“Always.” Jason beams, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You sigh, kissing him softly.

“Love you.” Jason grins, walking past you.

“I love you, too.” You watch him walk off and you really have a bad feeling about this one. But you can’t follow him and you have no reason not to trust him. So, you let him walk as you head back the way you came.

The next day, Jason gets the formula right. He uses an inhaler to take it and every fear he has ever had, melts away. It works. He did it. He got his cure to fear. So, he heads back to Arkham, high on the drug to confirm to Crane he got it despite the shotty formula.

And Crane already had a plan in motion. He had a feeling Jason would figure it out. So, he set up a plan and it’s time for the plan to go into motion so they can make Gotham theirs. Crane needs Jason to prove it works. What better way than to have him face off with the Joker alone? That’ll surely prove it. But, what Jason doesn’t know, is that Crane knows the downside to life without fear. Of course, he does. He’s the expert in it. Crane already has someone on the outside ready to handle it when this does not go the way Jason thinks it will. But is it perfect for Crane, another thing to hold over Jason’s head to control him.

And Jason doesn’t see the motive. So, Crane tells him to go after the Joker to prove it works and prove to the Bat he can do this. Jason doesn’t need Bruce. He can take care of the Joker all by himself. Jason, lacking all apprehension and self-preservation thanks to the drug, agrees easily. He’s not scared of him.

That next night, Jason convinces you to run out to the store. You were talking about needing some supplies for your scrapbook. You're reluctant at first, but decide to go. It’ll be quick. And Jason gets to work tracking the Joker.

But, with Jason at home, something just does not feel right to you. You make it all the way to the store, hoping the feeling will it go away, but it doesn't. So, you decide to call Molly, maybe Molly can talk you down.

“Hey.” Molly chimes through the phone.

“Hey, you busy?” You ask as you sit on the bike outside of the store.

“No, what’s up?”

You pause. It’s eating at you. Jason was weird as fuck last night when he came home and he’s been weird today. Convincing you to go to the store was weird. Him not coming with is also weird. And you have that feeling in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have left.

“You….uh, I don’t know. I think I’m having a bad feeling so I just…need to talk I think.” You shake your head, the helmet weighing on your head a bit.

“What’s going on? Where’s Jason?” Molly asks.

“Home.” You answer. “I went to the store, he didn’t wanna come.”

“Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good. Not, uh, not what I wanted to talk about actually.”

“What’s going on?”

“Uh…do you…you know when something bad is gonna happen like really bad and you just….get this feeling? Like…right in the center of your stomach?”

You think you're being paranoid. It only happened once when your mom died. But since Jerry, you're always paranoid and the feeling comes back. Sometimes it’s wrong. Sometimes, it’s just you being paranoid. And you know that’s what this has to be because what could possibly happen to Jason at the manor?

“Yeah.” Molly nods her head because it happened with her mom. She just knew. “You have that feeling?”

“Yeah…I don’t know. Sometimes it's wrong. But it just…I don’t know. Feels bad.” You let out a sigh.

“When did it start?”

“Right before I left. Like, I got on the bike and I just….I don’t know. I think I’m gonna go home.” You shake your head and you can go home. You can always come back tomorrow.

“Are you sure? I mean...what if it’s a coincidence? Two’s a coincidence.” Molly tries to assure you.

“Yeah, I know but….what if it’s not? Can you stay on the phone with me while I get back?” You just can’t do it. It’s not a big deal.

“Yeah, of course.” Molly nods her head and you start the bike, taking off back to the manor. “What do you think it is?” Molly asks, mostly to talk you down.

“I don’t know.” You answer. “Jason’s been acting weird lately. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s not….he’s…something’s off with him and I don’t know why I came. He told me to and maybe I listen to him a little too much sometimes. He said he was fine but I don’t know. I got a real bad feeling.” You groan.

“How far are you from the manor?”

“Like twenty minutes.”

“Well, if something is going on, you’re not that far and you haven’t been gone long. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble.” Molly tries to assure you but it doesn’t work.

The more you talk, the more paranoid you get. You know Molly is right. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble in the last half hour. But you worry anyway.

“Yeah, hey, can you conference him in? Just…give me some piece of mind before I get back.”

“Yeah, of course.” Molly states as she pulls the phone away from her ear and adds Jason to the call. The two of you listen as the phone rings and rings and rings. And then goes to voicemail.

“Fuck.” You let out a scoff as panic starts to flood your system.

“Maybe he’s--”

“No, he’d answer if it were you while I’m out. Call again.” You state and Molly does as told, getting voicemail again. You shake your head and you pull the throttle back, kicking the bike into third.

“Slow down.” Molly urges. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he’s just in the bathroom.” Molly says as she hears the bike rev further.

“He’d answer. I know he would. Double calls. He would because why would you call him twice in a row unless it were important?” You argue.

You're begging for you to be wrong. You hope against everything in your body you're wrong. This one time, you have to be wrong.

“Okay, so what do you think is going on?” Molly asks.

“I don’t know!” You groan. “That’s the problem. I have no idea what’s been going on with him. I followed him a few days ago and he brushed it off. Like it was no big deal but he was sneaking around behind my back. He said he was planning something or some shit. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”

“You don’t think he’s like cheating--”

“No! Of course, not. He would never. I….” You bite your tongue because Molly doesn’t know about Robin. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s been doing but now he’s not answering. And I got this feeling. Hold on I’m at a stop light.” You groan, quick-dialing Jason as you watch the red light. The two of you listen as it goes to voicemail. And you try again. Voicemail. “Something’s wrong.” You say as the light turns green and you start weaving between cars.

“Because he’s not answering and you have a feeling? You sound paranoid.”

“I know.” You grit your teeth. “But he’d answer for me. I know he would. Especially calling him twice. He’d answer. I just...remember a few weeks ago when he got his ass kicked?”

“Yeah.” Molly wishes she could forget.

“Okay, so what if he went out on his own to try that guy again or something?” You spit, avoiding details about Robin because you're thinking he’s out Robining alone for some sort of spite against Bruce. He’s still mad. And maybe he froze and it got bad.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s Jason.” You let out a breath.

You get back to the manor, switching the call to your phone instead of your helmet. You make your way into the manor and call for Jason. The manor is silent. It’s not even like that’s abnormal. Jason isn’t really loud and neither is Bruce. But, the quiet and lack of Jason answering is eery and unsettling.

You search your rooms and living rooms and kitchens. He’s nowhere to be found and your heart sinks further. So, you go to the Batcave. Hoping maybe, he’s just training. Maybe Molly is right. Maybe he’s just busy. Maybe his phone died and he didn’t realize it. That’s possible. It’s Jason. He isn’t the type that’s glued to his phone. Maybe.

But that hope dies as you reach the Batcomputer, seeing Amusement Mile pulled up with the Joker’s location.

No, no, no, no.

“I’m sure he went out and he’ll be--”

“Fuck!” You yell as you look to the display case. The Robin suit is gone.

Molly calls your name and now she’s worried.

“What a fucking---” You cut yourself off as you grit your teeth. “Molly, I gotta go.”

“Molly yells your name, her voice now completely panicked.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll call you. I have to call Bruce.” You rush as you hang up, running over to your own display case holding your suit. You rip the case open and grab the suit as you put Bruce on speaker. “Bruce!?” You yell into the phone as you jump around, getting the suit on as fast as you can.

This can’t be happening. The Joker? Of all fucking people, that’s who he decides he’s going to go after to prove himself? Why the hell would he ever do that? You try your best not to focus on the millions of questions you have for him and the fact you're ready to scream at him for the twenty-four hours. You have to focus because it’s the fucking Joker. He’s taken too much from you.

Bruce can hear the absolute panic in your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jason! I fucking told you! He went after the fucking Joker!” You scream into the phone as you zip the front of your suit and put the mask over your mouth.

“I told him not to.” Bruce says calmly, but a part of him is panicking.

Bruce doesn’t panic but there is no way you would be calling him and telling him this if it weren’t true. Jason knows better. Why would he go after the Joker? On his own?

“Oh, because Jason is so fucking good at following instructions?!” You run over to the weapons once you're completely suited up.

On the one hand, Bruce could send you after him. That’s at least, two against one. But, it’s the Joker. And Bruce knows he’s more ruthless than anyone. It’s a fun game to him like whack-a-mole. And the prize is always bloodshed. He also knows how you feel and if he sends you, not only could you go out and get killed but you could kill him first. That’s a life on Bruce’s conscious.

“Do not go anywhere. I’m on a flight—“

“No! You don’t get to tell me to fucking sit here and hope for the fucking best. He is everything to me and I am not gonna sit here and let him get fucking killed, Bruce!” You seeth and the Joker should have been killed a long fucking time ago. You swear, if the Joker even lays a single finger on him, you’ll do it her damn self. Bruce is too much of a coward of what he could become if he did it. You don’t care. “The Robin suit is gone, the Joker is gonna fucking kill him and it’s all your fault!” You scream as you gather knives.

“Stay put.” Bruce is stern on the other line. “It will be dangerous and you aren’t prepared--”

“No! Fuck you!” You snip back, gathering as many knives as you can carry. “I’m gonna save him, kill the damn Joker since you’re too damn cowardly to do it and then I’m calling Dick.” You fume on the other end. “I’m gonna beg him if I have to to come and bring us back to San Franciso because fucking clearly, he’s worse off here!” You scream before hanging up the phone and heading towards the exit.

It’s not that he’s scared or even feeling uneasy. His head is clouded with a sense of nothing. Everything is just numb as he cuts the chain into the amusement park.

Jason should be scared and there’s a gnawing at the back of his head that is screaming and howling for him to be scared. To turn around. This is a bad idea. This is bad. There are red flashing lights begging him to turn around but that sense of adrenaline that would normally kick in and give him a little bit of common sense and self-preservation is being suppressed. It doesn’t exist. So, the normally loud and blinding lights that have been causing him so much pain over the last few months, aren’t loud enough. They’re useless.

As he walks further into the amusement park, he finds old and run-down games that grab his attention. This is the Joker’s hideout. It’s known. Of course, the maniac clown would like a closed amusement park. And Jason knows he should be hypervigilant. This is the Joker’s turf and he knows the Joker is here. But the drug keeps suppressing that, too.

He knows he should be more aware and more on guard but the drug gives him a false sense of confidence. He can do this. It’s the Joker. He’s just some crazy clown and if Bruce can take him down several times, Jason can do it. Bruce trained him, right? He knows better though. He should be scared and more aware. but then there’s a noise from behind him and he jumps anyway.

His heart skips before plummeting back into a resting rhythm as he spots a dead man with a creepy smile tugged on display. Jason’s eyes widen and there’s this small, tiny bit of fear that seems to bypass the anti-fear drug like a leaky faucet. And Jason starts to hear and see the red flashing lights in the back of his head in perfect color. But the point is that he isn’t supposed to feel fear at all.

Maybe his formula is a little off. How is he feeling any sense of fear? It’s barely there, barely even noticeable but it’s there enough where if he were in a normal state of mind, that alone would send him into a panic. He’d panic about being worried he’s going to panic. And that thought with the mixing of the drug, makes him miss the creeping steps of the Joker from behind him.

With a quick swing, a crowbar connects to Jason’s head and he’s sent right to the ground.

His head throbs and aches, a horrendous and shooting pain sending his head into a spin as his stomach turns. Blood drips down from his forehead, the warm liquid seeping down his cheek as he looks up to see the menacing and sadistic smile of the Joker looking down at him just as he pulls his arm back for another swing.

This swing connects with his jaw and Jason can hear the bone break. Jason’s mouth pools with blood, the taste of iron already becoming more nauseating. He groans out in agony as the Joker takes another hit to his head, his laugh echoing through the park.

His laugh rings through Jason’s ears with every blow and Jason thinks that laugh can penetrate any type of anti-fear drug. His hearing seems to get worse and worse but that laugh could pierce through solid steel. And he’s not supposed to be scared anymore.

But the Joker hits him again and Jason coughs up blood and fear starts to rush into his veins. Maybe it’s the overwhelming amount of adrenaline making the anti-fear drug wear off a lot sooner than it should. Maybe his formula needs to be tweaked. Maybe the anti-fear drug has a side effect, maybe it doesn’t work when he’s on the brink of death. Jason can’t think straight enough to figure it out. Instead, all he thinks is that he has never been more terrified than he is right now.

SMACK

WHACK

CRACK

Jason’s bones break as Joker takes a break from his face and works on his side and then his arms and legs. He swears this is the worst pain he has ever been in. The Joker hits him over and over and over again, the pain getting worse and worse as tears brim his eyes. He claws at the ground in desperation, a failing attempt to move away. But, the bones are being broken one by one and he can feel the shards with every movement. And he is so fucking sorry.

SMACK

He’s so sorry to Bruce because he should have listened. He should have been a better Robin. He should have listened. He’s so sorry he wasn’t better. He’s so sorry he wasn’t a better son. He tried his absolute best but he could have tried harder. Maybe he could have told Bruce what was going on. Maybe he could have told Bruce more about therapy. Maybe he could have explained anything that ever happened with him. Maybe he could have just tried to be a son. He’s so sorry and all he wants to do is tell Bruce he’s sorry. And thank you.

He wants to thank Bruce for trying. For taking him in. Letting him be his son and letting him be Robin. Bruce, in his weird way, cared about him and loved him. He tried even if he sucked at it sometimes. Jason wants to tell Bruce thank you.

SMACK

Jason screams as the crowbar finally shatters one of his ribs. His breathing is becoming ragged as the Joker takes another swing to Jason’s chest. The Robin suit offers a lot of protection but the Joker is relentless. He’s getting off on every scream and groan and gasp Jason lets out. It’s as if the sight of the blood seeping onto the ground and the backswing of splatter gets him off. He’s having the time of his life beating Jason to death. And Jason has never been more scared.

SMACK

He’s so scared and sorry. He’s so fucking sorry to you and he would give anything to tell you that right now. All he wants to do is call you. He wants to take it all back. He wants to go back home and crawl into your bed with you. He wants to hug you and kiss you and promise he’s doing okay and he’ll be okay. And you’ll be okay. He wants to promise you that it’ll all work out in the end, even if he doesn’t make it. He wants to tell you not to be mad or sad because he doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to dwell on his inevitable death.

You both knew it was going to be him. You liked to fool yourself into thinking maybe it would be you but at the end of the day, you both knew it would always be him. Jason always knew it was gonna be him who died first. And he wants nothing more than to promise you it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. He doesn’t want you to run yourself into the ground over him. But he knows you and he knows as the Joker takes another horrendous and agonizing hit to his skull, you’ll be miserable. This will be it for you. He’s not gonna make it and you're gonna lose your entire mind. You always said you would. And it’s all his fault.

SMACK

CRACK

He wants to shake you and tell you he’s so fucking sorry. He should have just told you what was going on. He should have told you. You would have helped him. You wouldn’t have been mad or yelled at him. Of all people, you would have understood why he went to Crane. You would have gotten it. You always understood him. And he should have told you.

He shouldn’t have lied to you. He’s so fucking sorry. And he’s so sorry for not loving you better, you deserve someone who’s not gonna do this. You deserve someone who’s not gonna get killed and didn’t even stand a damn chance. And he is so sorry he’s going to leave you alone.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna make it.

The Joker's laugh starts to sound further away as he takes another blow to the right side of his face, the crowbar connecting hard and steady against his ear. Then he can’t hear anything from that ear at all as blood starts to drip out. It’s the worst headache of Jason’s life. He can hear his skull cracking under the blows. He feels the blood seeping through his suit and onto the ground. There’s so much blood. He’s lightheaded and dizzy. It’s so hard to breathe.

SMACK

He’s not gonna make it.

And he finds himself, hoping against all odds, that someone will find him soon anyway. Maybe help will come just in time. Bruce is supposed to be the world’s greatest detective. Jason is his son. He’d figure it out. Maybe he already did and he’s actually close. Maybe he lied to Jason and he’s actually in Gotham and on his way. And maybe, you figured it out.

You're smart. You can fight off the Joker enough to get you both to safety. You were trained by Jason, Dick, Bruce. Jason believes you could do it. Maybe you're on your way. You're smart. You know Jason better than anyone. You’ll figure it out. You always figure it out. Maybe help is coming.

SMACK

Everything goes black for just a few seconds and then it’s blurry and shifted. He can’t see out of his right eye. Jason doesn’t know what’s going on as the Joker takes another smack. His laugh is just a reverberation now. The only sound he can even hear is the cracking of bones. Nothing else. And he doesn’t think he can breathe real well. He can’t move his jaw. He can’t even find the strength to try to move anymore. It all hurts and there’s so much blood.

Jason silently begs for the help he doesn’t realize will be too late just as the Joker takes a larger and harder blow to the front of his face.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to hold on.

You drive to the abandoned carnival, coming up on one of the gates. Jason’s bike and helmet are right outside and the chain to the gate has been cut. You know. You know this isn’t good. It’s completely silent and you are terrified.

Silence can’t be good and a part of you hopes that maybe the Joker wants to play with Bruce. Maybe the Joker wants to kill Jason in front of him, to taunt him, that’ll give you some time to have a plan and get you both out of there, maybe. Or Bruce could make it in time to save you both.

But you creep around the grounds, cautiously but quickly. You're paying close attention to your head, making sure you don’t miss it if the throbbing you're certain will start. But, it doesn’t. Instead, you reach an open tunnel with carnival games and there’s someone lying on the ground.

It’s dark and despite you knowing damn well if it were the Joker on the ground, Jason would be over him bragging and cheering for himself, you hope it’s the Joker anyway. You hope against everything that the person laying on the ground is the Joker.

The closer you get though, the more you get the picture of the yellow and black cape.

Jason.

“No…” Your lip quivers as you pause. You're terrified to get any closer. It can’t be Jason. It can’t be. It can’t be. It can’t be. He’s strong and smart. He knows better. “No, no, no, no…” Your voice cracks as you start to walk closer and you can see him now.

There’s blood everywhere. He’s laying in a puddle of red and there’s blood splatter on the ground and the games. A bloody crowbar is tossed to the side and Jason is completely still. Your heart is in your throat as you close the distance, dropping to your knees.

“Jay…” Your voice is a whimpered whisper as you put your hand on his shoulder, pulling him to face you.

His body is completely limp and as he turns, you get the gruesome sight of what the Joker has done.

Jason’s face is mangled and unidentifiable. You can see his teeth through his jaw while there’s blood and bruising around the other side of his face. His face is swollen and paler than usual. There’s blood smeared across his face and on his lips. Some of his hair is wet with blood and sticking to his forehead. And his eyes are closed, not even trying to open.

Your heart shatters in that instant. The weight of the world has been on your shoulders for years and with the sight of his body, the world finally falls. It tumbles around you, breaking into unfixable pieces. The foundation keeping you steady is lifeless and cold and bloody.

Your lip quivers as tears start to trickle down your cheeks. Everything around you feels heavy and cold. The lump in your throat is so big and hard, you swear it’ll suffocate you finally and you’ll finally be out of this misery. The reaper creeps back from the shadow of your head, a smile similar to Joker’s shining back at you and he’s finally won. He won in a way you never thought he would.

Killing the last good parts of you, by killing him.

“Jason…” You whimper, one of your hands hesitantly going to his neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. There’s no pulse, just cold skin under the blood. “No…” You whine, tears now blurring your vision. You lean down, trying to hear him breathe and there’s nothing. He’s completely still. No breathing. Nothing. Just lifeless. “Jay, please, you can’t die.” You let out a sob, pulling Jason’s body into your lap. “I love you. You can’t die. I need you.” Your words are slurred as your nose runs and the cries grow louder.

You sob, rocking back and forth. You knew it would happen. You knew. And you should have known Jason was up to something when he didn’t go with you today. You should have known. He can’t be dead.

You swallow the lump in your throat, moving to rest Jason’s head flat on the ground while you pull out your phone, hands covered in blood. You call Bruce, putting the phone on speaker and then you start CPR. You swear it’ll be useless but you have to try anyway.

You swore every single day that you would never give up on him. And CPR isn’t going to help, but fuck it, you're not going to give up. So, you try anyway. You have to fucking try.

“Did you find him?” Bruce asks as soon as he answers.

Those words get you to let out another cry, your arms shaking as you push down on Jason’s chest. “Bruce!” You scream as your arms tremble.

Everything stops for Bruce. Pain shoots through his heart like a barbed wire arrow. He knows. He knows that cry because he’s let it out himself all those years ago. He’s heard other people. Babs. Dick. He knows and yet, it can’t be true. Not his son.

“What happened?” Bruce shakes his head, using all of his willpower not to let his voice shake.

“What do I do?” You cry, your cries are loud but there’s a weakness in your voice. “He’s not breathing and the Joker beat him with a fucking crowbar! Bruce, what do I do?” You beg Bruce to help. Your voice is slurred and panicked, pleading with all of the energy in you. He’s fucking Batman, he has to help. “What do I do? He’s not breathing. There’s so much blood, Bruce, help, please. You have to save him. Help me save him, please. Bruce, I can’t lose him, I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.” You keep pumping on Jason’s chest but you swear it’s not working and not just because the Robin suit is so sturdy you're barely getting a compression in. You beg him and beg him, as if your pleas are enough to bring Jason back.

“I’ll send someone, keep doing CPR.” Bruce instructs with a square jaw.

“Bruce, I don’t…..I don’t think it’s helping.” You wail and you can’t breathe. It’s so hard to breathe. “I don’t think…..Bruce….” You let out a cough as your elbows shake and you're losing rhythm of the chest compressions.

“Keep going, don’t stop until they get there. I’m landing soon.” Bruce instructs and he never should have gone. He should have seen it. How the hell did he miss this?

“There’s so much blood…Bruce.”

Barbara Gordon and a few trusted people close to Bruce show up first. They find you still trying to perform CPR. You're slower now, and you're not getting the impact you need to make a difference. Your arms are weak and you're nearly hyperventilating and choking on your own tears.

The paramedics try their best to get you off of him but you scream and yell and cry for them to get off of you. You shove them off of you and you try and try and try. Bruce is still on the phone, telling you to let them do their job but you can’t. You can’t do it. You can’t because then you give up. You can’t give up on him. Not him.

“Hey.” Barabra wheels over a few feet away from you and she gets a look at the damage as her stomach turns and she knows he’s gone. “You need to stop.” Her voice is calm as she tries to keep it together.

“No!” You scream and you feel too weak to deal with any of it. He was your everything. “I can’t.”

The paramedics look at Babraba waiting to be told what to do and they know, too. His face is completely destroyed. He’s unrecognizable. The only reason Barabra even knows it’s Jason is because of the Robin suit. There’s brain matter on the ground. There’s more blood on the ground than there is in his body.

“Bluejay.” Barbara calls again, her voice cracking and this gets you to look at her. Even in the dark, Babara can see the redness of your eyes and the tears shining on the top half of your cheek above your mask. “He’s gone.” Babraba’s eyes go misty and you shake your head.

“No…” You whine and you finally stop but your hands stay on his chest. “No, not…no.” You let out a sob and you can’t even see Barbara anymore, the tears have blurred everything together. “I can’t.” You fall back, one of the paramedics catching you so you don’t hit the pavement too hard. The other paramedic jumps in and to Jason, just to be completely positive.

You shove the paramedic off of you and walk the few feet weakly to Barbara. “I-I…what--” You suck in a harsh breath, your breathing so rapid you feel like you're going to pass out.

“Sit down.” Barbara tries to keep her composure and you collapse with a loud sob, your entire chest feeling like it’s been set on fire with gasoline.

It can’t be him. Why him? He was good. He was a good person and funny and smart and kind. Jason had a heart of gold. Why did it have to be him? It never should have been him. He always deserved so much better. He never deserved this. This isn’t fair. It’s not right and it’s so fucking painful you wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Babs!” You scream. “I-I-I don’t I don’t wanna do it anymore.” Your teeth grit together as your words are wet and slurred.

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. It’s hard to breathe and your chest feels like it’s all caving in under the pressure. Maybe putting your heart in a pressure cooker would be less painful than this. Everything fucking hurts.

Barbara rests a hand on your shoulder and she knew Jason was reckless but she didn’t think he’d ever actually get himself killed. He was smart. Smarter than this. You cover your face with your hands, not caring you're covered in Jason’s blood. You just want everything to stop. The pain and the world and time and everything. You want it all to be over.

“I’m so sorry.” Barbara offers and there is nothing she can say that’s going to make this better.

“I can’t.” You spit and push Barabra’s hand off you before getting to your feet.

You push through the pain, running away. Barbara yells after you but you do not care. You make yourself run through the pain and the weakness. If you can do anything, it’s run from it. You want to run as far as your legs will let you. To the bike where you can speed away from it all. Speed so fast the pain goes away. The agony will fade if you run. You can do it. You tell yourself you can as tears fall down your face. You toss the helmet on and hop on the bike, and leave. You've always been good at running. You can run from it.

You're in the bathroom back at the manor, scrubbing the blood off of your hands through tears. Everything is blurry and painful. It’s burning and agonizing and stabbing. It aches and throbs. Breathing is the hardest thing you've ever done. You try to get in a full breath but every time you do, a sob immediately follows and it’s like the wind is knocked out from your lungs all over again. Your head is spinning with a throbbing headache and your eyes are so puffy you can barely open them. But, there’s blood staining your hands, Jason’s blood, and you have to get it off. You have to get it off.

Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.

You grit your teeth so hard that your jaw starts to pulse and you hate it. You hate this so much. You hate it and you want him back. You need him. He is everything to you. He is your everything. He is your best friend and you love him more than you've ever loved anyone. And he’s supposed to take care of you and you're supposed to take care of him. And it’s not fair and it’s senseless and it was brutal and you scream at the top of your lungs before falling to the floor. You lean against the counter, pulling your legs to your chest as you put your hands on your face because you can’t do this anymore

You talked about what life you could have together. And you swear you saw it. For the first time, you were optimistic about a future. Because you had him. He gave you all of this hope for the future because Jason could survive anything. He was supposed to survive anything. He was good at it. Dodging whatever fucked up shit the world was going to throw at him. And now he’s not. He didn’t dodge fast enough. And you were supposed to have an apartment one day together. And make dinner together. And have a dog and a cat because Jason always really liked cats. He’d come home and you’d clean up the blood and he’d do the same for you when patrol got a little messy. You were supposed to have a life together.

