In which Cole Miller fixes Hadley York's little sister's teddy bear, and maybe something a little more personal, too.
(Please keep in mind that I wrote this story when I was sixteen, when I had little experience writing a story with any kind of length. I hadn't explored feminism or consent and I was, for the most part, very ignorant towards the kind of toxicity that stories like Teddy Bear Hospital endorse. This story absolutely does not reflect my values, and it certainly doesn't portray a healthy, consensual relationship all the way through, though I think the worst of it is in the first few chapters. That being said, I am keeping this story published because people have asked me to, and I think that being able to see an author's progress is important. If you still choose to read, I hope you enjoy it, while remaining aware that I do not condone the kinds of relationships I have written in this story.)