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appocalipse · 2 months

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heyy if ur taking requests could u maybe do like bestfriends steve + reader where steve, eddie, nancy and robin have to pick up reader from a party and she’s like REAL drunk and just idk super clingy w steve and doesn’t wanna not be touching him. maybe eddie, nancy and robin all make fun of him for it but they acc find it rly cute.

thank you for your request! ♥♥♥ | 2.2k words

"Stevie!"

You collide into him suddenly, nearly knocking him back a step or two with the force of your momentum; there's a smile on Steve's face when you look up at him through eyes that are more than a little hazy with inebriation. You're drunk. Probably way past drunk, if the way the world won't seem to hold still is anything to go by, but you don't care. There are other things vying for your attention—like how warm he feels against you, how safe he makes you feel, how pretty he looks from up close...

"Whoa," Steve says as you lean even further into him and loop your arms around his waist in a tight hug. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?"

He doesn't mean it in a mean way, which is why you grin up at him from where you've got your cheek pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand now, a steady and calming rhythm that soothes something inside of you.

"Dunno," you reply, grinning stupidly when you catch sight of maybe three copies of Eddie Munson standing off to Steve's left; all of them have identical amused looks on their faces. "Might've had, like, a couple..."

Steve sighs deeply, though there's no exasperation or disappointment to be found in his expression when he tilts your face upwards to look you over properly. You just beam dopily at him, because he's so pretty right now you don't know what else to do.

"Dude," Eddie speaks up, drawing Steve's gaze away from you while your own attention goes back to pressing yourself even more snugly into him, "she is totally sloshed."

You frown, shaking your head in fervent disagreement.

"Am not!"

"Sure you aren't, sweetheart," Eddie agrees placidly, but you get the impression he doesn't really mean it.

Before you can point this out, however, the blurry shape of Robin Buckley steps forward. The room is dark with flashing strobe lights and smoky with incense and cigarette smoke, but you'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Who let you drink this much?" Robin asks as she lifts a hand up to brush some hair back from your forehead.

It's oddly soothing and so you lean into the contact with a happy hum. Robin and the others laugh — but then again, it sounds kinder than mean, the kind of laugh that bubbles up when you find something unexpectedly endearing, and so you don't mind as much as you maybe should.

"Nobody," you mumble as you press your face into the side of Steve's neck and take a deep breath in; his scent is the same as always, earthy and warm with an underlying hint of that stupid spray he likes to use sometimes. "I'm here alone. 'Cause Steve here blew me off for you guys, but that's okay," you say, even though, to be fair, it sort of isn't true — he didn't blow you off.

"Hey," Steve starts, sounding half-indignant and half-apologetic all at once. He's got an arm around your shoulder now, supporting you and keeping you upright, which makes you want to tangle yourself up in him completely. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to come hang out with you tonight!"

You sigh mournfully against his skin, feeling wistful all of a sudden. It's true. You hadn't told him. That was partially due to the fact that you had been trying to prove to yourself that you weren't so desperately and helplessly infatuated with him that you needed his presence constantly, but that plan had obviously backfired on you spectacularly.

"No," you mutter unhappily as Steve moves the two of you towards a nearby couch. "But I missed you. Don't wanna miss you."

Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, who are watching the two of you with expressions of varying degrees of amusement, exchange looks. Steve pretends not to notice, probably because he knows he won't like what they have to say if he hears it, and instead guides you down onto the cushions next to him. "You're drunk."

"You're pretty," you reply without hesitation, even though you're very clearly changing the subject. "It's unfair, y'know?"

You hear Robin snort, followed by a quiet thud like someone's just been slapped on the arm, and you know it's her who laughed, and that it must have been Nancy who'd shut her up. You don't know where Eddie is; you're not even sure when he wandered off, to be honest. You're too focused on Steve and the way his face looks under the colorful flashing lights.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely at your comment. His eyes are bright with laughter when you meet his gaze and nod confidently. "How do I get 'unfair', exactly?"

"'S all in the face," you say matter-of-factly, your own fingers trailing down his cheek in an almost absentminded gesture. "Kinda makes it hard to think about anything else sometimes, if I'm being real here. Like, it's not really fair, 'cause then what are we supposed to talk about? Oh, oh—and then there's your hair!"

"My hair?"

Robin wheezes somewhere behind you, which would have made you giggle if you were still paying attention to the people in the room besides Steve, but you're not.

"Mmhmm," you hum, your eyes running over the soft brown locks on top of his head. "Love it. Wanna touch it all the time. Y'see, Steve? You see? This is why it's not fair at all. And, and—" you trail off here for dramatic effect, squinting at him theatrically before leaning closer with your hand cupped to the side of your mouth, as if you're about to share something private. "—the way you make my insides feel? So, so unfair. Totally your fault, buddy."

"Wha-" Steve croaks out, looking alarmed and caught off guard by your drunken confession. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh," you regain your serious tone, frowning at him in a somewhat bemused manner when he continues to gape at you. "Not 'sposed to tell you. S'not the rules."

Eddie barks out a laugh somewhere off to your left, but Steve ignores him. "Rules?"

"Yeah, 's against the rules, dummy," you say, like he should've already known that. "Gotta follow the rules! Duh. Steve."

"Yeah, Steve, duh," Robin pipes up, earning herself a glare from Steve as well as a smirk from Eddie. "Oops, sorry. Please, continue."

"Can I touch your hair? Like, please, 'cause I might die if I don't, 'kay? If that's okay. Gotta test the theory. Just a little bit, though." You can tell by his expression that he wants to laugh, and that he's also mildly worried that you've lost your mind. "Please?"

Robin, Eddie and Nancy have their hands clapped over their mouths to contain their laughter. You're too drunk to notice, but Steve narrows his eyes at them in warning. "Yes," he says. "Just—yeah, go ahead."

With a little noise of excitement, you reach out to card your fingers through his hair. He smells really good — like clean laundry and fresh pine trees — and the feel of his hair in your palm is exactly what you had imagined, though you're loathe to pull your hand away now that you've felt it.

Steve goes unnaturally still as you press your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a move he should have expected but didn't, and you sigh happily when the scent of his cologne hits you full force. He's like a living, breathing, cuddly teddy bear, you think, a combination of warmth, softness, and comfort all rolled up in one gorgeous, handsome, unobtainable package.

"You're warm," you mumble, feeling like you could fall asleep right now. "So, so warm. 'S like you've got a space heater in your chest, 'n that's like, so awesome."

He blinks a few times, momentarily speechless as he tries to come to terms with the fact that you are, in fact, drunk enough to be saying whatever the hell comes to your mind. "Uh, thanks?"

"Smell nice too," you murmur, hugging him tighter to you. "Like, wow. Love your hair, like, love love."

His cheeks are burning hot now, his heart beating erratically in his chest when he notices Eddie staring at the two of you with a knowing gleam in his eye. "That's—thank you, but, hey, come on now," Steve says, his voice faltering a little. "Let's get you home, okay?"

"I don't wanna."

"Don't you wanna sleep in your bed?"

You pause, considering his words, and eventually concede that, yes, your bed does sound lovely right about now, so you give him a brief nod in response. "I guess, but can you come too?"

He chokes on air, but manages to play it off by clearing his throat. "What—to your bed? No!"

"Why not?"

Steve shifts a little under your intense, alcohol-addled scrutiny; he feels strangely guilty, as though he's letting you down by saying no. "Because you're drunk?" he says, feeling flustered and unreasonably nervous all of a sudden.

You scrunch up your face in a pout. "Oh, that's a dumb reason."

Steve chuckles and you sigh happily again, because you love his laugh and everything else about him, and he seems to realize this, given the way his expression softens. "Come on, you drunkard. Let's go home," he says gently, tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to stand.

You resist at first, shaking your head stubbornly as you hold onto him. "Can't. My legs don't work anymore. They're all wobbly."

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, huffs out a soft laugh, and you can't help but grin up at him. He's so pretty that, like, how is that even allowed? How can you be around him and not spontaneously combust or something?

"Well, what if I carried you?"

"Like a princess?"

Steve looks at you with an expression you can't decipher — it's halfway between incredulous and endeared, and it makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage.

"How romantic," Nancy observes.

"So long as she doesn't throw up on him," Eddie adds, nodding sagely in agreement.

"Oh, I hope she does," Robin says, with a devious smile, "he'd deserve it for being such a coward."

"I'm...right here, guys, and I can still hear you." Steve finally says, throwing them a scathing look that only makes them laugh. "If you're not going to be helpful, you can wait in the car."

"As if," Eddie counters.

Steve opens his mouth to tell him where exactly he can stick his opinions, when you grab the front of his shirt and drag him closer.

"Steve," you say, the smile falling from your face as a sudden thought occurs to you. "Are you mad at me? Because I can go home by myself. That's okay."

"Hey, no," he replies softly, "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. Not ever."

"'Sweetheart'? Really?" Eddie mutters to Nancy, who elbows him in the ribs when he doesn't lower his voice in time. "Ow, okay, okay—just saying. Don't want them to keep dancing around each other forever, is all."

"I'm not dancing," you tell him, completely unaware of Eddie's snickering, "I don't have any shoes on, Eddie. Wouldn't be able to dance without shoes on. Silly."

"My bad," Eddie says, his lips twitching with badly concealed laughter, "forgive me."

Steve scowls at him before turning his attention back to you, his face so close to yours that you can momentarily feel the tickle of his breath against your skin. "Okay, come on," he says, "up we go."

And then, in one swift movement, he slides his arm under your knees and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise and automatically wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

"Oh, oh, oh," you say excitedly, "you really are gonna carry me."

"Told you so." Steve adjusts his grip on you and makes his way towards the exit. "Are you good? Am I hurting you?"

You shake your head slowly, grinning as you stare at him from a whole new angle. "No," you tell him, feeling much more awake than you were moments before. "This is...this is like, actually kinda cool."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, smiling shyly back at him. "Feel like a real life Cinderella now. Whoa, you're, like, super strong."

"Yeah, Stevie, you're 'super strong.'" Eddie teases, waggling his eyebrows when Steve sends him a quick glare. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It's cute. The two of you."

Nancy doesn't tease like Robin and Eddie do. She walks behind Steve, making sure to stay a couple steps behind to give the two of you some privacy. Even so, when you look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's listening, she gives you a wink and a small thumbs-up that makes you smile.

The parking lot is filled with teenagers all wandering aimlessly in groups, so it takes Steve a while to navigate his way through the crowd. By the time he finds the spot where he parked his BMW, you've grown drowsy enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

Eddie immediately pops open the door to the backseat, slapping it a few times as he looks over at Steve and grins. "Hurry it up, lover boy," he drawls out, "she looks half-asleep already."

"She's fine," Steve shoots back, frowning in annoyance when Eddie and Robin both pretend to yawn exaggeratedly, "shut up. I hate you guys."