You don’t know how you're supposed to get up again after this.

And then Molly walks in.

She’s been crying since Bruce called her and asked her to check on you. He’s worried about what you might do and seeing you on the floor absolutely hysterical, she knows why. Of course, she knew it would be bad. Her best friend just lost the person she loves. Of course, you're going to be a mess but….you're covered in blood and Bruce didn’t tell her what happened. And on top of that, you still have the suit on, minus the mask, which is another surprise Molly did not expect to get today.

Molly says your name with hesitance as she walks in, sitting on the floor in front of you.

You look up, moving your hands. “M-Molly.” You whine, your bottom lip trembling, the hood of your suit barely lets Molly get a glimpse of your face that’s covered in blood as well.

Molly nods. “Bruce called.” Her voice is just above a whisper.

“He….Molly…h-h-he…d-di-died..” You let out a sob as you shake your head and you just want it to be done. You're so fucking tired.

“I know.” Molly lets out a soft cry, sniffling softly.

“H-he’s dead.” Your entire body jerks with another cry as you hang your head. You're so fucking tired. Tired of all of it.

“I know.” Molly closes the distance between you, pulling you into a hug and allowing you to completely break against her. And then Molly starts crying because Jason was her best friend, too. “I’m so sorry.” Molly manages to get out.

“I can’t do it.” Your voice is weak against her.

“Can’t what?” Molly pulls away, her hands still on your shoulders as if trying to stabilize you.

Any of it. You can’t do any of it. You're covered in his blood and it all hurts. You're weak and tired and exhausted. It’s all agonizing and paralyzing and numb. It’s all too much. And you just cannot do any of it anymore.

“Blood and…” Your breathing is labored, your head swaying slightly. And you're so lightheaded and nauseous. “Do this.”

“One thing at a time.” Molly stands up and grabs a wash rag, wetting it with soap and water. Molly can break later. You need help. “Let me see.” You hand your hand to Molly and Molly starts cleaning.

Molly expects to find some sort of wound but she finds nothing. The more she scrubs, the more blood comes off and it’s just your skin under it. And she shakes her head because what the fuck happened to Jason that got you covered in his blood? A part of her almost doesn’t want to know. But, she has to ask anyway. Bruce was a little vague. So, after a few minutes, with your cries becoming quieter, Molly decides to ask.

“C-can I ask you what happened?” Molly is seeing that you're actually one of the suited vigilantes that roam Gotham so she’s guessing something with a bad guy went a little south.

And you don’t care anymore. None of it matters anymore. Jason is dead. It’s not his secret anymore. You're in your suit anyway and Bruce isn’t home. You're all alone anyway.

“Joker beat him to death with a crowbar.” You answer plainly Molly feels her stomach turn.

“What?” Molly’s heart stops in her chest.

You nod as you sniffle, watching Molly clean the remainder of Jason’s blood from your hands. “He was Robin.” Your voice is hoarse as you talk.

Molly pauses, blinking at you and she’s so confused. And this whole thing is growing more and more unsettling. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

“He…Jason was Robin?”

You nod again, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“You found him?” Molly asks. Why did you have to find him? Of all people, it just had to be you. Of course, it was you.

“Yeah.” More tears start to fall from your eyes and you can see him every time you blink. That’s going to be your last memory of him and it hurts so fucking bad you want to leave.

“I’m…I’m sorry. Is this all his?” Molly’s voice grows a little panicked. She can’t even imagine the sight you walked in on.

“There was a lot of blood. The head bleeds a lot.” You clear your throat before you sniffle again.

Molly is terrified you're going to start giving her gory details. Not on purpose but because you're too tired to care. The crying is slowing down and that always means you will talk. You stop caring and then you talk. Molly doesn’t want to know and you don’t need to relive the horror verbally.

“Okay, um…okay you stay here. I’m gonna get you some clothes.” Molly stands up quickly.

“C-can you…Jsaon’s room, there’s a…maroon hoodie. It was his favorite.” You look up at her as Molly heads to the doorway.

“Yeah, I’ll be back.” Molly nods quickly.

You let out another cry and you don’t think you’ll be able to survive this one. It’s too heavy. It’s too much. There’s only so much one person can take. And you swear as you shiver on the bathroom door with broken sobs tearing up your throat that Jason Todd was your breaking point. Jason Todd is dead and you swear you’ll never recover.

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A/n: So, this is what Jason looks like in his death scene and he looks scared. Which, is probably a plothole because Titans (or them trying to throw us off since it's episode 1 ?? idk) but I decided I was just gonna use that anyway for fun lol Also fun fact, I was originally not going to include his death scene since we saw it in the show but then I rewatched UTRH and was encouraged by my best friend to make it worse so I did. And I'm really glad I included it lol I'm sorry but I really like how it turned out lol

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000

#jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

[behoright]

prisoner (love countdown series) | a. svechnikov

i can't forget you, your love is the loudest/ i can't control it

summary: part 5! lovestruck andrei messed around with you a little too much at the game before the roadie. also, the whole canes team just acting like dorks (bc they are)

wordcount: 3.1k

warnings: cursing. mentions of boobies and boners (lmao) idk if that is 18+ but if it is I repel all minors DONT READ this. thank u all for reading :’) reminder that I am not good at this I’m just really horny. heavier smut IS coming okay I just need this to start off as pg13 as possible because the later chapters could literally get me institutionalized

p.s.: this is the bra I thought you’d wear but you let your imaginations run wild okay https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1404/8101/products/Daisy_Bra_Front_e196baa3-10f0-42bc-94c5-89ad1312821b_1400x.jpg?v=1660696818

♩  ◦   ₪ ˚ 🗝️ ︵

“What’s going on with him?”. Andrei’s teammates stared perplexed at the young player, who was continuously shooting pucks into the net, hours before warm ups even started. “I haven’t seen Andrei this nervous since he first started out with us.” Martinook said. “You think he’s nervous? About what?” Brady asked. The rest of the guys turned to look at him.

“Y/N”. 

Pyotr and Andrei had undeniably become closer, since the young player had joined the Canes. Andrei had missed having full conversations in his native tongue on the daily, and he was glad to take someone under his wing as well, just as Dougie had done with him. Pyotr was aware of you, and he just couldn’t understand why Andrei had never brought you around. He said you had come to games before, but Pyotr had never seen you, and the others didn’t even know your name, less alone your existence.

At first, the rookie thought he was just sleeping with her - not important enough to introduce her to anyone. Just another girl. But as time went by, Andrei’s attention began to slip. He would tell stories of his “friend”, mention how much you liked this and that, tales from your classes, and after much asking, Pyotr finally got a name. 

Y/N. He said it quietly, with a blush, and changed conversation topics quickly. Suddenly he realized why he had never met her. Andrei really liked this girl, and that couldn’t be brought up, in any way, shape or form. Andrei would shoot him down so fast, Pyotr couldn’t believe it. He sure would tease his fellow teammate constantly, but he could tell that something deep down made Andrei… uncomfortable. Or anxious, antsy. Not the typical Andrei that he was so used to. So he left it alone. However, he knew what was really going through his friend’s head. 

“Trip. Nervous about trip. With girl.”. The boys immediately understood what he meant.

“He likes her?” Jarvy asked.

With a nod, Pyotr did his best to explain. “He…no talk. But, uh, he likes girl. A lot. Too shy”.

“Svech? Shy? There’s no way.” Sebastian chimed in.

“I’ve seen him out with a million girls - I wouldn’t describe him as shy, particularly. Cocky is a better word.” Neci snickered.

Pyotr threw his hands up - “Different. You see tonight.”

All the guys looked at each other, but before they could say anything, their heads bolted back to the young player on the ice. “You guys are going to practice with me? Or what?” he shouted, banging his stick against the glass closest to them. “I bet you cannot win 3v3 right now.” 

The guys all raised an eyebrow at Pyotr - there was no way anything could have shaken Andrei’s steady smugness, much less a girl. 

“You wait and see. Then you tell me” answered the rookie. 

⁺ ⠀┄

Andrei knew he needed to get back to the arena as soon as possible. After his shower, he picked up some food and raced back. He couldn’t afford to get distracted before tonight’s game, and he needed extra practice so he would do his job properly and also wouldn’t make a fool out of himself in front of you. 

He spent a couple of hours alone, shooting into the net, trying to fight off the thoughts plaguing his mind. 

He was intoxicated, and hadn’t even seen you in days. 

He couldn’t quit dreaming about you running your hands through his hair, down his neck and spine, over his belly and down-

No. Focus on the puck. Focus on the puck. 

He wanted to do well tonight, and secretly hoped to not even see you before the game, in all honesty. Just the fact that he knew you were in the stands made his heart jolt already. Thankfully, he was able to see that the guys were early too; however, they were all standing around in the seats, watching him shoot. What were they talking about so much? Why was everyone acting so off lately? 

“You guys are going to practice with me? Or what ? I bet you cannot win 3v3 right now.” Yeah, perhaps some good old team practice would settle him down.

⁺ ⠀┄

“So, are you going to tell me what you were talking about before?” Andrei asked, getting his stick ready in the locker room. Neci’s head snapped up to look at the Russian. “Uh, nothing.” Andrei raised an eyebrow at his friend. 

“You just seem a bit on edge lately, that’s all. We hope everything is okay.” Martin wanted to know if Pyotr was right, but he knew better than to tease Andrei before a game.

“Everything’s fine brother. I want to play the game right.” 

Neci couldn’t help himself. “Yeah totally. Uh… are you sure it has nothing to do with our roadie coming up? You know, bringing your friend along and all.” 

Andrei tried his best to keep his eyes on the tape he was wrapping around his stick, hoping his friend wouldn’t feel his demeanor change. 

“What? No, not at all. It’s just a trip with friends right?” 

“Yes, but not once have you talked about this friend of yours. And we had to put up with Rod reminding you about the trip for weeks now. I mean, you never put off stuff like this.” 

Andrei’s heart sank - he hoped his teammate wouldn’t be able to notice the small sweat beads forming at his hairline.

“I just- I want her to have a good time. She has never seen this much of my job. I want it to be okay.” Martin patted his teammate on the back. “Dude it’ll be fine. I’m sure she’s going to love it…. Do you like her or something?” 

“Alright alright” Andrei said, rolling his eyes and standing up quickly, but he knew he couldn’t hide his blush and smile.  

“Oh, Andrei has a little crush!” Neci said, teasing louder. 

“Shh, no. I- I go and get my shirt now. Bye.” 

Andrei quickly walked into the bathroom with his head down, turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in his face. His worst fear was coming to fruition right now - he hated to lose focus. He dipped his face in his hands again, and when he looked up at the mirror, he saw Neci and Pyotr walking into the restroom.

“Dude, it’s fine. Just play your game and she’ll have a good time.” 

“Oh, you can make her have a good time alright” 

The three boys snapped their heads towards a closed stall. Pyotr smacked his hand on his forehead.

“Burnzie, shut up!” Andrei fixed his eyes on the ceiling as he nervously bit his lip.

“Chill, you got it. You do this all the time, almost every night. We will simply have extra company on this trip, that’s all.” 

Pyotr nodded and waved towards the stall - “Do not listen Burnzie. We have fun tonight.”

As embarrassed as Andrei was, as he took pride in being the one lifting up his teammates, he felt pretty thankful that they had his back. He nodded as they walked back in the locker room and mentally replayed their words in his head. Just a regular game, regular roadie, with a bit of extra company. 

⁺ ⠀┄

The familiar cheer of the crowd was able to calm down Andrei during his warm up routine. He felt really fortunate to be playing this game, and had to pinch himself everytime he saw kids wearing his jersey and asking for a puck. 

He was loose, happy to be warming up and messing around with his teammates, until he looked up, scanning the crowd once again, and saw you. Sitting on the bench, talking with Neci’s sister to the kids, who were waiting to meet the players. 

Be cool, be cool, be cool. 

He knew he couldn’t avoid this any longer. He reminded himself to act casual, as he always did around you. Nothing had really changed, not in your eyes at least.  As he skated towards you, he couldn’t help but stare at the way you so intently listened to the kids, who were basically bouncing off their seats. 

He came up and messed up your hair with his glove while greeting the little ones, which caused the usual smiley eye roll from you. 

“Hi dingus.”

“You’re here early.” Andrei answered, with a smile.

“Yeah, since we leave for the trip tomorrow I asked for today off. I came early to avoid the traffic and such. I met your coach by the way - Rod? He’s the one that got me down here by the bench in the first place.”

Of course he did, Andrei thought. He did his best not to scoff at Rod too hard in front of you.

“You are ready for the trip? It’s going to be a lot of traveling, you know.”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll be okay flying on your team’s private plane for a week. Am I going to have to play hockey or something? You know I suck at skating.”

“Oh trust me, I remember.” Andrei laughed at the reminiscence - you guys had gone to an ice skating rink a long time ago, and he remembers being doubled over in laughter at how clumsy you were. Another memory quickly took the player by surprise: the feeling of your small hands in his when he tried to guide you, and the way your eyes reflected the lights, or the snow caught in your hair-

No, no, no, Not right now, Andrei. He took a deep breath. 

“I, uh. We will know the schedule and all tomorrow.”

“Cool.” you replied, looking at him, hands in your back pockets. “You nervous?”

Andrei’s heart (and face, inevitably) dropped. 

“Nervous?” he said, perhaps too frantically.

“For tonight? The game you’re about to play? It seems like a big one.” you answered, looking around at the seats quickly filling up. 

Oh. That’s what you meant.

“C’mon now. You know I don’t get nervous.” he snapped back with a cocky grin. 

“Oh yeah, big man Svechnikov is never nervous because he’s sooo good.” Andrei laughed, but before he could say anything, he noticed your gaze change, staring now deeper into his eyes, and moving your body closer to his. 

“I know you’re lying, Drei. I can see right through you.” you teased.

Andrei took a sharp inhale, and felt completely paralyzed. He wanted so badly to grab your chin and push his lips against yours. So badly.

“Geez, Andrei, chill. Everyone gets nervous right?”. Seeing as she was only joking, Andrei upped the ante. 

“You know me - I’m just too good.” he replied, teasingly, as he grabbed his water and squirted some of it in his mouth, not breaking eye contact. 

“You’re so full of shit, Svechnikov.” 

This caused Andrei to roll his eyes, turn the bottle around and playfully squirt some water at you. However, instead of it falling on your head, where he was initially aiming for, the long stream of water covered your chest. 

Oh shit.

Your mouth fell open as you shoved him backwards. “Andrei!”

Your white bodysuit, with a cut that was already low enough, was splattered all over with water, revealing your bra. 

“Um…” Andrei knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. He tried to open his mouth but he genuinely couldn’t get any words out. He had sneaked a peak at your chest often enough, but this was wholly different. 

“I didn’t even bring a jacket and it’s freezing in here; this will never dry.” Andrei looked at the clock above. 

“Here, come.” He mustered up the courage to grab your arm and lead you to the locker room. 

“Can I even be in here?’ you looked around, concerned. 

“It’s okay. You can have one of my jerseys.” 

Your chest perked up: “Is this your locker?” you asked, head tilted. 

Even with your chest soaking and basically completely showing through, Andrei thought you looked the most beautiful when you gave him that look. Big eyes, looking up at him, waiting for his answer. God, he really needed to get it together.

Chuckling, he answered: “Yes, this is my spot. Now put this on before you get sick.”

He saw you grab the jersey and study how big it was; as you started to get the sleeves on, he realized: here comes the word vomit again. He didn’t even think about saying it, it sorta just came out. 

“You need to take your shirt off, silly. Because you will freeze - it will not dry in the arena. It’s too cold.” He hoped the redness in his face didn’t show as he said that. He couldn’t take back what he said now.

“Well duh, but how am I going to change here? What if someone walks in?” you looked around as you said. His eyes narrowed when he noticed you were blushing too.

“I turn around and cover you. We’re in a corner, no one will see. How long could you possibly take?” he said, with a grin on his face. 

“Fine - but don’t look, okay?”

“No promises.” Andrei whispered as he turned around. 

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, nothing.” he quietly laughed. 

His body was big enough that you noticed he actually did cover you as you changed.

“Um, I’m sorry Drei, my skin is really wet. Do you have anything I can use to dry myself off?” He could sense the trembling in your voice, and he started moving frantically to find a washcloth to give you that hopefully wasn't soaked in sweat.

When he turned around to hand you the towel, he made sure to look down - he liked you, but he didn’t want to be creepy. As they say though, old habits die hard. As soon as you proceeded to wipe the damp patch of skin, he couldn’t resist but peer his eyes over. Oh. He had never seen your breasts like…this. Obviously. Even though it was just a peek, Andrei noticed the goosebumps on your skin, how soft you looked, and the lace on your white bra drove him absolutely mad. He swiftly turned around again, feeling pretty lucky that his hockey gear covered most of what was going on in his pants, and the fact that you couldn’t see the huge smile on his face. Maybe she really couldn’t tell how flustered he was. 

A little laugh made his eyebrows shoot up. 

“Drei, you’re so big.”

If he thought his heart couldn’t beat any faster, and his pants couldn’t get tighter, he was wrong. What did she just say?

She appeared in front of him - his jersey looked gigantic on her. Her stature and the fact that she was wearing his number made him want to grab her right then and there and spin her around, just to hear that giggle again. He couldn’t even see her hands because the sleeves were too long.

“See? It’s so big on me!” she said. And there it was. That look again - the smile, the eyes and the head tilt. It took all of his strength not to grab both of her cheeks and kiss her right then and there. 

“Yeah, you’re so small.” Andrei internally facepalmed. He sounded like such an idiot.

“No - you’re the huge one, Mr. Hockey player.”. 

“He sure is, aren’t you, Svechy?” 

Andrei looked up, horrified. Jarvy had walked in, right on time for that joke. Your head whipped around, your long hair wafting perfume towards Andrei. 

“Hmm?” you said. A wave of relief washed over Andrei. She hadn’t heard. But your perfume, your voice, god, you were so sweet. 

“You working the merch stand, Svech? You better make her pay for that. It's exclusive.” Seth joked around. Andrei desperately started shaking his head at him. “Stop!” he mouthed to his friend, who just got closer to you. 

“I’m Seth. You must be Y/N.” 

“How’d you know?”

“Oh, you’re Andrei’s secret friend, we all know. The whole team is excited to finally meet you, and find out why he’s kept you so hidden for so long.” 

Andrei’s gestures to make Seth stop got more and more ridiculous - he wanted to tackle his friend to the ground, he was so embarrassed. Thankfully, you couldn’t see how much he was silently freaking out behind you. 

“Oh, I’m a wanted criminal - that must be why.” Your joke made Jarvis’ head throw back with laughter. 

“She’s funny, Andrei, I like it.”

You turned around to look at him, with a slight blush and shake of your head. 

“Don’t listen to Jarvy, Y/N, he’s not all there.” And you laughed again. He was head over heels for you. Big trouble. 

“You’re one to talk. We’re starting soon, little criminal, you’re going to have to get out of here. Don’t worry Drei, you’ll see her again right after.” Seth winked.

Andrei’s face had been completely flushed for the whole day now, but this one caused a whole different shade of red. 

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“I was just leaving anyway, guys. Have a great game Andrei, and thank you for the jersey.” you said, and squeezed his arm, walking away. “Nice to meet you, Seth.”

Jarvy waved at you as you made it out of the locker room; he was staring at Andrei, who was completely still, unblinking, watching you strut away. 

“Man, you’ve got it bad.” Jarvy snarked, which made Andrei completely snap out of it, and immediately pounce on his friend. 

“You are such a dumbass, Seth!” the 6’3” player quickly trapped his teammate in a chokehold. Nevertheless, Jarvs couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Don’t ever do that again! I swear, Jarvy, you are-”

“Hey!”

Staal’s deep voice stopped the young players. 

“Let’s go boys! Save the hype for the tunnel.”

The guys quickly composed themselves and walked towards the rest of their team, only after Andrei gave his friend one last push.

⁺ ⠀┄

The game went a lot better than he expected - he was able to think clearly and really zone in. He did see you in the seats though, right when he was getting off a shift. Why weren’t you in the boxes with the other families? All of the girls he had brought to games before had always taken the most expensive seats. And he swore he saw you with the biggest smile on your face, and were you... biting your lip? Favorably, you were sitting way behind their bench, so when Drei caved in and tried to look behind him, he was met with his coach’s face, who slowly shook his head and handed him some smelling salts. Right, right. 

⁺ ⠀┄

The team celebrated their win, their stars and their fans. Andrei was feeling really good about this one. He could, after all, play with you so close to him, and still come through for his team. All the cockiness was woefully wiped away quickly once he saw you standing outside of the locker room, against the wall, waiting for him. 

He knew he was unfortunately staring again when you said:

“Ready for our sleepover?”

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov smut #nhl #nhl imagine #carolina hurricanes #nhl fic #nhl smut #smut #kikiwrites

[inourtownofhawkins]

𝖆𝖑𝖕𝖍𝖆 𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖌𝖆, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎 (𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊)

Summary: 25 years after a virus wipes out most of humanity, with the lucky ones dying and the rest are crazed and hungry, Lieutenant Eddie Munson is tasked to go into the Dead Zone to retrieve a shipment code named Babydoll; only it's not what he expects it to be and everything he thought he knew is about to change.

Author's note: I couldn't not write a zombie fic lmao. Also before anyone asks, no this fic was NOT inspired by The Last of Us and instead takes inspiration from The Girl With All the Gifts. So if I get any of yall in my ask box saying I "ripped off The Last of Us", get outta here. Also this will be told from a third person's perspective, sorry not sorry.

CW: 18+, swearing, sex references, Older!Eddie (mid 40s), Reader is mid 20s, mentions of character deaths, graphic depictions of zombies being zombies, no use of Y/N but Reader is referred to as "it", "Babydoll" and "Alpha", smut in later chapters.

Word count: 1.7k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

It had been twenty-five years since an infection so massive it spread across the world in a matter of days. The lucky ones died early on; the rest were left with an unsatiable hunger that could never be satisfied. Survivors were forced out of cities as the infected claimed them and thinking they would be safer in the countryside, but that safety didn’t last long as before they knew it, the infected found them.

Any attempt to keep the infected out failed, almost leading to the extinction of the human race. Their only salvation relied in General Martin Brenner who was successfully able to create a safe zone with all the power with what was left of the military. The base was eventually dubbed Hawkins, after Brenner’s hometown was completely ravaged by the infected.

Hawkins had been standing tall for almost twenty years now; surrounded by a minefield, barbed wire, and concrete walls – a warning to any infected to stay away. The base was more like a city than anything else; housing almost a thousand survivors comfortably with a cinema, endless stores and even a stadium on the grounds.

Who wouldn’t want to be there?

Well, Eddie Munson was one who didn’t. While everyone else was thankful for the safety Hawkins provided, he knew how Brenner ensured it. Every few months; a team would be sent into the Dead Zone, gather up a round of infected and bring them back to him for experimentation before extermination.

He’d spent so long in the Dead Zone, it felt more like home to him than Hawkins ever could. At least people in the Dead Zone were honest about wanting you dead, while in Hawkins, anyone could accuse you of stealing and get you taken away just because you looked at them funny.

Looking out of the window of the helicopter, seeing what once was the suburbs of a major city, now reclaimed by nature and the infected, he wondered if what they were doing had any real point at all. If they were really saving humanity, or simply delaying the inevitable. He even questioned if humanity was even worth saving; after all the terrible things they’d done to survive, did they even deserve it anymore?

The helicopter finally touched down in a clearing, with the entire team jumping out as quickly as possible to secure the area. The team was small, only comprising of ten people. Smaller was better, less noise and less opportunities of alerting the infected.

Eddie grabbed a map from his pack and checked it, looking at every crossed-out section before finding the red circle in the centre of a nearby city. “Babydoll was last seen somewhere in the city, approximately twenty klicks south.”

They’d been looking for Babydoll for the best part of a year, every team that was sent into the Dead Zone to find it never came back, and nobody ever truly figured out what had happened to them. Any attempts to find their bodies – infected or not – turned up nothing but blood trails that would lead to nowhere or ripped pieces of fabric from their clothes.

Despite multiple people telling Brenner to let it go and clearly Babydoll didn’t exist or didn’t want to be found, he refused. He was adamant to find it, and he didn’t care how many people had to die in order to get it.

Eddie only agreed to go if he knew exactly what they were supposed to be looking for and was given strict instructions not to tell the rest of his team. Keeping it a secret ate him up inside, he wanted to tell at least someone but the likelihood of not being believed always stopped him.

The only person he could’ve told was Steve, the only person from before who stuck by him, everyone else he knew had either left to go elsewhere or didn’t make it. They had each other’s backs, wherever one went, the other was sure to follow. But no matter how close they were, Eddie knew Steve wouldn’t fully understand how heavy his secret laid upon his heart.

The team moved quickly and quietly through the suburbs, being sure to have the silencers on their guns in case of trouble. Although, they knew the infected were more likely to be in city centre – they liked to be in groups.

The city didn’t look like a city anymore; leaves and flowers had sprouted all over the buildings and roads. There was a damp stench in the air, but nobody could work out where exactly it was coming from. Despite having potentially thousands of infected roaming the deserted streets, it almost felt peaceful to walk through. But Eddie knew he couldn’t let his guard down for a second, as peaceful and tranquil as everything seemed; the infected were still very much a threat.

It had been at least five years since Eddie had last been in the city, vowing to never return after the death of Dustin, someone who was like a brother to both him and Steve. His death was one of the main reasons why Eddie hated being in Hawkins; everything reminded him of Dustin.

But the only reason he volunteered to go into the city one last time was for the girl who tried to save Dustin. Eddie didn’t remember much of what she looked like back then, he only remembered her eyes being kind and calming as she tried to get Dustin away from the infected and save him, but when she realised she couldn’t, she stayed with both of them until Dustin died and made sure the infected didn’t take his body.

Then she was gone, and Eddie never even got her name.

But once Brenner got word of survivors living in the city, he instantly became obsessed. He found out quickly that the survivors weren’t like everyone else, they were the children of infected mothers and had been born as hybrids of humans and infected.

Ever since discovering them, he’d wanted one to dissect and see the inner workings of their bodies. They weren’t people to him; they were abominations and just part of the infected. And Babydoll was the ultimate prize.