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alastors-wife · 1 year

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jesus christ

#at this point im ready to flat out beg for surgery #if ur on the max (safe) dose of multiple medications for the same condition... yea i give up pls just cut me open and get it over with #because this shit is NOT helping enough and its so dangerous #i mean. i rly dont *want* to have to get surgery because that fucking blows but id rather not risk death #jesus. count ur blessings if ur not disabled. holy fuck #its too early in the god damn morning #(will possibly delete later im just complaining about shitty health stuff rq)#not to mention i am UNBELIEVABLY jealous of the folks who got surgery for this and it was successful #and that part of their lives kinda went back to normal for the most part #or they were at least able to drastically decrease the dose of their meds #cant say im fond of being on a gigantic dose of multiple medications at 25 tis not a pleasant experience #and god only knows what these sketchy ass meds are doing to my body #i would prefer to not be one of the poor bastards that finds out that 20 yrs later their meds is what gave them kidney failure #or some crazy shit like that #modern medicine is great but i got trust issues way too much of this shit is so dangerous 😭#and the vast majority of my experiences with ''holistic'' treatment was PURE ass it did absolutely nothing. or it just made it worse #why are we still in the dark ages bro #i will say this is definitely one of those times im grateful im pretty chill about most medical stuff and don't really get scared of much #except for covid tests those big ass swabs scare me. but blood tests? dental work? MRIs?? certain surgeries? idc man go crazy #if u know what ur doing and its gonna help idc what u do. give me painkillers and treat me well and im happy

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anniebass · 17 days

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baby don't be mad

1.3k word actverse ficlet under the jump rating: M tags: dialogue-heavy, beginning of the relationship, the boys are arguinggg, old man eddie's being a clueless slut, and also a dweeb, and steve's being... a person that rly needs therapy lol

Rapid catchups, they name it, though it doesn’t really need a name, it’s basically just talking. Early on Eddie realizes he doesn’t know all that much about his sexy old-but-new long distance serious boyfriend, that he possesses a fuckton of outdated information, that, duh, people change, especially in the long-ass time they spent apart. That the habits and opinions of a twenty-year-old shithead don’t necessarily last until someone’s forties.

That evening, they do the rapid catchups, starting off easy, prompted by the takeout dinner they have at Steve’s: best Asian food, go, at which without a second thought Steve says Chinese, while Eddie goes with Japanese, love me some sushi, yum. Later, when they’re full of kung pao and mapo tofu, lazily digesting on the couch, half-watching an old movie where Sharon Stone saunters across the screen and smolders at bad men, Steve says: you have to sleep with a woman, any woman in the world, dead or alive, go.

Eddie groans and slides down the couch, throws his hands up: dude, I don’t know! Uh, like maybe— Cleopatra? Or maybe one of those amazonian greek warriors with one boobie?

So, no one you actually know the face of? he says, with a little smirk.

Man, I don’t— I mean, there are some beautiful women walking this earth, like stunning stunning women I can’t get enough of, but that don’t mean I want to fuck them! My willy shrinks at the thought, he explains meekly, and shrugs, clicking his tongue: I dunno, maybe Eartha Kitt? She seems very fun.

Good choice, mutters Steve, and to Eddie’s your turn he tilts his head, scratches his nose: I don’t know if that question really applies to me. But if I had to have a sex list, it would be… Linda Evangelista? Or Sharon, she’s hot. Or— yeah, Monica Belucci, Jesus. Her, definitely. If not her then Cleopatra, that’s actually a great answer, she must have been good for all that shit to go down around her, he says with a smile, and Eddie sighs dreamily, oh, I’d love to watch. From the closet, imagine myself in her place. In a little egyptian wig, he adds, to which Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

Alright, my turn. Best casual sex you’ve ever had, go, says Eddie, and Steve hums at that, leans back on the couch, rubbing his chin, mumbling under his breath, until he sighs and says: I actually didn’t have that much of it beyond my teens, and what I had back then was very… teenaged, y’know. And in that short gap between my first and second wife I slept with just three people, two dudes and one woman, and neither of those was mind-blowing. The guys were kinda disappointing, I thought after so many years of straight sex I’d be blown away, but it was just… okay. Actually—, he adds, shaking his head: it sucked. I was drunk, they were drunk, I don’t remember much of it. Or don’t want to. I remember stinky balls. So, I dunno—, he says, and sighs, and glances at him: am I a big loser if I say the best one was when we reconnected? Could say it was still casual back then, right? When we fucked in the church, or by the pool, or—, yeah, there was a lot of it, on that trip.

It really was magical, agrees Eddie, smiling at him.

So, uh, your turn, says Steve. Best you've ever had, go.

Oh, man, mutters Eddie. I know my answer to that. Japan, in the mid-nineties. We were on tour and stayed for a few nights in Tokyo, and I got to explore the city, research shit with the help of a very discreet translator, and finally, on our last night there, I ended up in a gay bar. Very hush-hush, a basement place hidden away in some grimy back alley, he says, lowering his voice into sultry tones of gossip. Met a guy there, this… slightly chubby middle-aged businessman type, suit and tie and briefcase, wedding ring on his finger, very regular looking guy, and we drank sake through the night, sang some karaoke, and ended up in some seedy by-the-hour love hotel. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t speak a lick of English, I was obviously drunk, but I still remember that night like it was yesterday. God, just— the way that guy fucked me, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body without having seen it before, the way he just knew what I wanted without any language, it was insane. We did it a few times that one night, practically without stopping, and never saw each other again. I actually jerk off to that memory to this day.

To this, Steve lets out a small hm, purses his lips and leans back, crossing his arms, and Eddie clicks his tongue, leaning closer, touching his shoulder: aw, don’t be jealous. That was casual, but out of all people, of course you are my number one, no contest. I just— remember that one time in Japan, because it worked so well without language, and that’s always kinda hot. Language of love, all that cheesy stuff. Up to that point and following it, it'd mostly happen with some hot Brazilians.

Okay, he says.

Eddie sighs, watching his face: Steve, you know that’s what my life was like back then, this neverending barrage of hookups. And most of those weren’t even that good, like, you talk of stinky balls? I met dozens, slobbered over them anyway like they were fucking Ferrero Rocher!, he says to a small groan in return, then sighs, speaks softer: being with you is a completely different quality from that, even from my previous relationships. It’s way different. With Marcell, we both slept around, there wasn’t much that we had in common beyond, like, incredible attraction at the beginning, and the fact that we work in the same industry, could endlessly talk about that. And with Zu, we— we really loved each other, but we weren’t a good fit. It was this weird thing where she needed someone more masc, but also I needed someone more masc, he says with an amused scoff. We were two bottoms in love, and it’s hard to make it work in the long term, without fucking other people. We’re way better off as friends. And the other dudes I dated, it was just— me being a drunken asshole, most of the time. I was a very shitty boyfriend for a looong-ass time.

There’s a stretch of silence, and Steve slides down the couch, still frowning: man… I just wonder why you asked that question in the first place. Because it seems to me like you wanted to brag a little about this incredible hookup you had in fucking… Japan. Do you miss fucking other people, Eddie?

He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair: Steve, I literally just told you I don’t. I might romanticize it, the— the way I might romanticize being on drugs, but I don’t want to go back to that. I asked because I want to know everything about you! I dunno, I— I guess I like Japan. It’s such a weird place, I really want to go back there, he says and inches closer, placing a calm hand on his thigh: come with me. Like, for two weeks or something. We’d take the girls with us, go in the summer or for the spring break. Would be cool to just wander around, shop, sing karaoke, eat tons of good food. Go to Kyoto, see the geishas, tea ceremony. Go to hot springs. Japan’s truly like no place you’ve ever been to.

I didn't know you liked it that much. A trip does sound nice, says Steve, with a small smile. Emily would go crazy, she loves those cartoons. Chels would like it too, I think.

Eddie smiles and squeezes his leg: sounds like a plan. Also, just to— get it out of the way: from the moment you first kissed me, I stopped thinking of us as casual. I was, like, fully fully back in love with you in point two seconds. Even before that, to be honest. If I ever for a single moment considered that a hookup, it’d totally blow that businessman out of the water. If you want, I could show you, uh, how I blew him out of the— fucking—, he falters, then snorts: sorry, failed metaphor. But you catch my drift.

Yes, please, says Steve.

#posting the roughs here bc I don't care enough to put it up on ao3 #if you've never read anything of mine don't start here bestie #I'm dead serious #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #act verse #steddie fic #old steddies #ficlets

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eternalgyu · 2 months

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me if you even care?!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ genre: fluff, crack

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing: ot7 riize x reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: kissing

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ notes: riize brainrot for life

OSAKI SHOTARO

shotaro would find your bow agenda soo cute

especially when you put bows on every single thing you have in the house

like your hairbrush, your hair pins all your plushies had bows on them

he was scrolling on his phone one day when you tap his shoulder

“can i put bows on you :D”

would be confused you but would agree regardless because he is whipped

SUCH A PRETTY BABY

his curly hair would have 2 bows on each side and obv around his wrists as bracelets

WOULD DO THE CUTEST POSES WHEN TAKING PICTURES WITH YOU LATER

he'd be shy at first tho like covering his face

you would put ur lips on his cheek for another pose and after he would be like "okay kiss me properly now"

JDHSISIIAIA

giggling rn where's my taro

WOULD TAKE ONE OF THE BOWS AND PUT IT ON HIS BEANIE.

AND KEEP IT THERE

:(((

SONG EUNSEOK

he would find it odd but wouldnt rly say anything

mostly just because he doesn't see the hype

he might bully u sometimes but would still call u cute

until you come up to him w a roll of ribbon in ur hands.

at first he's super against it

and when you start begging him he gives in

reluctantly

"only because you look like a loser righr now and i pity you"

sigh.

what you don't know is that he's doing it because he's very whipped

gets super red when you get close to him to put on the bows

pulling you close to him when you take photos and videos afterwards

from then on he starts buying bow stuff for you!!

we've coquettifed him guys 🫡

JUNG SUNGCHAN

sungchan would pick up and comment on your new bow obsession pretty fast

would lowkey be fueling it by playing w ur hair when you had bows and kissing your forehead more

and would be confused but would let you when you offered to give him a makeover

PLS he'd be giggling the whole time tbh saying the ribbon was tickling him

"it tickles tho… WAIT BABE STOP"

AFTER the laughing fit

literally cutest poses when you guys are taking photos

bats his eyelashes HES JUST SO CUTE

hes so adorable I could take a bite out of him

what.

defo does this trend w u

fully coquettifed guys

AND

you start putting bows on his weights aswell <3

PARK WONBIN

i feel like wonbin would be well aware of the trend

definitely on the pretty ppl side of tt

and would just laugh when he sees bows everywhere

and when you ask him if you could put bows on him when he comes back from work

he would agree obv

bow on his neck as a choker <3

but SOMEHOW this man doesn't stop smouldering the whole time

serving face 24/7

and when you furrow your eyebrows in concentration he would let it slip for a moment

and smile at uuuuu

after you're done you snap a picture and send it to the gc w the rest of the boys

"hyung u look like a baby lamb" - anton

HIS FACE WOULD DROP

and you take your opportunity

and snap as many pictures as u can

blackmail photos <3

but in general he's the prettiest bby and he looks even prettier w bows <3

HONG SEUNGHAN

he finds your small obsession so so adorable

like he smiles so endearingly when he discovers yet another mug w a small ribbon tied to the handle

and when you ask him the big question he ofc agrees.

now this man can't have you this close to him without kissing you

like your trying to tie a ribbon and somehow his hand is behind your ear and he's pulling you down for a kiss

so after failing the second hair bow

you tie his hands together and finish the carefully tied knot with a bow

same thing for his legs.

you then proceed to take photos w him

"my hosta- boyfriend if u even care 😍"

where he poses adorably in the back

the video blows up and u become tiktok famous 🧍🏼‍♀️

u take more photos

wants atleast one picture where ur both kissing 🙄

cutie patootie.