From Eddie’s understanding, she was their leader – Brenner had done extensive research into her over the past half decade, giving her the nickname of Alpha. Admittedly, he was scared of her – not a lot scared him anymore but there was something about her unpredictability that absolutely terrified him to his core.

But he knew it was the same girl who’d tried to help Dustin, and he was forever thankful for that. He just didn’t quite know how to tell her that she was going to be killed at the hands of Brenner all in the name of science. No matter how many times Brenner or anyone else would refer to her as “it”, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to do it. What she had done for him was so human, he couldn’t ever see her as a monster.

Eddie was distracted with his thoughts for maybe a few moments until the cool barrel of a gun was pressed to the side of his head. Even without looking, he knew instantly who it was. “Clever girl,” he muttered.

The entire group aimed their guns directly at her head, with her being completely unphased and keeping her eyes locked on Eddie.

“Sir, do I kill it?” one of his team asked, his hands shaking while he held the gun. Eddie could tell that he didn’t want to shoot; the person in front of them looked too much like them to pass off as a nameless infected.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie looked at the person holding the gun. From what he could see, her right eye was completely grey with small purple-blue veins leading up her forehead and down her cheek, almost looking like scratches. There was no mistaking it, that was Alpha.

Shaking his head, Eddie slowly put his gun down onto the ground to have his hands on the back of his head in surrender. “Put your guns down, we do this their way.”

“Eddie-” Steve began, trying to stop him from putting the gun down.

“If you wanna get out of this alive, put your fucking gun down, Steve.”

She smirked as she watched both of them squabble like children, looking off to both sides of the street and nodding her head once, signalling for the rest of her people to come out of the shadows. Much to everyone’s horror, at least twenty people came out and surrounded them, taking their guns in the process.

“Why have you come?” she asked, slowly walking around to stand in front of Eddie, the gun still pressed to his head.

“There’s a shipment we need to retrieve, it’s somewhere inside the city. It’s codenamed Babydoll.”

She narrowed her eyes, letting out a small grunt as she lowered her gun. “I’ll take you to Babydoll.”

“You know where it is?” Steve asked, eyeing the gun in her hand as she placed it back into her holster.

She nodded. “You’re not the first to come looking for it. It’ll be sundown soon; you have to get inside. I’ll take you to Babydoll in the morning.”

“Stalling us?” Steve asked, hesitantly while raising an eyebrow.

She blinked slowly as if to say are you fucking kidding me. “I’m protecting you, idiot. Unless you want me to leave you out here to fight off every single infected by yourselves, I suggest you shut up and follow me.”

She didn’t wait to hear an answer and began walking away, her people pushing the team to follow her. Eddie took longer strides to keep up with her and walk beside her. “Why are you helping us?” he asked.

She didn’t look at him as the walked down the street. “Because I know you. Your friend died here, and I couldn’t help him.”

“Dustin. I remember you too, I’ve thought about that day and you ever since.”

She nodded once. “You’ve also shown me and my people a level of respect I didn’t think you people would have. You’re different, you didn’t shoot me even when you had the chance.”

“Neither did you.”

“Because I know I’m Babydoll. I know you’re here for me.”

#spilled ink #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie x reader #alpha omega

[zoeysdamn]

Bark, Bite & Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader | Part.7

Summary: The aftermath of the Rave’n takes your relationship with Tyler to another level – although in a rather unexpected and rocky way. Maybe a coffee date could help? You heard that coffee can irritate spirits, hopefully nothing wrong will happen. 

Warnings: angst, swearing, mention of blood and depiction of violence ; badly written action scenes lmao 

A/N: This chapter is rather short (but the previous is like 10 000 words so it’s even lol), there is an important scene but those last weeks had been hectic and really difficult for me on a personal and emotional level; I had to negotiate to start my new (first serious) job later to find an apartment, which is really complicated in the area I’m looking for blblblbl. Might not be my best chapter, I’m not overly proud of it, but I’m more optimistic about the next one!! 

Also I used some prompts of @dumplingsjinson​ from her list of “we just happen to love hate fucking each others” prompts because they’re aMAZING (can’t say which one, no spoilers eheh)

[Masterlist] [Prologue] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6]

“So Tyler, how are you feeling these days?” 

Sitting across in his usual seat, Tyler smiled, “I’m doing great. Feeling more at ease in Nevermore every day recently.”

Caitriona Fern hummed with a smile of her own, glad to hear that. From your spot at the window, you couldn’t help a slight twitch of the corner of your mouth. Not that you would admit it openly in front of the therapist, but you were relieved too that Tyler felt good in the school. He had almost made it through half of the year after all, this was an accomplishment. 

The therapist's eyes flickered to you for a moment before refocusing on Tyler with an intrigued spark, “Does it have anything to do with…certain people you’re gotten close to?”  

The clear insinuation brought a blush on Tyler’s cheeks and made you scoff lightly. You wondered for how long the therapist had suspected something. Maybe she and Weems had a bet about it, you were pretty sure the principal knew or at least suspected something was going on. 

But before you could snicker anything sarcastic to deflect the topic, Tyler blurted, “Y/N and I are sleeping together.” 

“Tyler!” you hissed in mortification. 

It wasn’t that you were particularly shy about your sex life, but still, you’d rather talk about it yourself to strangers instead of being exposed that way. 

Dr.Fern raised her eyebrow in contained perplexity, not really fazed by the information that had just been revealed –her empathic abilities must’ve sensed the sexual tension and from miles away –, but more interested in both of your reactions. You, looking betrayed and angry at the unexpected outing, and Tyler looking…both relieved and hurt? 

“I see,” she hummed pensively, like she was completely impermeable to the heavy tension that had suddenly taken place in the room, “maybe that could be a new topic to explore through our sessions. Y/N, would you care to join us?”

“I will not,” you spat venomously, no matter how kind her offer was. 

“Y/N…,” said Tyler softly but you interrupted him with a harsh glare. 

“Those sessions are for you, just because you’re sticking your dick in me for stress relief every once in a while does not mean I have to participate in this fuckery.” 

The way you had spat the words to him seemed to hurt Tyler more than a slap on the face. It hurt him, deep and hard. 

“Couple therapy isn’t a bad thing Y/N,” pressed the therapist gently, “it could actually be beneficial for you bo–” 

“Oh my fucking god, we’re not together!” you snapped ragefully, throwing your hands in the air in frustration. “We just happen to fuck every now and then, it doesn’t mean anything!” 

Silence fell heavy in the room. Despite the rage that had risen up immediately at Dr.Fern’s poking at your feelings, you couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of Tyler’s pained gaze on you. Slowly turning to face him, you felt your heart tighten at the sight of the betrayal painted all over his face, mouth hanging open in disbelief and eyes glossy with tears – of sadness or of rage? 

“Tyler…”

“Do you mean it?” he interrupted with a quiet voice, yet heavy with emotion. That broke your heart even more, and you licked your lips nervously, trying to find the words. 

“It didn’t…this isn’t what I meant,” you tried, but he cut you off again by getting up from his seat angrily. 

“And what did you mean, uh? Was it all a game for you all along? Getting a fucktoy for the year because you’re unable to feel anything?”

His words hurt you two, but you refused to let it show and the angry defense mode switched on instead. “Don’t you dare making everything about me,” you growled, pointing and accusatory finger at him, “nobody ever said something about commitment so calm the fuck down.” 

He scoffed, way more snarky than his usual self, “Yeah, ‘cause it’s me who is emotionally unavailable here, keep telling yourself that.”

“Fuck you Tyler,” you hissed. 

“Did that last night, doll,” he sassed back venomously, “or is this also too personal? Are you really that much of a cold-hearted bitch?”

The last comment stung you, and immediately after saying that Tyler realized he had gone too far and his expression turned into a sorry one. He tried to reach for you automatically, but the look of betrayal, deeper than before, stopped him in his tracks. 

A few seconds of silence passed with nobody moving; then an exhaled breath released somewhere else in the room painfully reminded you of the presence of Dr.Fern.

Before the fae therapist could say anything, Tyler grabbed your hand and tugged you behind me. 

“You. Me. Bathroom. Now.” 

There was no way you could protest and before you knew it you both ended up in the bathroom attached to the therapist’s office. Tyler locked the door behind and leaned against it; you on the other hand, sat awkwardly on the closed toilets, knees brushing against his legs just barely. 

“What do you want,” you muttered quietly, keeping your eyes on the ground. You just couldn’t look at him right now. 

Tyler exhaled loudly, trying to fight the urge to bring you into a hug – or screaming at you he really didn’t know at this point. “I want some fucking honesty here Y/N,” he finally let out, voice calmer than before but still wavering with hurt anger. “What am I to you?”

A feeble scoff escaped you and you lifted your face up to look at him, “Do you want the polite answer to this?”

“I want the real answer,” he gritted before his eyes became softer, “please. Please I just need to know where all of this is going because I can’t pretend it’s just a game of who’s gonna literally fuck up the other first.”

“I don’t know, okay dude?” you snapped, trying to keep yourself composed, but Tyler only let out a bitter laugh. 

“Hold up, hold up, you were sitting on my face last night you don’t get to call me ‘dude’ now, sweetheart.” 

Running a hand through your hair, you sighed deeply, “It was never meant to go this way, okay? It would’ve been easier if we kept hating each other, it’s not my fault if you can’t stick to it.”

Tyler scoffed, “You definitely don’t hold someone’s hand while you’re fucking if you hate them.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you still couldn’t pretend he wasn’t right. The two of you had fucked before; what you did the previous night…it had felt more. More than just fucking. Tyler was just being more realistic than you were. Sighing again in defeat, you buried your face in your hand. 

“I’m not very good at this, am I? Opening up and all that shit.” 

This immediately softened Tyler’s mood and he crouched slowly in front of you. 

“You’re the worst,” he said with a half grin and you chuckled a bit at that, looking up at him. His brown eyes were so warm and so kind, you felt guilty for snapping at him earlier. 

Observing him for a long second, you finally managed to articulate some words, “Where do you want this to go?” you asked in a small voice. “Because I have legit no idea of what you want, Tyler. You’re right, I’m a bit emotionally unavailable,” you sniffled and slowly, very slowly, reached for his fingers with your own. “You’ve got to help me with this if you want answers,” you whispered, looking at him tentatively.

He stared at you, then intertwined his fingers with yours; a weight felt like lifting from your heart at this simple gesture. “I like you,” he admitted softly, “probably more than like you, actually. I– maybe I got ideas too fast, I don’t know, but I’d really love to see where this can go.” 

Your eyes widened at his confession; but just as soon as they sinked in, you tried to tug your hand out of his, “You don’t love me,” you shook your head, “you’re in love with the version of me you get to fuck. It’s not love Tyler, it’s lust.” 

He grasped your hand firmly but gently, preventing you from slipping it out of his, “That’s not true,” he whispered, offended that you brushed away his feelings so quickly, “I know what I feel, and it’s not just lust. It hasn’t been just lust for a while now.”

Lips parted in surprise, you looked intently at him, trying to catch the slightest sign of lie; there was none. But no matter how sincere he was, the gut-wrenching fear was still here. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” you repeated in above a whisper, “I’m not someone who gets to be loved, not like you do.”

“Yes you do,” reassured Tyler, brushing his other hand on your cheek, “you’ve opened yourself so much already, you can do this. You deserve to be held, to be heard, to be loved, I know it.”  

Lower lips trembling, you feel that you were close to crying. He was right; no one but him had gotten you in such a fragile, vulnerable state for a long time. And for once, it didn’t feel as scary as it had before. Maybe there was really a chance? Maybe you could let him in, and let him heal you. 

“I won’t pressure you to do anything Y/N, never,” he whispered feverishly, boring his eyes deep into yours, “but if you’re not feeling something, anything for me, please tell me sweetheart. Tell me now, and I’ll walk away from us.”

The only thought of losing him made your heart squeeze. And that’s when you knew you were lost. You were already too deep into this, there was probably no way back. But would it be so bad? 

Leaning your cheek against his palm, you closed your eyes for a moment, relishing in his comforting touch. 

“I’m not sure of what I feel,” you admitted softly, “but there is something Tyler. I…I’m ready to try and figure it out, to try…more with us. But,” you exhaled shakily, opening your eyes to look at him again, “I can’t do that alone,” you finished, “and that scares me.”

The smile that took place on his face was the softest. “I’ll be there, doll. I’ll be there every step of the way you want me to.” 

“I don’t know how long it could take,” you said with a shiver of sadness; not for you, but for him. But Tyler only pressed a kiss on your forehead. 

“It’ll take all the time you’ll need. Don’t worry.” 

A fond smile stretched your lips. Lowering your defenses for Tyler Galpin had been a good idea. A risky one, but maybe it was what it takes to free yourself from everything from your past. 

It took the both of you a few more minutes before exiting the bathroom. Dr.Fern didn’t say a word, only observing the two of you gathering your jackets on your way out, a knowing smile on her lips. Just as you were about to get out, you turned to the fae. 

“Don’t ever make assumptions about me again,” you warned – in a surprisingly soft voice?, “you’ll never get me to talk to you, so drop it already.”

She nodded, a satisfied expression on her face, “Looks like someone’s already at it, it seems. Will you let him help you?” 

Glancing at Tyler walking down the stairs behind your shoulder, you nodded reluctantly, “Yeah, I might,” you muttered. 

She grinned, “Then I promise I won’t bother you again.”

With a last nod you left, joining Tyler on the sidewalk in front of the therapist’s office. 

“Coffee?” you suggested, a bit unsure of how to act after your talk in the bathroom. 

Tyler smirked, and just like that it seemed to brush all your worries away, “Coffee date? Classic move to hit on me, sweetheart.”

The return of his flirty behavior reassured you just like it made your heart soar just because you were willing to open this weird relationship to something more didn’t mean either of you had to change who liked to be around each other. So you grinned.

“Can coffee get you in my bed?” 

“Depends on how many you’re buying, doll,” he answered playfully as you climbed in a car and snorted lightly. 

“Come on then, my caramel macchiato bimbo.” 

After a short car trip you arrived at the Weathervane, and you were in a casual and comfortable chat as you pushed the coffee shop’s doors. Tyler had been hesitant to actually go inside during the first weeks. But after your encounter with the barista – when you had chewed her out with no mercy – it had lifted his spirits a little, and now he felt comfortable enough to go to the Weathervane again. As long as you went with him, he could ignore the glances and venomous whispers in his trail. 

Deep into a conversation about the last episode of a show you both watched, Tyler and you arrived close to the counter, just behind another customer. You were defending one of the character’s in the new episode and Tyler scoffed playfully at your argumentation, the heaviness of your intimate talk only a few minutes earlier long forgotten. The customer ahead took their drink and it finally was your turn, and you rolled your eyes at one of Tyler’s comments, before looking up at the list of drinks on the board. Just when you flicked your eyes up, you caught sight in the mirror of four black silhouettes entering the coffee shop, hooded; and armed. Blood froze in your veins; when the first man raised his weapon your body reacted on its own. Before anyone registered the first shot, you had tackled Tyler brutally, sending the two of you over the counter as bullets flew in the air. 

Screams erupted everywhere in the coffee shop, gunshot piercing your ears and your head bumped against the mirror before you landed on the floor tiles with a thud. Crashing next to you, Tyler grunted under the sudden shock, your arms that had tugged him still gripped on his shoulders. A groan escaped you despite the dizzy mind; the shock against the mirror must’ve been more violent than you thought. 

Immediately rolling on his side to face you, Tyler’s eyes immediately checked for any injuries. 

“You’re okay?” he asked breathlessly; you nodded with a wince. 

Next to you, a terrified barista was curled up on the ground, covering her ears and crying hysterically. The first couple of seconds had you confused; then your mind sped up and turned into full action mode, adrenaline spiking up in your veins. Shooting up your eyes to the broken mirror, you took a quick look of the room. Four armed men were shooting everywhere, screaming inaudible orders through the chaos. They didn’t look like they were after something, only terrorizing customers and barking nonsense. Automatically all the training from all those years resurfaced and your brain immediately switched on survival mode. The analysis drilled in your head at a crazy speed and you whipped your head to Tyler. 

“Is there a backdoor in there?” you asked in a hushed tone. 

He blinked before nodding, “Yeah, yeah next to the storage room.”

“When you get the shot, you take as many people as you can and you run. Get outside, and call your dad.” 

“What about you?” he frowned, and you checked for your gun. Realizing you hadn’t brought it with you, you swore. Of all days, it had to be the one to forget it in your room; your grandmother would have your head for that. 

At least your silver blade was still strapped on your ankle and you wasted no time unsheathing it. “I’m going to buy time,” you said quietly, checking in the mirror the mercenary slowly coming to the counter, “stay put.” 

Tyler protested immediately, “No I can help you, I–” 

Pointing a finger at him you send him a harsh glare. “Stay. put.” you said through gritted teeth. 

The last thing you needed was for Tyler to unleash the Hyde. If anything went wrong, you weren’t sure you could handle both him and the mercenaries. 

One of the mercenaries stepped around the corner; and everything went very quick. He started to shout something and you whipped around, your body acting on its own and you threw your knife. The blade landed right between his eyes and his body slumped on the ground like a ragdoll with a thud. Jumping on your feet you wasted no time grabbing his gun, and rolled on the ground from behind the counter. All hell broke loose again. 

One of the mercenaries turned to you, gun brandished and you opened fire immediately shooting him in the belly and chest. The critical thing was to not harm any of the customers curled on the floor, head hidden in their hands to cover themselves. One of the thugs groaned and fell on the floor and you rose up to speed up to the remaining two. But too entrapped into the adrenaline rush you failed to notice the one you shot raised his weapon again. Another detonation echoed, the sting on your shoulder burned a second later. 

A yelp escaped you and you fell on your knees with a groan. Crawling between a flipped table you tried to cover yourself from the bullet gusts as you gripped your bleeding shoulder. You lifted your bloody hand with a hiss, trying to get a look of how bad it was. You were slightly relieved to see that it was most likely a scratch, the bullet had only grazed you. It somehow angered you even more, a new rush of adrenaline flooding in your veins and you sprung from behind your hiding spot the very second you heard the click of their guns signaling empty chargers. Without thinking you started to shoot at them, trying to be as accurate as possible but the wound on your arm made you sloppy. Ducking to avoid a new wave of bullets, you tried to analyze the situation once again; but a roar interrupted everything, making the thugs and you turn to the sound. A bony, rabid, creature jumped over the counter claws out and mouth salivating with rage. The globulous, feral eyes burned his furious madness and if you hadn’t seen pictures of the Hyde before, you couldn’t have recognized Tyler. Because there was nothing much left of him now. Only the mindless, blood-thirsty creature remained, with his backbone popping under the gray skin.  

A whisper of his name left your lips but the way he jumped on the man laying on the floor and slashed him open with a single swing of his claws threw the reality in your face like a slap. A guttural roar tore itself from the creature’s throat as he lashed out on the mercenary. The horror made his partners freeze on their spot, long enough for you to regain your spirits and shoot again. Several bullets landed on their chests, hitting them full force and sending them flowing backwards, crashing on the tables. 

A sigh of relief left your lips and for a slip of second you foolishly thought it was over. A low, menacing growl erupted from behind and you whipped around, gun cocked. The face of the Hyde flashed in front of you, mouth foaming and teeth bared. You could even feel the warm, blood-filled breath against your face. The barrel of your gun was almost pressed against his forehead, the shot was easy, clear, just there. Everything in you screamed to press the trigger; your training, your family, survival instinct. But a handful seconds of hesitation, muscles still tensed yet unable to move; it was already a mistake, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

A whistle pierced the air and a red spot landed on the creature’s shoulder. He roared in pain, a menacing claw clutching the area before he started to sway groggily, round eyes fluttering under the weight of grounding sleep. He vacillated once, twice, and crashed on the floor loudly. A few seconds after, his body slowly morphed back into his human form, naked and bruised on the tiles. All of that under your helpless gaze, lowering your guns in slow motion. 

-POLICE, PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON! 

The booming voice in the microphone snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned your head to the broken window. Six police cars surrounded the coffee shop, their teams all pointing their guns at you. Among them, you noticed one of the policemen holding a long-shot rifle. Glancing back to Tyler you understood that he had just been sedated. This should have been a relief; but as the terrified customers gradually looked up, whispering among themselves about what happened, and the police forces started to fill in, you realized something. Everyone had their eyes set on you. They all saw that; your hesitation had only lasted a second, maybe two, but they had seen you. They had witnessed you being unable to pull the trigger at a dangerous monster, unable to do your mission.

They had all seen you fail. 

The weight of the tension in the office was almost unbearable. On any other occasion you would have found it mildly uncomfortable and would have worn your sarcasm like a deflective armor, but now you were far too ashamed to play cocky. Instead you fiddled with the hem of your sleeve; shame you hadn’t worn your uniform, it would have been torn into shred and coated with blood instead of that shirt.

Just after the police showed up, they wasted no time cuffing you and putting you into a car; before Principal Weems stormed on the crime scene and hissed at the sheriff that it was some of her students and that your place was in Nevermore. Luckily for you, none of the police officers protested and as an ambulance carried an unconscious Tyler, you had gone back to the school with the furious headmistress. Strangely enough, some of the customers had grasped your hand and bid their thanks between nervous cries, even the rude barista you had roasted a few months ago. Guess saving them from an attack made you a better person in their eyes, or else you would already be in jail instead of Weems’ office. 

Principal Weems slammed the desk phone on its socle, furiously exhaling through her nostrils. 

“The Police have retrieved the bodies of the attackers but no identification so far,” she said bitterly. “Still no names of your victims Miss Van Helsing.”

“I defended myself,” you countered sharply, “and all the customers in the coffee shop. What did you expect me to do? Sit around and wait to be shot?” 

She pursed her lips, unamused by your response, “It wasn’t your place to take action, the police and the judge won’t be pleased.” 

“Yes it was,” you snapped, “what do you think would have happened if I hadn’t been here? You’d have a Hyde running free and more than four corpses out there. I killed those guys in self-defense because it was them or everyone else in that shop.” 

“Except you failed,” retorted Weems coldly, and her harsh tone made you flinch. “Didn’t you? Mr Galpin still turned into the Hyde, while your mission was precisely to prevent that and the corpse he slashed open.” 

Eyes darkening you looked away in shame. You knew that you had failed in your mission; you shouldn’t have hesitated a second and pulled the trigger on the spot at the Hyde appearance. Those hadn’t been silver bullets, it wouldn’t have harmed him, just make him dizzy enough to neutralize him with your blade. But in the face of danger, when all logic screamed at you to pull the trigger you didn’t do it. And you couldn’t explain why your mind had decided to freeze instead of doing your duty. Or better, yes you knew, a part of you suspected you did; but there was no way you’d admit it out loud, you didn’t owe Weems anything.  

The Principal narrowed her eyes at your ashamed unexpected reaction. “You didn’t honor your mission.” 

At her insistence you clicked your tongue in annoyance, “These weren’t silver bullets, it would have only angered the Hyde even more. It would have been risky and stupid.”

“It was your job,” she repeated, “and why didn’t you have your gun?” 

“Now you want me to have it?” you snickered bitterly, and Weems was quick to send you another glare. 

“Don’t play smart with me, Miss Van Helsing. You’re in serious trouble.”

That made you snap in anger, “Oh so I am in trouble for neutralizing four armed people who had taken hostages and shooted at civilians? Big fucking time! What were they even doing in Jericho in the first place?”

“This is not the matter!” screamed back the Principal, her final string of patience finally snapping. The way she had shouted at you surprised you so much you felt your anger immediately vanish. Seeing you backing off, Weems exhaled loudly, trying to keep a semblance of composure before carrying on, “An investigation will be led by the police,” she said more calmly but still on edge, “but you will return in juvie regardless of the outcomes. I’ll make sure of that.” 

You felt your jaw fall off, “What! Why?” 

A part of her could understand your reaction, but Principal Weems’ nerves had been on too much edge for the past hours she only pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance, “Because you were a student under my responsibility and a dozen of normies saw you shooting at one of them, that’s why. No need to argue,” she cut you off before you could even open your mouth, “I’ve made my decision, I’ll call the school board tonight. You can start to pack your things right away.”

"This…this is unfair!" you protested despite the fatigue screaming in your limbs; you hadn't had time to properly dress your minor injuries or god forbid, take a rest. "Who are you protecting by doing this, uh?" 

"I'm protecting this school," she spat venomously, "and all the students in it. Normies will not let that slide, and I won't let them shut down Nevermore because I didn't take action." 

"And what will happen to Tyler?" you retorted, an underlying worry in your voice, "What will the normies think if you pushed away someone capable of keeping him in check?" 

To your surprise, Larissa Weems snorted, "Like you did today?" 

A fed up roll of eyes was your answer, "We were attacked. I asked him to stay put to avoid more damage and trust me those mercenaries wouldn't have been the only corpses if I hadn't been there to keep Tyler at a distance." 

The principal kept glaring at you but it was clear that your words had touched something. You could almost see the clogs in her head turning. Sighing heavily under the weight of exhaustion, you approached her desk slowly, hoping to show a more friendly behavior. All you wanted was to go to sleep, honestly. 

"Look, if normies or police thought I did something wrong, they would have asked for my head already ; and I have no doubt the school board would have gladly offered them on a silver platter. But," you sighed heavily, knowing you had Weems' full attention, "you can't put me back in juvie. Not when I did a good job so far at keeping your most sensitive student at bay. It wouldn't be a smart move." 

Weems seemed almost convinced, but something still bothered her, "I still can't let you walk away from this. None of you." 

"You can," you assured, looking at her dead in the eye, "and you will. If you've ever wished to protect the students of this school, you'll give me another chance." 

"And why would I do that?" 

"Because Tyler and I are still outcasts," you deadpanned firmly. "You had sworn to protect the people in that school; we're still your students, Principal Weems. Please. You have to trust me on this one." 

A long second passed. Then Weems sighed. 

“Can you really contain him? With therapy sessions and everything?”

You nodded slowly, “I promise today had been an accident, strictly triggered by the attack of those men. Ask other students, Ajax, Enid, hell even Xavier or Wednesday; Tyler’s not a menace on his own to the students, not when he’s with me. Please, let us stay in Nevermore.”

A slight amused smirk grew on Weems’ face, “I can’t say I’m not surprised by this sudden affection for this school…nor for Mister Galpin.” 