LEE SOHEE

he thinks every single thing you do is so cute

ONE OF THE PICS OF U W BOWS IS HIS PFP

hes actually is the one fueling the bow obsession you have

"it looks a bit boring. should we put a bow on it?"

SO ADORABLE ACTUALLY

"yn, i saw this trend where people put bows on their boyfriends"

BOWS EVERYWHERE

he'd have small pigtails everywhere fastened by pink pretty ribbons

he probably has pink kiss marks aswell because he said it would "fit the aesthetic"

you definitely have a moment

where u turn around to kiss his cheek

and he turns around and his lips meet urs...

just saying 🤷‍♀️

coquetted to the max pookies

LEE CHANYOUNG

I don't rly think anton wouldn't pick up on it at first??

like sure he's chronically online but i don't think he's seen this trend

like he's see the bows and think they're cute

but wouldnt notice too much

which is why he's so surprised

"bows?? like jojo siwa…?"

anton knows all the trends except this one

JSJSJS U WOULD MAKE EYECONTACT W HIM

AND HE WOULD STARE BACK

and smile

and you would have to start again.

bow on his biceps.

it's self explanatory

WOULD DO CUTE TT DANCES W U

and suddenly when he walks into the dance room he's has a small pink ribbon tied to his headphones

AND HE SAYS IT REMINDS HIM OF U :((

taglist: @slytherinshua

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55sturn · 3 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ PETER LOSIN’ WENDY

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris doesn't realize that while pursuing another girl, he's losing the girl that would've been the one for him.

↳ pairings: chris sturniolo x fem!reader | chris sturniolo x named fem!oc

↳ warnings: swearing, drunk!reader + drunk!chris, cheating, angst, angst, and even more angst, unresolved hurt.

↳ author's note: hehehehe i love angst! this is lowkey short and will not have a part two!

↳ important notes: red text blocks are lyrics that prelude what’s about to happen!

THIRD PERSON POV

chris didn't realize he had made a mistake until it was far too late. he thought that amelia was the girl he wanted, but he soon realized that he couldn't have been more wrong.

he really, truly though that he would have enough will and time to choose between the two girls, however he didn't realize that as he chased them both, he was losing the girl that was the one for him.

VINTAGE TEE, BRAND NEW PHONE, HIGH HEELS ON COBBLESTONES

as y/n and chris made their way home from some random los angeles party, the couldn't help but giggle each time y/n's heels clicked against the cobblestone path they walked along. the two couldn't help their drunken giggles as they blindly made their way home.

"you should take those off before you hurt yourself." chris laughed, his hand intertwined with hers as he held his phone in the other.

"i'll be fine. you never told me where your shirt was from by the way."

"it's from some vintage thrift store back home in boston."

"i like it." she whispered, titling her head as she stared at him beneath the streetlight.

"let me take a picture of you, i don't have any on this phone yet." chris smiled, taking the picture as she blushed, watching as he set as his lockscreen.

BUT I KNEW YOU, DANCING IN YOUR LEVI'S, DRUNK UNDER A STREETLIGHT

the two continued their walk home, haphazardly walking into each other as they stumbled further down the path. their hands loosely intertwined with each other's, chris couldn't help pull her closer to him, his other hand falling to her waist as he softly rocked their bodies back and forth, humming a slow beat to a song playing quietly in his head.

"i like this side of you." she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes at he smiled down at her.

"not many get to know this side of me, but you do."

"i wanna know every side of you." she smiled back, watching as his eyes sparkled slightly.

y/n slowly walked ahead, unaware of chris' phone pinging in his pocket, another girl blowing up his messages wondering where he was as she missed him.

with a shameful sigh, he plucked his phone from the back pocket of his levi's, swiping away the notifications she sent his way.

HAND UNDER MY SWEATSHIRT, BABY KISS IT BETTER // SAID I WAS YOUR FAVOURITE

chris hand was beneath the back of y/n's sweater as she cried against his chest, her head hurting from the amount of stress she had dealt with during the day.

"baby, can you kiss it better?" she teased, trying to lighten her mood, making chris roll his eyes before pressing a gentle kiss to the girl's forehead, smiling against her skin as she keened into his touched.

walking backwards, he led her to her couch, falling back against the cushions, pulling her on top of him as he continued to rub her back, hoping to ease some of her stress.

"you're my favourite person, y'know that?" chris whispered as she laid her head on his chest, her fingers dancing along his bicep as they laid there.

"i am?"

"without a doubt."

CHASE TWO GIRLS, LOSE THE ONE

y/n hadn’t meant to pry and prod, but chris had grown distant lately, he was off around her and she was curious. so when his phone pinged while he was in the shower, she let her curiosity get the best of her. but she wished she hadn't as she read the notification that lit up his screen.

amelia

cmon chris, you know i'm the one you rly want

every time she re-read the girl's message, it chipped away at her heart. how could chris do this her? betrayed couldn't even begin to describe how she felt. as chris' screen faded to black, she heard the water shut and she couldn't be bothered to move. she didn't realize she was crying until chris was kneeling in front of her, gently wiping her tears.

"what's wrong y/n?"

"who's amelia?"

"wait what?" chris sputtered, her question sending shockwaves through this body as she stared at him, completely unsure of who was kneeling before her.

"who is she?"

"she's no one, baby i promise."

"tell me the truth, who is she, chris?"

"i met her the night we came home from that party and i've been seeing her occasionally since." he whispered, finding no use in lying to her as she sat there, her tears of sadness becoming tears of anger as she felt her hurt settle in her heart.

"get out."

"what?"

"get out. i'm done. we're done. i'm not going to sitting around while you chase some other girl."

BUT I KNEW YOU'D LINGER LIKE A TATTOO KISS // I KNEW YOU'D HAUNT ALL MY WHAT-IFS

for months following her breakup with chris, y/n had been a shell of who she used to be. she hadn't experienced the heartbreak he caused before in her life. it had left behind a different kind of hollow in her chest. a void that no one would fill.

no one except chris.

and for months, he lingered in her life. in the back of her mind as she walked down the streets they used to walk together. the ghost of his lips pressing against her temple every time she had a migraine. the feeling of his hand beneath her sweater, fingertips mindlessly drawing shapes the small of her back as she laid in bed. the smell of his cologne stubbornly sticking to her pillow cases on his side of the bed.

he was everywhere and she couldn't forget him. he was a ghost unable to move on as she felt swallowed and suffocated by her pain. she didn't know what to do and she couldn't take the after-shocks that his infidelity put her though.

he invaded every thought she had.

what if i'm not good enough?

what if was i enough for chris?

what if they cheat on me like chris did?

what if i can't move on?

what if chris is hurting too?

he was everywhere in her mind. he haunted every possible chance she had at moving past the pain she felt.

I KNEW YOU'D MISS ME ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRED, AND YOU'D BE STANDING IN MY FRONT PORCH LIGHT, I KNEW YOU'D COME BACK TO ME

y/n knew chris would come miss her once the thrill of being with amelia had faded. she wasn't someone chris could be with long time, from what she had been told by people knew her. she knew he'd come back, he made a promise that he'd find his way back to her as he walked out of her house that night.

but as she pulled into her driveway, she found him standing under her porch light, his hair sticking to his forehead as the rain fell against it. sighing, she got out of her car, the door slamming shut behind her as she stood there.

"chris."

"i miss you."

"no. you don't get to do this chris."

"listen please." he pleaded, watching as she looked up toward the sky for a moment, her eyes closed as her shoulders fell before looked back at him, nodding and crossing her arms.

"i know i fucked up. i made the wrong choice and put someone before you and i shouldn't have. i should've never gone for her. i had a good thing going and i completely fucked it up."

"chris you need to leave, please. i can't go through that kind of pain again."

"please give me one more chance. i'll do better."

"if i let myself forgive you, i won't be able to forgive myself. i will be subjecting myself to constantly worrying that i'll never be enough for you. i'll be walking on eggshells around you, scared to push you into the arms of another girl. i cannot put myself through that again. when i found out you cheated on me, it stripped me of everything i knew. i lost my sense of stability and sense of who i was. i became someone i didn't know, i was fucking destroyed chris. so no, i cannot let you back into my life because i would be betraying the promise i made myself."

"i'm so sorry y/n, i wish i could fix my mistakes but just know, that if i can ever be forgiven by you, i'll be waiting. i'll always wait for you and i'll always love you."

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do-you-know-this-adhd-character · 2 months

Text

Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

Evidence under the cut!

This is my own submission with the help of some Discord friends <3

First friend's evidence:

tbh adhd zagreus is largely vibes to me but for more specific evidence:

inability to work a desk job properly no matter how much he tries. ability to run marathons thru the underworld 24/7. one is not an interest of his and the other is a thing he got obsessed with in 0.5 seconds. man struggles with directing his attention

the fact that he basically never wants to stay still ever, even the narrator gets on his case about this

additionally to above: iirc there's a line where he mentions he won't be able to get started again if he sits down, when you try to interact with chairs in the house, which. mood. gotta keep momentum going or the task doesn't get done.

rly thoughtful to his loved ones but still forgets to tell them his whereabouts or plans (thanatos)

no concept of time

nonexistent sleep schedule

the entire admin chamber flashback, honestly, just look at that

there's more bullet points probably i just don't have specific moments in mind to back em up

Second friend's evidence:

The man exists for short term dopamine hits - He gets demonstrable rewards and actionable improvements in his abilities with the low low cast of some physical pain after maybe twenty minutes of running around blowing things up, it's like the perfect loop for any adhd brain

Also as a pinnacle of adhd zag - It's only with actual long term investment that he gets better at playing the lyre, which means that most players won't go for it unless they're actively trying to get the prophecy done.

#poll #noncanon adhd character #hades #zagreus #hades game #hades zagreus #hades supergiant #i got sad that i couldnt find a properly adhd character in the fandom i want to propagandize #so im consoling myself by queuing my own submission #I Love Him.#i normally am not one for super combat focused games although this has changed in the past few years #but i loooooved hades #and zag is so painfully adhd #i love him so much.#i should play hades again.

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marisferasiop · 8 months

Text

Transplant

Chapters: 2/3 up

Also on ao3 (part 2 now up on ao3!)

Rating: Explicit MINORS DNI- Clicking "read more" implies your consent!

Warnings: canon-typical gore, canon-typical violence, smut, p in v (unprotected, wrap your tool) no creampies, oral, hand jobs, money shots (we don't want apocalypse babies) mention of abortion (in passing- reader is a doctor), tremendous fluff ahead, some angst (re: Joel's insecurities), Ezra is his own warning, Joel is not bi in this but Ezra is (not rly acted upon but mentioned), poly dynamics and conversations, Ellie moving out, Cee and Ellie will be together by the end. Did I mention smut; literally the opening scene is smut.

Summary: You are a resident and the only trained doctor in Jackson. You're bubbly and sweet, outgoing and friendly--- and also in an unlabeled "situationship" with the town scrooge, Joel Miller. He won't say you're together, but he'll scare anyone else off.

When Tommy drags back a half- dead man and girl from a patrol, you dutifully patch them up and help them settle into their new slotted house- across Rancher Street from yours and Joel's houses. Ellie and Cee get in like a bonfire, and when Joel sees how often you talk to your newest patient, his insecurities make him draw up and away from you.