Turning away, you tried to hide the blush creeping on your cheeks, “We’re friends,” you mumbled. Weems arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Friends, uh?”.  The glare you sent was enough to move to drop the subject, but didn’t lose her amused smirk. “I must admit that you’re right, Miss Van Helsing. You are a student of Nevermore. And as the headmistress, it is indeed my job to protect outcasts. Fine,” she said after a few seconds of silence, “I won’t expel you. And I’ll defend you and Mister Galpin, should the police come after him.”

“Will they?” you asked with underlying concern. 

“Unlikely,” she assured, “I doubt Sheriff Galpin will arrest his son again. If the witnesses confirm what you did, with my word you two won’t be bothered by this accident.”

“What about the board?” 

Weems waved it off, “They need my voice to expel a student. It won’t happen.” 

“Thank you,” you muttered a bit perplexed, but more relieved than anything. 

“You reminded me of why I’m doing this job,” simply said the Principal, “we’re even Miss Van Helsing. Now if you’ll excuse me, this has been a long day for everyone and I’d like to sleep at least ten minutes before having another call from the police or the board.” 

Needless to say you didn’t protest and wasted no time rushing out of the office. As soon as you turned on the first corner, you let your back hit the wall and slumped against it. A deep breath escaped your lungs. All the adrenaline and tension the day had thrown at you finally sinked in, ragged breaths coming out from your lips. What a bloody mess this day had been. From the open hearted therapy session to the attack at the Weathervane and the tense meeting with Weems. This morning you were still a random student still tired from the party the night before, then without a warning you had shot down four men, and almost got yourself sent back to prison again. A goddamn drink, three whole days of sleep and the medal of patience, that’s what you needed. 

A sting on your arm reminded you of the injury from before. You glanced down to where the bullet had grazed you; it had felt numb ever since you had left Jericho and you had almost forgotten about it. There would probably be another wound where your head had bumped against the mirror and various cuts, maybe you should dress all of that no matter how minor it was. At this already late hour of the night, no one would be at the infirmary but you could handle this on your own. Going back on your tracks, you quickly took the way to the infirmary, only meeting silence in the hallways. 

As expected, the office was empty; maybe it was for the best. Just when you grabbed some disinfectant and fresh bandages you noticed a laying form on a bed and you stopped dead in your tracks. Those brown curls and scars-tainted freckles were unmistakable. Your legs carried you on their own, like pulled by an unknown force to the laying body of Tyler on the infirmary bed. On the pale sheets, he looked almost harmless; but the glint of silver cuffs around his wrists tying him on the bed told otherwise. It saddened you as much as it angered you. Not only they had shot him with some hell of a sedative – probably enough to put a whole pack of grown berserkers to sleep – but they handcuffed him to the bed like a rabid animal. Like he could do anything in his current state. After a quick look over him you sighed in relief when no apparent injuries were to be seen. Weems must have made him be repatriated in Nevermore at the same time as you. Sitting on the bed next to Tyler, you sighed heavily. 

“What a day uh, pretty boy?” you whispered, looking at him with a weak smile. Tyler couldn’t hear you, but it felt nice to talk to him anyway. “Guess we saved the day you and I, even if no one will ever admit it.” 

Getting another sight of the cuffs, you rolled your eyes and looked around for a key. Luckily, whoever had been here last had dropped it on a nearby bed table. 

“What were they thinking by cuffing you,” you sighed, unlocking the restrains one after the other, “what a dumb fucking idea.” 

A sudden groan rose from the bed and you whipped your head to Tyler’s face. Eyebrows knitting together, he winced slightly. “I s’cond tha’,” he rasped in a weak voice, a lazy grin awkwardly stretching his lips, “ ‘tis is a bad idea.” 

You choked on a sob through a bewildered smile, “Yeah, definitely.” 

Struggling to open his eyes, Tyler looked down groggily at his wrist and chuckled, “Bondage? Y’re gettin’ kinky, doll.”

You broke into a light laugh, tears pricking the corners of your eyes; you hadn’t realized it before, but you were so glad Tyler had woken up unharmed. He didn’t lose his sloppy grin, and you could see that his mind was still highly fogged by the anesthetic. 

“Wh’t happ’nd?” he slurred weakly. 

“Some jerks started to shoot,” you said softly, trying to be as soothing as you could. “ Someone shot you. They’re dead now.”

He nodded groggily, trying hard to pick pieces of what happened. “I transf’med didn’ I?” 

At first, you wondered if you should lie to him. Then you decided against it; it wouldn’t do him anything good. “Yeah,” you nodded, “but you didn’t hurt any civilians. You’re good, tiger.” 

His eyes trailed on your body and he frowned at your bandaged arm. When he slowly brought up numb fingers to reach it, you followed his gesture and gently grasped his hand. “It’s nothing,” you reassured him, “just a bullet graze.” 

He didn’t look less worried; but again, the anesthetic was still quite strong in his blood. “ ‘n then?” 

You swallowed hard, “It wasn’t pretty. Weems wanted to expel me on the spot for being unable to stop you from transforming. Turns out she has a soft heart, she won’t do anything.”

Again, Tyler frowned, “W’dyou mean?” 

His eyelids started to feel more heavy, and he could feel himself slip back into the depth of unconsciousness again. You felt your heart soar at the mere sight of him, alive and well in this bed. Nothing could compare to this; being with him, knowing he was unharmed, and that thanks to each other you had unknowingly saved yourselves. All the things you had said earlier came back into mind, and so did the dozens of questions that had run in your mind after the attack at the coffee. You had spent so much time, either with that gun in hand or after, ressassing every single moment to try to understand why you hadn’t pulled the trigger despite your own reason for existing. The reason you hadn’t killed that monster. Because you hadn’t seen a monster then; because you couldn’t see a monster then. Because even if you had said you didn’t know how to love Tyler, your heart already knew. And your heart had already made its choice. 

Cradling his cheek fondly, you gave him a weak smile. 

“Don’t worry pretty boy,” you whispered as he drifted back to sleep, “we’re okay. We’re both okay now.” 

[Part.8] 

A/N: I take a lot of inspiration for monster hunting and bestiary from my favorite universe ever aka the Witcher (which is already inspired by many actual myths). There I mentioned briefly berserkers, bestial warriors from norse mythology who can turn into beasts (usually bears of wolves). 

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist: 

@igotanidea​ @officerrrfriendly​ @beggingforxavierthorpe​ @aliciahlewis​ @stresseyzesty​ @katiemrty​ @leightonsteele @black-swan-blog27​ @mooniesthings​ @nightfurya​ @steadypoetrydinosaur​  @hellok1ttycupcake 

Usernames unfound by Tumblr: 

@spiceyhotsherbet  @hellokittysblog0

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin angst #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #Van Helsing! Reader #no beta we die like men

[archivehub]

Title: The Doctor's Plight Summary: Priyanka comes to grips with her daughter's choice of partner. Word Count: 492

Sorry this one's a bit late; I'll try and still have today's short out on time. I'm super proud of this one's title, though lmao. For Glow Week day 5, I used the prompt "Family."

The short is also beneath the cut:

From the very moment she had first met him, Priyanka had never been too keen on Steven. Who was this strange, bubbly boy, and why did he feel so… entitled to touch and hug her dear Connie? And why did her daughter seem to reciprocate the actions?

As a responsible mother would, she tried to nip the growing friendship in the bud before it could blossom into something… well, more than a simple friendship. She would constantly cut their calls short, fabricate excuses to prevent them from seeing one another; she even tried setting Connie up with a more proper friend, the son of one of her and Doug’s college buddies.

Needless to say, Priyanka’s plans failed absolutely miserably—beyond miserably, even. Steven and Connie were dating by the time they entered their late teens; they were engaged only five years later; and, before she knew it, a freaking baby was on the way, prior to her daughter’s college graduation nonetheless!

All she could do was drink. How had things panned out so unexpectedly? Where had she gone so wrong? Most importantly, how would she explain this all to the extended family before the upcoming wedding!?

Doug had been her rock in these difficult times. He would constantly reassure her and encourage her to think positively. Before long, she found herself looking forward to the upcoming milestones in her daughter’s life, no matter who she met them with.

After catching wind of the bride’s premarital pregnancy, much of the extended Maheswaran family declined their wedding invites. This, Priyanka reasoned, was likely for the best; the last thing her daughter needed on such an important day was the heckling of a bunch of strangers.

The wedding went swimmingly: everyone important showed up, the ceremony had been flawless, the catering was to die for; and, to Priyanka’s immense delight, the bar was fully stocked. After a few glasses of liquid courage, the woman approached Steven, chin raised high. She had intended on confronting the man about his intentions with Connie going forward, but she ended up sobbing on his shoulder instead. The prior months had been tough on her; they  made her realize something important: she couldn’t keep pretending the man wasn’t a perfect fit for her daughter.

Priyanka’s first grandchild, Grace Maheswaran-Universe, was born with her help just a few months later. She was the most beautiful baby the woman had ever laid her eyes upon—which was saying something, given she helped deliver infants on a semi-daily basis.

She and Doug would volunteer to babysit the newborn at every opportunity they possibly could. More often than not, however, Greg Universe or the Crystal Gems had already called first dibs.

Still, with the little time she shared with her granddaughter, Priyanka would spoil her absolutely rotten. Her second, third, and fourth grandchildren appreciated the same treatment, no matter how often they toppled her furniture, sent shields soaring through her windows, or granted her produce sentience.

#connverse #steven universe #connie maheswaran #su #fanfiction #steven quartz universe #su fanfiction #steven x connie #connie x steven #su fanfic #glowweek #glow week #priyanka maheswaran #doug maheswaran #greg universe

[kvhasproblems]

Bite the Hand - Van/Fem!reader

Chapter 2

Chapter 1, chapter 3, masterlist

Summary: R tries to sort through` her complex thoughts and hangs out with Lottie.

Warnings: reader has like serious comphet and eternalized homophobia for the first bit of this, reader also has religious trauma and shity parents (who even has good parents in this show lmao), regular yellowjackets violence, this is also gonna be like the slowest of slow burns

A/n: This chapter ended up being way shorter than planned but its better this way. Also chapter 3 might take a hot minute to come out because I move out on Saturday… but I’m hoping to get a one shot out sometime this week.

Word Count: 1900

I enter the change room sweaty and exhausted. I head to my locker when I see Van, who is violently shoving her stuff in her bag. I walk up to her.

“Hey, can we talk-“ I start before pushes past me zipping her bag as she leaves the changing room without a word.

“Ooooo what did you do?” Mari singsonged while she strutted over to her locker.

“Leave it, Mari,” Lottie answered for me. “Whatever happened is none of our business.”

“Actually I think it is our business, I mean we are a team and if this is going to affect how we play-“ Jackie said clearly wanting the drama more than anything.

“It’s not going to affect how we play because Y/n is going to figure her shit out!” Tai slammed her locker shut and left not without giving me a dirty look.

Great now she is mad too. Everyone stared slightly shocked by Taissa’s outburst. Before turning to make small talk to the person next to them. I started to quickly pack up my stuff, I just wanted to go home and cry, how did today end up such a mess? Shauna stopped me on the way out the door.

“Van’s never one to stay mad for long, I'm sure if you talk to her you can work it out.” She gave me a small smile.

“Thanks, Shauna.” I returned her smile before heading out the door and walking to the parking lot. My head is spinning, between Tai’s outburst and Shauna’s words of encouragement I feel more confused than ever. I know I messed up but I have no idea how to even go about fixing this. After a few minutes, Lottie joined me unlocking her car.

“Sorry for taking so long.” She apologized while throwing our bags in the trunk.

“No worries,” I mumbled getting into the passenger seat of the car. As Lottie drove I watched the buildings and scenery zip away as we passed as my thoughts continued to spiral.

“So, not to pry but if you wanna talk I’m here.” Lottie broke the silence between us before turning the radio down a bit.

“I’m not even sure what to say Lot, I just know I messed up. I kept saying all the wrong things but the worst part is my parents would be proud of me. If they ever found out that-“ I couldn’t even bring myself to say it. I pause for a second before restarting. “l need to apologize or at least just try to explain myself better but she won’t even speak to me.”

“I’m sure she’s just cooling down, When she’s ready to talk she’ll come to you, just be ready to listen when she does.”

I hummed in response. A comfortable silence fell between us. I fidget with my hands as I go back to looking out the window. I keep telling myself that Lottie is right, plus she always has good intuition with these things.

Lottie dropped me off saying that we could still make cookies later if I was feeling up to it before driving away. I walked in the door and started taking my shoes off. Loud barks sounded through the house as Charlie ran up to me.

“Who’s the cutest boy ever!” I coo at him as he said hello. Charlie had been a gift to me from my Uncle when I was 13. I’ll never forget my Uncle bursting through the front door yelling Happy Birthday with a tiny little ball of golden fur in his arms. Despite my parents not even calling that day it was one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had and though my Uncle has never said it out loud, I can tell he’s always been worried that my parents aren’t home, so I think Charlie was a way for him to always make sure I wasn’t lonely or bored.

My summers with my Uncle and cousins are always my favourite time of the whole year. Getting to go fishing and helping my cousins on the farm just feeling free.

I took off my shoes and went to my bedroom. I was in desperate need of a shower after today's practice. After, as much as I didn’t want to, I had calc test to study for. I pushed play on my cassette player before sitting and pulling out my notebook.

I physically paused when I realized what was playing. It was the mix Van had brought me the last time she was over. I took in a shaky breath trying to get a grip. I opened my textbook and started my homework regardless of the fact that I was completely distracted.

“Fuck”. I pushed my chair away from my desk and stood up. I swear if I look at one more math problem my head's gonna explode. I look at the clock on my nightstand.

4:17

Two hours since Lottie dropped me off.

“Yeah, that’s definitely enough math for today.” I sighed packing up my stuff before grabbing my telephone off the nightstand and dialling Lottie.

It rang for a moment before she answered.

“Hi.”

“Hey Lottie, should I come over for dinner?”

“Sure, I’ll let Ms. Abby know.”

The Mathew’s maid/hired help Ms. Abby is a very sweet woman and you can see how grateful she is every time I come over, though she would never say I think she worries about Lottie being on her own. My parents fired our permanent maid when I turned 16 stating that I no longer needed a babysitter. Though we still have people come and tend to the yard and house I hate how lonely it gets.

“Thanks, Lot, see you soon,” I say. Lottie says her goodbye before we hang up. I start to get ready packing a small bag with a few things and changing into some jean shorts.

I get to Lotties fairly quickly. We eat dinner and make cookies even if they look horribly misshapen.

We sit on the massive couch in Lottie's basement dimly lit by the TV, wrapped in excessive amounts of blanket. The cookies besides their odd shape are delicious. I grabbed a random tape to put on and it happened to be Jumangi. It had come out in theatres last year and we (Jackie) decided we needed to do some more out-of-practice bonding and Jumangi was the only movie playing with a low enough rating so Laura Lee could come with us. I remember it like it was yesterday giggling and plotting with Van to sneak Laura Lee into a rated R movie even though her parents would never let us hear the end of it. Jackie didn’t let us go through with it but it still made me smile thinking about it.

About halfway through Lottie broke the silence.

“Y/n… would your parents even be around enough to find out if you and Van were…” She let herself trail off. I’ve never truly told Lottie about…me, but she figured it out. She probably knew before I did. At a sleepover last year after Becky’s Halloween party she rolled to face me and whispered into the dark bedroom that she’s my best friend and she’ll always love and support me. I didn’t know what to say then, and I still have trouble even admitting it out loud now.

“I-“ The words seemed to catch in my throat. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it before. Running around in secret with Van. “I’m just scared Lot,” I whisper the confession over the TV. “God... I wish I wasn’t so scared of them, I mean you’re right they wouldn’t even be around enough to know, so why do they get to control me.” I grumble. Me and Lottie have talked about them many times. Our shity parents with their shity rules and expectations that they don’t even bother to stick around and enforce.

“They can only control you if you let them.” Lottie points out.

“You’re one to talk.”

She grabs the pillow and whacks me on the side of the head before erupting into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, it’s SOOOO on!” I laugh grabbing the pillow behind my head.

I drove back from Lottie’s rather late for a school night. ‘Black Hole Sun’ plays quietly as the streetlights zip by. The last time I heard this song in the car was during the ride home from Becky’s party.

I hum as the coolness seeps into my cheek as I rest it on the backseat window. The streetlights pass zip past us like shooting stars. My bones seem to vibrate with the cords of the song. I close my eyes taking a moment to relish in the drunk ride home. Swaying side to side to the chorus of ‘Black Hole Sun’. I feel her weight as she scooches closer practically laying on my side.

“Y/nnnn.” Van pokes my cheek with a drunk whisper. I crack one of my eyes open to see her smiling up at me.

“Vannn.” I singsong back.

“Whatcha looking at.”

“The lights… they are so pretty,” I mumble looking back out at them. They seem to be moving faster like they are spinning around the car.

“The prettiest.” I look to see Van looking directly at me completely ignoring the lights and suddenly it's the funniest thing that's ever happened to me. I’m starting to think I maybe shouldn’t shared that joint with Nat. I sit up and Van slides up with me. The car is really spinning now like some twisted carnival ride. I grab onto Van to try to stabilize myself. I accidentally grabbed her thigh.

“Woah!” She laughs. “Buy a girl dinner first.” It’s only then she sees the look on my face. “Uhhh, Tai!” She calls up to Tai who’s dding and has had to deal with us all night.

“What?” She answers turning down the music.

“I think you gotta pull over” Van warns.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I say way louder than I mean to.

As Tai quickly pulls the car over Lottie wakes up in the passenger seat.

“What’s goin'-“ I don’t hear the rest of what she says as I whip open my door and run down behind the car.

The memory bounces around my head. God I had been so embarrassed that Van had to hold my hair back. It makes sense that Lot tried to talk to me when we got back that night. Me and Van had been inseparable the whole party. I pull into the garage of my house as I continue to reminisce. I think of all the parties, the ones me and Lot snuck into in our Junior year where me and Van were always a little too close. All the times we snuck away to a quiet room and shared stolen kisses. All the times she cast her eyes down and pretended not to be hurt when I told her that we were just friends. The way her eyes would follow me around the room as I pretended not to notice or stare back when she wasn’t looking. I think about the way she looked today. Her face set and strong but her eyes so full of sadness and longing. It made me sick to my stomach. I tried to push the memory away. I need sleep.

#fanfics #van palmer x reader #vanessa palmer x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #van palmer #vanessa palmer #van palmer x reader angst #Van Palmer/reader #yellowjackets x reader

[misspearly1]

Chp1 || Chp2 || Chp3 || Chp4 || Chp5 || Chp6 || Chp7 || Chp8 || Chp9 || 

Pairing: Werewolf!Joel Miller x You (F!Reader)

Summary: Looking back on how your life has turned out this far, you often wonder if you got more than you bargained for when finally finding your safe haven within the walls of Jackson. They have it all; food, shelter and electricity, but what else did you come to discover that lives within this thriving community? And how did that discovery change your life?

WC: 16.3k

Warnings: 18+ Content, Minors DNI. Enemies to lovers. A little bit of angst. Mentions of Anxiety. A little bit of violence (Reader and Joel get mad at someone). Lots of sexual tension and teasing. Smut. Foreplay. Unprotected PIV. (Stay safe ya'll). If I have missed anything in the warnings, do please call it out for me my loves.

AN: Okay my loves, this is a big chapter lmao. There’s a lot of fiction here and some backstories to characters. Some things have came from the web, TV shows/Movies I have watched, and there are some things that I just made up myself. I hope you enjoy darlings. I don't think the next chapter will be as big. (This chapter was hard to post, tumblr kept bugging out on me 😭)

The moon up above lights your way ahead as the trees whisper a direction for you to follow. 

There’s a light breeze amongst the snowy surroundings you find yourself in, but your intuition is blowing a gale. Weirdly, you do not feel lost. You feel like you’re on the right path, listening to the whispering winds and letting your gut instincts guide the way.

You shouldn’t even be out here to begin with, but Joel drove you out here. His stupid accusations drove you out of Jackson and now your boots crunch their way through the sea of snow, searching for something. 

You don’t even know what you’re looking for, but anything is better than taking the spotlight of Jackson’s traitor. You couldn’t stand being there for a second longer and acted in the heat of the moment to leave. It’s for the best anyways.

Bringing a hand up to your chest with a wince, the tightness was fading now but the fact it was still there proves just how hurt you are from what the townsfolk said about you. 

Their voices linger like a dark cloud hanging above your head. ‘You’re one of them’, ‘your people killed our people’, ‘Jackson doesn’t welcome you’ and lastly, but most painfully, ‘you caused this’ - that one came from Jake, it hurt the moment he said it and it still hurts now like an open wound. 

It hurts because you actually believe that it’s true. It can’t be a coincidence that the very same group of bandits that chased you through the forest showed up at Jacksons gates one month later and breached the walls. They followed you and tore the chance of safe haven from your grasp. You were just starting to settle, people of Jackson were warming up to you, but now they all see you as a traitor. 

Halting your walk to ease the burn in your calves, you also needed a moment to breathe through those arising feelings of a panic attack. It wasn’t as powerful as the one you had two hours ago in the streets of Jackson, but you could feel it coming and you wanted to stop it beforehand.

The stress and anxiety around the situation still remains and you need to rid your mind of all bad energy. You need to stay focused on your path, which right now is showing a trail in the snow. Your gut was telling you to follow the trail, so you did.

Even though the snow is heavier here, it’s effective with reflecting the light in all directions, therefore lighting the way through perfectly at this time of night. There was an obstruction up ahead, just barely visible as it peeks between the tree and the closer you got, the more details you could make out.

It was a building, the backside of a building. The snow was covering the windows so you weren’t able to look inside, but after placing a hand to the wall and walking around till you found the entrance, your mouth fell open with surprise. 

Library. You found the library. 

A mountain of snow covering the entrance hid the sign, but you saw it as clear as day. This is the library - Eugene's outpost. That would mean you’re on the creek trails and there’s a ski lodge around here somewhere, you remember reading about it on the notice board yesterday.

Turning slowly on the spot, you looked around to access the surroundings and saw that the path continues through the trees with what looks like a main road at the end. You squint your eyes to focus on the objects in the distance. It looked like cars. Snow covered cars dotted here and there in the middle of a snowfield. 

There might be a town nearby to tell you where you are, but first things first is checking out Eugene's hideout. Intuition brought you here for a reason and curiosity to know why made you turn around and approach the entrance.

There’s no way Eugene is regularly using this outpost, you have to climb over the little bank of snow to reach the doors and they were cracked open enough for you to slip through, but certainly not enough for a man of Eugene’s size. 

You could just leave this place and move on, you’ve left Jackson and your investigations are obviously over with, but something drew you here and that’s got to mean something. Walking through a white blanket of snow with any direction to walk towards and you just miraculously stumble upon the library? That isn't a coincidence. That’s a sign. 

A sign sent from who? You wonder while walking through the library and still letting your intuition guide you. Walking past a chained door that was covered on the other side, you stop at a copier room at the back of the building and look through the window to see another door leading somewhere else.

You had a choice here: leave and forget about ever finding this place or smash the window and give in to what your gut is screaming at you to do. A break lay on the floor by your feet and that was just another sign you followed.

Picking it up and throwing it, the glass shattered and you climbed through to the other side. Then you walk towards that door that leads to the unknown, but stop to look at a little pendant hanging from a board on the wall. ‘Eugene Linden. 000314’ is what the engraved markings read, it’s a firefly pendant, shedding a little more light on who Eugene is or was. 

Reaching for the handle, you push through to the other room and immediately take note of how it’s just another section to the library. A kids area with toys and books. Ok…Don’t give up just yet. Your brows furrow with determination as you take a step inside. Walking past the pile of dusty toys and books, you round the corner and see a bed beside another small room. The door was covered and chained from the other side. 

“This is what Eugene’s hiding?” You sigh, scratching your head. It’s just an outpost, nothing special. A bed against the wall, a couple cabinets, a small table with a portable cooker on the top and clothes in the corner, and they were definitely Eugene’s clothes. You could tell. 

In the last two hours you have led yourself to believe that you’re on the right path walking through the woods and have found the library for a reason, but there’s nothing here. It only looks like a place for Eugene to rest. It looks like that. Perching your hands to your hips in thought, you wondered if this was just a front for something else and walked into that little room with the chained door. 

There was a small weapons station and a generator. There’s cables running through this room and into the next, with multiple lamps sitting around and a mini fridge. Suppose that’s what the genny is for?

Reaching for the chain, you figured there couldn’t be any harm in using this outpost for an hour or two before moving on. A little rest, some food and drink then you’ll move on through the trail in hopes of finding a town, maybe even the ski-lodge in case there is anything there worth checking. 

You’re quite disappointed that there wasn’t anything here, you thought Eugene was hiding something for sure but it doesn’t matter anyways because you’re not hunting the identity of the werewolf anymore. You left Jackson and all of that behind.

After getting the generator up and running, you walked back into the room where the bed was and tilted your head with a confused expression to your face. The floor lit up. Light was shining through the gaps in the wood. 

Standing above it and kneeling down slightly to look inside, three prominent colours peeked through the gaps. White, blue and yellow. That’s a basement and there’s something down there, it looks like plants of some kind. Focusing on all of the cables that ran along the floor, you could see some of them splitting off to different sources but a double cable zip tied together ran along the floor towards the entrance you came in from. 

You followed the wires, expecting it to lead you back into the copier room but you were wrong. It leads towards a bookcase in a dark corner. It’s very easy to miss, you completely overlooked it when you first entered but now the light glares through from the other side, lighting it up clearly for you to see now. It’s a trap door - a secret entrance. 

After noticing the markings on the floor - another thing you missed - you walked towards the bookcase and held onto the side to slide it open, however it was harder than you thought it would be and you struggled. Grunting and huffing as you tried with all your might to get it open, it still wasn’t budging, so you place your back to the wall and bring a foot up instead. 

You closed your eyes and gritted your teeth through the strain you were putting on your ankle, yet it still wouldn’t move. Dropping your foot with defeat, you sighed with exhaustion and started looking at the books instead.