As you slowly give up on him and start something with Ezra, Joel's pining turns to frustration. Tommy convinces him to see if you'd be interested in being a throuple. Surprisingly, you and Ezra are both open to the idea.

But can Joel's insecurities and possessiveness withstand such an arrangement? Or will the blow of another loss be what finally breaks him?

Word count: about 10k (for part one of 3)

Author notes: Eyooooo I'm back on my bullshit with a new addition. This has been on ao3 for about a week. Please like and reblog to spread the wealth! Unlike ao3 this is not an archive and views depend on your interaction! (So does my continued writing!)

Part One:

Joel has got you absolutely wrung dry.

You’re bent over your kitchen island, toes barely brushing the floor and thighs shaking from the aftershocks of your third ( fourth ?) orgasm since he’d shouldered his way through your door nearly an hour ago. Every time you gasp, he snaps his hips harder up into you.

Never fully satisfied with a fuck-and-duck, Joel had strode in, picked you up, kissed you senseless while he shoved your jeans down, smeared you face down across the countertop, and ate you from behind so thoroughly you weren't sure you could even take his cock from how tight he had your pussy clenched around his tongue and fingers.

But he had slipped into you easily, your drooling slick helping his fat girth stretch you wide despite the contractions of your most recent orgasm. He pounds into you now, with you pinioned efficiently under his breadth with a hand fisted in your hair at your nape and him holding your wrist in place behind your back to your opposite hip with the other. His soft grunts and murmured praise make your spine arch. Your hips are already bruising from the counter edge, and you bite your lip at the mental image of seeing that erotic evidence later.

You push your free hand beyond the ledge of the worktop and swirl your fingers over your engorged, oversensitive clit, propelling you quickly into another orgasm- though this one is not as strong. Your body is absolutely exhausted from his diligent overworking.

“ Almost - honey , just –” he grunts rhythmically with the slap of his hips, and pulls out to spill across your ass just as abruptly as he’d dove in. He drapes down over your back, catching his breath with his mouth fastened on your shoulder. You reach up and wind your fingers in his hair, keeping him bowed over you, warm and close, catching your breath. Barely a minute passes before he pulls back and is moving slowly away to the bathroom under the stairs to fetch a damp cloth.

He wipes at the mess between your legs and on your lower back, and you think of him planting a firm hand there earlier to guide you out of the Tipsy Bison after catching a guy just winding down from that day’s supply scouting trip having the audacity to flirt (poorly) with you.

Joel won't say he's yours , or you’re his , but he’ll sure as hell scare off any competition. You’d bring it up if it was bothersome; in reality you sort of like the unleashed, broad, imposing dominance of him, paired with the open availability for sex that he’s left largely up to you. Like an ongoing, wildly overprotective booty call.

The thought makes you huff a quiet laugh into your forearm.

Most of Jackson is still wide-eyed and wary of him. Rumors of how he and Ellie made it back to Jackson are rife with hyperbole- making the nearing-sixty older man out to be some sort of superhuman mass murderer.

You’re just sure that even if he is, he did what he had to to protect his little girl.

Even more rumors abound about how the town’s resident scrooge managed to stake a(n unsubstantiated) claim on the town’s most level- headed and sun-shiney bachelorette- the commune’s only actual doctor.

Joel is tossing the soiled rag in the sink and helping you back to your feet on wobbly legs when there's a pounding at your door.

“Come on, Sunny! We got an injured guy back from patrol!” you hear Brendan, the head of the wall patrol yelling from the porch.

“ Shit ,” you yank your clothes back up in a hurry. You blink up at Joel, pulled too fast from bliss into action. “Sounds like I'll be at the clinic late.”

Joel nods and shoves his boots on, intending to take the back door and cut through the back yard to his house next door. “See ya tomorrow, then, hon,” he murmurs. He drops a kiss to your cheek and shuts the door behind him, locking the knob.

You grab your heavy coat and shrug it on to beat the swirls of snow outside before rushing out and meeting Brendan on the street.

“What happened?”

“Patrol brought in a girl and her dad, he’s unconscious, feverish, and bleeding real bad. Both are hypothermic. Tested negative of course, both of ‘em, but I'm not real sure the guy’s gonna make it.” You are both hurrying across town back to your clinic as fast as the frigid air icing down your throat will let you.

“Animal, infected, or raiders?”

“I think they broke off a slaver ring,” Brendan says quietly, leaning in as you rush up the porch. “That, or some raiders had them for a while . He’s -- I don't know what to make of the arm injury, it’s fucked . But he’s been stabbed in the chest, and Sam said she thinks he’s got frostbite.”

“ Fuck ,” you growl, and wrench open the door to your clinic and rush to the back. Immediately, five heads turn to you and sigh in relief. Sam, your nurse, has an unconscious man hooked up to IV and is covering his freezing body with the weighted damp- heat warming pads from the steamer. You can tell from the port in his throat that she couldn't find a vein in his arms, he’s that cold and dehydrated.

“Everyone out but the girl and whoever found them,” you quip to the group, and three people file out. The girl is on a chair, shivering violently but already has a cup of something steaming cupped in both hands and is still in somewhat damp, bloody clothes, though her wet shoes and socks are on the floor by the space heater. Her face and hands are smeared with dried blood, but from a glance you can tell it’s probably her dad’s. Tommy is standing by her, still and waiting on your opinion. He drapes a blanket across her shoulders and looks to you.

You pull gloves on and check the man’s pulse- it’s weak but there. He’s absolutely frigid to the touch. The fingers on his right hand are completely purplish- black, but the whole arm is a loss anyway. Sam has already pulled off his soaking wet clothes; jeans, socks, and boots, and a damp contrast coat lays crumpled on the pile, arms still laced through with a flannel in the same condition. A wet trail of blood is leaking from the pile and you squint at it; it’s red- fresh . The man himself is in naught but his rank briefs and is positively covered in heating packs and blankets to get his temp back up.

You look directly at Tommy and shake your head once. He clenches his jaw and nods, turning to the girl. “We need details , hon. Anything you can give us that will help. Was this people, or a group of infected? Raiders? Or slavers? A trap? A- a bear ?” He asks, kneeling on one knee by her and speaking softly. The girl is practically catatonic, a feral glint the only light in her eyes. Her clothes and hair are matted down with blood as well, but doesn't appear injured, nothing more than superficially anyway. After a minute, she speaks:

“We were at a- a slave camp. Some raiders had taken over our QZ and turned it into a slave camp, a year or two ago after the bombings,” she says woodenly, staring at the man- who Brendan had told you was her father.

You see no resemblance, but then Joel has none to Ellie. That doesn't mean there's no bond. These days, bonds are often thicker than blood.

“We made a plan, snuck out with a guy who told us he was a coyote- like a smuggler, but for people? - but he just led us to a cabin outside the walls where they take people trying to escape. It was a trap.” Her eyes flick up to Tommy and then back to you.

“They were going to hurt me, and he said to take it out on him instead. So they did that,” she nods to the man’s mangled arm. “And I shot both of them when they were distracted. The second guy, I missed the first shot and he stabbed–” she breaks off, biting her lip, staring at the chest wound. “But I got him , and then we ran.”

“ Jesus ,” Tommy breathes. You grimace and plunge a dose of morphine into the guy’s shoulder. He doesn't even stir. You watch his face, swollen and mottled and bloodied up as it is. He’s got a laceration up into his hairline as well, both eyes blackened and you suspect a broken nose, a split lip and old, dried blood coming out of one ear. You grit your teeth and turn back to the girl.

“How long has it been?” You ask, peeling the flannel he’s wearing off his mutilated arm. The wound is the entire circumference of his arm, like they were literally trying to hack it off slowly, with small tools. They stopped at bone, but you can see scrapings on the white. It wasn't for lack of trying.

“We’ve been running from the cabin for three days. I dont- I don't know how long we were there. At first we had a horse but it spooked and ran off when we came across some wolves, and they chased it instead of us. Crossed the Wyoming border, I think, yesterday. He didn't make it very far. I made a - a draggy– thing . Sled? Dragged him for a little bit. But we haven't had food, or anything, since the horse bolted with our packs. So I couldn't go any longer, and put us down in an old shed that was falling down, but it had a roof. And then he found us,” she glances up at Tommy again, curling into herself a bit.

You nod and turn to Sam. “Get him to the OR and prep for an amputation, and push antibiotics. I'll be right there.” Sam nods and pushes the gurney down the hall, disappearing behind the double doors. You turn back to Tommy and speak quietly.

“How many resources am I using on this guy? I’m gonna have to anesthetize to amputate, use blood packs, antibiotics, and pain meds, that's just to hopefully stabilize him.”

Tommy nods. “Do it. We need more hands. Even with one, he’ll be helpful. And we can train her up in somethin’. Cookin’ or sewing. Hell, she shot two guys, she might be good on patrols or runs, eventually.”

You nod and glance at the girl. “Can you find her a place for the night? Feed her something easy- broth, toast, a warm bath, not hot; she might develop some frostbite. Drink at least two cups of water, and sleep .” He nods and steps back, gesturing for the girl to get up. You call out before they leave:

“Last thing hon- what’s your dad’s name?”

She turns back, looking haunted, and swallows hard, staring at the swinging doors where he was taken. She doesn't correct you. “Ezra.”

________________

“Ezra? Eeeezra , wake up sugar. Come on! That’s it, almost. Little more. Come to me, you’re safe. No- no , don’t. Stay down. Eyes open, sweetheart, come on.”

A soft, soothing voice is luring him toward the light, but an oppressive force keeps Ezra from actually cracking his eyes open. When he tries, light blinds his swollen lids and makes them ache. He groans and waves at whoever is talking, trying to get them to leave him be.

“Sam, dim the lights a bit,” he hears the voice call out, and finally blinks an eye open. His entire body is sore but also feels weighed down and stuffed with cotton. Morphine , some lizard part of his brain supplies.

What the fuck? Where am I?

He tries to lift his right arm and nothing happens. A sharp pain lances through him and then is softened by whatever’s in his bloodstream, funneling into the itchy, ice- cold spot on the side of his neck. He struggles to sit again and feels hands pushing him back.

“Ezra, Ezra ! Stay down, you're safe. We got your girl, she’s okay. You're both safe. You’re hurt, though. Real bad. I need you to stay still. Can you lay back for me and let me see your eyes?” The sweet voice is back, and feels like silk dragging against his jagged senses. Ezra swallows against a bone-dry throat and makes a gritty sound- not words. “Here’s some water- a straw-” you prod the seam of his mouth with something squishy- rubber , he thinks, and frowns.

It is indeed water, a rubbery medical tube cut down into a straw poking out of it, and he struggles not to suck it all down before you’re already drawing away and telling him your name. “Not too fast, you’ll vomit it up. I’m the doctor here in Jackson. Your girl was found dragging you on a sled by our patrolmen, you tested negative for cordyceps so they brought you in. You’re hypothermic, and have a lot of injuries.”

“Cee?” He asks, raspy and uncoordinated. He finally fixes an eye on you, unable to open the other one, and you give him a small smile. “ Soleil ,” he says, and you huff a gentle laugh.

“Is Cee the girl? Your daughter?”

“Where she?” He asks, frowning. The action hurts his whole face, so he stops.

“She’s getting a hot meal and a shower, and hopefully some sleep. She’s okay, she’s not hurt. Just hungry and exhausted and scared. Can I prop you up just a little? Let me know if you get nauseous.” You lift the gurney on one side and prop him up maybe forty degrees when he nods. Ezra blinks around the room, watching it swirl in slow motion. There’s a bag of blood and a bag of IV fluid hanging off a rack above him, and you beside him, and another woman at the corner of the room. The aforementioned Sam , he guesses.

“I need to check your pupils. Gonna flash a light, can you follow my finger?” You cautiously rule out a concussion, though given the state of him, that’s a small comfort. “Ezra- can you remember what happened?”

He blinks at you and glances at the cup of water on the side table. You let him have another drink and take it away again. He feels nauseous. He swallows down the flood of saliva in his mouth and threads his brow together. “Slavers… took over our QZ in Bozeman ‘bout two years ago. I took Cee in when her father was killed. We worked together in the mines, he pissed off the pay clerk one day too many. She and I were running, trying to escape, and they trapped us. Those miscreants were gonna- gonna use her. Rape her. Talked about pullin’ her guts out so she couldn't get pregnant and putting her in the free use ring til she dropped. For the audacity of just tryna escape their manufactured hell. And I couldn't have that, so I told them to do what they would to me. And she- got ‘em. Somehow. Dragged me out half dead. Told her to leave me an’ run, but she wouldn't. Been… a few days, I think?”

“She said three days since you left the cabin. I've given you an antibiotic, painkillers. You just got out of surgery. Do you remember what they did to your arm?”

Ezra slits his one open eye at you and shifts, finally looking down at it. The still shock of his reaction worries you almost as much as the rest of his injuries did.

“I have to admit, I expected that.” he swallows against another roll of bile and drops his head back. “I am feeling nauseous now, soleil .”

You nod and drop him back, bringing a sick tray over in case he vomits. “I’m gonna give you another dose of pain meds and I need you to sleep , Ezra. I’ll stay here,” you tell Sam, nodding to the repurposed sofa along the wall while you push another dose into his IV port. “I’ll send one of the patrol guys over if I need a hand. Go get some sleep,” you tell her. “We can shift off tomorrow?”

“I’ll send Joel over for the night,” she says, and disappears before you can tell her no . You growl under your breath and turn back to your man on the gurney.

“You… don' like this Joel character?” Ezra says, his voice getting low and gritty again as the drugs start to pull him under. You give him a wry smile and scoff.

“It’s not that- he’s a worrier . He’ll sit out there on the porch all night with his rifle and freeze his ass off, and then I'll have two six foot tall, two hundred- fifty pound hypothermic, handome idiots to care for,” you tease, dragging a chuckle and a stilted, pained grin out of your patient.

Ezra huffs in mock offense at you. “I’d need a week of good meals to tip the scales like that anymore, chérie. Especially with the loss of– oh? Maybe eight, ten pounds’ worth of utility?” He glances back down at the tightly wrapped bundle of his amputation and sighs. “Any jobs in this town for a one- armed fella?”

“That is not what you need to be focused on right now,” you chastise. “Give yourself a few weeks. I sure we can find you something to do. We have a couple disabled folks here, you know. They pull their weight, too. It’ll be okay,” you tell him, covering him with two blankets and checking the heater in the room.

You give him your name again when he keeps calling you soleil and chérie , but it doesn't take. He must be delirious considering everything wrong with him right now. You settle back on the bench to wait for Joel to show. “If you wake up, yell at me. Do not try and get up by yourself,” you say, and Ezra nods, already mostly asleep. He finally drifts off a couple seconds later, and you tuck the blankets up closer around his neck, blocking the winter chill and still working to reheat his body. Less than five minutes later, you hear the thunk of the door shutting and move out of the recovery room into the hall.

Only one person in Jackson holds the bell when he walks in. A leftover habit of sneaking places, you assume.

“ Sunny ?” He calls, just before you push open the swinging door to the back.

“Hey,” you say, feeling awkward. “I told Sam not to get you.”

“Why?” Joel asks, frowning. You see that he feels abruptly wrong-footed and keep talking.

“I don't need a guard? I told Sam to go home, I'd call her if I need her. Guy has to sleep it off, he’s quite literally half dead.” You shake your head with a shudder. “Tommy took off with the girl; I don’t know where he put her for the night. She was ok though. Only about Ellie’s age. They broke from a slaver hold .”

Joel’s eyes drop wide and flick back toward the room you'd just come out of. “ Shit .”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “Anyway- go home. Get some sleep. Aren't you on night rounds starting this week?”

“Yeah,” he parrots back, scuffing his boot on the tile. “Don’t mind stayin’ though.”

“You can , of course. But I don't see why you’d sit here all night while I sleep when you can sleep in your own bed, not worry Ellie when she wakes up and you're gone. I’ll be back there if you decide to stay and need something.” You jerk your head back toward the hall and go back, hearing the front door shut behind you.

_______________

You wake up to someone calling your name urgently but not very loudly, and blink your eyes open. You’re confused at first as to why you're on the couch in the clinic until you remember.

Ezra is panting on the gurney, teeth gritted and trying to swallow his pained groans.

“ Shit ,” you jump up and hurry over. His entire body is tense and you can see that he’s making a concerted effort to not hold onto his surgical wound.

“ Please ,” he wheezes, and you realize the time- the morphine you have him would have worn off within the past hour.

“Shit, I'm sorry. Should’a yelled , I told you to. Hang on,” you prep a syringe and feed it into his IV port. Over the next minute, you watch as he slowly unclenches and relaxes a bit, still breathing hard, which you're sure is putting strain on his chest wound.

“Ezra, breathe with me. You gotta slow down- you're hurting the injury to your diaphragm.” His face looks worse today, you note, but the swelling is going down even if the bruising and scabbing is setting in worse. At least it looks like a face today instead of a pile of minced meat. One dark eye focuses on you and he tries to match your breathing; taking deeper, slower breaths that eventually even out. “There we go. Want a drink?”

“Yes, please,” he says, and you refill the bedside cup with cold water and plop the straw in it. He drinks half and pulls a face, dropping back to the mattress. “This nausea. Sucks almost as much– as the injuries,” he grits out, and you smile empathetically.

“You allergic to anything?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, watching you rifle through a drawer and come back with a nausea tablet in a single-serve sachet.

“Put this under your tongue. I’ll go make some broth. You need something on your stomach,” you explain and drop the tablet under his tongue. He makes a face as the acrid “berry” taste, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I hate them, too. I’ll be right back,” you dip out and pad across the hall to the little kitchen. You drop a bouillon cube into a cup and fill it with hot water from the kettle and bring it back, stirring until the cube is dissolved.

“Almost daylight. I expect your girl’s gonna come tearing through here soon, demanding to see you. Anything specific I should say, if you're asleep?” You tip the broth into him slowly and he swallows it with a grateful hum.

“Prepare her for the amputation, I suppose. Not much else to say, is there? I suppose we’ll be directed to living quarters once I'm released from your care, chérie?”

You nod. “Yeah, I'm sure Maria and Tommy are already prepping a place for you two. Depends on where they put her last night.”

“ Cee ,” Ezra says, drinking the last of the soup. “Her name is Cee.”

“ Cee , then. I’ll keep an eye out for her. You go back to sleep.”

Ezra blinks his one working eye at you and lays his head back again, sighing deep. “Thank you, soleil ,” he says, quietly, and you nod.

“No problem. I mean it,” you say when he scowls. “You had a hard time up til now, sounds like. But Jackson is safe. Actually safe. You’ll see,” you smile at him, and he nods off with that final image behind his eyes.

Expecting the girl to show now that it’s daylight, you silently open the door and think about sitting in the waiting room out front. When you step thru the swinging door that divides the comfortable waiting space and the sterility of the clinic rooms, Joel startles awake from his slump along a row of chairs and reaches for the butt of a rifle that isn't there. You stop and blink at him, genuinely surprised.

“Thought you went home?”

He clears his throat and stands up, knees and back cracking as he stretches and straightens. “ Nnngmph . I started to. Then I decided not to.”

“Alright. You ok? Need some ice, old man?” You tease, noticing his wince when he stretches. He scowls at you but there's a smile tugging at his mouth.

“ No . You worry ‘bout your – patient. I’m fine.”

“Technically anyone in Jackson is my patient, as the only doctor,” you say slyly. “Can't get past my perfect bedside manner that easily, Miller.”

“Hmmmph,” Joel comments, wrapping you in a warm hug as he yawns hugely. “I think I experience your bedside manner often enough, sweetheart. But I can’t complain,” he taunts, and you pinch his side, making him chuckle.

The sound of shoes pounding up the porch outside makes you straighten away from Joel’s embrace to glance out the window behind his breadth. “Ah, she’s here.”

Cee bursts through the door with Marnie, the older kids’ teacher, on her heels, calling her back.

“Where is he?” Cee pants, wrenching away from Marnie’s hand when the older woman reaches for her arm.

“Good morning, Cee. Marnie, it’s okay. I expected her this morning.” You turn to Cee, but she’s frowning mightily at Joel, looking him up and down suspiciously. He lifts a brow at her through that permanent frown that everyone except Ellie sees, no longer intimidated by teen girls since re-obtaining one of his own. He scowls back at her, unimpressed, and she flicks her eyes to you.

“Did he make it?” The steadiness in her voice is only betrayed by her lower lip trembling. You nod and lead her back. Marnie throws her hands up with a huff and leaves, stomping off down the snowy porch.

“They plant you with her last night?” You ask, leading Cee through the back. She rolls her eyes and nods.

“Kind of a bitch, isn't she?” You snort and nod at her remark.

“She’s certainly a character. She handles the teens for a reason, though. Strict as hell, doesn't take their shit.” You open the last door and notice that Joel is hovering at the entrance to the hall.

“Gonna go check on Ellie,” he says, eyes tripping over Cee when you both look back at him.

You speak up; “Okay. Tell her I said hi. And tell your brother he's a twat for sending a new kid to stay with Marnie of all people! She’d have gotten a better welcome staying with you and Ellie. Get some actual sleep before your patrol!” He nods, waving a disparaging hand over his shoulder as he walks out. You turn back to Cee.

“I had to remove his injured arm, so expect that. He’s stable, I have him on antibiotics and a blood pack to fight the infection that started up from his wounds. He’s knocked out on pain meds right now. Okay? Any questions?”

Cee shakes her head and tips her brow at the door. “Let's go.”

You open the door and lead her in, watching as she stands at the foot of the gurney and stares at Ezra. She roves over his pulpy face, the missing arm and bandages, the line of red that has managed to seep through the dressing on his chest. You move to replace it, letting her take him in. Eventually she sits, and does end up asking you a few questions. She pets the tuft of blonde at his temple and watches you move around the space. You let them be quiet and alone for a while, listening to Ezra’s wheezing breaths as he sleeps off the meds and you clear up some old-school paperwork files of your various patients at the front desk.

As the day waxes and wanes, you get a man from patrol in for a sprained ankle from landing wrong off his horse onto an icy patch, and one woman in for a pregnancy checkup. The midwife Janet and her trainee Silvia are assisting with a birth on the other side of town, so you check the woman’s vitals and, when everything clears, tell her to come back in a couple days to see Janet properly.

Cee calls you from the hall, urgently, a few times. Once, Ezra is pale and shaking, trying to struggle to a sit and he’s burning up. You cover him in cool wraps and lay an ice pack on his forehead and stomach, bringing his temp down fast. You up the dose of antibiotics and hope for the best, without much to tell you what exactly is ailing him from the inside. Blood samples only go so far with just a microscope to test on.