One of them could be hiding a switch. You thought while rummaging through the shelves, however the quiet sound of a floorboard creaking behind you immediately put you on high alert and you turned quickly to throw a book at whatever it was. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” You cringe, pulling your hands over your mouth. The book smacked Tommy in the face, even though he didn’t flinch or stumble back at all from the contact, you still felt bad for doing that to him. “Um… Why are you here?” You ask, wondering how he even found you to begin with. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Sighing a chuckle, he smiles a genuine smile, although his eyes scream sorrow, then Tommy clears his throat with a soft shake of his head. “I came looking for you, to bring you back, Y/N.” What? Why would he do that? I can’t go back there. “I can’t force you to come home sweetheart, but I want you to know that there’s always a place for you in Jackson - always, no matter what.” 

“Your people hate me, Tommy.” You retort, dropping your gaze to hide how much pain those words brought you. “Two, maybe three people in Jackson actually took the time to get to know me and see that I am not a threat to them, but the whole town hates me. Why would I go back to that?” 

“Because they don’t hate you.” He takes a careful step closer, not wanting to make you feel any more uncomfortable than you already were. “What they said about you came from fear. They didn’t mean it and you have more than three people who care about you, sweetheart. I’m here aren’t I? I care about you.” 

“Jake…” You shake your head, gulping back the lump in your throat. “Your wife, your brother, that group who circled me and blamed me for what those bandits did. They all hate me. Everyone heard the things they said and you think I’m going to be welcomed back with open arms? I won’t be. People will talk, they’ll stare and judge Tommy. All I want is a place to call home.” 

“Jackson is your home.” Tommy takes another step closer. Standing right before you now, he carefully places a finger under your chin and lifts your head to look at him. “Me an’ Joel have a lot of explaining to do. What he caused with those rumours isn’t forgivable and I understand if you don’t ever want to come back to Jackson because of it, but could you find somewhere in your heart to give me a chance to explain?” 

You furrow your brows with both intrigue and confusion, but before you could ask any of the sudden questions you now have, Tommy moves closer and reaches for something behind you. “I want to show you something.” He says, slipping his fingers behind the bookshelf and unlocking the door before pulling back to look at you. “I’ll explain everything, answer any questions you have and you can decide if you want to come back to Jackson or not, deal?” 

Nodding to him, you understand what Tommy is about to do and it’s something you’ve been wanting to know for the last month. The werewolf. He’s going to show you what’s in this basement and share everything he knows.

“What about Joel?” You ask out of a sudden thought crossing your mind. “Does he know you’re showing me this? His rumours are the reason I’m out here anyways, it could have been avoided if he just told me about the werewolf.” 

“I know.” He nods, expressing a remorseful smile. “I don’t like people knowing about it, my brother is just trying to protect us.” 

Mouth slowly falling open, a thousand thoughts rush through your head as Tommy opens the bookshelf for you then steps back to pull a rag over his mouth and nose. “I can’t go inside. Wolfsbane is what’s down there, Y/N -” He avoids looking into your eyes, shaking his head. “-It will kill me if I go down there, I can’t go with you.” 

“Oh my God.” You gasp. Not knowing what thing to focus on first, the fact that you can smell the aromas coming upstairs, spicy and sweet, described just like wolfsbane, or the fact that Tommy is the werewolf. Your mind entered an overwhelming state of confusion and disbelief. You didn’t think he was the werewolf, your suspicions landed on Eugene and you directed all of your attention on him. 

The sound of Tommy's choking coughs snap you out of it and you ask with worry. “Is this stuff harming you? Should we move?” 

“I should move but you can go look if you wa-” The man couldn’t even finish his sentence as you close the bookshelf and wrap an arm around his bicep. Walking into the copier room and closing the door, Tommy sat down on a chair underneath an open window and removed the rag to breath in the fresh air. 

“Tommy, start talking.” You take a seat also, holding your hands to each side of your face, still in utter shock and disbelief. “I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t plan on hurting you either. I only ever wanted the truth…” Breathing a sigh, you lower your hands and shake your head. “A-are you really saying you’re the werewolf? You’re not lying to me… All this time, it was you?”

He nods, watching your brows furrow and lips move like you’re about to ask a million questions, but you couldn’t manage to spill a single one as you processed what he’s saying. A thought crosses his mind and he acts on it, in hopes of showing you the truth.

Holding your eye contact, Tommy’s eyes begin to glow and he watches your expression soften. Two soul penetrating hazel brown eyes, glowing like gold. You’ll never forget the eyes of the werewolf. The werewolf that saved your life. 

“It was you…” You whisper, lips trembling. “You saved me from the bandits and brought me to the wall for Joel to find me.”

“Um, not quite.” Tommy shakes his head, eyes returning to normal after he blinks. “Joel was there too, but you either don’t remember or you didn’t see him.” Your expression conveys your lack of remembrance and Tommy doesn’t waste a second to explain. “My brother got there before me, sweetheart. He’s a lot faster than me, and a lot stronger too.” 

“Wait-wait-wait..” Holding up a hand, you were growing more disoriented by the second, learning an overwhelming amount of information. “What exactly are you saying Tommy? Joel was there too, he’s a lot stronger and faster than you? What do you mean?” 

“He means I was there.” Joel answers, his voice vibrating through your body as he moves to stand in the doorway leading into the copier room. “I heard you whimpering as you ran. I could even hear your heartbeat, Y/N. It was pumping out of your chest.” Joel looks at his brother briefly before looking back at you. He even smirks a little at the way your eyes were popping out the sockets. “I got there before my brother did because I’m stronger and faster.”

“Holy shit…Your eyes.” You gasp for a second time in the space of five minutes. Joel’s eyes were glowing red. Like two rings of fire burning into your soul, they were beautiful yet terrifying at the same time, and he found it amusing when confirming your thoughts out loud. “Me and Tommy are werewolves Y/N. Both of us were there that night. My brother brought you back to Jackson while…. While I took care of those assholes who chased you.” 

“W-why...Jesus why lie?” You raise your voice, feeling like an idiot. “And what about Eugene?! Is he a werewolf too?” 

Both Joel and Tommy chuckle at that remark, but the younger Miller stops immediately after seeing the look on your face. “No, it’s just us as far as we know, but Eugene knows about us.” 

“But you let me spend this last month thinking I am crazy!” You snap, pushing your chair back as you stand. “I get it. It’s a secret you don’t want people knowing about, but you!” You point an accusatory finger at Joel. “You have stopped at nothing to gaslight me into thinking that what I saw wasn’t real.”

Turning to Tommy as he tried to intervene and calm you down, you pointed at him too. “And you’re no better! You could have told me. I just wanted to know that it was actually a werewolf that saved my life and it wasn’t all a fucking dream that I made up to deal with the trauma - excuse me for dealing with a near death experience like a normal human being while you two think it’s funny!” 

Blowing past Joel, you exit the room and make your way towards the exit. Tommy moves off his seat to follow you, but Joel holds his hand out and shakes his head, stopping him. “No, this is on me brother, I should fix this.”

“Joel.” Tommy calls after his brother, then sits back down with a pessimistic sigh. “She hates your fucking guts right now.” 

Tommy uses his abilities to listen to his brother breaking out into a light jog, chasing after you out of the library. He could hear two sets of boots crunching in the snow, then the sound of your sniffles as fought back the tears when arguing with Joel.

Your emotions were powerful, Tommy took note of that the moment he met you that night in the forest. He feels everything you feel. The man didn’t have to focus on the conversation between you and his brother to know what’s going on out there, just focusing on the powerful emotions you were emitting told him enough. 

You are hurt and angry, hesitant. You feel lost, unsure if you should trust Joel because the next emotion Tommy feels is… lust? It’s very brief, like a flickering light in a blanket of fog, but it was there for a second and gone in the next. Tommy felt it and as soon as he did, he blocked everything out as you talked to Joel. 

“Just leave me alone, I don’t want to listen to your useless apologies.” Ending the argument, you turn to walk away but Joel grabs your hand and pulls you back to him. He was holding you so close that your breasts pushed up against his chest as he shook his head. “Well that’s too bad because you’re gonna listen to my apology anyway - I am sorry for what I did to you.” 

“Like I said, it’s useless.” You shrug, trying with everything you’ve got to hide how you really feel to a werewolf that can fucking sense it. He can feel what you feel, you know he does but instead of smirking like the usual big-headed asshole that he is, Joel only nods in agreement. “I know. I just wanted you to know that it was never my intention to get the town to turn on you like they did. I may have fucked up my chances with you and I can live with that, but don’t leave your home because of me, Y/N.” 

“Your chances?” Scoffing, you shake your head slowly at him. “What chances, Joel? There wasn’t any to begin with. You made it very clear how much you didn’t like me when we first met in the clinic and therefore I do not like you either.” 

“Darlin’ don’t lie to yourself, I am a werewolf.” He smiles briefly, then looks down to your lips, holds his gaze there for a moment then looks back into your eyes. “You know how powerful your emotions are? It’s more than the average person let me tell yer.” Joel chuckles dryly, rolling his lips together. “There’s been a moment once or twice now where I could have kissed you, fully knowing you would have liked it but… I’d much prefer you to kiss me instead, in your own time when you’re ready.” 

“Um-hum.” You agree to disagree with what he is saying. There has been a moment where you wanted to kiss Joel, but right now? Now isn’t the time - you’re still too upset with him over the things he has done.

Pulling away from his grasp, he lets you go and you continue your walk along the trail. You want to forgive him, but you’re not quite ready to just yet. Time is needed for you to get over it and process everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours.

“Go get Tommy, we’re leaving.” You yell over your shoulder, hugging your jacket to stay warm. “I don’t know how to get back to Jackson on my own.” 

You may be upset right now with the Millers, more with Joel than anyone else, but going back to your home in Jackson sounds like a great idea. Werewolves are real, two of them saved you from death and you did find a safe haven after spending a long time searching for it. None of it was a dream - all of it was real and you can finally let it rest now that you know the truth. That’s all you wanted, the truth. 

Walking to the end of the trail, you waited for Joel and Tommy to catch up as the direction to go in next was lost on you. Left, right, or straight ahead were the options and you looked at all three, wondering if that intuition you had early could take a guess for you. Going straight ahead felt right for some reason, you don’t know why of course, but something felt right with that direction. 

You turn to check on the men upon hearing their boots wading through the snow, but tilt your head in wonder as to why on earth Tommy was walking by himself with clothes in his hand. Where is Joel? You wonder. 

I’m right behind you, but don’t freak out when you see me…please.

Shrieking, you stiffen like a rod with the presence behind you, it was casting a shadow in the snow in front of you, but what is most surprising is the sound of Joel’s voice that didn’t enter your ears. It came through your mind.

Tommy approaches as you still stand on the spot, apparently frozen in place, and he chuckles warmly. “Don’t be so afraid, girl. I know we look scary as wolves, but Joel looks like a cute cuddly dog, I promise.” 

Joel growls with that comment from his brother and you feel it blow across your back. It makes you gasp, but your eyes remain glued to Tommy’s face, more particularly at the way he tilts his head back to look at his brother behind you. How fucking big is he? You wonder again, completely forgetting that they both can hear your thoughts. Tommy laughs again and his eyes lower, then he then looks at you. “Turn around and you’ll see for yourself.” 

“You and your brother are not normal people, and that’s not even including the fact you’re werewolves.” You jibe out of nervousness, turning around reluctantly, the first thing that came into view was black fur. It was so dark, like the infinite darkness of the night sky up above. Joel’s fur shone bright like a star against the white snow all around him, it was soft and fluffy. Then you looked at his face - the face of a wolf. 

He was laying down on the floor, hiding his true size but his head was large and his ears too, they were pointing upwards as he looked up at you. Strands of greying fur around the eyes and mouth, with a big shiny snout, it was bizarre to look at an animal that is so expressive and beautiful, yet equally terrifying at the same time.

And it’s even more bizarre that this animal is Joel. He looks magnificent, magical. And his eyes were most extraordinary. Bright neon red with an expanded black pupil in the middle, they were mesmerizing to look at, like they were sucking you into a comfortable trance. 

If it wasn’t the warm cloud of air exhaling from his nose, you wouldn’t think he was real. Still looking up at you as you stare with fascination, Joel doesn’t blink or move a muscle, he just remains as still as a statue until your heart settles back to a normal beat. I ain’t that terrifying, am I? He asks, unintentionally startling you as you jolt with surprise. 

“Stop that.” You retort, looking between Joel and Tommy. “Don’t read my mind and stop talking to me telepathically, it’s freaky.” 

“As you wish.” Tommy holds a hand over his heart, pledging his promise and when you look back down to Joel, he winks, the action bringing a small smile on your lips, however you digress with the last issue at hand. “Okay so this is what you look like as a werewolf laying down, but… How tall are you? Tommy was damn near looking at a giant behind me just a moment ago.” 

Now Joel finally moves, starting by bringing his two paws out just in front of your feet, which were abnormally large, and very slowly stands up. Your neck cranes backwards and your eyes widen with shock. Eight foot tall easily, maybe even nine.

It was incredible how tall he is as a wolf. You felt puny and small compared to him and it really made you realize how weak you are. It’s a good thing you never wanted to hurt the werewolves and start a war because it’s a war that you’d surely lose.

“Thank you.” You blurt out, looking into Joel’s red eyes then over to Tommy’s normal, human eyes. “Thank you for saving my life and thank you for telling me the truth about you both. I’ll keep your secret, but Joel-” You look back at him, holding his eye contact with a serious tone of voice. “-The next person that comes along who knows about a werewolf in Jackson, don’t make the same mistake twice. Make up a believable lie or tell them the truth, but don’t ever do that shit again. You hear me?” 

Bowing his head slowly with closed eyes, he whispers ‘loud and clear darlin’, before lifting his head again and turning around to lead the way home which was surprisingly straight ahead. You were right earlier about which direction to take. I have a good sense of direction. You thought, and forgot for a third time that the men can hear you, though they didn’t really show any interest. 

You feel more at ease now accepting the brothers and their supernatural abilities, but it makes you wonder if they have ever listened to you before. You have a lot of conversations in your head and have said some things about Joel before too.

He probably did listen to my thoughts, and most likely is now. You narrow your eyes, watching Joel like a hawk for any tell-tale signs that give himself away; however he gave none and still showed no interest in what you were thinking, but that didn’t convince you at all and you wanted to test it again, just for your own amusement. 

Tommy is the better werewolf and I bet he is stronger too. You think with a smirk on your lips, yet there still was no reaction from Joel. Wow, his fur is grey in a lot of places. I guess his age shows through the wolf side of him too. Poor old dog. Still no interest or reaction, but you stifle a giggle from all the enjoyment you’re getting out of this. If Joel is listening, you know that he is biting his tongue to stop himself from replying to you. 

A cold breeze puts a stop to your games as you shiver and hug your jacket again. It’s well after midnight by now and you have another two hours to go before reaching the gates of Jackson. Laying in a warm bed buried beneath two blankets sounds perfect right now and you wished you could get there quicker. 

“Y/N.” Tommy calls your name and you look over to see him shaking off his jacket. “Here, take this.” You tried to protest, worrying that he is going to be cold but he reminded you that he is a werewolf that is constantly running a high temperature. “We can handle the cold, don’t worry.” 

Nodding, you close your eyes briefly to relish in the heat of his jacket. It felt like it had just come out of the dryer and it stayed like that for a while too. For a moment you started to work up a sweat, but as his warmth faded from the fabric and the cold started to work its way back, you were satisfied with the temperature that wearing two jackets brought, keeping you nice and cosy.

As the first hour passes, you yawn excessively with exhaustion setting in your bones and that apparently was enough for Joel to take action. He stopped walking and leaned down to bite the back of your jacket gently before lifting you off the ground to put you on his back.

Kicking and complaining the whole time he did this, his next words silenced your grumbling. You need to rest, Y/N and besides, this poor old dog can manage carrying you home. 

Oh, so you were listening… You smile bashfully, shaking your head. The offer to carry you home was nice, although it felt a little funny to be on the back of a wolf, as if you were riding a horse, but it’s a lot bigger, warmer and fluffier. Looking down to Tommy, you wanted to see how high up you are, but were surprised to see that he wasn’t there. 

A branch snapping behind you catches your attention and you turn to see him coming out of the trees - as a wolf, carrying two sets of clothes with his teeth. The sight of him walking alongside Joel really emphasized the size difference. Tommy is a big wolf too, but Joel is much bigger. 

“So, is it the older you are the bigger the wolf you are?” You giggle, watching the way Joel and Tommy glance at each other and roll their eyes. They didn’t answer which only fuels you to make another remark, though this time you moved closer to Joel’s ears to ask. “Or does it go by how much of an asshole you are?”

Ha ha, very funny, Joel fake chuckles then warns, hold on tight darlin’. 

Gripping his fur just in time, he starts running alongside Tommy and you gasp with a rush of adrenaline flowing through your veins. The speed was phenomenal. The trees were blurry as they passed you, like you were going fifty miles per hour in a car down the highway. It was exciting and a little frightening too. 

On a hot summer’s day you probably would enjoy this as the breeze blows through your hair with the sun beating down on your skin, but right now it’s just making you colder. Joel didn’t need to read your thoughts or wait for you to ask, he could feel all the emotions you were feeling and slowed back down to a comfortable pace again. 

If anyone were to be out in this neck of the woods at this time of night - which isn’t uncommon nowadays - then they would be in for quite the surprise seeing two werewolves with a small human riding on the back of one of them.

The image surely looks weird, and it feels weird too but it’s starting to grow on you. Joel is soft and comfy, prompting you to run an explorative hand through the fur on the back of his neck. You just wanted to see what it feels like and it was a nice sensation on your fingers. And Joel liked it too. 

You could tell he liked it from the way he tilted his head slightly, as if leaning into your touch, and from the low humming growl emitting through his body beneath you. Then, the man took it upon himself to tell you how much he likes it. Keep doing that, darlin’, he says, making you blush as you scratch his neck for a couple seconds then pull your hand back. 

On your right, Tommy was looking at you with an expression you can only describe as smirking. Eyes narrowed with the corner of his lip pulled back into a smile, he huffs dryly and looks ahead again. It was just a scratch, you have hardly forgiven Joel yet, and are making the most of teasing him wherever you can.  

Time flew by much quicker with the help of Joel carrying you home and before you knew it, he and Tommy stopped just before the treeline outside of Jackson. We’re here, hang on and let me help you get down. Says Joel as he slowly lays down to the floor so you can jump off without breaking your ankles. Once your feet hit the snowy ground below, both of them went off into the trees then shrunk down to their regular human forms and got dressed. 

Seeing Joel and Tommy’s faces brought a familiar and comforting sensation. Their wolf sides were interesting to see, but their human forms are what you’re used to. Together, you three emerge from the treeline and walk across the field towards the gates of Jackson and when the doors open, you are met with a commotion of worry and joy. 

It was a crowd of people, at least twenty, all bombarding you with questions regarding your safety and if you were okay. A welcome back party that you didn’t expect, but greatly appreciated. Amongst the crowd of course was Melinda and she pushed way to the front to grab you by the arms then pull you in for a tight hug.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” She whispers into your hair, squeezing the air out of your lungs. “I’ve been so worried about you.” 

“I’m so sorry, Mel.” Apologizing as she pulls back, she brushes the hair away from your eyes to look at you. The woman smiles then scrunches her nose as she shakes her head. “I forgive you. So long as you’re home safe and you’re staying here.” 

“I am.” You nod, moving in to hug her again. Over her shoulder stood Tracy and Jack, both expressing an empathetic smile. “Glad to have you back.” Jack says, with Tracy adding to that. “How on earth did you not freeze to death out there? You must be so cold.”

Explaining everything that happened to Mel, Jack and Tracy, you left out all of the details about Joel and Tommy being werewolves of course, and they in turn explained what happened in Jackson after you left.

Maria gathered everyone into the church and shared that two people had died from the raid. Martha and David, an elderly couple who didn’t make it to their basement in time when the alarm was sounded, they unfortunately died at the hands of the bandits and a funeral is being held for them tomorrow. 

You expected bad news, but this is far worse than you imagined. It brought you a great deal of pain knowing that two innocent people lost their lives. And you couldn’t stop the guilt either. The bandits followed you here and you lowered your head in shame, however Mel placed her thumb and forefinger to your chin, lifting your head back up. “This - is not your fault, my darling girl. The bandits followed one of the patrollers home. You aren’t the reason for Martha and David’s death. The scum who raided our community are - not you, okay?” 

“Oh… That’s awful Mel.” You sigh, shaking your head. “Is the patroller okay? Has anyone spoken to them and told them that it’s not their fault either. I still feel so bad.” 

Mel cringes, as if she was reluctant to say what she really wants to say before a voice you recognise steps forth from the crowd. “It was me, the bandits followed me home.”

Jake - it was Jake who stepped forward. “I blamed you for this because I couldn’t handle the guilt, but I confessed as soon as I heard you left Jackson.” He apologizes, but unfortunately for him, you were too overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions to care - one of them being anger. 

Moving away from Mel’s arms, you couldn’t stop yourself from acting on your heat of the moment impulses as all you wanted to do was slap Jake across the face. That fucking asshole joined in on the crowd to blame you when he knew he was the one who led the bandits here!

Jake fanned the flames to the raging fire of blame people put on you just to save himself. You were furious and out of control, but seconds before you reached his position, a fist came out of nowhere on your right and punched Jake on his jaw. 

Joel was the one who delivered that punch and Jake fell right down on his ass, holding a hand to the already bruising skin, however Joel didn’t stop there. He knelt down to be at Jake's level before delivering some harsh words on your behalf. “Everybody makes mistakes son. I can forgive you for the bandits following you here, but putting the blame on her is spineless behaviour -” Joel leans in to whisper a threat. “-don’t ever go near Y/N again.” 

Some of the things Joel said was a tad too far compared to what you would have said, but Jake nods three times quickly then looks at you, still holding his jaw as he apologizes again. He then pulls himself off the ground and hastily walks through the crowd with two friends at his side, checking if he was okay.

You felt sorry for him after the humiliating treatment he had just received from Joel in front of a crowd of people, but you can’t deny that a small part of you found it so fucking sexy seeing Joel defend you like that. 

“Goddammit. Why did you do that?” The voice of reason sighs with frustration. Shaking his head with disapproval, Tommy walks over to his brother and mutters a few quiet words into his ear, no doubt reprimanding him for punching another resident in Jackson.

Joel nods to his brother then turns to walk away, and a little pang of sadness strikes you then as you wanted to speak to him, to thank him or maybe ask what he was thinking by doing that. 

I can still feel your emotions, you know. Joel says, bringing a small smile to your face. I’ll come see you later, we’ll talk then. 

Nodding, although he can’t even see you doing it, you turn to Tommy and ask what will happen now. “Will he get in trouble for that?” 

“I wish.” Tommy laughs, then shakes his head. “I told him to go fix his mistake. Maria has probably told that kid it isn’t his fault and now Joel has just made it his fault in front of everyone.” 

“Yeah, I see your dilemma.” Sighing, you scratch the back of your head looking for a way to help but nothing comes to mind and instead, you apologize for possibly making things worse than what they already were, however Tommy shushes you. “N-hm. None of that now, girl. You don’t have anything to apologize for. I told you when we first met, Joel just expects the worst in people these days.” 

“What you really mean to say is that he’s an asshole.” You retort with a laugh, to which Tommy nods in agreement and laughs too. “And that wasn’t the first time we met, remember?” Nudging his side, it was like a little inside joke you have now that you know about him being the werewolf that saved you. 

After saying your goodbyes to everyone, you started walking down the street to make your way home. Thankfully in the winter months, the sun doesn’t rise as early and you can have a lay in tomorrow without the disturbance of light blaring through your window. Mel ordered you to take the day off, which is funny because you’ve only worked there for three days now, but you accepted her order without any complaints nonetheless.

A day off sounds good, you have a lot of questions for Joel or Tommy about werewolves that you’d like to know about; too many to answer in a little chat with the older Miller before tucking in for the night, who was currently sitting on your porch steps waiting for you. 

“Hey.” You say before taking a seat beside him. 

“Hi darlin’.” Joel replies, playfully nudging his knee into yours, then the man sighs and turns to face you. “Go on, spit it all out. I know you’re dying to ask.” 

“I don’t know which one to ask first.” Shrugging, you turn to the side also and lean against the post on your railing. “Just… I don’t know, start from the beginning and tell me whatever. I’ll ask questions as they pop into my head.” 

“Does this mean I’m forgiven now?” Joel wrinkles his lips with raised brows, to which you quickly reply. “No. I still hate you.” 

“Alright, fair enough.” Joel chuckles and leans back to get comfy. You could have the best poker face in the world and be an expert liar, but no emotion or scent gets past the werewolf inside of him.

Things haven’t changed, he still doesn’t mind waiting for you to feel ready to kiss him. Your pace is best as he is already on a slippery slope with you at the moment. Scratching the back of his head as he thinks where he should start, he figures he should start from the beginning - his first shift. “Me and Tommy have the werewolf gene in our family, and he activated his gene first when he killed a man…” 

As he trails off with the events in his life, you sit quietly and learn through his way of telling a story that Joel and Tommy come from a long line of werewolves and the gene is activated when killing another human. His grandpa activated the gene in world war two and spent the rest of his life in a cabin up in the mountains, away from society and Joel’s father made his way through life and died at the age of seventy - without activating the gene, however with the world ending and the dead rose to life, the Miller brothers had been dealt a hand they never thought they would. The death of Joel’s daughter. 

Not only did you learn that Joel had a daughter before Ellie, you also learned that she died at the hands of a Fedra Officer who followed his orders to kill. Tommy shot that man to save Joel from death and therefore activated the werewolf gene. A question did pop into your mind, but you held off asking it out of respect. The way Joel’s voice shook as he shared that time of his life with you, withheld you from the urge to know her name. You didn’t want to focus on the subject around his daughter as he moved on from it to explain how he activated the gene. 

“Two days after, I killed a man out of rage.” He lowers his head in shame. “The guy was trying to steal our stuff and I could have fought him off without hurting him, but…” Joel shrugs, avoiding your eye contact. “But I wanted to hurt him and I did… I just didn’t stop.” 

“I can understand why you did it, but I can never understand how it feels to lose what you’ve lost.” You say softly, reaching out for his hand to reassure him, which he took and returned a gentle squeeze, reassuring you that he is okay before pulling his hand back and moving on with the story again. The loss of his daughter is still sore to talk about, you can tell, and you won’t push him for answers. Joel can tell you in his own time. 