The second time, he complains about the catheter and asks to get up and use the toilet. You send Cee out to the waiting room and remove it, assisting him in getting up and aiming at the bowl with his off hand, which he blushes at but forces himself to remember you are a medical professional . He needs to get up and walk anyway, and you're glad he feels up to it. You let her back in when he’s back in bed and tell her to call you if he asks to get up again.

Tommy shows up in the late afternoon, telling you and Cee that they’ve set up one of the houses on your street, which makes sense- yours is the one filling with new folks now. It's one of the last empty stretches. “House 407,” he hands Cee the keys and glances at Ezra in the bed. Sam chimes in the door, ready to take over for the night, and you’re grateful.

“I’ll show you the house, if you want?” You offer, expecting the girl to turn it down. She stares at Ezra for a long moment and nods.

“Can I come back, after checking it out?”

You nod, smiling. “Let me tell Sam what’s up and we can go.”

“How long have you been here?” Cee asks, plodding through the snow with you.

“Ah, about two years? Not long. Before me they had an old nurse, and she passed about eight months ago now. I was a medic for FEDRA; defected when they started bombing the rebelling QZs about eight years ago. I hopped around for a while, stayed in the wild with a small group for a year. They got killed when we ran afoul of a gas station filled with clickers. Came here in the winter, like you two. Sucks ,” you chuckle, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

“Who’s in charge? Like, is there a caste system?” She asks, looking around at the houses. They're all leftover suburban developments, what would have been solidly middle class Before; nothing terribly classist, but some are decidedly larger or fancier than others on some streets. They all have water and electricity and keep the infected out, and that’s what matters anymore. You say as much, and Cee nods.

“Maria and her husband, Tommy - the guy who found you- they sort of run everything. But it’s a commune - the point is we all have a say, we all share food, essentials, and medicine, and barter goods or skills. We all pull weight, rotate patrols and jobs. Some of us are more specialized, like me, being the doc. But I still have patrol duty, same as anyone.”

“What do you do when you're not saving people or setting twisted ankles or on patrol?”

You pause briefly, thinking of Joel. You huff and shrug. “I like to read.”

“Do you have books here!?”

You chuckle, getting the feel of the young teen quickly. She’s hardy, but still a kid . She reminds you a bit of Ellie, though maybe not as feral. “We have a library, yes. And you’ll go to school when you're both well enough. I expect Ezra can go home in a few days, if he's got someone there to help him take care of some things.”

“Like getting around and cleaning it and stuff?”

“Yeah, and getting used to losing his dominant hand. He might struggle to do a lot of things at first. He’ll feel like his arm is there, sometimes, and reach for things, so he might drop stuff or get frustrated easily. Don't take it personally,” you lean in and stage-whisper, and she nods sagely.

You direct her to turn left on Rancher Street and up a pathway toward number 407.

Your own house is across the street and down two, beside the fenced-off graveyard, which you point out to her.

“My neighbor, Joel, that big grumpy guy who was at the clinic earlier? He's got a girl about your age. Ellie. She’s– well maybe about seventeen now? Ish? How old are you?”

“I’ll be seventeen next month,” she says, glancing across at the houses where you pointed.

You nod and squint at her as she keys into the house and peers around in the dark. “We got electricity, hon,” you remind her gently and snap the lights on and her mouth drops open.

“All this is just ours? We don't have to share?”

“Not a bit. It’s yours. If it's like the rest of the houses in this neighborhood, it's got three rooms and two bathrooms- one in the hall upstairs, between the two smaller rooms, and one in the big bedroom. Tommy and Maria will have fitted you out with clothes, beds and blankets, TP, probably tampons or a cup, soap... Check the rooms and see, I'll wait.”

Cee stops with a foot above a tread and glances back at you. She looks hesitantly up at the yawning darkness at the top of the stairs. “I can come up, if you don't want to go alone?” When she nods, you follow.

She ducks into both of the smaller rooms and investigates the bathroom, which indeed has a stack of toilet paper and a diva cup and instructions on the counter with a bar of soap and a little pot of natural deodorant. “Aw, you got green !” You say, and grin when she frowns at you.

“We make the soap here, in one of the shops. The green one smells best,” you hand it to her and she sniffs it, smiling.

“I don't remember the last time we had soap. Or a hot bath. Ezra’s gonna flip .” She sets the bar down and goes into the larger of the two small bedrooms, sitting on the bed to bounce it. You smile at her exploring the room all over from the hall.

“Wanna see if they put clothes in here for your dad?”

“It’s just Ezra. He and my father dug in the mines but they hated one another. He took me in a couple years ago when the clerk and his goons killed my dad at the mine’s pay table. He had tried to barter his ration chit for more. Ezra knew if he didn't squirrel me away they’d put me in the free use ring with the other orphan girls. I’m sure he thought I'd be useful to him, at least at first.”

You blink at her deadpan and incredibly dark explanation and clear your throat. “ Ezra , then. They probably left a change of clothes for him. Can’t send him home in the snow in his civvies.”

“Do you care to check? I’d actually really like a shower and to change,” she grimaces down at her bloody clothes that Marnie appears to have simply dried and given back to her. Never one for going the extra mile, dear Marnie.

“Sure thing,” you say, and go out across the hall to check.

Sure enough, whoever had stocked the house had left a stack of three flannels, three tee shirts, a canvas and wool-lined contrast coat, a neat pyramid of socks and boxers, two pair of jeans, sleep clothes, and a set of re-soled boots on the bed. The bathroom in the big bedroom has another stack of matching toiletries. You pile up enough to make an outfit and take it downstairs, and wait on the little sofa.

Cee stirs you awake as she plummets down the stairs, eyes wide. You startle, unaware that you had nodded off. “Oh. I thought you’d left,” she says, and visibly steels herself. “Thank you for staying,” she says almost shyly.

“It's okay kid. I know you're not settled. It’s still overwhelming. It’ll take some adjusting. Where are you sleeping tonight?”

She pauses, glancing back up the darkened stairs and then out the window. “Can I stay at the clinic?”

You shrug. “Just tell Sam to let you have the sofa, she can use another bed. Yell at her if Ezra needs something.”

“Okay!” She agrees and shoves her boots back on. You hand her the bag of Ezra’s clothes and tell her the way back.

“Just follow the road to the end and turn left at the street sign. Clinic’s on the right, three doors from the end. Tell Sam I said you could stay til Ezra is released.” You nod at her and she bites her lip.

“Thank you.”

You nod again. “You're welcome , Cee. Go on, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You watch Cee lock up and plod across the road and down til she is out of sight, and go across to your own house. As you stomp the snow off your boots on the porch, Joel opens his door and leans on the frame.

“Jeez, girl. You just gettin’ home?”

“Yeah, just showed the girl their house and sent her back off to stay with her dad. I need to sleep for like, a week ,” you scoff, kicking your boots off into the tray by the door. “You ain't gone on patrol yet?”

Joel hums and looks you up and down, assessing. His deep seated need to care for and simultaneous desire to not care at all is a trait you find both adorable and grating. “Traded this week off; that Tyler kid wants to be home with his wife during the day. She had their kid this mornin’.”

“Ah, right. You wanting to sleep over?” You ask, and he gives you a half smile.

“You just said you needed sleep,” he teases, shooting you that tilted smirk. “Go on,” he waves at you batting your lashes playfully in answer, and you go inside giggling, leaving the door unlocked.

A moment later, probably after leaving Ellie a note on his whereabouts, Joel stomps through the door and leaves his snow-packed boots in the tray with yours after you give him an unimpressed brow at the puddles forming on your floor.

“We just sleepin’ or am I putting you to sleep?” he asks, shucking his coat.

“I’m taking a shower and going to sleep. If you facilitate either of those ends, that’s fine,” you shrug, smiling, already moving to the bathroom under the stairs.

Joel ends up eating your pussy in the shower til you shake apart, then ruts between your soapy thighs until he splashes come on the wall. After rinsing you down, he washes your hair and puts you to bed, spooning up tight behind you to keep the warmth in while you sleep.

The last thought you have before drifting off is that the soft swell of his belly, padded out over the last year or so with a more comfortable life and actual meals in Jackson, is perfectly fitted to the small of your back, and the feeling might just be your favorite part about relaxing anywhere with him.

_______________

You wake up before dawn sprawled across his wide chest, listening to his heavy, even breaths. It would be nice to wake up every day, just like this. But you know if you suggest it, he’ll put you back at arm’s length. So you take what you can get.

You fall back asleep quickly, and wake a few hours later to Joel sitting on the edge of the bed, putting his socks on. The room is much brighter; definitely proper morning now. You stretch and yawn, brushing your fingertips along his hip, and he turns.

“Mornin’, sunshine. You headed back to the clinic?”

“Hmm,” you sigh, stretching. “Soon, yeah. Eat somethin’ and head over, let Sam go home.”

Joel nods and leans down, kisses you on your forehead, then your mouth. “I’ll see you later, then.”

You nod, and he goes. You listen for the door to close downstairs and sigh, stretching a kink out of your shoulder. You wonder idly after Cee, if Ezra made it another night, and decide to eat your toast with sunbutter on your walk across town.

When you get in, you're surprised and pleased to see Cee walking around the waiting area with a dressed and mussed Ezra, his arm slung across her shoulders for support.

“There’s my favorite patient,” you grin, praising his progress. You send Sam home and settle in to wait for anyone to come by. When you finally drop into the rolling chair behind the counter, Cee has sat him down in a wheelchair and parked him nearby. “How you feeling today?”

“I am upright and alive, soleil , neither of which is what I expected to be two days ago. I have already thanked Cee for her part in that, now I must thank you .” he squints one pretty dark eye, the other still puffy and swollen nearly shut, in an approximation of a smile and you can’t help smiling back.

“I told you no problem . You’re welcome . Leave it be,” you sigh, dragging out his chart. Sam had left notes for the overnight, and you verify them with him, mostly to test his memory. He is able to corroborate most of them, though he peers over at Cee twice when he can’t recall a detail.

After making sure he was settled again, Cee had gone back to their home and managed a nap, but a couple hours later he’s up and moving around again, under your watchful eye, and she's coming back up the walkway now. You wonder if she’ll go to the mess hall and bring back lunch. Biting your lip, you decide to try.

“Up for something more than broth today?” You ask Ezra, and he perks up.

“If my doctor says I am able , then I am eager for any rations, soleil .”

You give him a wide grin and a wink. “I can do better than rations , pretty boy. One sec.” he laughs as you hear Cee jingle into the waiting area and you call out to catch her before she takes her coat off.

“Cee! Would you mind getting us all some lunch, hon? Mess hall is across the road, there. Big building.”

She goes, somewhat shy but determined, and brings back wrapped sandwiches and containers of a thick, creamy soup, and herbal tea. Ezra’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the spread.

“My word. You are certain I didn't die?”

You snort, your teeth buried in your sandwich, and shake your head. “Nope. I know the food’s overwhelming at first. ‘specially coming from the road or the QZs.”

You advise him to eat slowly to make sure he can keep it down, and he struggles not to swallow it all whole, working to savor every bite. Having to scoop with his left hand slows him down a good bit. You match his pace, which he notices only after several minutes of waffling with the spoon.

“What are you reading there, soleil ?” He asks later, sleepy and full and on a fresh round of painkillers (though you're already weaning him off, he seems to have a low pain threshold).