“So anyways.” Joel sighs, trying to remember where he left off. “Me and Tommy shifted for the first time that month with the rise of the full moon and it was… it was just awful. We were scared and confused, in a lot of pain and we had zero control over our bodies for the entire night. Full moons are always bad, even now we can’t control our shifts on those days of the month.” 

“Wow, really?” You ask and Joel nods in reply. “I’m sorry that you both have to go through with that each month. Is it still painful?” Joel nods again, but this time sharing when the next full moon is. “You won’t see me and Tommy on Thursday. We’ll be away from Jackson when the full moon rises on that night.” 

“Oh.” You sigh, understanding a little more just how bad it is for him. “Will you both be okay though?” 

“Look at you, worrying about me.” Joel chuckles, leaning in a little while briefly looking down to your lips. “Yeah. We’ll be okay darlin’, just got to get through the night then we’ll be back Friday morning.”

“That’s good - good to know.” You whisper, using a phrase Joel used on you once with a smirk on your lips as you move back. He was leaning in, sneakily trying to close the gap to kiss you. Thinking this was as good a time as any to cut the conversation and head to bed, you stood from the porch and said goodnight. “I still have questions, but I’m ready for my bed Joel.” 

“So…” He stands also, speaking with a teasing tone. “I’ll come back tomorrow? You know, to answer all those questions for you.” 

“Maybe, I don’t know yet.” Returning the playful tone, your answer is yes, you want to know more about him but teasing him for now is fun. “I’ll let you know tomorrow. If you knock and I don’t answer, then maybe another time.” 

Shaking his head at you as he laughs, he bites his lip and whispers seductively. “Babydoll you do understand that I not only feel your emotions but…” He leans in to whisper, “But I can smell your pheromones too. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow when I knock on your door.” 

The man pulls away from you and walks down the steps of your porch, leaving you breathless and shocked. You’re aroused right now, and Joel can apparently smell that. I wonder what else a werewolf can do? You think to yourself as you head inside your house, to which Joel replies. I’ll show you all the things I can do tomorrow. He chuckles sinisterly, making you shake your head at him. You liked it, but you won’t admit that yet, not until you’ve had your fill of being angry with him, however his next words made you gasp with shock. 

I can see your dreams if I want to darlin’. 

Blushing as you walk up the stairs into your bedroom, you climb in bed and close your eyes with a smile on your lips, wondering about all the abilities that Joel has. His ability to see your dreams is most interesting as the memory of the wet dream you had about him last night pops into your mind. You wonder if he saw that. Acting like you aren’t attracted to him obviously doesn’t work as he knows. The werewolf within knows how much you’re attracted to Joel. 

Is it so wrong to make him wait though? You’re not ready just to forgive and forget so easily. A large part of you wants to kiss him, to feel his lips on yours and his hands on your body, but another large part of you is still angry. It’s like you forget about all the things he has done when you’re in his presence and only the good parts remain. There’s a warm aura around Joel and you wrap yourself up in it whenever you're with him. You often forget that he is an asshole and have to remind yourself. You should hate him - but you don’t. 

You understand Joel. You understand the reasons for his actions a lot more now, even if he did make you upset and leave Jackson thinking that you’re not wanted here. But you are wanted here. This is your home. Everything feels so right. Laying in your bed right now after the conversation you’ve shared with Joel on your front porch, you feel right where you belong. It’s almost too right…. 

Like you’re here for a reason. 

The Next Day

Making the most of your day off today, you didn’t plan on spending all your time in bed and are almost at your destination five miles out of Jackson with Tommy. Joel is tagging along too, he and his brother are going to show you all there is to know about their werewolf capabilities. And in order to do that, they need to be out of Jackson away from the people. The secret must be protected. 

You have had some time to think about it, and it really makes you wonder why the Miller’s don’t just tell the community their secret. You believe everyone would have an open mind about it and come to accept their differences. They might be terrified at first - just like you were - but having two supernatural wolves protecting Jackson is a huge advantage in this world. 

Joel and Tommy are like two unsung heroes. No one knows what they really do to protect the people living here in the community, not even you know. You’ve only known about the werewolves for a month and don’t know the extent of what dangers the two brothers put themselves in front of to protect Jackson. However, today you might get to know a little more about what they do. 

The destination is the ski lodge way up in the mountains. The first stop where you all will take a break and feed the horses before moving on. Your questions couldn’t wait any longer and the first one was why. “Why are you taking me so far out?” You ask Tommy, then make a joke. “Did Joel convince you to leave me there to die?” 

Giggling to yourself as the men chuckle, Tommy shakes his head and answers your question. “There’s a spot we use up there, it’s remote and out of the way. We aren’t taking you there to leave you, but we could leave Joel there instead if you want.”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” You nod, giving Joel a sideways glance and the man looked at you unamused with your plans today. Joel thought he’d be coming over to your house, sharing all that he knows in the privacy of your living room, however your bright idea to invite Tommy on a trip beyond the walls drove a pin in his hopes to get a kiss from you. 

You know yourself that you will cave and kiss Joel if you and him stayed in your home, talking about everything. Getting out of the house and out of Jackson with Tommy helps keep your mind off thinking about how Joel’s lips feel on yours. You and Joel know you will end up kissing each other, and all he is waiting for now is a moment alone with you, but you’re not going to give it to him. Just to be the asshole for a change. 

“Up ahead gang, we’re almost there.” Tommy points a finger. Looking to where he was pointing, you saw the ski lodge at the top of the hill on the edge of the mountain. It doesn’t look high, but when you turn around and look behind you, a pit in your stomach weighs heavy with fear. 

“Scared of heights?” Joel asks rhetorically. Sensing your fear, he already knows what you’re feeling right now and looks behind him with a shake of his head. “Don’t think too much about the height. It’s got a nice view up there and you’ll like it darlin’, I promise.” 

“Thank you.” You smile briefly then urge your horse to trot faster. Joel’s intense lingering gaze was doing something to you and you needed to move on quickly before falling into a trance. Approaching the entrance of the ski lodge, you pass the lift on your right and look up with amazement in your eyes. You’ve never been to a ski lodge before or seen what the lifts look like. There were two empty glass carts sitting at the top with a strong cable leading down the mountain. 

The ski lodge itself had a lot of glass windows, therefore allowing a lot of natural light to spill inside and providing a beautiful three-sixty view of the surroundings. After bringing the horses inside the entrance, you walk through the doors and take a look around. Above your head just as you entered was a sign reading ‘Bison Trail Ski Lift’, to your left was a long counter top with signs up on the wall stating what food and beverage items they sold, and on the right was a souvenir stall, selling shirts. 

This place is out of commission of course, there’s no one around anymore to take your order and to buy the shirts from, but there was a sentiment of nostalgia around everything you looked at. You simply enjoyed envisioning what it would have looked like back in the day with people walking through here with mugs of hot cocoa in their hands, or lining up for the lift outside wearing their winter gear. An experience you never had twenty years ago, but enjoyed thinking about now. 

This place was beautiful and a perfect place to stop for a break. It may be out of commission, but it’s still in good use for you, Joel and Tommy. Continuing through the building, you walk down the steps into the seating area. It was a large space with multiple places for you to choose where to sit. A table with magazines on the top and a patterned rug underneath beside three sets of sofas sat in front of the window and it looked nice, however you wanted to move to the back of the room and get a better view. 

Walking past another bar where people used to buy drinks, there were lots of wooden tables with parasols in the middle across the floor, all kept neat and tidy, giving you the sense that this place has either been taken care of by Joel and Tommy, or it’s just never had any visitors in the last two decades. The place was dusty, but not dirty. 

After finding a nice set of tables and chairs by the window at the far back of the room, you leaned on the window ledge to look out and beyond. As far as the eye could see, you saw nothing but miles upon miles of nature in all of its glory. Trees overgrown after years of replenishment, though they’re covered in snow, you can see specks of green and brown peaking through.

The terrain is substantial, wide open valleys with a vast amount of space and in the distance there was Jackson sitting in the middle of it all. You could see the tall wooden walls surrounding the town. Even from way out here, it still looks like a little bustling city. 

“Told you it had a nice view.” You smile at the sound of Joel’s deep voice behind you. He pulls out a chair and takes a seat while you continue to gaze across the land before your eyes, humming in agreement with him. He was right to make that promise, you do like the view up here, even if the height is a little worrying. 

Holding back your reaction as two glowing eyes appear in the glass window, it was Joel’s reflection from behind you and it made you feel a certain way seeing it. He was leaning back into his chair to put himself in your view before making his eyes glow then slowly look down at your body.

When your eyes met in the reflection, you couldn’t stop the blush from burning your cheeks. The way he was looking at you was like a man starved and you were a meal, ready to be devoured. Joel crooks a brow, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip ever so slowly, still looking at you with glowing red eyes. 

“Tommy.” You smirk while calling his brother's name. “Are you coming to join us or what? I want to know why your eyes are different from Joel’s.” 

Turning around and looking at Joel, who now showed his human coloured eyes while shaking his head at you, Tommy makes his way over to join you both at the table with a large flask and three small cups. He unscrews the cap and pours out some coffee into each of them before leaning back into his chair. “I’m not too sure what exactly made his eyes change but it’s only when we’re together that they’re red.” 

“It’s because I’m the boss, little brother, that’s why.” Joel chuckles. Taking a cup from the table top and leaning back into his chair also. After sharing a brief laugh with them both about that comment then taking a sip of your coffee, you lower the cup to ask. “What do you mean when you’re together? Haven’t you always been together?” 

Both men shake their heads and it’s Joel that answers, sharing a little about the gap in the last twenty years where he was apart from his brother. “In the beginning, my eyes glowed the same like Tommy’s, but it was around the fourth or fifth shift that they turned red instead. They stayed like that for years, but when we got into a disagreement-”

“It was more than a disagreement.” Tommy interjects, cutting his brother off to laugh about it before quieting down again to let him continue. 

“When we had that argument that became too much and Tommy left me all on my own-” Joel laughs, returning a playful insult to his brother. “-My eyes went back to their original colour and they stayed like that for years until I was reunited with Tommy and the red came back.” 

“Wow. That’s weird.” Frowning, you know as much as Joel or Tommy at this point, but the only thing you could think of was the book Ginny gave you and what it said inside. “Could it be because you’re a pack when together? And Joel’s the leader?”

Watching their faces twist like you just said the moon is made of cheese, you roll your eyes and sigh. “I have a book back home. I don’t know how much of it is actually true, but some of the things in there have been true so far. It mentions things about wolves in packs having a leader.” 

“Well I don’t deny that Joel is more of a leader.” Tommy agrees, looking at you as he pays a compliment to his brother. “He’s always been that way. Always taking charge and guiding me, although a lot of the time we disagree.” 

“You’re brothers, that’s what brothers do.” You say before taking another sip of your coffee. Thinking about the book and what you read, you remembered reading something about Alphas, Omegas and Betas, therefore prompting you to ask Joel. “Do you think you’re the Alpha werewolf? That could be why your eyes are red.” 

“I don’t know, darlin’.” Shrugging, Joel lowers his coffee and leans forward to place his elbows to the table. “I don’t particularly care about how or why my eyes are red. I just do what I gotta do to keep me and my family safe. Besides, you think they’re hot, so that’s good enough for me.” 

“Oh my God.” You scoff, turning away to look out of the window as Joel and Tommy laugh at your rosy red cheeks. The game of tit for tat between you and him continues, but at least now you’re not at each other’s throat ready to kill each other. It’s fun and sweet, even if you are the centre of attention right now feeling called out. “That isn’t fair you know.” Whining about it jokingly, you turn to look at them both. “It’s not fair that you can read my mind, and I do remember asking you to stop that.” 

“Sorry.” Joel and Tommy say in unison. The younger Miller looks to his brother, holding a hand over his mouth to hide his smirk while Joel hides behind his cup of coffee. You narrow your eyes, watching them carefully as it looks like they were talking to each other without moving their lips. When Joel chokes on his coffee to break out with laughter, you shake your head at them both and ask. “What are you saying? I can tell you’re talking to each other, I ain’t dumb.” 

“Oooh, look at you. Suddenly you’re the expert on wolves.” Joel taunts between laughter, while Tommy buries his face into the palms of his hands. Waiting for them both to get it all out of their systems, you liked seeing this side of the Miller brothers. They both looked so comfortable and happy, laughing at your expense together like a pair of kids. 

What you liked most is that two days ago the steam would have been blowing out of your ears with annoyance being laughed at by Tommy and Joel, but now it’s so very different. It didn’t feel wrong in the slightest and it even made you giggle just listening to them both. After they settle down again, you move on with the conversation, but Tommy asks you a question instead. “Tell us a little about you, what was Y/N’s life before the world ended?” 

“Oh, um… I worked at my mom's store.” You smile with the memories flashing behind your eyes. “It was nothing special I suppose, but I loved every second working with her.” Joel and Tommy remain quiet with smiles on their faces as you continue. “She would find all these broken antiques and trinkets to fix up before selling, and it’s funny, you know because when I was really young, I thought her skills were like magic - I used to think there was no way my mom could fix that.” You laugh fondly, feeling a pang of sadness. “But she did. She fixed everything she found, made it look pretty again and sold it. My mom brought all those broken things back to life again… and she was magical to me.” 

Clearing your throat as a lump begins to form, you move on and share where and what you were doing the day of the outbreak. “I was with my mom - thankfully, and we were just about to open the store for the day when a crazed woman threw herself into the window.” You shake your head, looking at Joel and Tommy. “She wouldn’t stop throwing her head against the glass. Blood was everywhere, her eyes were… gone. And uh, anyways the glass began to break and I had a really strong feeling to get out of the way before she made it inside. So I took my mom’s hand and I ran with her… We didn’t stop running and that’s all we ever did, right up until she died eleven years later.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Tommy reaches across the table, offering his hand. Wiping the stray tear away from your eyes before taking his hand, you reassured him that you were okay. “Thank you, but I’m okay - really. My mom died in her sleep, and if you ask me that’s the best way to go.” 

“Sure is, darlin’.” Joel whispers, nudging his leg into yours from underneath the table. A small gesture that you appreciated from both men. It hurts to talk about these things, but it also feels good to say it out loud and get it off your chest. Taking a deep breath inward to collect yourself, you release Tommy’s hand and smile at him, showing them both that you’re okay. 

“So yeah. That was me before the outbreak.” Digressing with the story of your life, you share what happened after your mothers death. “I was on my own for a couple years before coming across a community in Idaho. I stayed there until someone got a little lazy with their job one day and a stalker got inside.” Joel and Tommy sigh, both understanding the severity of that mistake. “I’m sure you can picture what happened after that, but I ended up on the road again, looking for a place called Jackson that has big sturdy walls, providing food and shelter for survivors. And I found it six months later - just not the way I thought I would.” 

“You got more than you bargained for.” Tommy makes a light joke, easing your blues. “You came looking for Jackson and found two asshole werewolves instead.” 

Unanimously agreeing with that statement, all three of you share a light amount of laughter over Tommy’s comment. It’s true, you did get more than you bargained for, but you wouldn’t change how things have played out. It’s perfect. Everything is perfect. “I found my safe haven here.” You say, nodding to them both. “I know Jackson is where I’m supposed to be.” 

After finishing off your beverage of hot coffee and chatting some about your lives, you all prepare to get back on the horses and continue your ride to the next stop. The next stop is a cabin further up in the mountain, completely hidden away from society. Tommy shared earlier that he and Joel use that cabin during the night of a full moon. A place of rest after running wild for hours. 

Wondering why they wanted to bring you there, you quickly understood why when emerging from the trees and seeing it for yourself. The cabin was lavish, looking as if it was taken right out of a magazine and out here. Two padded swings sat on either side of the front porch and it looked beautiful on the outside. With lots of windows to provide natural light inside, the A-frame roof was covered in moss, giving it that naturistic touch, which paired beautifully with the dark mahogany wood. 

Following Joel and Tommy around the back of the cabin, there was a small stable to put all three of the horses inside. After they are safely put away, you walk around to the front and take a seat on one of the swings. “Okay fellers.” You clap your hands together, showing them that you’re ready. “Tell me why you brought me here. What do you have to show me?”

“You wanted to see what we could do, so let me show you first.” Joel chuckles, walking across the small field towards the trees. When he stops at one of the smaller ones, he looks at his brother and you with a smirk before pulling his hand back and punching through the bark. Mouth falling open, aghast with his supernatural strength, the wood began to splinter apart and the tree groaned on its way down to the ground, landing with a heavy thump. 

“Wow!” You grin, looking over at Tommy beside you, who wiggled his brows with pride in return, but when looking back to Joel, he asks if you were ready to see him shift and take a moment before nodding. The distance between you and him wasn’t that far away, but you lean forward to focus as his chest begins to expand, tearing the fabric of his shirt. Joel’s face slowly disappears and the furry face of a wolf takes over as he continues to grow legs with huge paws. It happened in the blink of an eye, yet you saw every millisecond of it with astonishment. 

Our voices hold great power, Y/N. Says Joel as he lowers his head like he was ready to pounce. Hold on a second, you’ll feel what I mean. 

A moment later, a vibration slowly ripples through your body, startling you. It didn’t hurt or feel uncomfortable, it was just startling. “What was that?” You ask, to which Tommy replies. “It was a growl emitting through your body, a quiet one. Joel could hurt you if he roars loud enough.” 

I would never hurt you, Y/N. Joel whispers in your mind, lifting his head as he begins to walk towards you. Sitting at the base of the steps in front of you, he had to lay down for you to see his face as he was taller than the roofing on the porch. Tommy takes a seat beside you, explaining each of his and Joel’s werewolf abilities in detail. “We’re more enhanced than the average human, but when we shift, the powers we have are amplified even more. We’re already strong and fast, but we become more when we’re a wolf.” 

“Yeah, I read about some of this stuff in that book back home.” You nod to them both, relaying what you already know. “Enhanced strength, speed, smell, healing and health. You and Joel, from what I understand, should never get sick. Is that right?” 

“That’s right.” Tommy nods, then leans back with a laugh. “But there is more to learn than what that book has written. “Our bite and scratches are infectious. We can kill a human with a nasty fever if we scratch them.” 

“Oh…” Your face contorts, cringing at the thought of what that would look like. “Only as a wolf or can you infect someone in human form?” 

“Just wolf.” Tommy replies, shaking his head. 

Sitting on the front porch together and sharing a long conversation, Tommy and Joel recite all of their abilities and everything they know about being a werewolf. You were growing more speechless with everything they shared, learning so much more than you could ever possibly fathom. Pain transference; the ability to absorb and alleviate pain from other people or creatures and can even heal, meaning Joel or Tommy could heal your injury or absorb your pain if you were hurt. 

Dream accessibility; Joel and Tommy can visibly see what someone is dreaming about, or they can give someone a dream too. The younger Miller shared his experiences of helping some of the children in Jackson when they were having nightmare troubles, while the older Miller remained silent. Which you picked up on right away, considering Joel didn’t tell you last night that he can give you dreams, not just see them. We’ll talk about that later. Is all you said about that to him. 

Memory transference; the ability to transfer (give or take) memories by inserting claws into the nape of an individual's neck. They could literally erase someone's mind if they wanted to. Empathy is amplified too, that’s why they can physically feel what other people feel, but that’s not all. Tommy shared that over the years, he and Joel have come to notice specific differences every month, some are substantial, while others are subtle and barely noticeable. 

“Well, what are the differences, what do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head with intrigue. 

“Fire is one of our weaknesses, but one occasion a fire broke out in my kitchen and I could hold my hand inside it.” Tommy explains, before looking at his brother. “After I put the fire out, I brought Joel over and held a lighter under his hand. It didn’t affect him either, but it should have.” 

“Was the month May?” A small smile spreads across your face with wonder. You have some knowledge about the moon and wonder if the things you learned as a child growing up correlates at all. After Tommy spent a moment trying to recollect if the month was in fact May, he nods with furrowed brows, curious to know what you know. 

“In the month of May, the moons that rise each night is known as the Fire Moon.” Still smiling as you share that information, the dots connect just like you thought they would and you took pleasure in explaining to them both how you knew this. “My mom came across this antique brass moon dial when I was younger. It was a clock, but instead of the numbers, it had all twelve different full moons of the year. May is the Fire Moon. I remember it clearly because I cried when she sold it.” 

“Do you remember them all? What about June?” Questions fleeing out of his mouth eagerly, Tommy could hardly contain his interest to know them all. “When May is over, the weakness of fire comes back, but then we can detect when someone is truly bad on the inside.” 

“Mirror Moon.” You laugh, shaking your head with disbelief. “The eyes are the mirror of the soul. You and Joel can see someone's soul in June or be immune to fire in May. This is just incredible!” 

Going through the twelve moons of the year and listening to everything Joel and Tommy can remember happening to them over the years, you learn more and more with each passing second. January in the Ice Moon, and it’s apparently one of the two months in the year where they both feel cold like a regular human does, every other month they go right back to normal, running a high temperature again. 

February is the Storm Moon, and Joel remembers on many occasions over the years being able to detect a storm coming in that month, not just physical ones, but mental ones too. Tommy agrees with him, reciting a time in Jackson when he suddenly got a strong urge to put Jackson on lockdown and sound the storm alarm. People thought he was crazy, but seconds after everyone got inside, the clouds above turned dark and a hurricane blew over.

March is the Wind Moon, and they both noticed how much faster they can run, as humans and as wolves. April is the Wild Moon, and they develop a connection with the animals in the wild. July is the Ghost Moon, and they each have noticed how the colour of their fur blends into the surroundings, almost making them invisible. August is the Lightning Moon, which provides Joel and Tommy immunity from electricity, another weakness that is lifted for one month. September is the Singing Moon, and it amplifies all of their powers. October is the Blood Moon, which unfortunately makes them aggressive, more so when they are in wolf form - and it also explains why Joel was acting like such a dick, you arrived here last month in October. November is the Frost Moon, the other month of the year where they actually feel the cold like a regular human. 

And finally, the last month of the year, December, is the Oak Moon. Suppose they saved the best for last as the experiences they’ve had over the years in that month are the most bizarre. Not only does their fur change to white, but on Christmas day, they can’t shift at all, and when the full moon rises at the end of that month, Joel and Tommy actually have the ability to control themselves, meaning they don’t have to travel far away from Jackson to get through the night as a wolf. 

Still chatting away to Tommy and Joel like there was no tomorrow, the time had gone completely over your heads and only upon noticing the afternoon sun lowering did you all realise. It was time to go back home, however you wanted to see inside the cabin. You’ve spent all your time out here, excitedly absorbing lots of information about werewolves and moons. 

“Can I see inside before we go?” You ask, looking through the window behind you. The inside looked just as beautiful as outside. The furniture was pristine, the ornaments handmade and decorative touches homey. As Joel and Tommy look at each other, nodding here or shaking their head there, you realise that they're having a telepathic conversation and wait until they're finished. 

“Would you like to stay the night?” Tommy turns to you with an offer that you can’t refuse. “I’ll radio Maria and let her know that we’ll be back tomorrow morning.” 

Nodding, you take him up on that offer and are about to jump out of your seat to hurry inside, however Joel shifts back into his human form, flashing his nudity to you. “Oh, Jesus Joel.” You panic, quickly tilting your face to the side as he walks up the steps. “You could give a warning before you do that, you know.” 

“I did.” He chuckles menacingly as he walks into the cabin. “But I only warned my brother, not you.” Because I knew you’d like what you saw darlin’, he whispers that part telepathically, eliciting you to shake your head with denial as the corners of your mouth pull into a smile. He was right, you did like what you saw. And all you can say is that he is big in all the right places. 

Heading inside with Tommy, you shook off your thoughts about Joel’s manhood for now and thought about how nice this cabin is instead. The lounge was cosy, although the room was a little cold, Tommy got to work right away and moved over to the fire to get it started while you looked around. 

You liked the layout, it was all open planned. An L shaped kitchen with a dark grey marble island in the middle and three bedrooms, each with their own bathroom and shower, this place looked more like a vacation home than a place for Tommy and Joel to ride out the night on a full moon. 

“How come you guys don’t tear up this place?” You ask while walking into the kitchen, making yourself at home by opening up the cupboards - which were empty of course. 

“Because we chain ourselves up in the basement.” Tommy answers before muttering a string of foul language under his breath after burning his fingers on the fire. “It’s too dangerous for us to be free roam on a full moon.” 

Understanding that, you then wonder how bad it gets for them. Joel shared a little about it last night, but you can’t help your curiosity to know how bad they are on the night of a full moon. Maybe one day when they’re comfortable enough, they will tell you about it, but for now, you won’t pry the information out of them just because you’re curious. 

As you round the corner of the kitchen leading to the hallway, you look at the slightly open door at the end of the hall and make a surprised sound when seeing a very naked Joel in the reflection of a mirror. He was getting dressed and you know you shouldn’t be watching him, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The man looks good from behind. His back is wide and tanned, chiselled with muscles, and his ass was really nice. Perfectly round and plump, however his legs prompted you to lick your lip. Thick thighs and strong calves. Joel Miller had a good looking pair of legs.

Quickly moving away before you are caught, the chances are that Joel already knows you were looking - he was probably hoping for it - but you didn’t want to let him have that satisfaction of catching you in the act of drooling over his body. The sound of static stole your attention and you turned to see Tommy messing around with the TV. “You have electricity up here?” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty neat right?” Tommy points to a big black device at his feet and you have no idea what it is. “Portable power source. It comes with a solar panel too, which is really handy.” He explains, talking enthusiastically like he was a child and that was the best toy ever. “It won’t produce a lot of power, but enough to keep you and Joel entertained while I hunt our dinner for the night.” 

Oh shit. What? Alone with Joel, in the cabin by a fire… that can’t be good. 

“Oh Tommy,  are you sure?” You ask nonchalantly, acting like dinner wasn’t a big deal when you’re actually starving. “I don’t want you to go through the trouble.” 

“Nah, of course I’m sure.” He stands, waving it off. “Besides, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” 

Nodding to him, you take a seat on the sofa and kick off your shoes to get comfy as he calls out to Joel, letting him know that he’s going out to get dinner. “Alright. Do you need my help?” Joel asks, and you sit there silently praying to a God above that Tommy says yes. You can’t trust yourself around Joel, he’s too damn handsome and all you can think about is climbing on his lap, which is exactly what he wants, while you want to torment him. 