You hum and turn your three- inch- thick paperback to face him. “Just a historical fiction I picked up. We have a little library, but if you don't give everything a chance, you’ll read through everything too fast,” you scoff. “I prefer the ribald romances and fantasy books, personally, but these are sometimes real gems.”

Ezra snorts and squints at the book. “ Parade’s End, ” he murmurs and frowns. “What’s it about?”

“One’s duty to society and family versus personal preference, really. It’s set during the first world war. The main character is an aristo in a loveless marriage because he and his wife constantly miscommunicate in an attempt to one-up the other. He falls in love with a young suffragette but won't let himself be with her. His wife has a few affairs and his name is sullied in high society by her jilted lover bouncing his check at the bank, so he goes to war to avoid her and the situation. When he comes home he realizes that he is trying to remain old fashioned in a world that is already changed, and living like that only serves to make him unhappy, so he decides to separate from his wife, but he won’t divorce her because of their son. He sends her to live at his family estate in wealth, but makes sure she is unhappy with it. And he lives happily in sin with his suffragette.”

Ezra grins at your summary and lolls his head back on the pillows. “Read some to me? I will probably fall asleep. But I'd appreciate it, chérie . I haven't been able to indulge in a tale in a very long time.”

You scoot the chair closer and prop your feet on the support racking under his gurney, and read in a measured, soothing voice, glancing up every so often to see your patient getting more and more sleepy. Finally, he nods off, and you watch him for a few moments. Cee is snoozing hard on the little couch, and otherwise the room is quiet aside from the susurrus of the space heater whirring, keeping out the freezing temps outside. You go back to your book, one ear trained for the door to jingle.

Three days later, at dusk, Joel appears on your porch to walk you to the clinic and Ellie to her friend Dina’s before he goes on patrol for the night shift. Ellie is by his side, rattling excitedly about a comic one of her school mates had let her read during free time that day. “And she has the last one too ! I’ll get the whole arc and don’t have to make it up myself!”

You catch him through your door’s glass pane as you put your coat on, watching her with that soft half smile on his face, and it makes your own appear.

Early the next morning, Ezra is ready to be sent home; he’s finally weaned fully off the morphine and onto regular pain management for the healing wound on his arm. His diaphragm sounds good, and you had removed the drainage ports in his stump overnight so he could sleep it off and you could monitor it closely until morning. You are putting on your coat, trading off shifts with Sam who just arrived, and giving Cee detailed instructions on how to care for him and the surgery site, what to do if common issues arise, and strict orders for no weight lifting and lots of water and rest.

Ellie’s on your clinic porch when you open the door and usher Ezra and Cee out into the cold. She stuffs her notebook back in her bag, jumps up, and waits by the stairs while you close up and finish talking to them.

“Hey Ellie,” you greet with a grin. Her and Cee eye one another speculatively and she comes to your other side, ready to walk you home. “This is Cee, and Ezra. They came in last week,” you introduce them. “Ellie is Joel’s kid,” you tell them, leaving it at that. You know Ezra and Cee are in a similar situation.

Ellie takes your elbow and you keep pace with Cee and Ezra, walking across as a clump to get dinner at the mess hall before taking them to their house. Cee and Ellie trade small, stilted words across the table, mostly opening up after they find out one another's explosive imagination and love for reading sci-fi.

You grin conspiratorially at Ezra over bowls of soup and he watches them with a fond smile, happy to see Cee coming out of her shell with another kid.

When you leave the mess hall, Ellie and Cee are still animatedly chatting, discovering a mutual love for a space series they had both read bits and pieces of. If one has a knowledge gap, the other can usually fill it, and together they piecemeal the series.

Ezra walks close to you, minding his footing with his precarious balance in the packed and somewhat slippery snow. “I am glad there are kids her age here. In the– hmm. Where we came from, most of her peers were sold off to the mines, or the girls were being abused. About the only useful thing her asshole daddy did was keep her from that. She hasn't had much peer interaction in a few years.”

You hum and nod. “Ellie’s warmed up a good bit. She’s probably a good one for Cee to latch onto, honestly. Her and her old man were just about feral when they got here.”

“ Feral ?” Ezra chuffs, carefully skirting a sheet of ice. You take his elbow and lead on.

“Hmm. Like a couple of cats being brought inside and shown love for the first time,” you grin. “They’d been on the road a long time, coming from Boston mostly on foot. Lots of trouble, being exposed like that. They didn't take kindly to a lot of intervention at first, but I think they came around well enough in the end. Joel’s doing well, Ellie's making friends. Giving folks safety and time makes them come around, usually.”

“Joel. He's come by, yes? The name is familiar, though I admit I haven't been terribly lucid in the last week.”

“Yeah, he was there the first night. I’m their neighbor; you’re actually across the street from us. You’ll see soon, we’re almost there.” (You don't say the rest- that you and Joel have been fucking and sleeping over and kissing and having weekly dinners with Ellie for nearly a year, but if anyone lays ownership he backs away, closes off, and it takes weeks for him to lower his hackles and come back around).

“He’s real handy, used to be a contractor, Before. If you need something done on the house, I suggest coming across and asking there first,” you add, nodding at your house and Joel's. You point them out, the brown of his and your own, next door. “Or his brother, Tommy. That's the guy that found you and Cee on patrol.”

Ezra makes an affirmative grunt and squints at the houses. “We are being watched , soleil ,” he chuckles, and you glance over to see a figure in the early morning fog, thrown into shadow by the light coming through the window behind him. Joel is back from his shift and is standing on his porch, watching you and Ellie walk the newcomers to their house.

“He’s a little overprotective,” you roll your eyes and nod.

“You and Cee are there,” you point across and angle the both of you toward the deep green two-story where the girls are leading.

Ezra’s mouth hangs open while he takes it in, just as baffled and overwhelmed as Cee was a few days ago. “This is all ours? Or do we share with another family?”

You smile, remembering Cee’s similar words a few days ago. “No, it’s yours and hers. We haven't had to start sharing homes yet; and we still have a whole road of empties, and most of Rancher Street is still empty, save for our occupied lots and the graves, so hopefully it will be a while . And hopefully if we’re that big, by then we can build more.”

Cee unlocks the door and you all file in. The girls keep talking and you watch Ezra poke around the space while you wait on Ellie. Eventually, you cock an eyebrow at her and she drops her chin.

“Uh, anyway. I’m across in the brown house if you want to read any of what I have. Just tell Joel you’re looking for me- he looks way meaner than he is. Promise,” she laughs, winking at you. You nod at Cee in agreement and she breaks into a smile. “I’m turning the garage into my room, so hopefully by the time the weather’s warm you can just come back there.”

“Okay.”

“And come get me next door to them if you need help with anything or are having complications. Otherwise I'm mostly at the clinic. If I don't see you in two days for a checkup, I'll come find you,” you level a finger at Ezra and he chuckles weakly.

“I am not in the habit of spurning women, soleil . I’ll see you then.”

You and Ellie leave, shutting the door firmly behind you, and she knocks her shoulder into yours.

“They’re both fuckin’ cute ,” she says slyly, and breaks into giggles when you roll your eyes at her.

“Don't you like Dina ?” you fake a retch and she bends to throw a handful of snow at your head.

“Fuck you dude! She’s banging that stupid boy anyway. Gonna end up in your clinic soon, I'm sure. Idiots. I backed off.”

“ Eew . Was he there last night?” You ask, side-eyeing her slumped shoulders.

“Ugh. Yeah.”

Ah , you think. Bingo . “ That's why you were there so early, making out like Joel sent you to walk me home. You were escaping ,” you poke her in the ribs and she breaks into a grin again, laughing.

“Yeah, I was. Sucks being the third wheel.”

“I agree,” you sigh, stopping at the gate to Joel’s yard. He is still on the porch and watches Ellie walk up. He asks her something quietly, then snaps his gaze back to you. He nods at her and she disappears into the house with a little wave. He comes down the stairs to the gate and frowns at the green house across the way.

“Got your patient settled in?”

You hum, not glancing back. He’s thrumming with some sort of energy- jealousy or territorial puffing- up, your gut says, and you make a concerted effort not to ask or frown back. “Yep, I think he’s made it past the worst of it. Ellie liked Cee a lot, seems like she might have a new friend. That’s always good. The new ones tend to struggle- you two know that as well as anyone else here.”

“She said you had to cut that guy’s arm off?”

You squint up at him and scowl. “I'm not discussing a patient with the likes of you, Miller. But you’ll see soon enough he is indeed missing an arm, and he wasn't when Tommy dragged him in.”

Joel blinks down at you, his frown deepening, before he realizes you're teasing him and it softens again.

“Jesus, girl.” He wraps a wide hand around the back of your neck and guides you to your door, boots scuffing in the crunchy snow.

“Somethin’ happen today?” You ask, unlocking your door. You kick your boots off but he stands on the welcome mat, dripping. Not staying, then. Maybe .

“Nah, just. One of the assholes on patrol said he looked like me.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Maybe severely malnourished and ten or more years younger, sure. Maybe in a different life, even. He’s your height and has dark hair and eyes, built like an upside-down pyramid. No doubt with some square meals he’ll be a brick shithouse like you,” you chuckle. “That's about it. He's from Louisiana, though. Your dad go ‘cross the border and start sowin’ seed in Cajun country when you were a kid?” You giggle, blocking a wide palm when he goes to grab you.

“You stayin’ for breakfast? I've had a soup on all night. could go get your kid.”

“Nah, I cooked. She’s prob’ly over there eatin’ more than her half,” Joel grimaces, looking at the wall like he can see through it into his house, into Ellie’s mind.

Your smile doesn't quite meet your eyes. It's like reopening the scarred wound in his side.

“Alright.”

Joel seems to take it as dismissal (or he was looking for a way to leave, even though he’s the one who came over), and dips his chin at you before ducking back outside and around the picket fence to his own house. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands and sigh.

Shower, food, bed. Check on your patients. Repeat.

You shuck your coat and beanie and go upstairs, eager to strip off and eat and crash. Bed sounds incredible, even without your preferred space heater of a… Friend . The good news is, with Ezra finally discharged, no one has to sit on- call at the clinic overnight. If someone needs you, they’ll come knocking.

You shower, dress in warm lounge clothes, eat your soup, box the rest for the week’s meals, and crash face-first into your bed within an hour of getting home.

_______________

Joel had already been home when you and Ellie went past, leading the newcomers to their allotted house. You had your elbow looped in the guy’s, Ellie and the girl were ahead, grinning and talking animatedly about something- probably a book, if he knew Ellie at all.

You had a serene smile on your face when looking at him , answering a question and carefully minding the paths in the snow for your patient, and Joel’s heart had clenched up tight. Some ugly part of him walled up, seeing both of you happy and at ease, with himself nowhere in the frame. He pressed his molars together and drew himself up, turning away so he didn't have to watch as you followed them inside their new home and shut the door.

Ellie had carefully and methodically (with all the untrained, blunt force of a hapless teenager) sanded down all the fractured edges he had over their trek across the country and back, and his increasing terror at the loss of control over himself or his situation was only doubling- down the closer he got to you . You’re another person to look out for, who would happily tie their fate to his own; your pain, his pain. Your happiness; his. Ellie has already pulled away from him, sensing his aversion to talking about Colorado and possibly seeing straight through his ocean of lies surrounding the trip, of their abrupt exit.

He isn't sure his heart can take another breach.

He stands in the doorway, his back to you and Ellie in Ezra’s house, and thinks about drawing back from you. Putting the walls up that you’ve come to expect every so often. But then he thinks of the disappointment he will see in your face when he does, and it hurts just as bad as the jealousy does. He tries to make himself not care, but he’s only fooling himself.

He doesn't even know if you like this new guy.

You could just actually be caring for a newly-disabled patient.

You could just pity the guy.

He’ll wait. But he’s not sleeping the day away in your bed. It's the weekend and Ellie is out of school and working on her latest project, moving into the garage and away from him. He’ll nap on the sofa in case she needs him to haul or build or fix something, and train his good ear on her while he tries to rest.

Overnight rounds were a bitch on his joints and back. He’d much rather lay in bed with you and leave Ellie to her own devices; not much trouble she could get in, in Jackson. But that somehow feels like crossing a line, so he stays back and away from it.

He’d rather pull back before you can have the chance.

He’s not sure his heart can take another failure.

-----------------------------🍄-------------------------

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tachimichishrine · 5 months

Text

"barista"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

hunting dogs x gn!barista!reader hcs

warnings: none!!

jouno saigiku

oh dear

harasses everyone

harasses his partner

harasses his mf FOOD

by this, I mean he sends things back, not bc he isn't satisfied but bc he can

ESPECIALLY if his partner is on their shift, he'll be extra nasty

"what can I get you today, Jouno?"

"an iced coffee, with specifically 5 cubes of ice 2cm by 2cm, 1 pack sweetener, a drizzle of chocolate and 25ml of 3% milk and, oh, do you have chocolate sprinkles? yeah, I want some of that on top, add some whipped cream too and-"

orders the longest thing and then sends it back because "there were incomplete sprinkles" while staring down the barista with a huge grin

his partner is literally on the verge of breaking up with him for this

however, sometimes he gets bored of toying with them and just orders a coffee

he likes to observe people

it's kinda creepy but he'll pick a seat in the corner and listen as his partner writes down orders and smiles at other people, and then gets somewhat internally offended when they laugh at the random customer's dumb jokes

he narrows his eyes (even more, if that's possible?) at them at wonders why he doesn't make them laugh as loudly as that

takes it as a challenge

now you've got a clingy af jouno who sticks around the desk and seduces his way into the kitchen by flirting with the manager (his partner's boss)

his partner wants to YELL at him that they have to work, but he just places his hands on their hips and kisses their forehead and gives them the slightest hug and tells them how much he loves them, so their partner reluctantly tolerates his presence around their work

he may not know how to cook but he smells every single ingredient and is a surprisingly fast learner so the manager is lowkey trying to recruit him bc of his undeniable talent 👹

overall, he does help in the end, but his partner has to put up with a lot of teasing and nastiness. occasional jokes and cute little pranks where jouno would place a heavily powdered donut under their nose to make them sneeze and eventually messing up the ENTIRE place

but damn, those perfect milkshakes he made are worth it all

tecchou suehiro

he is easily distracted

asks his partner all sorts of things

"hey, how do they make coffee?"

"well, you put the beans in the machine-"

"beans???"

"yes??? coffee beans???"

"coffee???comes???from??beans???"

"yes, tecch, it does u adorable idiot 🙄"

"does that mean you can make coffee out of the beans they put in burritos and stuff?"

"no- wait I don't think so- actually, maybe-"

other customers overhear the discussion and chip in and the entire thing escalates to the WEIRDEST topics

the manager is pretty impartial as to his presence, given that he doesn't disturb anyone and usually just orders and silently observes his partner with a faint smile on his lips

his partner turns, notices his gaze and bites the inside of their cheek to prevent themselves from blushing/grinning at him, then get back to work

they do, however, like to blow him little kisses while on their shift, or to leave a small note on Tecchou's orders like "ily <3" or "you're so cute 💕"

he is a gentleman omg

he once spent the entire time his partner was on their shift holding the door for the people who entered

gets asked if he works there, and he automatically replies yes and helps everyone with their stuff, whether it's a broken glass or spill or if they need sweetener in their drink

nvm the manager now loves him

he makes it a point to visit his s/o as often as possible when they're working, even if they live together or have a date planned for later that day. he might not say much, but he loves to be in their presence as often as possible

a literal GOD at taking care of angry customers

whereas jouno would probably subtly threaten them, Tecchou is just gonna walk up to their face and be rly straight-forward about it

"sir, what's your problem?"

"I placed my order for coffee, a SINGLE COFFEE OVER HALF AN HOUR AGO AND I STILL HAVEN'T RECEIVED IT??? THIS SERVICE IS TERRIBLE-"

"sir, just take a breath. the employee over here is going to make it for you right away, and free of charge, right?"

ofc, they'd nod and do as he said bc the person is no longer fuming

the biggest issue with having tecchou in the café is his orders

he asks for the oddest things, including, but not limited to, sugar on rice and a hard-boiled egg with the shell still on

his partner makes sure to explain to their boss that this isn't anything abnormal for him, and that they'll make sure to take care of the order themselves

after all, putting together a weird food combo in order to get a chubby-cheeked tecchou stuffing his face with sugary rice is very worthwhile

teruko okura (aged up?? ig??? bc children running around a café is odd i think?? wtf is her real age-)

she is NOT made to be in a café with a serene vibe

no bc she picks up fights with everyone who breathes

"hey, idiot, stop breathing so loudly or else i'll come over there and shut you up myself-"

her partner thus keeps a stall in the very corner specifically for her that's far away from the other people 😐

teruko loves sugary and spicy flavors all in one, like a strong cinnamon or ginger, any type of warm drink that smells strongly rly

her partner does that mystical thing with the milk that creates a heart on the surface of the drink that looks so cute

teruko chugs down the drink without even looking at it 💀

she isn't one for those kinds of gestures, and would much rather physically cling to her partner's side instead

sneaks up from under the counter and then pops up like a weasel with a HUGE smile on her face, the kind of cute smile that is like, showing all of her teeth and SUPER contagious and makes you wanna pat her on the head and hug her

the manager DOES NOT agree with this tho and kicks her out repeatedly. teruko is so close to snapping the manager's neck but her partner intervenes and reminds her that they still need their job

the entire café, teruko concludes, is against her

the powdered sugar gets thrown into her face by an unknown force

salt gets dumped on her hair

she slips on a puddle in the corner

the milkshake machine explodes in her face

it's just NOT her scene

that is the last time she visited her partner while at work, telling them that she's going to be waiting outside once their shift is over bc the pain is NOT worth it

fukuchi ochi

fukuchi barely has time to spend with his s/o, given how much of a busy man he is

so, he'll support them by financing the café itself and making sure they get high-quality ingredients and that the working conditions are acceptable

he does make it a point to ONLY get his coffee from there, tho, but doesn't use it as an excuse to talk to his partner. he's in he gets the coffee, then he's out

for this reason, his partner - who is not an idiot and needs human affection just like the rest of the planet - "suddenly and mysteriously" becomes a klutz

"accidentally" drops the coffee on him as they're serving his order, which leads him to freak out, and then rush to the bathroom to wash it off

apologizing profusely, his partner will follow him to the bathroom and help him out, using this as an opportunity to 1) get him to take off his shirt 😌 2) talk to him

this happens for about 3 weeks before his dense ass realizes that they just want some love

tries this out, showing up and ordering his usual coffee, and then asks them how their day has been

they BEAM at him, and gush about the tiniest things

he won't admit to himself that he loves seeing them so happy like that and that it makes his heart flutter a bit, instead telling himself the next time he stays that he's doing it "out of convenience" or some bs like that

eventually finds himself spending hours in the café just talking to his partner about random things, whether that is during their break or while the s/o is supposed to be working

the manager doesn't have the balls to tell him that they're supposed to be working bc fukuchi supplies like half the financial funds for the place 😍

he might start to be showing up late to hunting dogs' meetings for the next while, but spending the time with his partner has been shown to be more than worth.

tachihara michizou

It's very likely that the café is the place he met his partner, or at least has some kind of emotional value to him

either it's where they first asked him out (bc there's no way he'd make the first move) or maybe he was caught in the rain and his future partner, walking out of the café while holding an umbrella, offered it to him with a bright smile

for this reason, he likes to meet them here as much as possible

HOWEVER, there's an issue with dating tachihara, a big one at that

mid-way through the relationship, he had to go undercover and work for the mafia

since his partner had met him and knew only of his work as being "dangerous" and "top-secret", they understood a bit when he said that he had to go on a business trip of sorts and things would get complicated

tachihara lowkey went into a full-on breakdown bc he had never been loved like that before and felt sick at the idea of leaving, but his partner assured him that they'll be waiting for the day he comes back, and held him in their arms for the entire night, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear and gently kissing his forehead

eventually, he did have to leave. in the beginning, he teared up every night while in the port mafia thinking of his love

so, once he got the mafia's trust and moved along in the ranks, he got more freedom to move around and stuff. eventually, he got so heartsick he found himself subconsciously wandering right in front of the café out of habit

before he could snap out of his trance and get tf out of there, his partner noticed him and pulled him into the tightest hug in existence while sobbing their heart out

tachihara couldn't imagine the pain of saying goodbye for good again

so, he made it a rule to come and visit them on his shifts as often as possible, discreetly for their safety

they a b a n d o n their job and run over to hug him every single time he appears bc they never know if it'll be the last time they'll see him

the manager doesn't really follow the story, but tachihara's partner is one of the harder workers in the café, and the café itself isn't that popular anyways, so there's no point in yelling at them

tachihara isn't picky about what food he eats or what drinks he sips, so long as he gets to hear his partner's voice and be near them (I strongly hc that he has attachment issues)

he orders hot chocolate, even in the summer, and still hasn't shaken off that child-like tendency of chugging it down aggressively and ending up with a chocolate milk mustache, which his partner teases him about every single time

one time, he wasn't vigilant enough and gin - who was supposed to deliver a message from the boss about one thing or another - followed tachihara all the way to the café

saw tachihara kissing some stranger 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯👩‍🦯

she walked up to him, and his eyes went WIDE. his partner didn't recognize gin for obvious reasons, and thus got embarrassed, climbed off of tachihara and stood back at the counter, and asked her what her order was, since technically the shop was still operating

gin was confused af

she creased her brows at them, shook her head then turned towards tachihara

oh boy tachihara is screwed

at first, his partner thought he'd been cheating on them or something, then thought about it twice and realized that he wasn't the type to cheat on people. so they (not-so-)gently shoved gin out of the way and told tachihara that they "needed a smoke", a codeword for "outside. now. we need to talk"

he told gin that he'd received the message, and to tell the boss that he'll deal with it tomorrow, and then the mafiosa went on her way.

his s/o demanded an explanation as to who tf that was, and tachihara reluctantly explained that it was someone he worked with

his partner isn't an idiot, they knew that his work was dangerous and that "someone he worked with" would be equally so, and thus they realized by the way he was perspirating with cold sweat and seemed pretty shocked that the girl had shown up

eventually, things were sorted out and no harm was done. tachihara made gin swear she wouldn't tell anyone about his dating situation, and like the frikkin amazing person she is, she agreed.

even though he slipped up that time, he couldn't stop himself from heading back to the café and meeting up with his partner as often as possible

in the end, the risk was clearly worth it

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