“No, I’ll be alright.” Dammit. Tommy turns to leave, saying that he will be back soon as he exits the cabin and jogs across the field. Now, you’re all alone with Joel. Pulling the throw from the back of the sofa over your legs, as if that could even hide how you feel right now, you sink into your position and watch an episode of Friends on the TV. You could see a boxset on one of the shelves and it made you smile to think that Joel or Tommy likes the show. 

Light footsteps creak their way towards you as Joel joins you in the lounge, taking a seat on the sofa you’re on. “You like Friends?” He asks, raising his brows. “Tommy likes this show.” 

“Yeah, it’s good.” You reply, already feeling the burn in your cheeks as your eyes lower to look at what Joel was wearing. Pyjamas - he’s wearing pyjamas, but not just any old kind, the loose fitting plaid pants with a sexy sweater kind of pyjamas. He looked so good in them, good looking and comfy, inviting you to cosy on up next to him. Thankfully, his gaze was fixed on the TV so he didn’t pay attention to the way your eyes kept flicking over to him, or at least you hoped he wasn’t paying attention. 

Eyes darting to him when he moves, your heartbeat rose with the way he opened his legs and leaned back into his position. Joel’s just getting comfy, like you did, but you couldn’t help stare at his natural bulge poking out from beneath his pants. Jesus his legs. Those goddamn legs that you want to sit on and feel tense beneath you as you kiss him on the lips.  Your arousal was palpable, electrifying the energy between you and him right now, you could feel it, however he acted oblivious. You know that he knows. Joel knows you're turned on right now, but he isn’t acting on it. 

You wonder if it’s out of respect or nervousness. He knows you want to be mad at him for the things he did, and the thought of him holding back from kissing you out of respect only makes you hornier. Just like the latter. Thinking that anxiety to make the first move holds him back makes you more horny too. Both possibilities were arousing, but one thing you know for certain is that your panties are damp right now and that bulge in his pants is growing. He’s turned on too. 

Joel shifts his position, trying to relieve the throbbing ache between his legs while keeping his eyes glued to the TV, but you had completely abandoned watching the TV and instead chose to watch him suffer. This was cruel for the man and you loved every second of it. Your heart was still beating fast as you let your thoughts loose, thinking about how much you’d love to climb on his lap right now, straddling his thigh to get yourself off while he plants kisses on your breasts. 

Even closing your eyes to picture how it would look, you smirked when hearing cough awkwardly. As much as this was torture for Joel, knowing that you want him but he can’t have you, it was torture for you as well. You do want him. So fucking badly. Not caring any more, you were blinded by lust and sighed with your thoughts. I forgive you, Joel. 

The man instantly turns to look at you, his wanton eyes glowing like fire, you watch as his chest rises and falls with each deep breath. Joel looked like he was fighting a war inside of him, holding himself back from launching across the space between you both and tearing the clothes right off your body, however he didn’t do any of that. Instead, Joel exhales shakily while patting his thigh. “C’mere babydoll.” 

Moving across the sofa slowly, you watch as his hands ball into fists, still holding himself back from doing what he really wants to do. You throw a leg over him, sinking down onto his lap and feeling his bulge press into your clothed core. Firm and growing bigger by the second, the sensation it brought was a good feeling, but not nearly enough. You wanted more. 

“I’ve thought about this for too damn long, girl.” Joel sighs, gaze lowering to take in your beauty. Seeing and feeling you sitting on him like this is driving him up the wall. It gives him all but a taste of what you feel like in his proximity where your heat is directly over his crotch, however it isn’t enough for him either. “Take your pants off.” 

The order in his tone sends a shiver up your body, igniting a fire of lust to blaze across your skin. Popping the button on your jeans open, then pulling down the zip, you move back to stand between his legs and take your sweet time shimmying your pants off. A daring smile appears on your lips as you watch Joel adjust himself with each inch of skin you reveal. His eyes, still glowing red, expand with hunger at the sight of your panties. A simple figure hugging white high leg panties with a sizable damp spot at the crotch. 

“Hmm.” Joel closes his eyes with a deeply contented hum, inhaling your sweet aromas as if his nose was buried in your cunt. The sound of you stepping out of your pants and kicking them across the floor opens his eyes again, but when he sees you reaching for the waistband of your underwear, he shakes his head slowly. A silent demand for you to keep them on, however you smirk and hook your thumbs under the fabric, teasing him. 

Pulling it down enough to reveal your mound, you could visibly see how much he wants you as his jaw clenches and just as his mouth falls open with anticipation of what your pussy looks like, you quickly turn around and giggle. Your giggles were abruptly replaced with a gasp as two strong hands land on your hips, yanking you back into his lap. Joel now had you in his arms, his cheek pressed against yours as he looked down at your body, letting his fingers roam free and the first place he went for is the waistline of your panties. 

The man pulls them up with a finger, smiling at the sight of your cunt from this angle. Your desire glistens, leaving a beautiful mess everywhere. Letting go of underwear, they snap back against your skin, eliciting another gasp to spill from your lips and just as you tilt your face to protest, Joel places his lips on yours, replacing your complaints with a moan. He slips a tongue inside your mouth, swirling it around to provide distraction as he rests his palm on your lower stomach, fingers slipping under the fabric of your underwear.   

Your breathing becomes heavier with need, a need to feel his fingers where you most want them, but Joel had plans of his own to tease you. Payback for teasing him, you suppose. Grabbing your legs and lifting them over his, so that you were spread perfectly for him, he then brought your hand down to your underwear and broke off the kiss to deliver his next order. “Play with yourself, darlin’.” 

“Huh?” You act shy and oblivious, but Joel can see right through your performance and smacks your inner thigh before palming the sting. “You heard me.” He softly whispers against the shell of your ear, slipping fingers inside the crotch of your panties but making a clear point to avoid the area you really want him to touch. “Play with your pussy Y/N. I’ll give you what you want soon enough.” 

Clenching around nothing, you could feel your slick drooling out of your hole, desperate to feel his fingers or his cock stretching you open. You nod, closing your eyes with a sigh as he peppers kisses on your neck then you do as he commands by slipping your hand inside your underwear, fingers instantly landing on your little swollen nub. A surge ripples through your body with a heat blossoming in your chest from the contact. Tension begins to build in your abdomen as you rotate the pad of your finger around your clit, but you stop when Joel moves his position from beneath. 

“Keep going.” He grunts, hastily working his pants open to free himself. “I didn’t say stop darlin’. Keep going.” 

Moaning, you continue rubbing your clit and eagerly await as he pulls his pants and boxers past his ass. His cock springs free, slapping the hand inside your panties. “There, that’s better ain’t it.” Joel coos, smirking at your way your eyes are transfixed on his length. “Now you can see what I’m going to fuck you with.” 

Using your free hand, you reach down between your legs and Joel sighs against your neck, thinking you're going to take him in hand, but you don't. Instead, you pull your panties to the side and look at him with pleading eyes. “Please - I want you now baby, I can’t wait.” 

“Fuck.” He breathes, eyes returning to their normal colour as he nods. “Ok darlin’.” 

Your pleas broke Joel’s commanding façade, bringing out the human of him. Kissing you on the lips as he notches the head of his cock at your entrance, your face contorts from the breach then you both moan in unison as he pushes inside, burying himself to the hilt. “Goddamn! You’re fucking tight baby.” Joel groans, tossing his head back to relish in the feel of your velvety walls squeezing him. You were still flicking your fingers across your clit and your orgasm nears. 

“I’m c-close.” Whimpering, you continue to pulse around him, full to the brim with his cock. Joel is big. Girthy with an above average length, he was buried so deep you could feel his balls. “Please move.” You beg, breathing out a moan. “I’m gonna cum, Joel please move.”

Placing his hands under your legs for leverage, the man lifts you up off his cock, leaving the tip inside before sinking you back down again. You bend your knees with a mewl, holding onto the arm of the chair as Joel continues to lift you up and down like you weighed nothing to him. You do weigh nothing to him. He held onto the back of your thighs with a bruising grip, listening to your moans grow louder each time he sank you down onto his dick. 

“Fuck! F-fuuck! Joel, I’m comi-” You stutter, unable to spill the words from your mouth as the tension in your stomach breaks and your climax takes over. Casting a blanket of white static over your vision, your cunt squeezes around him with a vice-like grip, feeling every vein and ridge. Joel grinds into you carefully, easing you through your high. “That’s it, let it all out darlin’. I got you.” 

Lowering your legs and placing your feet to the floor between his legs, your breathing begins to even out as you tilt your face towards Joel and capture his lips in a kiss. A hunger for more quickly rises, a need to make him cum is what you’re craving. To hear him fall apart. Still kissing Joel, you hold onto the sofa and brace your feet on the floor before lifting your hips up then sit back down. “Nngh!” He grunts with a shuddering inhale as you repeat your actions, finding the right pace. 

“My pussy feels good, don’t it?” You whisper, smirking against his lips. “So warm and tight.” 

Slamming your hips down onto his lap, thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt, Joel could barely form a sentence to reply. His mouth falls open, hands grasping at your body to keep himself together as you continue to fuck him. A burn forms in your thighs accompanied with a cramp in your stomach, the position was giving you a workout and your skin stuck to his, yet you didn’t stop, not until he gave you what you wanted. 

“Cum for me, Joel.” You mewl what you want. Resting your head back to his shoulder, he brings a hand up to your throat and holds it there gently while kissing your neck. Body jerking with the pad of his finger landing on your clit, he rubs nameless shapes while grunting into your ear. “You first babydoll.” 

Your movements faltered from the pleasure he was inflicting. You’re still so sensitive from your last climax, it was painfully good, and you can feel yourself unravelling again. Sinking down and burying him deep inside of you, your walls pulse around him as you moan his name. Joel takes over for you, rocking your hips back and forth to grind himself through your high. You were squeezing him too hard, damn near pulling the orgasm out of him. 

“Shit! Baby, I’m coming.” Joel warns, lifting you off his cock a second before hot ropes of his cum shot out, coating your folds. Still coming, he glides the tip through your slit, painting a mess all over your pussy. His warmth felt amazing, only you wished you could feel it paint your insides. 

Savouring the post coital bliss for a few moments, reality begins to kick in and you voice your worries to Joel of being caught. “We need to move. Your brother might show up any moment now.” 

Joel wraps his arms around your stomach, chuckling into your neck as he shakes his head. “He ain’t coming back darlin’”

Before you could even ask, Joel stands with you, pulling your shirt and bra off along with his shirt, dropping all them to the floor. Placing his thumb and forefinger to your chin, he tilts your face to meet his lips in a kiss, walking you towards his bedroom. Once your legs meet the edge of the bed, he lowers a hand to line himself up at your entrance and thrusts inside, knocking the breath out of your lungs and stealing your ability to speak. It’s just me and you staying here. He says telepathically, lowering you to lay down on your stomach before pounding into you from behind. 

I have you all to myself for the night, darlin’. 

Two Days Later

Running through the forest with a beating heart ready to jump out of your chest, you run like your life depends on it. You should be in Jackson right now, should be far away from Joel Miller on the night of a full moon just like he warned you, but you couldn’t help your curiosity to know what he goes through. 

You only wanted to help, only help him through this night of pain and make it easier for him, but instead, you let the beast inside of him catch your scent and he broke free from the chains. The werewolf on a full moon isn’t the werewolf you’ve seen in Joel before. It’s different… he’s different. You should have stayed home and listened to Joel’s warnings because now, a monster hunts you with an insatiable hunger, impossible to be satisfied until it gets what it wants. 

You - the monster in Joel wants you. 

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Tagging

Werewolf Joel Miller: @kirsteng42 @marydjarin @extraneous-trip @dins-cyare @supernaturalgirl20 @supernaturalgirl @joelsflannel @luvmeijii @hb8301 @squidwell @hb8301 @superawesomegeek @trickstersp8 @scorpio-marionette @formulafun

#Yes if anyone is asking doing the beta on this chapter fucking sucks! Lmao #if you see any mistake just know I’m sorry 😅 #Joel Miller #joelmiller #Werewolf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #werewolf!joel miller x fem reader #werewolf!joel miller x y/n #werewolf!joel miller x you #werewolf fiction #monster fic #monster joel #monster!au #monster fucking #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joelmillerfluff #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pearlyfics #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #enjoyreaders

[claymorexpunisher]

Poppin The Question- Ch.5/10 (Werewolf!Shield) (18+ Fic) (Repost)

Summary: Got nothin' to say about this chapter, lmao. Enjoy and leave comments if you did (or didn't). I think this was quite literally my very first WWE fic. Wow!

Tags: 18+, M/M, smut, fluff, angst, angst with a happy ending, hair-pulling, hair kink, daddy kink, name-calling.

Word Count: 17,916

A few months later, the boys and the rest of the RAW roster were gearing up for WrestleMania.

And Roman, being the winner of that year's Royal Rumble, was both annoyed and excited that he once again was going up against Vince's first-born golden child, Brock Lesnar.

The fans were also pretty excited at the prospect of having a new and fighting champion as well.

It had been 5 months to be exact.

And it had been just as long since that night in the woods.

Roman, Seth and Jon never talked about that night.

The boys themselves were on good terms, however.

They were talking, joking and just being best friends again.

But no matter how much he tried, Roman just couldn't shake the guilt that he's felt all this time.

He knew Jon was right.

He knew he had every right to move on with his life, and to have fun again.

After all, it was Alexis who ended it.

But...there was something else he wasn't telling the boys.

While Roman was an alpha he had a bit of a submissive streak.

Even the fans picked up on it sometimes while he was doing something as innocent as sparring against someone, or even interacting with his boys.

And while Alexis started off being supportive and tried to indulge him whenever she could, it ended up taking a huge toll on their marriage.

She never belittled him for it, though.

She never made him feel less than because he was an alpha who just so happened to enjoy being cuddled, fucked and told he was good after a hard day's work.

Or that he did his best, and that that was enough.

But she just wasn't satisfied and Roman didn't fault her for ending things.

Alexis knew he swung both ways.

And she knew that he found both Seth and Jon attractive, and she was okay with that.

She trusted him and she knew he wouldn't fool around with anyone outside of their marriage, much less with people so close to them both.

Some people would view their past relationship as a little more than unconventional, but Roman appreciated how open and accepting she was when it came to who he was, at least in that regard.

And he appreciated being able to talk to her about that kinda thing.

But he just couldn't stop thinking about the whole encounter.

And after tonight, unbeknownst to Roman, he was going to be feeling way worse and confused.

Roman was deep in his thoughts when Jon found him and slung his arm over his shoulder.

''How's it goin', champ?'' Jon drawled with a smirk.

Roman couldn't help but chuckle in amusement as he locked eyes with Jon.

''Hol' up now. I'm not champ just yet, babe.'' Roman laughed, only to get a playful eye roll in response.

''Don't roll your eyes at me, Mox.'' Roman growled equally as playful.

Both men started aggressively rolling on the ground, their bared canines snapping until Seth, overhearing the conversation, found them and cut in with a laugh.

''Alright, enough you two. You got this in the bag, Big Guy.'' Seth remarked as he joined the duo and sat on the bench that the pair once occupied.

Roman ducked his head a little at the compliment as he and Jon dusted themselves off and got up off the floor, and he shot both men a grateful grin.

''We'll see.'' He conceded.

Jon gave Roman a gentle and affectionate head butt and chuckled, ridiculously endeared.

''So modest.'' Ruffling Romans wet hair, Jon joined Seth on the bench.

''I just wish I didn't have to do this shit all over again with Brock, man...'' Roman flashed them an irritated look as he took a generous swig from his near frozen water bottle.

Both Jon and Seth understood where Roman was coming from.

They couldn't count how many times they were shoved into the same boring feuds with the same people every week without any real payoff.

But they felt especially bad for Roman because Brock was nowhere near a deserving opponent.

''I know, bro.'' Seth said, his tone full of sympathy.

Leaning against Seth, Jon eyed Roman's tense back.

''Tonight's your lucky night, Uce. I can feel it.''

Roman dumped his now empty water bottle in the trash bin and ran his fingers through his hair.

''Let's just hope it's a decent match at least.'' Roman sighed, leaving Jon and Seth alone with their thoughts as Roman got called for his match.

----- The match that night left Roman both exhausted-emotionally and physically, but also absolutely elated.

Finally, he was Universal Champion.

Finally, they no longer had to deal with Brock...well, that was until the powers that be decided otherwise.

Still, all Roman wanted to do was go to the hotel and sleep the night off.

But Jon and Seth had other plans.

''Congrats, Big Dog.'' Seth smiled at the exhausted man.

''Thank you, thank you.'' Roman smiled back tiredly, adjusting the title up over his shoulder.

Roman laughed a little painfully as he felt Jon plaster himself onto Roman's aching back.

''We goin' out to celebrate?'' Jon bounced excitedly against Roman's back making him laugh again.

But his brow furrowed when he felt more than heard Roman's tired sigh.

''We are gonna celebrate..aren't we?'' Jon raised a ginger brow as Roman shrugged, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the mere thought of going anywhere except to his hotel room for the night.

''...Fine. You're the champ, so you decide how we celebrate.'' Jon conceded.

Roman sighed once again, this time in fond exasperation.

''I honestly just wanna sleep, man... Maybe we can do something tomorrow night after RAW...?'' Roman offered, but Jon was having none of it.

''Cmon, man- look, tell ya what. Why don't we crash together- like old times! Huh? Crack open a beer or two...or three?'' Jon laughed, the two men joining in.

Slinging his arm around Roman, Jon ruffled his dark hair, smiling encouragingly.

Roman reluctantly nodded, smiling fondly at the small yip released by the ginger.

----- Not even 2 hours later Roman, Seth and Jon piled up in bed to sleep after knocking back a couple beers.

Well, all except Roman.

With all his exhaustion, Roman couldn't for the life of him get some sleep.

Getting up groggily to stretch out his limbs, Roman ran his fingers through his thick black hair, and after he sluggishly walked toward the bathroom to relieve his full bladder, he strode over to the door to leave their shared room.

Where he was going, Roman didn't know.

But he just needed to get out of that room and gather his thoughts.

But his actions were interrupted by a sleepy voice coming from the bed behind him.

''Going somewhere, Ro?'' Jon asked gruffly.

His eyes peered curiously up at Roman from where he rested against Seth's stomach.

''Yeah. Going for a run maybe, I dunno.'' Roman shrugged, still facing the door.

''Thought you were exhausted.''

Roman groaned irritably as he caught Jon’s suspicious and borderline icy tone, and he rolled his eyes before he turned around to face the ginger.

''I'll be back, alright? Relax.'' He replied, raising his voice an octave, causing Seth's body to give a small jolt even in his deep beer-induced slumber.

Roman bristled with jealousy as he watched Jon run his fingers through Seth's curls soothingly.

He wasn't jealous of Seth, really...

He wasn't.

And the last thing he wanted was for them to go back to square one but, he just didn't know how to voice his thoughts and fears to either of his friends.

He was their pack leader.

The strong one.

The one they turned to when they needed to.

The one who kept them in check, kept them in line.

He knew they trusted him with their lives and vice versa, but he just couldn't trust them this time.

Not with this.

Not when his brain was constantly muddled with these conflicting feelings since that night in the woods- hell, ever since he could remember.

''What the hell's your problem, man?'' Jon whispered harshly, not wanting to disturb Seth again.

''Aren't I supposed to be the bratty one of this group? What's your deal?'' Jon finally stood up and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Roman scoffed dryly, shrugging his shoulders.

''That's just it, isn't it?'' He remarked.

Roman's hands played with the drawstring of his sweatpants simply for something to do.

As he looked down at his pants, he didn't see Jon’s brow furrow in confusion.

''What are you talkin about, Ro?'' Jon exclaimed.

His frustrations were beginning to escalate.

''Just forget it, Jon.'' Roman sighed, shaking his head and not wanting to get into this.

He got the shock of his life when he was met with Jon’s furious blue eyes and his hand firmly gripped Roman's chin.

Roman shrugged the hand off roughly, snarling softly under his breath.

''No. I will not forget it, Roman.'' Jon growled.

''Jon, I'm warning y-'' Roman started, only for Jon to interrupt.

''Oh, we're startin' that ''my dick is bigger than yours'' alpha bullshit again, are we?''

Seth woke up alarmed to see Roman and Jon scuffling on the ground for the second time that day, only this time the growls and snarls he heard coming from them were anything but playful.

He stood up and immediately pulled both men apart.

''Are we really doing this again?'' Seth looked between Roman and Jon who were glaring daggers at one another.

This wasn't exactly how he planned to spend the evening after having a few drinks with his boys and some much-needed RnR.

He shoved Jon back when he lunged for Roman again, clearly fired up for whatever reason unknown to Seth.

''Okay. Both of you, calm down! Jeez...what happened now?'' Seth continued to glance between them, waiting for an explanation, when Jon finally exploded.

''He's doin it again, man!'' Jon pointed at Roman in an accusatory tone to which Roman responded with a glare of his own.

''Seriously, dude? You are such a child, dawg!'' Roman sneered.

Then he moved toward the door again and rested his forehead against it when he was stopped once again, this time by Seth's hand on his shoulder.

His eyes flashed angrily when Jon spat his next words, more so speaking at Roman than to him.

''I'm a fuckin child for wantin to know if you're okay? For wantin to fuckin help you!?'' Jon bellowed, shrugging off Seth's calming hand as it came to rest on the back of his neck in the placating way the three of them always did when either one was stressed or fired up.

'''Hey.'' Seth said.

''Lower your voices, guys. We don't want security coming.''

''Fuck that!'' Jon roared, being shushed loudly by Seth as a result.

''No! I'm sick o' his shit! We're your best friends! Your pack! It's our job to know if somethin's wrong, you prick!'' Jon spat again.

However, Roman didn't take the bait.

Instead, he gave Seth a dry look.

''I honestly don't know how I dealt with his ass when we got split up.''

Seth blinked at that.

He was more than a little shocked by Roman's comment and he felt Jon flinch slightly due to their close proximity.

Seth watched as Jon then just quietly moved toward the bed, hooking one ankle over the other once he laid down.

Jon didn't look at either of them.

Seth couldn't even begin to understand what was going on with Roman.

He never spoke this way to anyone, ever- much less to Jon- unless they genuinely deserved it.

''Dude, what is up with you-'' Seth clamped his mouth shut when Roman flashed his now bright yellow and angry eyes at him, the wild look in them started to make Seth nervous.

They stayed that way until Roman caught sight of the wounded look on Jon’s face that the ginger quickly tried to hide.

''Babe...I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean that...'' Roman slid into the spot on the bed next to Jon and he ran one of his large hands smoothly over the other man's buzzed cut head, biting back a sigh of disappointment when he was met with no response.

He tried to hold Jon’s face only to be shoved away.

''Nah. Don't worry bout it, Ro..'' Jon shrugged, feigning a nonchalant attitude.

''Just go. You're right, you don't owe me nothin'.'' Jon shrugged again.

''It's cool.''

''.....Can I show you guys something?'' Roman asked shyly.

His palms began to sweat.

He couldn't believe he was about to do this, but he knew he had to.

He wasn't gonna lose them again out of fear.

Or out of shame.

He was going to be honest with them like they deserved, no matter the outcome.

He had to trust in them.

He did trust them.

Roman nervously reached for his phone that he had placed on the bedside table.

''We've seen it already, Ro. 'Member?'' Jon quipped like a smart ass, unable to help himself.

''Don't be a dick, Mox.'' Roman replied.

Jon was about to make another smart-assed comment, until he noticed the slight tremble in Roman's hands.

''Okay, I'm sorry.'' He made his point by affectionately squeezing the back of Roman's neck.

He and Seth watched as Roman fiddled with his phone, until he pulled up a video.

And on that video, a well-built man- about Roman's size, give or take- laid at another equally well-built man's feet.

Roman didn't dare look either Seth nor Jon in the eye.

And he didn't know if their silence was something he was grateful for or not.

''Rome...'' Seth started to speak but he cut himself off when the man on the video motioned for the black-haired man on the ground to unbuckle his top's jeans.

Once the man's cock was exposed, the black-haired man took the shaft into his hand, and he gave the head a few small kitten-like licks and he stroked it slowly as his top showered him with praise.

Before the video could go on, Roman shut it off and tossed his phone onto the bed as if it were a ticking time bomb. '

'This was a mistake...'' Roman said in a quivering voice.

He strode over to the door, ready to bolt again.

''C'mon, man. Stop running.'' Jon implored, his tone void of the malice and anger from earlier.

All that was left was frustration and sadness.

Roman held the knob in his hand so tight that Jon had to pry his fingers off of it.

He sighed in defeat, and followed Jon to the bed with Seth sitting to his left.

''Get on your knees, Ro.'' Jon was the one to fill the silence as it began to consume the room.

He gave Roman an expectant look and it was returned with a blank expression from the Samoan.

Jon rolled his eyes at Roman's hesitance.

''Cmon, Ro. I need my cock sucked and you need to be told you're a good boy.'' Jon replied casually, not missing the sharp intake of breath from Roman.

''I-I don't think so, man...'' Roman stuttered.

Jon leaned forward with his elbows resting against his knees.

''So, what? You're just gonna keep it all bottled up inside and keep bein' a dick to us instead?''

''Oh, because you're such an expert at sharing your feelings,'' Roman snapped.

But Jon was unbothered because he knew Roman was just lashing out at him out of pure fear and nervousness.

Instead, Jon rubbed a hand down his own face, and he tried to calm Roman down.

''You'd do this for me, right?''

''Thanks, but I don't need the charity.'' Roman scoffed as he rolled his neck slowly when Jon let out a loud groan.

'Dude, it's not charity!'' Jon was going to go on but instead, he pulled Roman into a heated kiss, taking advantage of Roman's surprised gasp to expertly lick into the man's mouth.

Then he pulled away, panting hard and his mouth glistening.

''Look, I think we've all established that we're attracted to each other. Right? Cool. So, what's the problem? Let us do this for you, man!'' Jon nudged him encouragingly, but Roman still didn't look convinced.

Rather than press him, Jon beckoned Seth in front of him.

''...Okay then. Get on your knees, Seth.'' Jon commanded and he smiled when Seth got on his knees in front of him without objections, to Roman's utter shock.

''Good boy.''

And with that, Jon stood up to unbuckle his jeans, batting Seth's impatient hands away with a mild scowl.

''Did I say you could touch?'' He asked firmly, even though Seth's eagerness made his cock stir in his jeans, and Roman wasn't too far behind.

The latter of the three grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and he laid it across his lap over his raging erection as he watched his two best friends.

''Did I say you could touch?'' Jon asked again, punctuating his words with a firm tug to Seth's curls until Seth responded.

''I-I'm sorry, Sir...'' Seth whimpered, sighing when Jon loosened his grip, and he ran his blunt fingernails over Seth's scalp in silent praise.

Seth watched patiently as Jon continued to remove his own clothes.

Once that was done, Jon motioned to Seth's clothes, and he gave him a single command.

''Off. Now.''

''Yes, Si-'' Seth went to respond before being cut off by Roman's soft rumbling voice.

''Can I do it?'' Roman asked as he looked Seth straight in the eye hungrily, making the raven-haired man smirk.

''What?'' Jon raised a brow as he watched Roman's aroused yet still tentative features carefully.

He laid on his side and cupped Roman's chin to make Roman look at him.

''You wanna undress 'im?''

Roman nodded jerkily and he cleared his throat to respond properly.

''Yes, Sir.”

Roman sighed once those two words came out of his mouth.

The words felt so right as he said them.

He practically purred in delight when this time his scalp was scratched lightly by Jon, who nodded his approval.

''Okay. Go 'head.''

Jon sat back and watched Roman undress Seth, while giving his own cock a few firm tugs.

Eyeing Roman intently, he knew the man was nervous.

Almost like he was measuring his movements, expecting Jon to correct him at any second.

In an attempt to soothe Roman's nerves, Jon sat up and kissed a patch of skin on Roman's shoulder that was peeking from his tank top.

''It's okay, Ro. Seth knows what I expect of him. You don't. Let's just relax and have some fun, alright? It's just us.''

Kissing that spot on Roman's shoulder again, he stayed sitting at the edge of the bed, and he flashed Seth a dimply and devilish smirk when they both could tell that Roman was starting to relax.

Undressing Seth in record time, Roman sank back down to his knees and took Seth's cock into his large hand and smiled up at him with a wicked glint in his eye before he gave the head a long swipe of his tongue.

''Fuck...'' Seth gasped, smirking down at Roman through hazy eyes.

Roman returned the smile and he began to breathe through his nose to Seth further down his throat, making him and Jon groan.

Jon’s hand began to pump his cock faster, growing impossibly harder as Roman pulled his mouth away from Seth's cock to ask, ''You missed my mouth on you, Seth?'' Roman asked with a seductive smirk.

Roman's full lips glistened sinfully with spit and precum as he looked into Seth's chocolate brown eyes that began to shine with pleasure.

All Seth could do was release a deep, guttural groan and he nodded enthusiastically as Roman's mouth sank down onto him once again.

Resting his head against the sheets, Seth turned his head, and he aimed that same lustful smirk at Jon who watched the scene intently.

''Seems like we're not the only ones enjoying ourselves.'' Seth laughed.

''You like watching us, Sir?'' he purred.

'You like watching him suck me off- fuck...! He's so good at that...'' Seth grunted through clenched teeth.

Seth threw his head back against the sheets and he released Roman's hair from the bun that the man pretty much always sported after shows or on his downtime, and he carded his fingers through the strands then fisted it into his hand as Roman brought him closer and closer to the edge.

''I know we've done this before but...shit,'' Seth chuckled breathlessly.

''I didn't know you were this good of a cock slut, Ro.'' He praised and let his eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

Roman's mouth moved down to Seth's balls to give them some attention, and at Seth's words, one of his hands palmed himself over his sweats and he damn near mewled with his mouth still pleasuring Seth.

At the sound, Seth's eyes reopened, and he looked into Roman's glassy brown eyes that now looked more like a stunning bronze as the wolf in him struggled to contain itself.

''Oh really?” Seth grinned wickedly.

''You like that, Ro?'' Seth cooed seductively.

''You need this, uh? You need to have your mouth filled with a big hard cock. Hm?'' He continued filthily.

Roman couldn't believe his luck.

If he weren't so focused on bringing pleasure to Seth, he'd pinch himself right now.

And he'd beat himself up for being so stupid.

Of course, Jon and Seth understood him and tried their hardest to indulge his needs.

Of course.

Roman replied with a sharp nod as he swirled his velvety tongue along the head of Seth's cock.

''Yeah. Thought so.'' Seth quipped.

Both men were so engrossed in their activities, that they missed the moment Jon stood up to grab the small bottle of lube he always kept in his carry-on bag.

Roman struggled to not let out a whimper of disappointment when he felt Jon shake him by the shoulder slightly.

''Oh, you don't wanna get fucked? Okay, my mistake.'' Jon lifted his hands, trying to keep a straight face as he made to put the bottle back in its original place.

Seth and Jon burst into laughter as Roman hurriedly stood up to grab Jon to try and stop him.

''No.'' Roman stuttered.

''No?'' Jon raised a brow.

''I mean- fuck me.'' Roman tried again as his cheeks burned in embarrassment or arousal-both, maybe.

After the three of them got themselves fully undressed, Seth and Jon settled Roman onto the bed.

Seth was in charge of keeping Roman as relaxed as possible while Jon stretched him open gently.

Before too long the Samoan's hips tried their damnest to match the delicious rhythm of Jon’s fingers.

His moans escalated when he felt Seth's large hand firmly wrap itself around his throat as the man whispered filth into his ear.

''You want it?'' Seth whispered huskily.

His lips took their time to nibble and suck on the hot skin of Roman's neck before moving back up to his ear to whisper more filth.

''I might get in there after Mox.'' Seth chuckled huskily, playfully biting Roman's scruffy chin.

Eventually, Jon slowly withdrew his fingers, deeming Roman ready for him.

As he slowly entered Roman, Jon let him gradually adjust to his girth.

After a little while, he started to move his hips a little faster, gripping Roman's hips tightly for leverage.

''How's that?'' Jon breathed.

All Roman could do was moan in response and roll his hips even more enthusiastically against Jon’s.

He clawed at Jon’s forearms as the sensations of Jon thrusting into him and Seth whispering and mouthing against him overwhelmed him.

His body felt like it was on fire in the most delicious way possible.

''Don't stop...! Please...'' Roman whimpered.

Their golden eyes locked as their bodies moved in unison.

Roman's eyes lost focus on Jon’s as he felt the head of Jon’s cock brush up against that bundle of nerves.

''Ohh, that's the spot, is it? S' that feel good? Look at you taking me like a good little cockwhore.'' Jon’s words came out slurred as his thrusts continued.

''I think you can do better than that, Sir.'' Roman smirked.

''Harder.'' Roman commanded.

''Was that a challenge, Ro?'' Jon lifted a brow as he asked.

He felt his balls tighten as Roman continued to smirk at him while he looked at him through his lashes.

''You can take that however you want.'' Roman shrugged.

''...Pin him down.''

Roman's breath was taken away as Seth pinned his wrists above his head against the bed and Jon started jackhammering into him.

At first Roman's mouth remained open in a silent moan until his body began to tremble and small whimpers left his lips.

''Got nothin to say now, huh?'' Jon growled, grabbing onto Roman's raven-colored locks roughly.

Jon blinked back the beads of sweat that started to pool along his face.

Then he attached his lips to Roman's for a couple of heated seconds until Roman pulled away and it was like a dam had been opened.

''Please.'' Roman whimpered under his breath repeatedly.

He bit back a wince only to let out a guttural moan when he felt a sharp yet delicious tug against his nipple, and he keened loudly as Seth released the tender bud from between his teeth and he soothed it with his tongue.

''Think he wants you to come inside him, Mox.'' Seth said, as he started to lazily stroke Roman's cock between his and Jon’s bodies.

''Yes...'' Roman hissed.

''Fuckin give it to me. I want it, please. Need it so bad, Sir. Wanna come inside me, sir? Huh?'' Roman babbled, only to get his breath taken away again by Jon’s hands firmly against his throat.

He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes at the overload of sensations coursing through his body as he was being choked and used.

His eyes rolled back into his skull just as Jon reached his peak, releasing a long growl of pleasure along with a sharp bite to Roman's neck that had both Roman and Seth's cocks twitching in arousal.

Jon shivered pleasantly as the mild copper taste of Roman's blood flooded his tastebuds while Roman's entire body shook as Jon’s warm release gushed inside him, and he started to struggle against Seth's strong grip.

Once Seth released his wrists, Roman held onto Jon and Seth, and he shared a heated kiss with Seth.

Roman's own release came soon enough when Seth wrapped his mouth around him, bobbing his head enthusiastically until Roman was left shivering with aftershocks, tears caused by overstimulation streaming down his cheeks.

Roman felt warm all over when soft kisses and caresses were peppered everywhere the men could reach and before Roman knew it, he was sobbing uncontrollably, hiding his face into the crook of his elbow as his body shook with silent sobs instead of the pleasure from a few minutes earlier.

''I'm s-sorry...'' Roman cleared the tears away from his throat and wiped his eyes, not meeting Jon’s nor Seth's concerned eyes.

''You alright?'' Jon asked as he lied next to Roman on the bed once he had cleaned them both up.

His fingers carded soothingly through the Samoan's dark hair in an effort to soothe him while Seth continued to pepper soft and loving kisses along Roman's neck, making the man bare his neck to give Seth better access.

''Yes...''Roman sighed pleasantly as he slowly came back down from his high.

''Thank you, guys. And I'm sorry for actin like such an asshole to y'all...I promise I won't hide shit anymore. Okay?''

''We're gonna hold you to that.'' Jon winked.

''... Are we gonna leave this guy's blue balls hangin'?'' Roman asked with a teasing smirk.

''Noo.'' Seth whined through soft laughter.

Roman licked his lips, eyeing Seth seductively before his eyes shone golden again, and he nipped at Seth's nipple playfully, laughing as the man released a gasp of surprise mixed with pleasure.

''You can't just do that, babe.'' Seth whined again in protest.

-----

The next morning, the boys woke up in an extra good mood.

But instead of getting in their usually early-morning workout at the gym, they rolled around in the sheets and spent the day together, getting in their workout without having to leave their room.

(Next Chapter.)

(Prev. Chapter)

#roman reigns #seth rollins #dean ambrose #jon moxley #wwe fic #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wwe smut #the shield #the shield smut #wwe fan fiction

[treesap-blogs]

Happy Saturday, everyone! Here’s a review of “The Witchery” by S. Isabelle!

Hello, Tumblrians! I just realized I never did a review of this book on my actual account, only tying it to the confines of my Instagram Close Friends List! So I’ll be getting this out to the best of my ability, in a manner still respecting the weekly schedule because so far that’s been working out well! Maybe I’ll integrate a weekly schedule for posting art, too, because truthfully I’d love to scream about my blorbos and maybe some OCs(..no guarantee about that second thing though I find it a struggle to write ones not for venting) into the areas of Tumblr where people would be interested in hearing about it!

That got unrelated pretty fast! Sorry! What I’d like to add on before the actual review itself kicks off though is that I wanted to add some more spooky stuff to my reading queue, and when I saw this book on a display inside a library I read the summary and just decided to go for it! Magic witch schools? Horror elements? Shit, I’m in, just off of that alone. I didn’t have much knowledge prior to that lmao.

This book was a pretty interesting read overall! The first 50 or so pages were kind of rough, though, because I figured out very quickly just how many POVs we were dealing with here. The thing was though, because they were told in third-person omniscient, they didn’t have very different voices; I found the change in POV was mainly for convenience of a location, not for that specific person’s thoughts/feelings. (Basically: plot/premise carried, characters were moreso a vessel for it.) That’s not to say that there was a complete absence of character voices, though, because I had read enough of them to be sufficiently annoyed at Logan every time it was one of her chapters! She had the least interesting of the backgrounds for the characters, and she frequently whined about not being special or not wanting to be called a “baby witch”. Seriously, take a shot every time you read “baby witch” in her chapters specifically and you’d die of alcohol poisoning. I hated how she fell in love with Theodore immediately and literally betrayed the group’s plan just for him (which..fine I get there’s a reason for that later on that’s spoiler-y, still annoying though), and how she had such a “so pick me!! choose me!! love me!!” vibe to her😐. (Theodore and Logan also just didn’t work as a romance. I couldn’t see the chemistry, it was just so annoying and felt like a pointless romance subplot added just for an internal conflict.) I saw Ms Woc Reader on Goodreads and her blog comment that the book would’ve worked better if Thalia and Iris were the only two POVs, since they were the most rounded-out and had the most to expand on, and I agree with that! They kicked off basically all of the plot elements, had the most interesting backstories, and then we wouldn’t have to deal with the other main issue of having all the POVs, which is that the white characters were centered too frequently for a book with a mainly black cast. Hopefully this is something fixed in the second book, as S. Isabelle will have many chances to grow from this being her debut book.

The pacing also felt a bit wonky, like there were too many events for just this book alone. I saw many reviewers talk about this being packed for a standalone, and although there’s a sequel that was announced to be out in September of this year, I wonder if it was just meant to be a standalone at first? It definitely explains why it was paced the way it was. And if a second book just for this specific plot wouldn’t work, maybe The Witchery should’ve been longer, but I could also see how that could be a lot to get a publisher to send out. My knowledge of the actual business is little, but the longer a book is, the more expensive the publishing price is, and there’s probably some business reasons to do with the final product’s results as well.

To S. Isabelle’s credit, though, this was something that worked in her favor for the climax, because it meant that chapters went by quick enough to have fast-paced action. That was something I did enjoy during my read! (And Logan did finally step up when she got her shit kicked in with about 50 pages left, not to say I like her but it was the only time she legitimately contributed to the group.)

The friend group also didn’t have as much of the dynamic their characters probably should with their closeness to each other, presumably due to the POV problem. 

I did like Vero and Jailah’s history! I’m a sucker for drama, their moderate toxicity was very interesting to read and I wish we actually got to see Vero in the ending rather than just have her be mentioned in passing. How does she process being helped after all of that time? Does she forgive Jailah? Will she understandably never be able to? She just appeared for the truth serum acquiring, was mentioned in passing and never appeared again. A lot of the parts of the plot were wrapped up suddenly, actually. 

Another thing I liked was the horror elements present! But although things got a little bloody and spookier towards the end, I do wish the story felt a little more twisted? It felt very tame by horror standards, despite the genre. But then again this is a YA, I don’t know how much someone can breach the boundaries until they have to rebrand their book. The witch school also felt generic, there weren't many identifying factors about it other than it being sort of creepy? That was basically all lmao.

Overall verdict!: Plot was interesting(albeit the twists could be easily predicted by a frequent YA reader), characters not as much but they could’ve had potential if the chapters weren’t structured how they were and this story was long enough to give the plot a chance to breathe. 

Book rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️/5 stars.

Paz, signing off!

(Book trigger/content warnings: Most are mentioned inside, but include frequent self-harm(typically involving pricking a thumb, although there’s one instance of slicing a hand with a knife, all instances are just for sacrificial and spell purposes), blood and gore, body horror and mentions of religious trauma.)

[ursafootprints]

2, 3, 4, 11 for ynyd :D

Thank you for playing!! 💖💖💖

2: What scene did you first put down? I write chronologically, so the first scene I wrote-wrote was, well, chapter one! BUT: before I ever committed to writing the fic, I got to the opening scene in chapter 9 in my outline, and I outlined... basically all of the dialogue and mood shifts in that scene in bulletpoint format (just the outline for that scene was 1.5k), so while it went through a LOT of changes once I actually got there in-story, I think it's fair to count that as the first scene I put down! The outlining up until that point was a much more bare-bones summary of the beats I wanted to hit, though I did have a fair bit of the dialogue for Peter and Tony's talk in the lab after Peter's birthday outlined as well.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration? This is likely the recency effect at play, but I was far too pleased with myself for the steel trap imagery that Tony kept using in ch8, so probably:

“He had to make it worth it. So that someday when Peter got sick of being glanced and grazed and gouged by those teeth that Tony had never quite managed to file down-- he could look back at the suits and the hours in the lab and the college fund, and at least think that it hadn't been a complete waste of time.”

Ch8 was where I really dug into Tony’s particular brand of self-loathing, so finding the right metaphor to get that across and then combining it with his sense of utter resignation and inevitably re: Peter leaving him behind someday was super satisfying!

4: What's your favorite line of dialogue? I got asked this multiple times so I'm gonna cheat and choose a different one for each time because it’s very hard to pick a favorite from 100k+ words, lmao. Feelingsy answer later, but comedically I really love this one from ch6:

Tony hummed an affirmative, and then hoped it was the right move as he said, dry, "If you wanted to redecorate you know you could have asked for help. I'm a pro at designing spaces for hitting rock bottom. Gimme an hour and I can fuck up your feng shui so royally Patty'll get an emergency alert on her phone."

I felt like I managed to hit Tony’s very particular blend of self-confidence and self-deprecation in how he presents himself, and it also just made me laugh.

11: What do you like best about this fic? Further thoughts later because I got this one twice, but: my favorite fics are always the ones that combine a romance A-plot with a like, genuinely plotty(/action-y/mystery/whatever) B-plot, and while the B-plot is in all honesty probably the weakest part of the fic (I’m gonna do my best by it though!), it’s been super exciting to me to make an attempt at it! I’ve only ever written straight-out romances before, so trying to blend the two plots together in a way that feels organic and where each genuinely supports/feeds the other, and attempting in general to write My Favorite Kind of Fic, has felt ambitious in a good way and I hope it all comes together in a way I can be satisfied with ///

#ask games #ynyd

[fantastic-nonsense]

those left behind… also i didn’t realize that other people had actual organized folders for their wips and not just a google doc lmao

I both have a chronic need to organize things in a way that enables me to find them again (it's the archivist in me) and mostly write in Microsoft Word...I think I have 3 fics total on Google Docs (and mostly only because I was sharing bits and pieces with a friend and got tired of screensharing asdfghjkl). So I keep my fics separate from all of my other various docs and separated into folders labelled by fandom for the sake of my sanity.

As for Those Left Behind...that happens to be "that one Young Justice fic I wrote when I was 16 and nearly finished when I was 18, but the last chapter isn't done yet and now I want to go back and re-write the whole thing."

Summary: "Five times the Team mourned Artemis and the one time they didn't have to."

Here's a long excerpt from the final chapter I published, which covered Artemis's faked death in "Depths":

His mind is detached, clinical in its observations. It’s like his emotions have just shut down, leaving this numb, empty feeling behind. Things are registering...but in a disconnected, impassive way that he knows instinctively is bad but can’t help but be relieved over (because he knows that if it were any different, he’d currently be throwing things in a blinding rage right now). Three things keep repeating in his mind (over and over and over). Artemis is dead. Kaldur killed her. And M’gann is crying.

Logically, he knows he couldn’t have done anything. He was on the other side of the bay when it happened. But logic doesn’t apply when one of your best friends is lying on the ground with blood on her uniform and you can’t hear her heartbeat. He remembers the growing feeling of horror within him as he watched Nightwing desperately perform CPR and he still couldn’t hear her heartbeat (no reassuring thump, thump, thump to keep his own heart from breaking). It was then that he shut down, mechanically helping Nightwing and M’gann move Artemis’s body while he dissociated himself. It was like watching his life through someone else’s eyes, or through a television screen (watching but not feeling Artemis’s cold cold so cold body cradled in his strong arms, M’gann’s warm hand half on Artemis’s arm, half on his, Nightwing slowly and solemnly leading the three of them-no, two and a body-to the zeta tube).

It’s not until much later that he realizes that he has blood on his hands (literally). It should be horrifying (he has his friend’s blood spread liberally over his hands, under his fingernails and on his shirt), but all he can think about is how Artemis was joking with him not even three hours ago about how often he ran through his shirts, and how he replied that she was perfectly welcome to make him a laser-proof, waterproof, and fireproof shirt if she wanted.

He never said blood-proof.

He’s standing against a wall with Artemis’s blood on his shirt and suddenly it’s all he can do not to throw up. And still in the background is M’gann crying, crying, crying, and now he needs the comfort and the innocence and god, he needs the old M’gann (his M’gann, back before she was hard and manipulative and misguided), because he’s not sure he can deal with this, and he wants the loving comfort of M’gann’s arms around him. He’s a living weapon, a being created to protect and destroy and take people down, and it still isn’t enough to save the lives of the people he loves.

It kind of haunts me because 5 of the 6 chapters are published and I've occasionally gotten the odd comment over the years about finishing it. I mostly have three problems keeping me from finishing it: I could never figure out what I actually wanted to do for the last chapter, I wrote it in an experimental style that's personally difficult for me to replicate now, and I haven't watched the show in a long time so my memories are a bit fuzzy. It's the only one of my YJ fics that I consider to be an active WIP even though I haven't touched it in nearly 6 years, because I do genuinely intend to finish it once I've gone back and re-watched the show for the first time since it went off-air in 2013. So...hope and pray that my creative juices to rework and finish it get sparked soon.

Ask me about one of my WIPs!

#my writing #young justice #long post #ask meme #asks

[lunarspew]

Hiii, I really admire your writing and I was wondering: What's your usual drafting process? I have my own, (which i will admit, is somewhat nightmarish) (Seen below (text color has no meaning)) Though I'm wondering how you usually draft your own writings?

How long do you usually spend on a "first draft" as well?

Oh my gosh first off - THANK U?! That’s so nice of you to say omg

Secondly: WOAH. I can’t say anything ‘cus my files are also a mess but that’s also a rly cool layout.

Thirdly: I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’ll do my best to explain

This got away from me. TLDR:

How I usually draft: Breaking down from big to small. Chapter outline to scene outlines to fleshing out scenes etc etc. Big to small.

How Long It takes: For my first draft, if I’m in a good mood/know where I’m going, I can get a chapter’s first draft (think rough ‘they did this and then they argued about this’ between actual writing) done in a couple of 20 minute writing sprints.

4 scenes would equal 80 minutes, done over a period of days. After that I usually spend like, a few weeks to a month editing over and over until I like it.

Now for the long shit. I ramble, I’m so sorry, I am not clear headed and that’s why It takes me so long to Edit/Publish lmao.

TA and BB are the first fics I’ve ever like. Decided that they were going to be Long and that I Really Want To Finish. I used to just write without knowing where I’m going, and that always ends with me abandoning things. So THIS TIME, I tried smth different.

The way I’ve done it so far (that has worked) has been:

Initial idea >

short desc. Of scenes that are driving me to write this in the first place / dialogue ideas i have >

rough bare bones outline start to finish >

Take a story beat template I like/fits and use that to flesh things out >

story beats >

draft scene by scene for chapters >

flesh out the rough scenes >

keep editing until i like it.

That. is the ideal way it would happen. It does not happen that way, lol.

This for an example is my first attempt at TA. Only a few lines of it made it to chapter one/i changed tenses and rewrite the whole thing. I haven't opened this file in a year or two and have moved everything to a new scrivener file since then.

For TA and BB I used Take Off Your Pants by Libbie Hawker for my initial outline.

I had it as a library book at the time and transcribed the outline process for it so I could come back and refer to it later. I’ll link my google docs here for that, (sorry about the shitty mouse drawing), though I do recommend reading the book.

Sorry, Rambling.

For TA and BB, I outlined it using that. TA I left a lot more loose / there are parts I don’t know how it’s going to go chapter by chapter.

For BB, that’s completely outlined, every chapter.

The idea is to go Big > Medium > Small. 

After the broad strokes outline, I go to chapter by chapter outline. Bare bones, just a few paragraphs.

Then I break that chapter into scenes.

For that, I’ve used a couple of different things. Usually I make sure to note character goals.

Most Recently I read 5,000 Words Per Hour and then Lifelong Writing Habit, both by Christ Fox. Those were more about habits, but I liked how he broke down the ‘scene summaries’. 

For each scene I break down I usually fill this out:

Characters: (who will be here, even if only minor)

Location: (where this happens. I try to keep it to one location per scene)

Major Action: (what happens. This part gets long, it’s where I summarize what happens in the scene)

Goal: (what I want to happen. Either I want info to be given to readers, or I need to move someone from point A to point B)

End: (how the scene ends/where it breaks off for new scene. Where characters are by this point.)

Emotions: (Emotions I want to get across/focus on during writing.)

Then I do a 20 minute Writing Sprint where I just word vomit that scene. I don’t let myself edit or press backspace (HARD!!!) and that’s my Draft 1 for that scene.

Usually that’s about 1k words. I know I’m an overwriter so I can kinda guess how long the scene will be once it’s fleshed out.

It goes from This kinda stuff (spoilers for chapter 6 of TA)

To 

This is my draft 1/first ‘serious’ write thru. I’m fine sharing screenshots cus most likely it will end up very different by the time I publish it.

TIME wise? Oh god it really depends. Sometimes I get it down right the first few times. Others…

Oogh.

I have a checklist I try to go through. Once I sort of get what I want down/solid/stop with my cuts, I go thru the list with each pass.

So like Draft 3 could be just fixing dialogue. Draft 4 would be adding ‘show don’t tell’ and reworking sentence structure.

……… i just went to take a screenshot of my ‘final edit’ list and it looks like i wrote. everything out that I do in a far more concise way at some other point. God dang.

Anyway

All that is to say, time wise, it depends!

My goal is to publish once a month. Around the middle of the month. If I’m actively working on something/make myself work on it i could get draft 2 banged out in a few days, and then I spend the next couple weeks picking at it/fixing it.

Other times, I avoid it until I get a sudden rush of inspo and write it out in one day. Again, spend a month editing it/hating it, then do one last rush job edit and post it (even if i think it’s not ‘perfect’ yet) and run away from my computer.

I don’t recommend doing it like this. I’m doing a mix of ‘serious’ writing habits (schedules, deadlines) and ‘i just write for fun’. And it’s. Not great.

I’m sure it’ll get streamlined eventually/the more I write since I’m new to like. Publishing long form stuff. But yeah. Sobs.

SORRY FOR RAMBLING AUGH. I hope this makes sense. As I said I'm not clearheaded/have a loto f brain fog so. yeagh.

I forget to write things down so most of my 'planning; is just floating around in my head until I remember it last second and have to scramble to put it back in/move it around my drafts lol.

#txt #TA #BB #this is really long and got out of hand #just a total ramble so sorry im super tired kaldfjhkasdjkl #i hope this makes sense #bleedingbonemarrow #writing #asks #TA spoilers #Reed #well #reed mention #I call pov chara Reed just cus i like writing that more than 'you' every time